[The following is taken from a memoir of Irmgard A. Hunt, who grew up in the mountains under Hitler’s Eagles Nest during the Second World War.]
The morning after we got the death notice, my teacher, Fräulein Stöhr, a fanatical Nazi, ordered me to stand up in front of the class and tell everyone how proud I was that my father had given his life for the Führer. I stood before those hundred children, my face burning, my heart thumping. I clenched my fists and swallowed hard, determined not to cry or otherwise show anyone how I felt. I forced myself to drain all emotion from my voice, even forcing my mouth into a grin, and said, “Yes, we heard yesterday that my father died in France for the Führer. Heil Hitler.”
My face was flushed, but I made sure to walk calmly back to my seat. No one said a word to me.
Source:
Hunt, Irmgard A. “Early Sacrifice.” On Hitler’s Mountain: Overcoming the Legacy of a Nazi Childhood. New York: Harper Collins Publishers, 2005. 111-12. Print.
Further Reading:
Thats tough. Its like losing your US soldier father. "He died for our freedom"
Still hurts to lose your father