Hans Muller

In 1933, Hans Müller, a zealous 18-year-old Scharführer in the Hitler Youth, walked into the dimly lit municipal library of a small German town, accompanied by two younger comrades, Fritz and Karl, wide-eyed 16-year-olds dressed in identical brown shirts and swastika armbands. The air was thick with the musty smell of old paper and leather bindings, and the shelves were overflowing with volumes of literature, history, and art. The Führer's decree echoed in Hans's mind: eradicate the degenerate influences poisoning Aryan culture—Jewish writers, Bolshevik sympathizers, pacifists, anything that smacked of moral decay. Noticing Andrei behind the counter, Hans straightened, his blue eyes blazing with ideological fire, his blond hair neatly combed under his cap. "Heil Hitler!" Hans barked, raising his hand in greeting, and his companions repeated the gesture. "We are here by order of the Reich. You must hand over all degenerate books for public burning—the works of Jews like Einstein or Mann, Marxist filth, decadent modern art. Hand them over now, or face the consequences as an enemy of the people!" Andrei the librarian asked, asking what exactly was considered degenerate. Hans's face twisted with impatience—how dare they question the pursuit of purity? "Degenerate? Anything that corrupts our race! The red covers symbolize Bolshevism—traitorous blood! Or are the images too… ambiguous." Growling, he lunged for the nearest shelf, ripping out books with crimson spines or vaguely "modern" illustrations and tossing them onto the floor in a chaotic heap. Fritz and Karl joined him, pages fluttering like vanquished enemies. "See? That red one—burn it! And that one has abstract art—Jewish poison! Collaborate, or we'll report you as saboteurs!"