Albert Einstein History Class Age 16

History Class Fall 1894

                                          Albert 16 Years Old 

The room was filled with wooden desks. Students were seated in three regimented double rows facing the wall-to-wall blackboard at the front of the room.

Albert made his way to a seat at the end of one of the rows. Dropping his books on the desk he searched for Johann. He was surprised to see his friend sitting next to Wilhelm Von Wiesel. When Johann glanced up, Albert gestured for his friend to sit next to him. Johann shook his head and looked down, unable to meet Albert’s eyes. Frowning, Albert shrugged and sat as a blond boy took what was to have been Johann’s seat.

Teacher Dieter Hamlin spoke while he wrote on the blackboard, “What… does it… mean… to be… German?” Dressed in a simple dark green wool suit, the tall, white haired gentleman stood stiffly erect. He turned to face the class.” Today we will discuss the Franco-Prussian War of 1870 and its impact on the people of Germany. Can anyone tell the class how the war of 1870 changed Germany? ”

The boy in the desk next to Albert raised a hand.

Hamlin gestured with chalk, “Yes Herr Frederick?”

Ulrich Frederick stood, cleared his throat, and precisely stated his answer. “Prussian and German victory brought about the final unification of Germany. It was under King Wilhelm I of Prussia.”

Hamlin, facing the class, crossed his arms. “Who were the two military leaders who conducted the war?”

Werner Von Wiesel, the privileged class bully, shouted in a bored tone from his seat. “Napoleon III for France and Bismarck for Germany.”

Hamlin nodded, “Good.” Then he smiled. “You know, Herr Von Wiesel, I served under your father during the Franco-Prussian War.”

Werner puffed himself up as he stood.  “Yes, Herr Hamlin. When my father talks of the war he often mentions you and your bravery as a soldier.” All eyes on him, Werner smiled and straightened his waistcoat.” My father feels that all Germany should have helped the Prussians.”

In a strong voice, Hamlin stabbed the blackboard with his index finger. “The young of our nation need to be reminded of who we are. So, tell me, Herr Von Wiesel, what does it mean to be German?”

“Werner pulled his shoulders back, and thrust out his chest, saying, “To be German means to be STRONG!”

Hamlin nodded approvingly then turned to Albert’s seatmate. “Herr Frederick, what do you say it means to be a German.”

Herr Frederick said, “That one is brave and honorable,” then sat with near military precision.

All eyes turned to Albert. He stood to answer but before he could get a word out, Werner spat out, “You’re a Jew, not a German. You’re a foreigner who will disgrace the German army when you get drafted next year.”

Albert glared at Werner, putting his hands on his hips, “I only want to be a scientist. I will not serve in the Army; I do not believe in war.” Albert stood his ground, thinking to himself, “What an arrogant loudmouth.”

Werner turned and gave Johann a wicked wink. He pointed at Albert and taunted, “As you can see by his comment, Herr Hamlin, our Jew is a coward.”

Albert face reddened as his anger rose. “To my mind, compulsory military service is the prime cause of moral decay. It threatens not just the survival of our country, but of our very civilization!”

Hamlin removed his spectacles and polished them with a clean white handkerchief. In a stern voice he warned, “Careful Herr Einstein, you could face imprisonment if you do not serve.” Holding his glasses up to the light and approving of their cleanliness, he said, “After all, the German National Army and universal military service were organized after the Franco-Prussian war. Bismarck’s vision brought about the victory over Napoleon III that led to the unification of our nation. You wouldn’t challenge that, now would you?”

Albert clenched his jaw but held his tongue as Hamlin continued after a pause. “Napoleon III surrendered in January 1871 after being under siege from Sept 19, 1870. The treaty of Frankfurt was signed on May 10, 1871. France ceded Alsace, except Belfort and eastern Lorraine to Germany.” Hamlin put his spectacles back on, saying, “The German army could occupy northern France until we received payment of five billion Francs. Now, Germany has the strongest economy on the Continent thanks to this war.” Hamlin started to turn, then turned back. “And the strongest military!”

Once again turning his gaze from Albert, Hamlin said, “I am going to end our discussion of what it means to be German and move on to other topics. However, I want each of you to attend the Volkisch rally this evening. It is at the Englischer Garden.” Straightening the sparse items on his already meticulously neat desk, he instructed, “Be prepared to give your answer to my question in our next class.”

Albert frowned, thinking about the rally that was sure to be filled with anti-Semitic rhetoric. Those thoughts kept him distracted for the rest of the period. The nationalistic talk that promoted violence and hatred was becoming more prevalent by the day.

When Herr Hamlin dismissed class, Albert gathered his books then looked to where Johann had been sitting. His friend was no longer there. In fact, Albert did not see him anywhere in the rapidly emptying room. Leaving the classroom he resumed his search outside the building.

He eventually found Johann huddled under a tree facing away from the gymnasium. Walking up to his friend, Albert softly addressed him. “Johann?” The boy cringed at the sound.

Albert carefully sat on the ground next to Johann. “What’s the matter, my friend?” Johann would not look at Albert and only shook his head, nervously glancing around.” Puzzled, Albert tried again. “So, why did you sit with Werner today? You and I usually sit together.”

