In 1934 my parents considered that Erika and I had received sufficient individual tuition and were ready to hold our own in a regular school. Erika was sent as a boarder to Alexandra College in Dublin, while I attended the local Methodist School run by Miss Dixon, a tall, thin lady who was a good teacher and a very kind person. I immediately felt at home in the Methodist School; the friendly atmosphere was so different from the impersonal relationship I had had with my classmates in Brünn!
Erika had been an avid reader for years and I developed the same passion as soon as I could read effortlessly. The county library, situated in the magnificent Carlow Court House, attracted me like a magnet. There were two rooms with floor to ceiling bookshelves presenting me with a huge selection from which to make my choice. Although I often went back several times a week to get new books, the librarian, Miss Iona McLeod, was always friendly and glad to help me find what I wanted.
I have always felt that the people of Carlow belonged to a particularly happy community. The thriving nature of the town was reflected in its tidy streets; the small industries it boasted, as well as the sugar factory, were all doing well. It was a constant hive of social activities and the big attractions in summer were the many tennis parties that were held at different venues. These were always organised as competitions in which the winners were given small prizes. There was no shortage of facilities and I used to practise enthusiastically with my friends on the courts, which the sugar factory provided for the residents of the local staff houses.
After I had attended the Methodist School for a year, my parents felt that the environment of a school under the direction of a male teacher would be better for my development and that I should transfer to the National School. I was quite happy about this change especially since some of my friends were going to make the same move.
Because of my fluency in two languages, and my past tussle with Czech, it was no great problem for me to learn Irish. In fact, I used to get top marks in class and was usually only beaten into second place by the son of one of the Czech workers in the sugar factory. This goes to prove that learning Irish was even then a problem for nationals in the early days of the State’s existence.
My mother was the more strict of my parents, but they were both quite firm where a basic code of good behaviour was concerned. At the same time they placed great trust in me and I was allowed an inordinate amount of freedom. An example of this was that I could roam the fields for miles on my own or spend hours cycling. At ten years of age I was given a Diana air-gun and could sally forth armed with it and my catapult to engage in target practice wherever I wished, as long as I did not use them near people or houses. Taking pot shots at tin cans, or little targets that I set up as I went on my rambles, soon made me into a competent marksman, and handling my small weapons became second nature to me. The fact that I was always encouraged to acquire fresh dexterity and new skills was a demonstration by my parents of their trust in me. This must have instilled in me tremendous self-confidence which served me well in later years.
In 1936, Hitler began to feature more prominently in the news reports on radio and in the daily press. I remember my father sitting through Hitler’s long speeches on our Pye valve-radio set, and being impressed by his eloquence. Although I normally obeyed my father, I was not happy to join him in listening to these speeches. From the start, I had no time for Hitler’s ranting and considered him to be somewhat unbalanced. However, out of respect for my father, I sometimes compromised by sitting in the room with him, but I would read a book and, to humour him, occasionally listen for a few minutes to what Hitler was saying.
Erika’s move to her new school meant that we became separated for long periods at a time, but we always made up for it in the holidays. In summer we even went so far as to set our alarm clocks at an unearthly hour so that we could go for long cycle rides together, before returning home for breakfast to tell our parents about all that we had seen and done. Another pre-breakfast activity of ours was doing physical exercises in the back garden under the direction of my father. We both enjoyed this somewhat unusual pastime and, to this day, I can get great satisfaction from early morning exercises.
As time went by I got more and more busy. I began to take violin lessons from Mrs Born, the wife of the German organist in the Catholic cathedral. Then I joined the Lifeboys, the junior section of the Boys’ Brigade. Our weekly meetings took place in the gym room of the Town Hall and I used to cycle the mile and a half in and out, even on dark winter nights. Our uniform consisted of navy-blue shorts and pullover, and a flat, sailor-type cap with “Lifeboy” embossed in large letters on the front. It was all good fun and I enjoyed marching to music and playing games.
Early in 1937, my parents decided that I should go to a German school the following year for my second-level education. Since my Aunt Hella was now married and living in Karlsbad, the famous spa in the Sudetenland, it seemed an ideal solution to send me to the nearby town of Eger which had many excellent schools. I was to attend the Realgymnasium as a day boy and could live in a nearby home for students. The reason for not living with my relatives, who had no children, was that I would not become a burden to them. At the same time, they were near enough for me to visit them easily or be able to ask for advice about any problems that I might have.
Leaving school in Carlow meant that I would have to prepare intensively for a complete change of syllabus and in a different language. All studying was to be done at home and the teaching shared between my father and my mother. A syllabus was requested from the school in Eger; I was taken out of the National School and began to study, following a detailed curriculum that my parents had prepared for me.
My father taught me mathematics, German grammar and literature while my mother concentrated on geography, history and Czech. I had hoped to have seen the last of the Czech language, but here I was back again struggling with its difficult pronunciation and grammar. My parents must have gone to a lot of trouble taking on this onerous chore and I remember working very hard and spending long hours at my lessons. Life had certainly been a lot easier at the National School.
When 1938 arrived and I had successfully completed a year’s study, my parents felt that they did not want to be parted from me so soon. It was then decided that I should stay at home for another year and that I would prepare for the next higher class. As I concentrated on my studies over the next months, a number of political developments concerning Czechoslovakia took place. On 24 May, Konrad Henlein, the leader of the Sudeten-German Party, called for autonomy for all Sudeten-Germans. On 20 June, partial mobilisation was introduced in Czechoslovakia and on 30 September, the fateful Munich Agreement on the acquisition of the Sudetenland by Germany was signed by Hitler, Mussolini, Chamberlain and Daladier.
I had no inkling about how portentous these developments were, and I never got the impression that my parents were worried. My studies continued, there was no change of plan and I went on enjoying my idyllic existence in Carlow. One result of the Sudetenland being taken over by Germany was that it was no longer compulsory for me to learn Czech and, to my great relief; it was dropped from the syllabus.
My father had kept up his love for motoring during our years in Carlow and we covered a large mileage every year. Most of our holidays were spent on the east coast, usually at Arklow or Ballymoney Strand and I always had a wonderful time. We slept in a four-berth caravan and had a ridge tent with table and chairs that was used as a dining room. A second ridge tent accommodated our live-in help, provisions and kitchen equipment. Cooking was done outside on an army-type stove and my mother continued to treat us to elaborate meals served on spotless linen in our dining tent. I was never keen on swimming, but the lovely beaches and holiday friends kept me happily occupied all day long.