Karl von Moltke: A Family Tradition [1/2]

[alecbama 40]

Karl von Moltke was born to a lower class family in the northeastern German town of Parchim. An unassuming figure at a relatively standard 5'11" 200 pounds, you wouldn't guess that he was pursuing a career in professional hockey, nor that he was the latest in a long, proud line of famous German military members. Karl's great great great grandfather was Helmuth von Moltke the elder, often referred to as Moltke the Elder, who was perhaps the most important figure in Germany's history. Helmuth led the Prussians in the Austro-Prussian war and the Franco-Prussian war, which resulted in the establishment of the German empire. Helmuth von Moltke the Younger was far less successful in his efforts continue the proud von Moltke name. He was responsible for the disastrous Battle of the Marne in World War 1 that weakened the German's' Schlieffen Plan and perhaps ultimately led to their defeat. Many believed the von Moltke line to have been extinguished with the passing of the unmarried von Moltke the younger in 1916, but he had a mistress, one that would ultimately give birth to a son, and subsequently led to Karl down the line. Despite Germany having only been around since the late 19th century, the country has undergone some high peaks and low valleys. Karl is lucky to have been born into one of the most prosperous and stable times in their short history, however, with a strong economy led by an effective ordoliberal government and constituency. Despite the good fortune of the German people at large, the von Moltke's have been considerably less fortunate since the time of Helmuth the Younger. A once proud name has rusted through years of poverty and social inactivity, with criminals and drug dealers replacing military heroes in the family lineage as the 20th century progressed. Iron Crosses on the mantle turned to crack pipes. Family heirlooms were pawned for quick cash. The history behind the name was all but forgotten. 

 

Karl grew up just like most kids, albeit a little poorer. He followed a route well-traveled by the poor man as well; he didn't pay too much attention to academics and excelled in most every sport he tried. He attended elementary schools on the rougher side of town, often playing football with his peers using an underinflated, beat up ball and concrete walls as nets. He didn't get the chance to make too many friends because his family was always on the move, hopping from one eviction to another. His escape was athletics, and when a private secondary school came knocking with a partial athletic scholarship he went against his family's wishes and accepted. To do so he had to commute 40 minutes each way, every day to the nicer side of town via bus, which was by no means cheap. He got a job at 12 years old assisting the janitors at his new fancy school. The other kids made fun of him, often taunting him. Their favorite was a line about not recognizing him without a mop and bucket. Being like most 12 year olds, this really affected Karl. He grew depressed, and the commute just didn't seem worth it anymore. He was tired of being made fun of, of being an outsider. His performance for the school's football team suffered, and he was benched in favor of one of his tormentors, which just brought on worse jeers and sapped him of what little self-confidence he may have had left. With nowhere left to turn, he headed home for the last time. He was done, and would not be going back to that wretched school. He'd play for the local public school and get a manufacturing job after high school. It was at least better than being the latest in a line of crackheads. 

 

Karl, all of 12 years old, trudged through the creaky front door of his ramshackle home, glanced to the right and fixated on his older brother and mother, high on something and bickering angrily over a card game. He sighed, slung his backpack on the floor and wearily made his way to his room. He flung himself on the bed and stared at the ceiling. A ceiling which he never noticed had a very odd bump in it. After a quick search for a stool, Karl climbed up and realized it was a chain, crudely painted over in an faded and peeling hue of blue. He chipped away at some of the residual paint and gave a tug to the newly exposed chain. It gave way with a creaky groan and revealed an attic. A passageway to a new life. He scrambled through the small opening and immediately stumbled over a box of old medals and books. He learned that day what his past was, what it really was. He learned that the name von Moltke was one to be proud of, that he was descended from great men, and wasn't bound to be a crackhead dropout like his family.

 

Come Monday, he strode through the doors of his prep school with a newfound swagger, one immune to the petty taunting and cheap words thrown by ignorant boys. Karl von Moltke the janitor boy was gone, and Karl von Moltke the heir to greatness was born. News that he'd been dropped from the football team didn't even phase the new Karl, and he embraced the hockey coach's offer for a tryout with an enthusiasm of years missed. He threw himself into the art of the game, working on his strength and body while learning the basics at practice on the side while his teammates laughed at his folly of trying to catch up. The new von Moltke was not to be fazed though, and soon enough he was skating adequately enough and positioning himself better than his fellow linemates. His feel for the game was enhanced by his years of playing football, and many parallels helped him learn the game's intricacies and hone his skills to be a great player. By the time he graduated high school he was the best player in the region despite still not being a great skater. His strength, stick skills, passing, and defensive prowess were enough to cement him as a great talent. He's still learning to skate better and work on his technical abilities, and that pride is still alive and well within him. Watch out for when, not if, he catches up with his peers in the parts of the game they've had the privilege of working on since early childhood, because von Moltke is bringing back the family name and doing so with a vengeance.

 

 

1107 words.

[Banackock 7,630]

Awesome  @alecbama

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Review: I could have done with some images and/or headers to break up the text a bit, as it stands it looks like a bit of a foreboding wall of text. I really do like the story itself though, it feels a lot like a fairy tale what with the secret attic and all, but I like the background provided (the wars and such) and the additional small details on some of the other characters.