A forlorn whimper escaped Johann’s lips. With pain in his eyes he turned to his friend. “Albert I know we have been friends for years, but that can no longer be.”

Albert gasped as if he’d been hit in the stomach. Johann was more brother than friend. Johann looked down and said, “Things are changing in Germany. Bullies like Wilhelm…”

Albert nodded. “…are rising in popularity and influence. I know.”

“Yes,” said Johann bleakly. “It’s gotten to the point that harm will come to my family and me if I remain friends with you.”

Albert’s eyes began to fill with tears, but compassion and understanding also reflected from them. “You’re right. It’s getting that ugly.” Albert’s heart filled with resolve. “We cannot let anything happen to you or your family because of me and mine.” Albert gripped Johann’s arm. “We will not surrender to this type of hatred…but we will go along with what must be done to keep you safe. For now.”

Now tears spilled onto Johann’s cheeks. He looked into Albert’s eyes and said, “I knew you would understand. You are a better man than I am, Albert.” He squeezed Albert’s arm again as he made his way to his feet. “And…thank you, Albert. We will find a way through this. I know we will.”

Albert could only nod as he watched his friend walk away. “We will find a way.” But he sighed as he got back up. “But God only knows how long it will take and what will happen in the meantime.”

 Albert shook his head and walked back toward the school building, a cold feeling of dread filling his stomach and sadness weighing down his heart.

*     *      *

The German brass band played the National Anthem Das Deutchlandlied. The opening words called to all Germans to bond together. Tears streamed down many faces in the crowd of hundreds of the Volkisch North-German Confederation. Their voices rang out in the open-air amphitheater of the Englischer Garden.

Deutschland, Deutschland, Uber Alles -- Germany, Germany above everything.

Above everything in the world

When, for protection and defense,

it always takes a brotherly stand together.

From the Meuse to the Memel,

From the Adige to the Belt, 

Germany, Germany above everything, 

Above everything in the world! :

The song ended with a roaring cheer. Standing in the midst of the crowd Wilhelm Von Wiesel joined with his fellow history classmates in surrendering to the frenzy. Sweat ran down his pale face and steamed up his round wire-rimmed spectacles.

On the bandstand sat Wilhelm’s barrel-chested father. Gunter Von Wiesel, all five-feet-ten-inches of him, was practically vibrating with near-religious fervor. The aristocratic Prussian anti-Semite wore his blue regimental uniform. An officer in the Kaiser’s Army, Colonel Von Wiesel did not consider Jews to be Germans; he barely considered them to be human. He nodded to his former comrade, his son’s history teacher, Dieter Hamlin. Hamlin responded with a seated bow, awe for the colonel in his eyes.

Hans Torbiger, leader of the North-German Volkisch Confederation, waved his ebony top hat. His jet-black handlebar mustache and precisely trimmed beard gleamed in the amphitheater’s lights. He wore a formal waistcoat and pearled ascot. As the raucous crowd settled down, Torbiger shouted. “My friends, we face a terrible problem. We have an enemy within. That enemy is none other than the Jew!”

The crowd went wild with shouts of agreement. Torbiger gestured with his hands to quiet the crowd. “Jews are not like us!”

The crowd muttered in agreements, many heads nodding.

“Jews are not merely a different religious community, but are an altogether different race!” Torbiger stated flatly.

Murmurs of agreement could be heard throughout the crowd.

“The Jew is a stranger,” Torbiger continued, “who emigrated from Asia. He is a disease eating into the flesh of Germany.”

The rumblings of the crowd grew louder.

“Exploitation of the true people is his only aim. Selfishness and a lack of personal courage are his chief characteristics. Self-sacrifice and patriotism are altogether foreign to him.” Torbiger ended his speech with a warning. “Be wary of the Jew—he weakens the fatherland!”

Speaker after speaker spewed forth poisonous, inflammatory remarks and exhortations of hatred. Finally fervor began to cool. After the last speaker had made his anti-Semitic point, the crowd began to disperse. Wilhelm joined his father and they turned toward their home. 

“What did you think of the rally, Wilhelm?”

“It was wonderful! Inspiring. I could not agree more that the Jew is a scourge upon our nation,” Wilhelm said with a scowl.

The elder Von Wiesel nodded. “When your mother and I were first married I went to the Jew banker for a loan to buy a house. The Yid refused. Apparently we did not meet his Jew standard.”

Wilhelm shook his head. “Typical.” Gunter nodded. “When we fought the Franco-Prussian War I refused to allow a single Jew in my regimen. They are cowards all.”

The elder Von Wiesel paused, then said, “You know, Wilhelm, I named you after the Kaiser. I have hopes you will be a great leader.”

“I will do my very best, father,” the boy answered with resolve.

But, Gunter was not so sure. This fair-haired boy resembled his doe-eyed mother more than his stout, staunch father.

Wilhelm gazed up in awe of his papa. He felt small and weak in the shadow of his hero. He knew deep down his father would never see him as the strong German he knew himself to be. Somehow, he resolved, he would find a way to show his father just how strong he was.

