Armageddon_ A Novel of Berlin - Leon Uris [110]
But this was the best that could be arranged. Heinrich had been thoroughly indoctrinated that these housing conditions were a result of the first war, the counterrevolution, the devotion to industrialization, and the pressure of the imperialist countries. His mother seemed quite content with her lot, particularly the good fortune of her son.
Several months after their arrival, Heinrich Hirsch stood on the stage of the auditorium of School #78. Above the stage hung a great portrait of Stalin, and in blood-red lettering his words, THERE IS NO FORTRESS THE BOLSHEVIKS CANNOT STORM!
He received a red scarf in a ceremony making him a member of the Pioneers and repeated the oath: “I solemnly promise in the presence of my comrades and parents that as a Pioneer of the Soviet Union I will fight bravely for the interests of the working class and to safeguard the sacred legacy of Lenin.”
Then a buckle, engraved with five logs representing the five continents and the three flames of the fire of International Communism, was slipped on the scarf.
This was the formal opening of his religious studies. Denied the God of his mother, he adopted Communism as his religion. Karl Marx was god, Lenin the son of god, and Stalin the great disciple.
Their writings were studied as meticulously as a Jesuit studies Christianity, and under greater discipline. Like all religions, this one, too, promised a heaven that seemed beyond the reach of the living.
The first time Heinrich Hirsch knew mortal fear it came in the form of Nazis and Brownshirts marching in jackboots.
This time it came on a knock on the door in the middle of the night. The purges!
There were new banner headlines and inflamed speeches and the loudspeakers harangued: SPIES! TRAITORS! FASCIST HIRELINGS! AGENTS! SPECULATORS! SWINDLERS! DEVIATIONISTS! PROVOCATEURS! TROTSKYITES! MUTINEERS!
There was advice to FIND THEM! SHOOT THEM! DESTROY THEM!
And each new blast ended with a solemn prayer: LONG LIVE COMRADE STALIN AND OUR GLORIOUS COMMUNIST PARTY!
Things began to change at School #78. Almost overnight the food became gruel, like that of the rest of the Russians, and the pampering stopped. One by one teachers disappeared; the parties, the weekend dances, the fun and laughter stopped.
On a Saturday, eighteen months after his arrival in Moscow, Heinrich Hirsch went one day to the room of his mother. The door was sealed and padlocked. Frantically, the boy tried to open it, then ran through the house pleading with everyone, one by one, to try to find out what had happened. No one heard anything, saw anything, knew anything.
Three weeks later he received a postcard. The message was printed. The signature might have been his mother’s. It read: “I have been guilty of provocations and confessed to treason against the Soviet Union and have voluntarily accepted deportation to Siberia. Forget about me.”
Mother a traitor of the Soviet Union! Impossible! Impossible!
Then, other children of School #78 went out on weekends and found sealed doors and received postcards from parents confessing to treason.
The teachers were too frightened to speak about it, but after a time the students talked among themselves. Each one knew that his own parent was not guilty, but the intense indoctrination paid off. They each came to justify the fact there would be a few mistakes of justice under the urgencies of the times.
Despite this black mark against him, Heinrich Hirsch had shown such great skill in political studies that he came to the second stage in his career as a Communist. He was called for an interview with the possibility of joining Komsomol, the Young Communist League.
He recited his new duties flawlessly:
“To study the works of Marx, Engels, Lenin, and our beloved Stalin; to encourage the masses toward our ideals; to carry out all resolutions, proclamations, and edicts of the Supreme Soviet and the Communist Party without question; to protect our great socialist heritage with sacrifice;