Request Denied
Marcus Aurelius
I know my behavior can be... *erratic* sometimes.
August 1914
Munich, Bavaria
German Empire
"Your request is denied."
He stood there, dumbstruck, as the seated lieutenant looked up from his official papers and shrugged.
"Denied?" he muttered angrily, tiredly. "How, why?"
The Bavarian Army leutnant leaned forward, fingers crossed with a disappointed look on his face.
"Mein herr, you were denied enlistment into the Bavarian Army for two reasons. One is your health. You are as thin and pale as a ghost, good sir, and I doubt you could carry an infantryman's kit into the field without collapsing either from the weight or heart attack. On health grounds alone you would be disqualified from service."
The Bavarian enlistment officer snorted, either clearing his nose or in contempt.
"The second reason is that you are Austrian, sir. The Austro-Hungarian Empire is an ally of Germany and therefore you, a citizen of said nation, cannot join the armed forces of the German Empire."
"I will not join an army of mongrel races. I want to join the brave men of Germany!" An idea struck him, "I will write a petition! I will… I will go to another recruitment center in Germany. Bavaria may have denied me, but the Fatherland is hungry for soldiers! Surely one will allow me to enlist. Surely one will take me in." Desperation seized him as he stood before the seated officer. A manic look befell the sickly man from Austria, causing his dark blue eyes to dart about the room, as if searching for an answer that refused to reveal itself.
The Bavarian officer leaned back into his chair, a scowl upon his face. Behind the sickly disheveled man stood dozens of other men, far more healthy in appearance and more controlled in manner, awaiting to enlist and fight for King and Kaiser. They shuffled impatiently and many stared daggers at the dark haired Austrian who was delaying their patriotic duty.
"Sir, you attempted to enlist in the Bavarian Army six months ago. You were denied then, just as you are denied now. Nothing has changed."
The dejected man slammed his hands down on the wooden table separating the two men. "Everything has changed! The world is at war! Soon enough the armies of empires will march across Europe, Africa and Asia. Nations will fall whilst others rise, and glory and honor will be for those who dared to fight in this war, it being the greatest endeavor Mankind has ever faced. We are brothers, you and I. German, Austrian, two sides of the same coin. Our language is the same, our love for Germany is the same. Don't let pedantics of birth and nationality dilute the German blood that flows through my veins. I may be an Austrian by birth but I am a German by blood. I deserve a chance to fight for the Vaterland and for its people. It is my right. "
The officer raised an eyebrow, minutely impressed with the passionate fervor of the man before him… but orders were orders, the rules and regulations in place must be followed. Not even an impassioned Austrian could bend the rules.
"I'm sorry, but the answer is the same. You are denied entry into the Bavarian Army and will continue to be denied based on your poor health and foreign citizenship. Neither the Bavarian Army nor the German Army will accept you into its ranks. I, as military representative of His Majesty Ludwig III of the Kingdom of Bavaria and Kaiser Wilhelm II of the German Empire, bid you farewell."
The Austrian slumped, his soul sapped of its energetic will. He turned and walked out of the recruitment office, eyes downcast at the concrete floor, unable to even look at those men who would go on to fight for Germany.
Germany, the Fatherland he never had. A nation of Germans for Germans, a place he could call home and a country he had come to love in his months of living in Munich. He had hoped that with the outbreak of war the requirements for enlistment would have lowered. But he was wrong, and now he was defeated. What was he to do? He had only a couple of Goldmarks in his pocket, the remnants of his family inheritance, his clothes were worn thin, rough, and patchwork. He had not showered in days and his stomach rumbled from hunger, a minor pain wracking his abdomen.
Grimacing, he turned to walk… somewhere. He didn't know where to go anymore.
"Hey, you!" called a voice from behind, coming from the recruitment center. The Austrian turned, excited, thinking that at last the officer had come to his senses. But instead of the portly mustachioed officer, a man about his age with dark hair and eyes approached him, a friendly smile on his face.
He noticed the gentleman's expensive clothes and top hat, and the way he walked, assured as if nothing would ever deny him or be out of reach. The Austrian could almost smell the wealth coming off of the man. While he detested the wealthy elite, many of whom were Jews, he nonetheless smiled and tried to present a friendly face. It was after all what he did to help sell his art down in the Kunstareal.
"Hello," said the rich man as he neared, holding out his hand. "I must say I loved your speech back there. Really fired up the flames of patriotism in myself! Well done, well done indeed!"
"Oh, umm, thank you. Much obliged, herr-"
"Walter Schulz at your service!" The man took off his hat and gave a small bow while smiling.
