Around Veterans Day, I always recall some of the stories of one of my college professors, Hans Mair. Dr. Mair taught a course titled simply "World War II," in the political-science department at Loyola College in Maryland. While not an American veteran, his lessons reveal a lot about Americans during and after the war and resonate through the Novembers.
A WARTIME CHILDHOOD
Hans was a boy when the Nazis came to Linz, Austria. Not much changed in his life except for the propaganda films that invaded his Saturday-afternoon matinees.
After a couple years, however, things began to change. There were fewer men in the city. Shops closed, and those that stayed open had less and less to sell.
While the newspapers and radio broadcasts still proclaimed mighty German victories, rumors were spreading that things weren't going so well for the Reich.
Soon Linz, an industrial city, began to be bombed. Eventually, the German soldiers came for Hans and his father. They were drafted into the army with the other old men and older boys and were ordered to defend the city to the death. They were given swastika armbands and holsters and told they would be getting guns soon. The guns never came, so each morning Mrs. Mair packed the holsters with sandwiches, and Hans and his father would leave to patrol the city.
One night, Hans was awakened by the rumble of trucks. The Germans were leaving and in a hurry. The next morning, Hans and his father went to the city center. People were shouting that soldiers were swarming through the streets. Then American soldiers came running into the square with their rifles drawn. An American shouted in German for the gathered men to put their hands up; they complied.
As the soldier continued to shout, another soldier approached Hans, reaching inside his coat. Hans knew from the propaganda films that the American was going to pull out a gun and shoot him dead. Instead, the American soldier handed him a pack of bubble gum. "Go home, kid," the soldier said. "The war's over."
MAKING AMERICAN FRIENDS
Hans couldn't get enough of the Americans. They taught him the best English cuss words and how to play baseball. He loved their music.
He wanted to see America, so in 1954, he went to Carleton College in Minnesota to study political science. When he arrived for the first time at the Minneapolis-St. Paul airport, Hans was shocked to find the college was several miles away and there were no direct trains. Forced to hitchhike, Hans was lucky to be picked up by a friendly truck driver.
Hans was self-conscious of his thick German accent and didn't know how Americans would react to having a former enemy among them, so he didn't say much to the truck driver. But the Teamster soon realized Hans wasn't from around there, and they got to talking.
Soon, Hans discovered the truck driver was very familiar with Linz, Austria: He had bombed it repeatedly! During the war he had been a bomber crewman, so he spent the remainder of the drive describing in exquisite detail the bombing runs over the mountains and along the blue Danube straight into Linz.
A NEW LIFE
In 1957, Hans moved to Baltimore and started teaching at Loyola. The only ill will he ever felt as a German in America was when the cashier in the Loyola cafeteria called him a Hun every day. Hun, of course, was an old derogatory term for Germans dating back to the First World War.
After quietly enduring weeks of this daily insult, Hans learned from a colleague that the cashier called everybody a Hun. In Baltimore, "Hon" was short for "Honey."
In 1968, Hans received his doctorate degree in political science up the road from Loyola, at John Hopkins University.
He married and had four sons. He sang and danced in every musical Loyola put on for more than 40 years.
PASSING ON A LEGACY
The other day I did an Internet search of Professor Mair and was saddened to discover he passed away on Sept. 4. He lived the final 50 years of his life in America.
I guess those Americans soldiers Professor Mair met in 1945 had quite an impact. I wonder about the impact American soldiers are having right now in Iraq and Afghanistan and other parts of the world. Will it be the same? Will any of our future former enemies be inspired to come to America and spend the rest of their lives teaching us about ourselves?
As we quickly head into one more season of giving thanks, one more season of wishing peace on earth, goodwill toward everyone, I wish to thank Professor Mair for sharing his knowledge with me.
I wish to thank all military veterans - old and young - for their brave service. I wish to thank all active military personnel for their current sacrifices. And, above all, I wish for the day when there won't be any more new veterans, the day when we finally won't need any more soldiers.[[In-content Ad]]
