“A
universal answer may never be found, but perhaps an examination of just one
family, mine, can provide additional understanding of what paved the way to
Hitler’s success and led to wholesale disaster” (x). This line from Irmgard
Hunt’s memoir, On Hitler’s Mountain: My Nazi Childhood, succinctly
defines the task of her book: to explore the inner workings of Nazi Germany and
its dramatic transformations. In short, the memoir reveals the process of
Hunt’s own realization and acceptance of the future of her country, embodied in
a detailed family history that is closely bound to and influenced by Adolf
Hitler’s political agenda. Divided into four parts, On Hitler’s Mountain
surveys Hunt’s family origins, emphasizing the poverty and desperation which
fostered her parents’ hope and faith in Hitler, and narrates the major events
and turning points in the Second World War with amiable clarity. The text
aligns Hunt’s childhood experiences with the collective feeling of change and
uncertainty shared by others who lived in Nazi Germany. On Hitler’s Mountain
is a refreshing account of World War II that offers an intimate glimpse into
the life of a family that essentially lived in the Fuhrer’s backyard; Hunt’s
memoir blends Nazi with nostalgia, evoking both curiosity and empathy in the
reader.
Hunt’s
introductory prose wavers between painting romanticized vignettes of rural
German life and being laden with minute and uninteresting familial details.
Hunt explores every facet of family life during the early chapters which
describe her youth. Recounting how her grandparents and parents met, and the
various jobs they did to be able to survive occupies much of the initial
chapters. Utilizing anecdotes and interviews from family members throughout the
book, Hunt is able to recount the earliest moments of her childhood, including
her birth, with alarmingly specific detail. She portrays a seemingly normal
childhood; later, as the Nazi philosophy begins to creep into and interfere
with every aspect of it, the reader is amazed with how quickly Hitler’s
influence spreads. Detailing family life is necessary, however, to establish
the nostalgic tone with which Hunt describes Nazi Germany, the seat of her
childhood memories, and to clearly illustrate the attitudes and perceptions of
middle class civilians prior to and during Hitler’s regime.
Hunt’s
narrative personalizes the far-reaching effects of Nazism on civilian life;
throughout the early chapters, she references several episodes in which the
world around her is changing without reason or justification. A minor, but
powerful example is when Hunt describes the traditional Christmas songs her
family used to sing, which are soon replaced by Nazi-approved lyrics.
Christmas, usually regarded as a time of childlike anticipation, is described
as a time of confusion and uncertainty, and serves as a grand metaphor illustrating
how even the steepest of traditions crumbled under Hitler’s iron fist. While On
Hitler’s Mountain seems to move slowly at first, the narration echoes the
gradual infusion of all things Nazi into Hunt’s childhood home. At first,
Nazism seems distant, but it soon becomes very real and concrete. The most
poignant image is that of Hunt being trained by her father to raise her arm in
the ‘Heil, Hitler’ salute in front of his portrait at the tender age of three:
“We stood in front of the Fuhrer’s portrait…I laughed at first and thought we
were playing some kind of game but quickly realized Vati was dead serious. He
insisted I thrust my small arm forward in just the right way” (62).
Descriptions of events such as this one appear in each chapter, and further
illustrate how Hunt’s family regarded Hitler with unwavering reverence.
Of
particular interest is Hunt’s ability to relate history with a distinctly
bifurcated tone. She manages to simultaneously express childlike wonder and
adult wisdom when relaying her experiences. She tells about her childhood
friend Ruthchen, whose name is changed to Ingrid, “one of the most favored
Germanic names” (58). Incredulous, Hunt listens as her mother explains that “it
is better for her not to have a Jewish name” (58). Both curiosity and innocence
are indicated when Hunt explains, “I had no idea what Jewish was, but it could
not be good if you had to give up your name because of it” (58). The wisdom of
adulthood surfaces as Hunt reflects that Mutti explains the name change
“without obvious malice in her voice” (58). Other times, Hunt masters a mixture
of sardonic irony and bitter, unforgiving sarcasm in her prose. She explains
that she never understood whether the beautiful French dolls sent to her and
her sister by Frau Goring as a “special, neighborly gift” when they lost their
father were “paid for or simply taken from occupied France as war booty” (126).