Good God, he is like the theatre in the flesh, he thought sardonically.
"Herr Schulz. Thank you for your kind words. They have lifted my spirits somewhat."
"It's a damn shame you weren't admitted. We could use you in the Army. Like you said, you might be an Austrian by birth but you're a German by blood. And it'll be that same noble blood that sees our two countries emerge victorious in the months ahead."
"Thank you, that means a great deal to me," he said, truly touched by the man's comments. A brief silence existed between them, the nearly-penniless Austrian not knowing what to say and the rich German having spoken his piece.
"Well I'm sure you're busy, Herr Schulz, and I must be off as well. I have… other matters to attend to."
Schulz's eyes flicked over his appearance and a look of pity flashed over the well-to-do German's face.
"I see, yes, of course, I'm sure you are quite busy." Schulz went for another handshake but with the opposite hand, it having emerged from his pocket. The Austrian shook it awkwardly, eager to end this odd meeting, and felt something in the man's palm slip into his. He looked at it and saw a fifty Goldmark banknote. His eyes widened and he stared up at the taller man.
"I-" his tongue felt stiff and dry so he swallowed. "I don't know what to say other than thank you." The relief and honesty in those words poured forth with conviction.
"That's more than enough for me. While you may not be able to fight for Germany directly, perhaps you could do so in another way by joining your nation's army. Our countries share the same enemies after all. You would still be fighting for Germany, if indirectly. I overheard your comment about fighting beside mongrels races, but better to fight beside the Slav and Magyar then to not fight at all, eh?"
The Austrian nodded, realizing the truth of the words.
"Use that," Schulz gestured towards the banknote, "to eat a hot meal, stay in a comfortable hotel tonight, and take a first-class ticket to Vienna."
A tear formed in the Austrian's eye that he was quick to blink away. "Thank you so much, this… this has saved me."
Schulz nodded, understanding. As the German turned away, bidding farewell with a wave, he stopped mid-turn.
"I apologize, mein freund. I never asked your name."
"Ah, the fault is mine, I forgot to give it. My mind is a whirlwind of emotion."
Schulz laughed. "I'm sure it is. So what is your name?"
The destitute, dejected, recently elevated from impoverished by the fifty mark banknote painter from Austria scratched his cheek and locked his blue eyes with Schulz's hazel.
"My name is Adolf Hitler, pleased to make your acquaintance."
Munich, Bavaria
German Empire
"Your request is denied."
He stood there, dumbstruck, as the seated lieutenant looked up from his official papers and shrugged.
"Denied?" he muttered angrily, tiredly. "How, why?"
The Bavarian Army leutnant leaned forward, fingers crossed with a disappointed look on his face.
"Mein herr, you were denied enlistment into the Bavarian Army for two reasons. One is your health. You are as thin and pale as a ghost, good sir, and I doubt you could carry an infantryman's kit into the field without collapsing either from the weight or heart attack. On health grounds alone you would be disqualified from service."
The Bavarian enlistment officer snorted, either clearing his nose or in contempt.
"The second reason is that you are Austrian, sir. The Austro-Hungarian Empire is an ally of Germany and therefore you, a citizen of said nation, cannot join the armed forces of the German Empire."
"I will not join an army of mongrel races. I want to join the brave men of Germany!" An idea struck him, "I will write a petition! I will… I will go to another recruitment center in Germany. Bavaria may have denied me, but the Fatherland is hungry for soldiers! Surely one will allow me to enlist. Surely one will take me in." Desperation seized him as he stood before the seated officer. A manic look befell the sickly man from Austria, causing his dark blue eyes to dart about the room, as if searching for an answer that refused to reveal itself.
The Bavarian officer leaned back into his chair, a scowl upon his face. Behind the sickly disheveled man stood dozens of other men, far more healthy in appearance and more controlled in manner, awaiting to enlist and fight for King and Kaiser. They shuffled impatiently and many stared daggers at the dark haired Austrian who was delaying their patriotic duty.
"Sir, you attempted to enlist in the Bavarian Army six months ago. You were denied then, just as you are denied now. Nothing has changed."
The dejected man slammed his hands down on the wooden table separating the two men. "Everything has changed! The world is at war! Soon enough the armies of empires will march across Europe, Africa and Asia. Nations will fall whilst others rise, and glory and honor will be for those who dared to fight in this war, it being the greatest endeavor Mankind has ever faced. We are brothers, you and I. German, Austrian, two sides of the same coin. Our language is the same, our love for Germany is the same. Don't let pedantics of birth and nationality dilute the German blood that flows through my veins. I may be an Austrian by birth but I am a German by blood. I deserve a chance to fight for the Vaterland and for its people. It is my right. "
The officer raised an eyebrow, minutely impressed with the passionate fervor of the man before him… but orders were orders, the rules and regulations in place must be followed. Not even an impassioned Austrian could bend the rules.