Albert Einstein Meets Issac Newton

Albert loved to walk. Walking made his mind fresher and he would snap his fingers with the fast rhythm of each step. Humming a tune to keep pace with, he breathed in the cool, fall air. Before long, Albert found himself in Marienplatz, the heart of Munich.

Young couples and families milled through the streets of the city’s downtown. The crowds gathered to watch the Glockenspiel show.

Albert gazed up at the towering Gothic Clock, with its’ thirty-two carved figurines. They seemed to touch the sky. Every day at 11 a.m., the Glockenspiel chimed. It re-enacted the 16th century marriage and celebration of the local Duke, Wilhelm V, to Renata of Lorraine. The clock displayed a joust with life-sized knights on horseback resplendent in their local colors: white and blue for the Bavarians and red and white for the Lothringen champions. The Bavarian knight won every time. The clock’s dance lasted around 12 minutes, and at the end of the show, a tiny golden bird at the top of the Glockenspiel chirped three times.

As the marvelous spectacle came to an end and the people began to walk away, a small, almost hidden door at the clock tower’s base opened soundlessly. The movement caught Albert’s eye and he frowned. For all the times he’d walked past the clock tower, he’d never noticed a door. Noting that no one else seemed to be paying attention to it, he turned and walked toward the opening.

Gazing into the dark entryway, Albert saw an engraved metal sign, “No Entrance”. But the open door beckoned and he stepped over the threshold. Once inside, the door slowly swung shut. Albert reached out and pulled the gargoyle shaped wrought iron handle, but the door seemed firmly closed. He began to struggle with the door, but the tick…tock…tick…tock of the clock’s inner workings caught his attention and he stopped tugging. “What could be inside this magnificent timepiece?” he wondered, as the possibilities began running around in his mind.

Following the internal beating of the Clock Tower’s heart, Albert moved toward a spiral staircase. The only light in the hallway came from high above him. Tick…Tock…Tick…Tock. Albert stepped to the beat of the clock and round and round he rose. Time seemed to stand still as he climbed. He stopped at the top of the steps, then the shining light drew him to a massive, carved, wooden door and Albert approached it.

The door was partially opened and, peering into the room, Albert’s gaze landed on a large mahogany desk. Then Albert noticed the man seated at the desk. He looked to be around 50 years of age and had soft, silver, shoulder length hair. He was dressed in a white, long-sleeved peasant shirt and dark brown leather breeches. Arrayed on the desk in front of him were quill pens with pots of ink, stacks of paper and, on the right corner of the desk, an apple. The entire back wall of the room was lined with shelves stocked with ancient-looking volumes and a number of brass candlesticks holding candles that cast a soft glow into the room. In the ceiling of the room was some sort of skylight through which a beam of sunlight streamed.

The man at the desk held a triangular shaped crystal up to the beam of light and the refracted light of the polished crystal threw a rainbow of colors onto the wall. The man smiled with satisfaction.

Albert saw the rainbow and murmured to himself, “Sir Isaac Newton’s theory is that white light is a composite of all the colors of the spectrum.”

The man looked up from the rainbows and smiled at Albert. “Well said Albert, so glad you made your way in here to visit.” Albert’s jaw dropped. “How did you…?” The man held up his hand and smiled. “All in good time, my boy.” He rose from his chair and walked to Albert, holding out his hand. “My name is Isaac. And, please, sit down.” Speechless Albert stumbled into a chair in front of the desk as Isaac returned to his seat.

“I know who you are Albert,” Isaac said with a kind smile. “You must not concern yourself too deeply with what you are learning now. You have grasped The Mathematical Principles of Natural Philosophy. Let that be the foundation of your work that is to come.” Isaac picked up the apple on his desk and gently tossed it to Albert. “Gravity, the universe, space, distance, and motion are your future.” Catching the apple, Albert nodded as the ticking of the massive clock pulled at his awareness. Tick...tock…tick…tock….

Tick…tock…Ringgggggggg. The alarm clock next to Albert’s bed screamed at him. Albert sat bolt upright and struggled to reorient himself. Vacillating between the dream and waking reality, Albert let himself fall back onto his pillow. He turned his head to see what time it was. There on the table next to the alarm clock, sat an apple. “What the…?” Albert groaned.

Albert pulled himself from his bed and began dressing as he considered the implications of what he had dreamed. The more he thought about it, the more excited he became. Buttoning the last button of his shirt and throwing on his jacket, Albert dashed out of the house to investigate the Glockenspiel.

He jumped on his bike and pedaled as fast as he could to the Clock Tower. The sun met him as it rose in the early morning over the city. He raced to the scene of his dream, thinking, “I must be going crazy.” He found the center of Munich still asleep. He dismounted and walked to where he entered the tower in his dream. There was no door. Albert felt the cold stone with his hands seeking a crack or a hinge; anything that would reveal the presence of an entryway. He encountered nothing but the rough stone surface. He looked up and found no windows or radiating light other than the sunlight that glistened in the early dawn.

Disappointed, he turned away from the tower, went back to his bicycle, and slowly headed back to his home. As he rode away, the tiny golden bird at the top of the Glockenspiel chirped three times.