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Georg E Mateos

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Walther's father
By Georg E Mateos
Friday, September 11, 2009

Rated "G" by the Author.

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Excerpt from the book under work:
The Life of Walther Alexander
(or How to build a cold-blooded bastard)

Walther’s father, Erich, was a few Junkers generations descendant that found himself in the middle of the 1930’s despising not the Nazis because their ideas, they wanted to wash that 1919 Versailles Treaty, but because they were lead by a military analphabetic little corporal from Austria from a beer hall, not less.
His brother Albert, an old Colonel that was passed over and over for promotion again and again because of his non-existing military ambitions, was entertaining the idea of joining Herr Heinrich Himmler which served in his 11th Bavarian Regiment in the last Great War and now was top dog in the Schtzstaffel, better known as the SS, they had smart uniforms and extracted respect from everybody, not like the snickering he knew everybody threw at his back from other officers and their unspeakable wives that could do a tour or two in Berlin’s Spandau, that happened to have a Schneidemaschine and knew how to use it.
Walther’s father, for all his faults, wouldn’t have any of it, as the highest ranked officer in the family, having served side by side with von Hindenburg; he wasn’t going to let anyone to join that mob.

Walther’s father Erich, married a twenty years younger girl that gave him three sons and a daughter, because “the family name must be perpetuated” but just for the family name, not affect, kindness, tenderness or, God help us! Love!
The children were to be seen, but hardly often, and for God’s sake never heard if doesn’t particularly and specifically asked for.
His wife, from a shy newly married girl eating a box of chocolates as her first act of liberation from her family, which had tell up to then how and when to breath, found herself with nannies and house help too old to be chastised even from the “lady of the house” so, her frustrations were vented upon the children, which brought Erich on a rage, not for the sake of the children, but because she had done it, to the children, in front or at ear’s range of the house’s help.
Decorum and discretion, if you need to beat anyone, do it where nobody is around or can hear it.
Walther’s father’s rows with his increasingly defying wife, developed from small and civilized disagreement discussed in lower voices into full-scale feminine provocations with vociferous roars from the man, furniture being rattled, name callings, profanities and doors end-of-the-world slamming.
The children, every time that happened, and it was often, knew that one of them for sure, but could be also two, could expect the Revenge of the Mother.
Then there was Abraham, a traveling textiles merchant that had visited the family for generations. Today’s Abraham being the seventh generation or so climbing the marble stairs going to the front door.
All the bed linen, tables linen, damask, embroideries from Madeira or Malta, China silk and everything sewn in the house had passed between the hands of Abraham (his real name was Ashkenazi which, time afterward, would seemed grotesque if one think of ashes and nazis)
This particularly Abraham was already serving the household when Walther’s father was born. Now old and frail was hoping that older son would take over because “my feet will killing me before my lumbago”

Abraham came one day sporting a yellow six points star on his jacked.
He also was sporting a shine around his left eye and tape was holding the two halves of his glasses together.
The maid Rachel went, instead to alarm Madame, imagine that! directly to the General with the news.
Walther’s father wouldn’t have it that anyone will interfere with his household, and Abraham was part of it as long as he could remember.
Of being Jew never being an issue, not like if he was a Negro or Arab or some other disgusting gleichsam Mensch.
Abraham belonged to the household, like a door-knocker.

Stepping over the toes of a Junker General, no matter how many beer halls you been the top dog of, wasn’t to be accepted and the General made a stink of it, perhaps frustrated by that tug Röhm and its brown shirt “soldiers” and the black shirts ones parading like they were real soldiers, that they weren’t!!!
The General sons never had seen their father so engaged in other human being and they wondered if they sported a six-pointed yellow star, their father would give a second glance to them.

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Reviewed by Peter Schlosser 10/9/2009
A most interesting historical perspective of a very confusing moment of history. You express quite accurately the animosity felt by the traditional Prussian/ Wehrmacht officer vs. Heinrich Himmler's SS. The allure of the SS for many young people was that it thwarted the old Prussian Officer's Corps elitist attitude regarding the make-up of its ranks. They generally preferred educated, well-to-do officers with a good family name to come and apply. The SS, in turn, promised to do away with the old caste system and based their merits on those with the right racial characteristics and the right minds to be conformed to National Socialist ideaology. In other words, become a fanatic and you can forget about class issues. That was their esprit de corps, so to speak. Also, you explain the confused mind-set regarding the Jews in Germany at the time. A lot of Germans felt that the anti-semitism was going a bit far; but never thought it would advance to the point it did and accepted it on some level because they took the "good with the bad." Maybe they didn't like Hitler and the racial rhetoric; but economically their lives improved and Germany was becoming a player again on the world stage re-righting the wrongs inflicted by the Treaty of Versailles. All in all a good write. By the way, I see someone below has been asking you to write something about Dresden. I was just there in July and actually did write a quick little poem about Dresden, named "Dresden" funny enough. Took the picture myself. Also recently wrote a poem about Stalingrad called "Stalingrad." Yes, the creativity in naming those is magnificent, no?
Reviewed by JMS Bell 10/6/2009
Reviewed by John Austin 9/19/2009
Well written. I love this
Reviewed by Dixie Dawn Michelle 9/12/2009