"I'm sorry, but the answer is the same. You are denied entry into the Bavarian Army and will continue to be denied based on your poor health and foreign citizenship. Neither the Bavarian Army nor the German Army will accept you into its ranks. I, as military representative of His Majesty Ludwig III of the Kingdom of Bavaria and Kaiser Wilhelm II of the German Empire, bid you farewell."
The Austrian slumped, his soul sapped of its energetic will. He turned and walked out of the recruitment office, eyes downcast at the concrete floor, unable to even look at those men who would go on to fight for Germany.
Germany, the Fatherland he never had. A nation of Germans for Germans, a place he could call home and a country he had come to love in his months of living in Munich. He had hoped that with the outbreak of war the requirements for enlistment would have lowered. But he was wrong, and now he was defeated. What was he to do? He had only a couple of Goldmarks in his pocket, the remnants of his family inheritance, his clothes were worn thin, rough, and patchwork. He had not showered in days and his stomach rumbled from hunger, a minor pain wracking his abdomen.
Grimacing, he turned to walk… somewhere. He didn't know where to go anymore.
"Hey, you!" called a voice from behind, coming from the recruitment center. The Austrian turned, excited, thinking that at last the officer had come to his senses. But instead of the portly mustachioed officer, a man about his age with dark hair and eyes approached him, a friendly smile on his face.
He noticed the gentleman's expensive clothes and top hat, and the way he walked, assured as if nothing would ever deny him or be out of reach. The Austrian could almost smell the wealth coming off of the man. While he detested the wealthy elite, many of whom were Jews, he nonetheless smiled and tried to present a friendly face. It was after all what he did to help sell his art down in the Kunstareal.
"Hello," said the rich man as he neared, holding out his hand. "I must say I loved your speech back there. Really fired up the flames of patriotism in myself! Well done, well done indeed!"
"Oh, umm, thank you. Much obliged, herr-"
"Walter Schulz at your service!" The man took off his hat and gave a small bow while smiling.
Good God, he is like the theatre in the flesh, he thought sardonically.
"Herr Schulz. Thank you for your kind words. They have lifted my spirits somewhat."
"It's a damn shame you weren't admitted. We could use you in the Army. Like you said, you might be an Austrian by birth but you're a German by blood. And it'll be that same noble blood that sees our two countries emerge victorious in the months ahead."
"Thank you, that means a great deal to me," he said, truly touched by the man's comments. A brief silence existed between them, the nearly-penniless Austrian not knowing what to say and the rich German having spoken his piece.
"Well I'm sure you're busy, Herr Schulz, and I must be off as well. I have… other matters to attend to."
Schulz's eyes flicked over his appearance and a look of pity flashed over the well-to-do German's face.
"I see, yes, of course, I'm sure you are quite busy." Schulz went for another handshake but with the opposite hand, it having emerged from his pocket. The Austrian shook it awkwardly, eager to end this odd meeting, and felt something in the man's palm slip into his. He looked at it and saw a fifty Goldmark banknote. His eyes widened and he stared up at the taller man.
"I-" his tongue felt stiff and dry so he swallowed. "I don't know what to say other than thank you." The relief and honesty in those words poured forth with conviction.
"That's more than enough for me. While you may not be able to fight for Germany directly, perhaps you could do so in another way by joining your nation's army. Our countries share the same enemies after all. You would still be fighting for Germany, if indirectly. I overheard your comment about fighting beside mongrels races, but better to fight beside the Slav and Magyar then to not fight at all, eh?"
The Austrian nodded, realizing the truth of the words.
"Use that," Schulz gestured towards the banknote, "to eat a hot meal, stay in a comfortable hotel tonight, and take a first-class ticket to Vienna."
A tear formed in the Austrian's eye that he was quick to blink away. "Thank you so much, this… this has saved me."
Schulz nodded, understanding. As the German turned away, bidding farewell with a wave, he stopped mid-turn.
"I apologize, mein freund. I never asked your name."
"Ah, the fault is mine, I forgot to give it. My mind is a whirlwind of emotion."
Schulz laughed. "I'm sure it is. So what is your name?"
The destitute, dejected, recently elevated from impoverished by the fifty mark banknote painter from Austria scratched his cheek and locked his blue eyes with Schulz's hazel.
"My name is Adolf Hitler, pleased to make your acquaintance."