Yet, the dolls remained “wonderful, luxurious toys providing happiness and
escape,” solidifying the ambiguous nature of the gesture (127). The effect of
Hunt’s dual-natured tone is one that emphasizes the uncertainty she felt as a
child experiencing these events, and the sobering truth she realizes as an
adult reflecting upon them.
Items of
historical significance are presented with surprising authority and without
sacrificing conversational narration in On Hitler’s Mountain, mostly
because they are aligned with their immediate effects on Hunt’s family. In the
beginning of the memoir, she effectively summarizes the German distaste for the
Treaty of Versailles and shows the events that propel Hitler’s rise to power.
Throughout the novel, events throughout the war such as the invasion of
Czechoslovakia, the annex of the Sudetenland, and most importantly for Hunt,
the invasion of Poland in 1939 are intertwined with her family history,
presenting them as significant markers in her lifetime. She writes:
Three
months after my birthday trip to Salzburg, Hitler sent fifty German divisions
into Poland…Eight months after the invasion, I saw Mutti’s face fall as she
read the official letter that called my father, now thirty-four, to join the
army. The reality of war and the inevitability of our personal involvement
suddenly became clear to her in a way it had not before. (104-5)
Rather
than a smattering of the dates and objectives of military campaigns, treaties,
or political agendas, these significant historical moments are directly linked
to personal experience. Briefly recounting an incident in which her neighbor’s
invalid child is taken away by Nazis, Hunt reveals the darkest details of
Hitler’s euthanasia program from a childlike perspective. The reader
appreciates her inclusion of historical detail, which is unassumingly
presented. Her prose, colored by the German language, makes the history both
accessible and interesting, if only relevant because it directly impacts her
daily routine.
At times,
Hunt’s use of German phrases is daunting in frequency, but is both interesting
and meaningful. Each chapter is filled with German words and expressions that
authenticate the memoir and recreate the era. It is clear that Hunt maintains
an affinity for her mother tongue, not only because of the sheer amount of
German words which are used, but also because of the careful selection of words
that convey both nostalgia and great emotional depth. Likely familiar with the
lexicon of the Second World War, the average reader will recognize words like Luftwaffe
and Lebensraum. Words like Setzkasten, however, are ones the
reader learns to appreciate: “Every first-grader had a Setzkasten, a
flat wooden case, about the size of a cigar box, containing tiny cardboard
rectangles depicting upper and lowercase letters stashed in small individual
compartments” (l09). A tool used to form syllables and words, the Setzkasten
that Hunt inherited from an older child was missing several of its original
cardboard letters. On her father’s last furlough after six months of service in
France, he “drew [her] a whole supply of beautiful, black Gothic letters that
were just as good as the printed ones” (109). The Setzkasten is a
meaningful object for Hunt, especially after her father’s death. Hunt provides,
when available, direct English translations for German words. Other times, she
includes brief descriptions or definitions that help familiarize the reader
with concepts or items specific to Nazi German culture, such as the Familien
Stammbuch (family record book) and the Mutterkreuz (Mother’s Cross).
Photographs
and captions further personalize the memoir and strengthen its overall impact.
The staunch, hard faces of Hunt’s ancestors stare from the pages like proud
sentries guarding her story. Adding dimensions of realism and nostalgia, the
photographs acquaint the reader with the members of Hunt’s family who were most
affected by the war and provide visual representation of how hard life in Nazi
Germany truly was. There are just as many, if not more, images of Adolph Hitler
himself, including a brooding, yet intimate, profile of him surveying the
landscape on Obersalzburg. A striking portrait of Hitler holding two small,
distinctly Aryan children on his lap evokes fear and discomfort: the children’s
faces flanking Hitler’s posed, political smile appear confused and worried,
searching the reader for help and comfort.
