Nazi Checks
Berlin 1942, Age Seven
We had a radio, a Volksempfänger (folk receiver). Like the Volks-wagen car, it was a plain and simple radio designed to be affordable to the Volk (people). Hitler's voice sounded full of vigor during his speeches on Sundays, and one wouldn't want to be caught not listening! Even I noticed there was concern that someone might be checking, so the radio had to be going, and loud. I remember asking Papa who the man in the radio was, and why he was always yelling. Was he angry? As an answer, Papa put a finger to his lips and whispered “shsht.” It was obvious that I should not have asked. There might be “informers” at work!
At different times, government people (Nazis, Gestapo, or whoever) came around on Sundays, the only day off from work, to check and make sure every household had a picture of Hitler “prominently” displayed and of adequate size. Papa was reprimanded for having only a postcard-size picture, and it happened to be behind the living room door — when open — which was hardly ever used. He told them we could not afford to buy a larger picture, but they made us move the one we had, and it looked ridiculous above the sofa.
Other times they came checking to see what people were cooking. Once a month was Eintopfsonntag (Stew Sunday), meaning we could not cook a roast — not that the ration cards provided enough meat to have a roast. It was quite disagreeable to have a stranger walk into our kitchen and look into the saucepan on the stove. The idea, I found out later, was to force people to cook an inexpensive meal instead of something more special on Sundays, and donate the money to the Nazi Party for the war effort.