80
Bauer residence
Oberfohring
AMALIE BAUER STIRRED IN bed as her husband brushed his rough-shaven face against hers with a gentle kiss. “See you tonight,” he whispered.
“Come home to us, Tom,” she whispered back, as she always did. She didn’t need to look at the clock to know that it was just past one in the morning. Tom was off to his brutal shift as a dishwasher.
She awoke again at six, bathed, and dressed for work. She was glad to be returning to routine after spending most of last week at the hospital with her father and mother.
She went downstairs and laid out breakfast—brotchen with honey for Maxine, muesli with milk for Ridley, hard-boiled eggs for her.
Then it was time to wake the children. Ridley, his thick dark hair standing on end, eyes barely open, protested as usual.
Maxine, one year his senior at age seven, rubbed her face and wandered to the bathroom.
They were on their way by seven thirty. They held hands until arriving at the elementary school that her children attended and where she worked, Neue Tagesschule.
Amalie let out a quiet sigh when Ridley ran off to the other first-graders, Maxine the second-graders, putting last week’s ordeal with her father behind her, rejoining the comfort of routine at her school.
First period was math. They were beginning a section on patterns and sequences. Twenty-three children filled the wooden seats inside the classroom, pencil and paper at the ready. Amalie was at the chalkboard, writing equations, when the school principal knocked on the door.
“Yes, Herr Teague?” she said.
“Ah, excuse me, Frau Bauer.” The administrator, a thin man with a receding hairline, cast his eyes downward. “I require you in the office a moment.”
Once Amalie was in the hallway, the principal turned to her. “This was not my decision, Amalie. Far from it.”
“What decision?”
An SA officer emerged from the principal’s office. “Frau Bauer? Frau Amalie Bauer?”
She stopped short of him, her blood boiling. “That is my name.”
The man cleared his throat. “Pursuant to the Law for the Restoration of the Professional Civil Service, you are hereby terminated from your position as teacher.”
“What?” Amalie actually laughed, then immediately frowned and looked at the principal. “I’m fired?”
The principal simply nodded.
“Well, that’s ridiculous!” she cried. “I’ve taught here for eleven years. You can’t just fire—”
“It’s a new law they passed on Friday, while you were out,” said the principal.
“What law?” Amalie demanded.
“The Law for the Restoration of the Professional Civil Service,” the SA trooper repeated. “Banning Jews from civil-service employment. Now, please.” He opened his hand. “Please leave the building.”
“I will not.” Amalie raised her chin. “This is completely ridiculous. I don’t indoctrinate children with my religious faith. I teach them math, science, language.”
“It is hardly the point. Will this be a problem?”
Four more SA troopers emerged from the principal’s office, surrounding Amalie.
She balled her fists and gritted her teeth. Tears formed in her eyes, but she was determined not to let them fall. She thought of her father, beaten within an inch of his life, only now able to return home to heal.
“We can discuss this at the end of the day,” she said to the principal. “For now, I am returning to my class.”
She turned. The SA trooper grabbed her by the arm. She spun and slapped him across the face. Before she could say a word, troopers seized both her arms and forced her to the floor.
The lead trooper, still touching the side of his face that she slapped, looked her in the eye. “Apologize at once,” he said.
“I will not!” she cried, struggling. “Let go of me!”
The leader nodded at the troopers holding her. “Off to protective custody, then,” he said. “We’ll see how your attitude fares in Dachau.”