Hunt includes
not only photographs of people, but also of objects and places that are
directly related to her story. A favorite image is one of “decorative bowls
with alpine flowers” painted by Hunt’s father, who worked as a painter in a
china factory (56). Images of her mother’s diaries and financial recordkeeping
reiterate Hitler’s direct influence on the family; her mother’s hand logged
small contributions to the Nazi party and proudly announced the Fuhrer’s
birthday in her personal journals. The captions to these photographs are as
much a part of the memoir as the images they accompany; not only do they
provide an explanation for what is in each picture, but they also offer
uncluttered, powerful statements. Another significant image is a portrait of a
smiling Hunt at her school desk, pressing a pen to paper, simply captioned, “In
spite of everything, I learn to write” (132).
Readers
will marvel at anecdotes that reveal what life in Nazi Germany was like for
school-aged children. Descriptions of emergency preparedness training at school
illustrate Hunt and her classmates learning to breathe through gas masks and
evacuate to bomb shelters. Hunt recounts a conversation with a school teacher
who bribes her with cookies to repeat the condemning things her grandfather had
to say about Hitler. Most appalling, however, is a passage that describes the
principal of Hunt’s elementary school forcing her to repeatedly greet him with
“Heil Hitler” outside his office door until he is satisfied with her
performance and lets her in; the end result is a nine-year old reduced to tears
because her salute does not, in the principal’s opinion, show the appropriate
amount of respect to the Fuhrer’s name. Later, she is treated like a
pseudo-celebrity by adults who find out she lives in close proximity to Hitler
and has even been photographed sitting on his knee; this revelation causes her
to be favored by her fanatical Nazi teachers, who rejoice in having her stand
in front of her classmates and recite the gruesome details of how her father died
fighting for Hitler. He is the presence that looms over every fact of her
childhood, lurking throughout the school day as she is educated, smiling from
the painted faces of the dolls sent by Frau Goring, hiding in the words of
holiday songs, and living on the mountain just beyond her home.
The first
half of the memoir is dedicated to describing a life that is eventually
consumed by Nazism; the latter half describes the end of the war and the
process of unraveling Hitler’s hold on those who had been so devoted to him.
Reviewer Dale Farris writes, “Hunt's is a precautionary reminder of what can
happen when an ordinary society chooses a cult of personality over rational
thought” (The Library Journal). A significant portion of the latter
chapters illustrates the effects of this choice, exploring Mutti’s own varied
reactions to the reality of what Hitler had done to their beloved Germany:
anger, disappointment, guilt, shame, and eventually, peace. Though the memoir
is largely about Hunt’s personal thoughts and experiences, a great deal of the
book is dependent on the changing attitudes of her family members as they begin
to realize the truth. One reviewer notes that the memoir “[ends] with some
sense of closure among the family members… [and] satisfies the reader that the
author has made peace with her family and with her own bizarre upbringing”
(Scott). Hunt herself explains that “Slowly the stigma of being German has
receded, and I am coming to terms with the memories of my life as a girl on
what for a short, dark time was Hitler’s mountain” (318). Her book is a living
testament for anyone who lived, like her, in those uncertain and fearful times
and searched for first for answers, and later for reconciliation; it preserves
the aspects of childhood worth nostalgia and gives new life to those that were
absorbed and destroyed by Nazi culture.
Works Cited
“Book
Summary and Media Reviews: On Hitler’s Mountain.” Book Browse. 18
Sept.
Farris,
Dale. Rev. of On Hitler’s Mountain by Irmgard Hunt. The Library
Journal. .”
Book
Browse. 18 Sept.
2008. http://www.bookbrowse.com/reviews/index.cfm?book_number=1544
Hunt,
Irmgard. On Hitler’s Mountain: My Nazi Childhood. London: Atlantic
Books, 2005.
Scott,
Barbara Bamberger. Rev. of On Hitler’s Mountain by Irmgard Hunt. Curled
Up With a Good Book. 20 September 2008. http://www.curledup.com/hitlersm.htm
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