During the trial, even complete strangers ruthlessly trampled the last intact piece of porcelain. Dirt and malice made reconciliation with my wife impossible.
No one dared to mention that despite the grave transgression, I was also a caring father and dutiful student. The only thing that seemed important was that I had failed as a comrade. ‘Here I am, poor fool!’ I could have said with Goethe, but I remembered the essentials: Above all, I needed work, because food, drink and housing had to be paid for, and no one took the obligations to my children off my hands.
I remembered the fleet, where I had often helped out as a driver. ‘Well, time again?’ the boss welcomed me. ‘A lot of time,’ I replied, describing my situation to him, and asking for permanent employment. I hoped to be able to ask for suitable work in many companies during the tours with the truck.
The plan worked. After just under three months, I found a job as a technologist in a nationally owned company that manufactured water treatment plants and assembled them in a wide variety of large enterprises. As a trained welder, this job suited me very well. In addition, it was a work collective that you only find once in a lifetime.
I quickly learned the ropes, and my performance was recognized. It didn’t occur to me to finish my studies under these conditions. But my attentive department head, who always just called me ‘Manne,’ disagreed. ‘You finish your studies!’ he kept reminding me.
I ignored his urging until he sent me to the institute by directive, armed with my study book. Disgruntled, I set off. When I entered the secretary’s office, the head secretary welcomed me with my name and added: ‘You surely want to finish your studies?’
There was no question of wanting to, I had to because my department head wanted it that way. Luck was on my side. With the help of the secretary, I found a mentor who assigned me a scientific topic on children’s and youth literature to work on.
I successfully defended the written exam paper and was dismissed not as a specialist teacher, but as a graduate teacher. This was because the Pedagogical Institute had become a university during my absence. I am eternally grateful to my former department head, because during my entire professional life I was listed in my cadre file as a university cadre with a diploma, while my former fellow students finished their studies as technical college teachers. Life does not always punish the one who is late.
I had finally regained my footing and my self-confidence. The divorce had long since gone through, and my attempt to find a solution with Marga for raising our children together had failed. Without asking me, she had exchanged our AWG apartment for another in the big chemical city and was obviously trying to erase all traces of the past.
Unmistakably and coldly, she explained to me that she had not the slightest interest in raising our two boys together. I was to ensure the punctual payment of alimony and leave the other to her. That left me standing outside the door. I could have sued her, but that would have been of little use to my children. 𝓣𝓸 𝓑𝓮 𝓒𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓾𝓮𝓭…
This is a supporter-funded publication. To receive new contributions and promote my work, become a subscriber: