Adolf Hitler's Pencil Box Part 1

Adolf Hitler's Pencil Box 

History. It’s made every day. It's good. It's bad. More often than not it, it's an odd mixture of the two.

We base our lives, laws, futures-everything on history, whether we realise it or not. 

A mate of mine was doing a project on World War II, so she asked me if I could help her,

as I’d achieved top marks on all my history exams. I agreed to help her on the condition that

she read the text and made an effort. She didn’t. Rather than yell at her or refuse to help her further,

 I decided to instill a lesson in her that would serve her for the rest of her life. 

And herein lies the tale of „Adolf Hitler’s Pencil Box.“ The topic of her research project was, 

„What sparked World War II?“ Never mind the fact she didn’t even think to comment about

Hitler’s rise to power- And I saw this topic as a prime opportunity for mischief and to spin a 

yarn that I would enjoy for years to come. 

Austria, our story starts. There’s a small boy sitting in front of a roaring fire. He’s about 

6 years old. A man, probably his father, enters the room, clutching a small parcel wrapped

in brown paper. He sits down next to the boy, who’s full attention is now on him. „Look

here, Adolf. Papa has something for you. It was hand-carved by my grandfather and passed

down from boy to boy in our family. You’re of age now, its time for you to hold the box and

keep it safe from prying hands and jealous hearts.“ He hands the parcel to little Adolf, who

with trembling fingers, carefully removes the brown paper. The faces of the carved angels 

are illuminated in the fire’s glow. The boy peers down at the eyes, full of wonder, gazing

up at him. He carefully ran his hands over the carved filigree, not wanting to miss any 

sensation the box had to offer him. His father watched in silence, taking in this proud moment

he’d been waiting for ever since his son was born. Adolf wraps his arms around his father

and thanks him for the gift, promising that he will keep it safe. 

We cut to three years later in a small, decrepit building. There are several children hunched

over slates coping things off a blackboard whilst a stern woman, rattled off dates and names.

Adolf, now 9, works hard on his lessons. He knows that his mother needs him and he will do

her proud to get the best education he can. His pencil box, given to him by his late father, 

sits in front of him as a reminder of what he’s lost and his responsibilities. He uses it as an 

incentive to not procrastinate. 

He turns for a moment to get something out of his drawstring bag and when his eyes return

to the space in front of him, he sees his beloved pencil box, who he’s dubbed Adolf Jr, is gone.

Panic floods him and he screams, startling his classmates and upsetting the teacher. „ITS GONE!“ 

He shrieks at the top of his lungs. „Mr Hitler, if you can’t control yourself you will get a whipping

and will stay after school hours to clean this room. You will not be allowed home until this room

sparkles with clean.“ „But ma’am- my pencil box, someone has stolen it.“ „You just had it this

morning. You must have misplaced it you silly boy. Now I want to hear no more on this.“ She turned 

her back to him and Adolf simmered with rage. 

He catches another student's eye. The boy offers a toothy grin and pulls the box out from under his

jumper. „Ma’am-!“ He didn’t even get to finish what he was going to say when the crop of his 

teacher came down on his hand. „I told you I didn’t want to hear another word on the subject

of your ridiculous pencil box!“ The classmate tucked the box under his jumper and kept his head down.

Adolf eyes the boy and swears his will get his case back and make that boy suffer. 

Adolf enters the school building following his time off to see his enemy’s seat empty. ‚Was he running

late?’ ‚Had he fallen ill?“ Adolf hoped that he had fallen ill-fitting for a lying thief he thought. He 

took his own seat and the teacher called for silence. „We are now one smaller in number. Our

classmate Hans has left the school in order to aid his father on the family farm. We will not be 

seeing him again.“ Adolf couldn’t believe his ears. If Hans was gone, that meant so was his pencil

box. He’d failed his father. Bitterness and resentment took seed in little Adolf that day and over the years grew into a simmering homicidal rage and need for revenge. 

*Do note, that this is all just a work of fiction. It's not meant to insult anyone or make light of the horrible acts committed under Hitler's reign. If you have nasty criticism for the subject matter of this, kindly, stick it up your arse and get over yourself.