His Deeds:

Drafts" From His Book

Western Front:

 

 

 

 

Excerpt from Chapter 2:

I remember the train trip very well as I was terribly sick and vomited all over the compartment. No doubt Father was faced with a hefty clean-up bill. I felt a bit better after we changed trains in Munich for the Dorfen line and in Dorfen, which was only about 40 Km out of Munich, we changed again on to the Kloster's own railway - a little stubby engine and one carriage. The ride to Algasing lasted about 15 minutes, then followed a short walk up the hill and we finally reached the Kloster's gates. It was a huge building complex with massive walls all round like a medieval castle. Very impressive and awe inspiring to a 6-year old little boy and, realizing once Father had abandoned me and gone home I would be left at the mercy of people I had never seen or met before, was a little frightening. The only consolation was knowing my brother was in there somewhere too.

The front door was huge, made of solid carved oak with an enormous brass ring in the centre and a bell-pull hanging on a chain, going round a metal pivot, before disappearing through the top of the frame to the inside. I looked up to that chain when Father pulled it and listened to the bell inside which sounded more like a church bell on a Sunday morning. It took some time for somebody to answer the call and when the door finally came open there was Brother Hyronimus from the Catholic Order of the Barmherzige Bruder, looking down on me. I knew this was Brother Hyronimus because Father called him so. He was dressed in a black cassock reaching from the neck to the floor with a white rope belt round his middle and a sleeveless sort of apron covering back and front which had a cape on the back. He must have been in charge of all the doors in the place because he had a large key ring on his belt with a dozen or more huge keys dangling from it which probably weighed him down a bit. Brother Hyronimus took us to the visitor's reception room where there were other people with their boys. Refreshments were placed on the tables - black home-made bread and butter and honey, with coffee for the grown ups, lemonade for we boys. Some, like me, were new and some were being visited by their parents. I was expecting to meet my brother but he was nowhere to be seen. This visitor's room was the end of the line for all females coming to the Kloster. They were only allowed in the playground or in the theatre hall. There were no female employees anywhere so all chores like cooking, cleaning and the general running of the Kloster were done by the monks.

After refreshments Father and I were taken to the second floor to be met by the Prior of the Monastery who had a chat with him, then addressed me as 'my son'. I wasn't quite sure about that and asked Dad why he called me his son. He told me the Prior was the father figure of the monastery and therefore called everybody around him his son. Later that afternoon we were able to see my brother for a short time in the playground then after we said good-bye to Father, Willi went back to his quarters on the first floor and I was taken upstairs with all the other new boys of my class to the third floor which was to be my living environment for the next 4 years.

At the end of the corridor was a large dining room with tables and chairs along each side. There was a drawer in the table behind each chair, containing spoon, knife and fork and a little book called 'Leitfaden' (guideline,house rules) which told us how to behave at meal times, how to use knife and fork, and that you didn't bite the bread but broke off little bits at a time. Of course since we couldn't yet read, Frater Jakobus in charge of our little lot, read it out to us before every meal, seated at his elevated desk at the front of the dining room. Adjacent to the dining room was the dormitory with rows of beds covered with thick white eiderdowns and, of course as we discovered very quickly, each morning we were the ones who had to make the beds under the watchful eyes of big Brother Jakobus. Wash basins, one for each boy, cold tap water, with toothpaste, brush, soap, comb and towel in precision arrangement were placed at the rear of the dormitory.

Each morning after getting washed and dressed we lined up in front of our beds to be inspected by Frater Jakobus for neatness and grooming before entering the dining room for breakfast and ten minutes prayer, which was the order of the day before every meal. Breakfast usually consisted of a bowl of porridge followed by black bread and butter and jam or honey and a cup of coffee. It all came up from the ground floor kitchen by means of a hand- operated lift. After breakfast and washing up we went into the assembly hall, which was also the gymnasium, for 10 minutes breathing exercises, push-ups and a quick trot round the hall before heading off to the chapel located at the other end of the corridor. Everything was on the same floor, including the classroom. The chapel was a sort of balcony overlooking the main church below.

