As the working day began early for the free citizens of Dresden, so too were their children making their way to their schools, finding out whether they were open that day, assiduous about studies even in the increasing chaos around them. There had been extensive disruptions to timetables and schools had frequently closed, often to conserve fuel; children instead were left to play winter games in the city’s parks and in the wooded suburbs. Some classrooms had been converted into makeshift field hospitals for wounded men brought back from the eastern front.
Any German child under thirteen in 1945 had grown up knowing nothing other than Nazi rule; this, to them, was the natural order of the world. Those few whose parents secretly questioned the order of things behind closed doors must have felt conflicted when asked to learn and repeat the propaganda so willingly absorbed by their classmates. Among the smarter establishments in the city – certainly in terms of academic pride and attainment – was the Vitzthum-Gymnasium, the school attended by Dr Fromme’s elder son Friedrich.
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