Chris’s flesh crawled as Jules described the teaching environment. Adolf Hitler’s system of education, described in Mein Kampf, was inscribed on a poster displayed beside the portrait of the Führer that hung in every classroom. It stated Hitler’s aim to stamp out weakness by producing “a violent, masterful, dauntless, cruel younger generation,” Jules recited with a disgusted quiver of his upper lip.

“The Führer”—Jules spat out the word as if it were a piece of spoiled meat—“is fanatical about the importance of physical education for German youth. He wants a student to be ‘swift as a greyhound, tough as leather, and hard as Krupp’s steel,’ to quote the student handbook.” Jules leaned forward with his elbows on the table. “As repulsive as you will find it, Herr Bauer, you will be expected to achieve those goals. You will be responsible primarily for field and track events within an arduous program that includes gymnastics, swimming, boxing, fencing, and warfare tactics and drills. These fill much of the school day. True academic studies take last place.”

“What kind of warfare tactics and drills?”

Jules’s mouth turned down. “The children are taught hand-to-hand combat and how to throw a grenade, use a bayonet, dig a trench and dugout, shoot a pistol—insanities of that sort, all instructed as competitive games and sports but certainly not with the aim of teaching the participants fair play. The students are divided into teams and work as one unit. The entire team has to pass every course. One fails, they all do. There are no individuals. Peer pressure, sanctioned and encouraged by the instructors, is the tool that keeps everyone striving to do their best.” Jules leaned back as if exhausted and added bitterly, “You can see how such a program can lead to horrible bullying of the weakest link.”

Chris had listened, appalled, thinking how well Dirk Drechsler would have fit into the Hitlerjugend. “I assume there’s someone in charge of this mad program?”

“You assume right. Louis Mueller, the sports director. A snake. Handpicked for the job and a nasty bastard through and through. You’ll have to be on your guard around him, especially watchful on a personal level. The instructor you’re replacing resigned because he simply could not stomach subjecting seven- and eight-year-olds to such an unconscionable regimen. Mueller had hoped to tap a friend for the job, but your—how do you say?—bona fides beat his qualifications. He’ll despise you from the start. Also you must be very careful of the regular teaching staff. I don’t know who is to be trusted. There are spies even among the janitorial crew.”

“Does this school have a name?” Chris asked.

Jules laughed scornfully. “Academy for the Young Warriors of the Third Reich.”