That balcony also housed the apparatus which supplied the wind to the church organ and was operated by our 'minder' Frater Jakobus. Poor chap. We thought it fun to watch him standing on a huge wooden pedal with one foot, holding himself on a rail above his head with both hands and thus doing push- ups for half an hour. It must have been quite hard work because he perspired profusely, which certainly entertained we boys more than the church service though should one of us get carried away and giggle the punishment was severe. Right there, after the service, before going to the classroom for the morning's lessons Frater Jakobus dealt with the miscreant as he always carried a cane beneath his cloak.

It was quite a chastening sight to see three or four boys lined up for Frater Jakobus's cane and watch it come dowm with precision strokes, never missing once. It was no good pulling the hand back as the cane was always quicker. The ultimate punishment, however, was having to lie on the back with Jakobus locking one's head between his legs, grabbing the ankles, pulling the feet up and giving the backside a generous whacking with his cane. All that before eight in the morning, before the day had started properly in school. Once in the classroom, those who had received such punishment were quite relieved that we always had the Lord's prayer before sitting down...

The morning school session finished at 12 o'clock, then it was back to the dining room for our midday meal, the main meal of the day. It was a strict rule that all meals had to be eaten in complete silence and the eagle eyes of our minder seated on his raised desk made sure it was stringently obeyed. Woe betide anyone who broke the silence, not just by speaking, but any noise created by dropping a spoon or shifting a chair on the floor was enough. Not only did he get the cane treatment or a spanking but he also spent the rest of the meal time kneeling in a corner staring at the walls and forsook the rest of his meal.

The afternoons were usually set aside for outdoor activities for we first and second year kids. On rainy days it was playtime in the gym. We had large playgrounds with swings, slides, turntables, lots of scooters, billy carts and a large sand pit. There wasn't much that could have been improved upon as the equipment was supplied by boys with rich parents and there were quite a few of them. I remember one in particular, whose name was Schermer. He would have been about the most stupid boy in class but for some reason he always seemed to get the best marks. His parents obviously were rich and his mother visited regularly in a large chauffeur-driven Mercedes-Benz. What we liked about her was she always had little gifts for everybody and if we were short of, say, scooters because of breakages, all we had to do was whisper in little Schermer's ear and sure enough Mummy came along with new ones. So, despite little Schermer's scholarly handicap he was the most popular boy in class.

Of course, the playground was full of other attractions. There was an animal enclosure with deer, geese and ducks but the most interesting building was the toilet block - an impressive building, a family-sized 8-holer with neat little lids and cut-out hearts in the doors. It was a real challenge to see who could lower himself furthest down a hole without disappearing altogether. Of course a good lookout had to be maintained for Frater Jakobus - but then he couldn't be everywhere at the same time. Luckily for us, nobody disappeared down the small apertures, and more importantly, nobody was ever caught. Punishment would have been beyond description, especially for the unfortunate chap, going under!!

On a hot day when the temperature rose to a 'dizzy' 25 degrees or more - 25 degrees was regarded as a heatwave and caused all school activities to be stopped - we would be taken to the Kloster's swimming pool to cool off. It was a large pool with the usual deep and shallow ends and as the shallow end was already deep enough for we boys to drown in, plus the fact that practically none of us could swim, one would think that Frater Jakobus had a problem. Not so. He just grabbed us by the neck and feet and threw us right into the middle of the pool. This soon indicated who could swim and should one not surface after an appropriate time he dived in fully attired - habit and everything he wore underneath - and he always got us out in time! I don't know how he did it; he was extremely short sighted and wore glasses the size of headlights and when he took them off I'm sure he couldn't see the pool, but the important thing was he never lost a boy. After a few such lessons we learned to keep ourselves afloat.

