Birthday

They roused him with muffins--they roused him with ice-- They roused him with mustard and cress-- They roused him with jam and judicious advice-- They set him conundrums to guess. Lewis Carroll,

"The Hunting of the

Snark." Forty-four years old was Handsome Adolf Hitler last week and Germany went wild. Not even the Kaiser or Old Paul von Hindenburg ever had such a birthday. Despite his expressed desire to spend the day quietly in his little Alpine cottage near Berchtesgaden he could not avoid the attentions of his delirious followers. They roused him with flowers, they roused him with telegrams, bottles of wine, boxes of cigars (Chancellor Hitler does not smoke, drinks nothing stronger than beer), Easter eggs, Westphalian hams, lumps of sugar for his police dogs. Back in the Chancellery in Berlin the presents came in by the carload. Sofa cushions were the most popular, there were over 1,000 of them; also clocks, books, pictures, rugs, clothes, a birthday cake weighing 170 lb., dogs, canaries, parrots, and a saddle horse (Chancellor Hitler does not ride). Most appealing was a box of pretzel mice from the children of Hameln, labeled YOU ARE NOW OUR PIED PIPER. In the city twelve Nazi standard bearers tramped with flags flying to the high altar of Berlin's Protestant Cathedral while the choir sang, "Thus Far God Has Guided Us." Nazi peddlers did a land-office business selling wooly imitation edelweiss, Hitler's favorite posy, for ten pfennigs each, the proceeds to go to charity so that, in the Chancellor's own words, "No one should go hungry on this day." Restaurants, beer gardens and Nazi headquarters who had promised to distribute free food ran out of supplies early, but it was a wonderful feast while it lasted. Soldiers, police, storm troopers and Stahlhelm members paraded all day long. Proudly officials at the Chancellery displayed a birthday message from the Reichspraesident, signed "In loyal comradeship, believe me, your devoted VON HINDENBURG."

Bestimmungsmensuren. Meanwhile Heidelberg celebrated Handsome Adolf's birthday in strange fashion. In the Hirsch-Gasse (Stag Alley) is an ancient beer hall and on an upper floor is a long timbered room known to tourists as the oldest fencing hall in Germany. Here for over 100 years members of the student fighting corps have staged their slashing bouts. The Republic's law against student dueling was lifted in Prussia, Bavaria and Baden three weeks ago (TIME, April 17). Heidelberg boys celebrated Adolf Hitler's birthday last week by holding the first public, open, officially recognized student duel in the University's 547 years.

There were two bouts: Teutonia v. Zaringia; Shibellinia v. Rheno-Palatia. Members of the four fighting corps sat in separate groups, embroidered caps on their heads, colored ribbons across their chests, very solemn, very earnestly drinking beer. Official guests, something new for a student duel, were the Rector of the University, Dr. Willy Andreas, a group of professors, the chief of police of Heidelberg and the State's Attorney for Baden. The spectators' gallery was jammed with alumni, Nazis in uniform, even a few women.

Duel is not quite the word for a Bestimmungsmensur. No personal grudge is involved, the entire affair is an elaborate test of the ability to stand pain. Each member of a fighting corps must take part in from six to nine bouts before he has the right to wear the narrow tri-colored ribbon of his corps across his vest. Officers of the challenging corps pick the duelists at random.

The contestants on the Hirsch-Gasse fencing floor last week were young boys with heads shaved, rather green in the face, damp with perspiration. To save their eyes they wore narrow wire goggles. A thick padded collar protected the jugular vein, and a padded sleeve protected the right arm from wrist to shoulder. On either side crouched seconds with fencing masks, padded arms and rapiers. By a white table against the wall stood a rubber-gloved doctor, wiping the broad razor-like blades of the basket-hilted rapiers with disinfectant, laying out bandages, needles, tourniquet, sterile catgut. There is little real fencing in a Bestimmungsmensur. Opponents must not flinch or change position. The stroke is a quick snap of the wrist. From time to time the seconds raise their rapiers and call "Halt!" that the doctor may dab the principals' streaming bloody faces, test their hearts. Finally comes the sewing up of gaping cuts (hardest time to avoid flinching) and the flashlight photographs to send to proud parents at home.

Last week's bouts were followed by a Festkommers, or beer party, with speeches, songs, loud cries of "Silentium!" and the banging of rapiers to call members to order. All the students signed a telegram with pledges of allegiance and happy birthday wishes for Adolf Hitler.

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