Chapter 4

The morning lecture on Renaissance History was interesting enough but as Stuart sat behind the long wooden table scratching notes with his fountain pen he found it difficult to concentrate. Carol was, in any man’s language, absolutely stunning. Furthermore, although apparently linked romantically to Hamish, she must have known that her information about her office location would hardly have pleased the older man. So what was her motive? He shook his head, forcing himself to concentrate. He enjoyed Professor Sterling’s lectures. The man had a colourful style and in contrast to some of the old codgers who just read in a monotone from yellowed pages, Sterling often departed from his prepared lecture when he felt that further explanation would aid his students’ understanding of the subject.

Stuart looked up as the professor paused, gathered his notes into a neat bundle and folded his hands on top of them. His gaze took in the entire small group of third year students.

“Although having no bearing on the subject of your coming exams, I have something of great importance to say to you all. The current world situation does not provide much cause for optimism. Just as the Dark Ages preceded the Renaissance, when the Church attempted to totally control the lives of men, the same thing appears to be happening today in Germany. Any dictatorship is dangerous, but to me, as a scholar, the most disturbing aspect of Adolf Hitler’s Nazi government is the mass burning of books by German university students.”

His eyes panned the room of silent, attentive students.

“Books by great writers have been publicly incinerated throughout Germany. The Nazi government has not only ordered the public destruction of thousands of works of fiction that they have classified as subversive, but also scholarly books that may well be irreplaceable. Such an action is a modern day mirror of the actions of those who controlled Europe during the Dark Ages.”

There was no sound as Professor Sterling paused, cleared his throat and leaned forward.

“Be aware, ladies and gentlemen, that if this man and his madness are not stopped we may well see the beginning of another Dark Age spread across Europe and beyond. There’s not much that old chaps like me can do about it, other than to speak and publish papers. But you are the young men and women of a nation founded on democratic principles. I’m afraid my generation has let itself down. The future is now in your hands. Do whatever is necessary otherwise the price that we will all be forced to pay will be a terrible one!”

Gathering his notes Professor Sterling swept from the room leaving behind his stunned and silent students.

It was a pleasant crisp early spring day and during the lunch break with many other university students, Stuart sat in Albert Park munching on his mother’s sandwiches and discussing Sterling’s words with his close friend Brendan Ritter. Both young men had spent several years in the work force before enrolling at the university - having found the prospect of working their way up from lowly clerical positions in large corporations to be too bleak. (Due to his school success in mathematics Stuart had been urged by his father to take a clerical position in the Bank of New Zealand -“Good safe job, son”.) He and Brendan had met in their first year at a History tutorial.

Lying on his back, Brendan gestured upwards towards the eternally motionless statue of the soldier above them.

“He and his mates went off thirty-odd years ago to South Africa to fight the Boers. Didn’t do anyone any bloody good. Our chaps thought they were fighting a noble war for Queen and country but wound up fighting farmers like themselves. War solves nothing. Waste of bloody time. Look at the last show.” He accepted the cigarette that Stuart proffered.“Tell you what, mate; if they want me to enlist they’re wasting their bloody time!”

Stuart drew deeply on his cigarette.

“Dunno. Prof. Sterling’s got a point. This is mo