The Secret Journals Of Adolf Hitler: The Anointed (Historical Fiction Volume I) by A. G. Mogan

Author:A. G. Mogan [Mogan, A. G.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: The Question Mark Publishing
Published: 2017-09-09T00:00:00+00:00

I should skim through the next four years spent in Vienna quickly, as it is the saddest period of my life. Though as sad as it will prove, it will also teach me a great deal. The Hapsburg Monarchy offered me the education I so despised and avoided in primary school, and the same benefactor allowed me my most important education, the one of the five years of keen scrutiny of Vienna. In a sense, I am thankful for this period of my life, because it hardened me and enabled me to become as tough as a nut. It also saved me from the emptiness of a sterile life of ease and helped me thus to come to know the people for whom I was afterwards to fight.

But more than that, it is during these years that a certain view of life and a definite outlook on the world takes shape in my mind. These become the granite basis of my conduct and I will extend this foundation only very little, changing altogether nothing in it. For it is in youth that men lay the essential groundwork of their creative thought, wherever that creative thought exists. This young age is the one that furnishes the building materials, and plans for the future.

Now, for the first time in my life, I begin to learn to know men, to distinguish between false appearances or empty manners and the true, inner nature of men who seem rough and resilient. I understand the reasons underlying the psychological transformation of these essentially good men. The Hapsburg Monarchy and this Babel Tower in the streets are to carry the blame. Dazzling riches and loathsome destitution are intermingled in violent contrast. The splendor of the Court acts like a magnet on the wealth and intelligence of the whole Empire. This attraction is further strengthened by the dynastic policy of the Habsburg Monarchy, in centralizing everything in itself and for itself.

Besides the horde of high-ranking military officers, Government officials, artists and scientists, there is a still vaster one, markedly different, less splendid and dazzling: the horde of breadwinners. Thousands of unemployed loiter in front of the palaces on the Ring Boulevard, and below that Via Triumphalis of the old Austria, the homeless huddle together in the murk and filth of the canals. I, myself, am destined to share this latter category in the next four years of my life.

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