Winter time was quite pleasant too. On Sunday mornings after church we had long walks through the pine forests or went tobogganing in the afternoons with the older boys. This was one of the rare occasions when I was together with my brother for a whole afternoon as the rule was I was only allowed to see him twice a week, on Wednesdays and Saturdays for one hour in the evening after tea for playtime activity, which was more of a hobby time with model making and reading. On the stroke of the bell precisely an hour later my visiting time was over and I was on my way up the stairs again.

We also had a very good theatre set up with professional stage and sunken orchestra pit and dressing rooms, plus a sunken cue box for actors who forgot their lines. Regular plays and dramas were put on mainly by the older boys, with audiences coming from all over the countryside because the productions were quite proficient.

I remember one Christmas watching the Nativity rehearsal where the curtains opened to reveal a row of angels led by the archangel who had quite a few lines to recite. Well, just a few days before the opening 'Gabriel' went down with the flu and had to be put into Kloster's infirmary. The producer was having problems and frantically looked around for a replacement capable of learning the lines quickly and whatever made him choose me I will never know. I had no trouble learning them - I'd had three days to do so - then they took me to the stage for a rehearsal and everything went fine; I was ready for the big event.

Then came the day of the performance and we all got dressed, looking like proper angels in our white floor-length robes with wings on our shoulders and a halo on the head which sparkled when the lights shone on it. We assembled on the stage with the curtains still closed but behind them I could hear the murmur of the audience and disaster struck! My mind went blank and when the stage manager quizzed me for my opening lines I couldn't remember one single word. I had forgotten the lot, and it didn't make any difference how much they prompted me, the lines just wouldn't come back, gone forever. I was quickly whisked back to the dressing room and stripped of my wings and halo while somebody raced to the infirmary to snatch 'Gabriel' from his sick bed and over to the theatre and dressed in time for the event. The curtain rose half an hour later and so ended my acting career...

Time passed and we had our outings, like the annual picnic with the Kloster's train to Dorfen for Brezel and Wurst and a bottle of Kracherl - a bottle of mineral water where a glass marble inside popped to the top when opened, which always fascinated us. On another trip out of our walled 'home' we were taken to Dorfen to the polling station when all the Fraters had to vote, in the election in September 1930. We didn't know anything about the big power struggle going on in Germany at that time between the ruling factions of the Weimar Republic and particularly between the Communists and the German National Party. All the Fraters, being good Catholics, voted for the 'Centrum' - the middle party, as all southern Bavaria did, so we were told.

There were other excitements in Kloster while I was there. One night, well after midnight, we woke to discover our dormitory filled with smoke. Fire had broken out in the adjacent dining room but despite the seriousness of the situation there was no panic. The Fraters were in complete control and told us to get dressed, in silence as usual, then we were led from the room past the closed dining room door behind which the fire was raging and out into the corridor. The Fraters made sure no-one was left behind then led us down the stairs and across the lawns into the theatre hall.

Looking through the windows of the auditorium we could see the fire raging and the monks on extension ladders smashing the glass from the window frames. Each time a window was broken the up-draft made their habits billow up like balloons and it wasn't long before the roof was ablaze and then collapsed. It was quite frightening for we boys to watch our 'home' go up in smoke like that. The Fraters did their job well, managing to contain the blaze to the top floor of our wing and had it under control by mid morning. All fire-fighting was done by Kloster's own fire brigade.

I'm not sure whether it was the fire drama and the general disruption which followed, or perhaps the bad weather we were having at that time, but shortly after I became ill and spent two weeks in the infirmary where, despite being sick, I quite enjoyed the break from lessons and meeting some of the older boys and becoming privy to their 'tricks' which, in retrospect were pretty diabolical. One in particular involved welcoming a new patient by several boys forming a line, everybody linking hands, with the newcomer placed at the end where, with his free hand he held the water tap. Meanwhile the devilish 'mastermind', having removed the insulation from a bedside bell, pushed it, sending a shock through the unfortunate boy holding the tap! I didn't have such 'initiation' but thought it funny watching other victims. No doubt it would have been even funnier watching the punishment had Frater Doctor discovered such a prank.

 

 

 

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