“Excerpt from the book under work:
The Life of Walther Alexander
(or How to build a cold-blooded bastard)”

did make me choreograph a dance that I would title, “The Rise of the Military Satanic INQUISITION”, just thinking on how high a powerful flying quill like yours can soar over the skies of indifference and ignorant leaders of this planet.

I am certain that you will complete this book to its best level, and that “The Life of Walther Alexander” will be published soon to be a top historic book of our century.

The last line of the first paragraph of "Walther's father" “... by a military analphabetic little corporal from Austria from a beer hall, not less.” echoes on my ear as a satire to the many thousand of highly Academic trained military officers and scientists that are led by violators of the Human Rights today.

Last word of second paragraph., "Schtzstaffel," I read as SCHUTZSTAFFEL.

The eleventh paragraph:

“Of being Jew never being an issue, not like if he was a Negro or Arab or some other disgusting gleichsam Mensch.” – This sound like a satirical observation, “... gleichsam Mensch.” ... like human being. And it is a strong one.

Thank you for sharing this introduction to your new book, “The Life of Walther Alexander”.

In appreciation,

Dixie Dawn Michelle
Reviewed by JASMIN HORST SEILER 9/12/2009
Georg I gets the feeling you are standing on a stage overseeing a scripted play, a play you are deeply and intrinsically related to somehow, yet viewed and directed from a culture foreign to the one you write about. All of them have their light and dark side, and some times the waves of light and dark come in beats directed by forces overwhelming. How these induviduals become who they are, you have to go much further back to be fair, to the preceding ones.
I can relate to much of the cultural aspects, not just Walther or Erich, or Juergen even, for I lived it in some respects. The Junkers, Walhalla, or all the history induvidual, or total is the people and their lives, including the Nazis, not isolate from behaviour en total. Misguided idealism no matter where, bents families their descendants and makes history, I don't know whereto this is leading, from Abraham, to Erich, or Walther, if we ar looking at the act of bombing Dresden, I would think, you will not find enough Nazis, their forefathers and descendants, to make light of hell provided with the compliments of the angels of the lords vengeance, and the epaulets they wear on their hereos bomber jackets, sorry, I will read on.... Of course this is not saying it is not well written, it is as always, but when I asked you write about he bombing of Dresden before you and I kick the bucket, a personal romance novel, if it is with the dodo bird the nazies or whomever is not important, as I see it, still I love you as always, but cut to the chase will ya, I am getting older and so are you.
Hugs! Juergen
Reviewed by Mark Lichterman 9/12/2009
Georg. I am writing this not because you asked me to, although I should have when I first read it when "Walther's Father" first appeared, but more so because, after reading it at least three times I can now come up with an opinion.
I feel this should be the outline of a much larger story that expands the characters to more than a sentence or two.
You've introduced us to Walther, a non-feeling, non-loving man that cares more of what is seen by others than what is felt within his heart and home.
You've introduced us to his wife, also seeming to be a non-feeling, selfish woman.
You barely touch upon the children and now bring into the story what seems to be the only warm person, the truly likable Abraham.
You have a very interesting period of time here, pre-Nazi Germany and characters, most of whom readers may learn to love to hate, which is always interesting and fun to read.
I think you have the makings of a novel. But as a short story, the reason that I have not commented up to now is because it did and does confuse me.
You have great knowledge of the period in time and the makings of very interesting characters for a novel but I think care should be given not in the words you use, but in the way the words are presented because very often your sentence structure tends to confuse.
All in all, for me, this seems more as an outline than a story and I think you should take the time to expand it to a novel.
Your friend, Mark
Reviewed by Carole Mathys 9/11/2009
Splendid story, write so well, looking forward to more.

Reviewed by Mr. Ed 9/11/2009
History has always fascinated me, as does your historical story, my friend.
Reviewed by Karen Lynn Vidra, The Texas Tornado 9/11/2009
Excellent story, Georg; powerfully penned! Very well written; bravo!

Semper fi!

(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in America, Karen Lynn in Texas. :(

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