ABSTRACT
I was seventeen in 1938. I passed my exams for an Abitur diploma in February, and I left the country in November. I read every newspaper I could lay my hands on—politics vied with sports. I somehow managed an equal interest in Rudolf Harbig, a track star and Rudolf Hess, Hitler’s deputy at the time. I listened to more radio broadcasts than was good for me, yet I was barely aware of the connection between politics and everyday life. Politics seemed to be something rather esoteric, which possibly might have some meaning for a few people in Berlin, Paris, and London and which in itself might well be an important subject, like for instance the study of philosophy. However, I felt that the ordinary mortal could not possibly have any influence on politics, and it was therefore best ignored. Life would go on somehow.
