We are working on our Bakelite plugs. The Kalfaktor (local for trusty prisoner) peeks in and has something very special in his book trolley: “Die Stunde der toten Augen” (The Hour of the Dead Eyes) by Harry Thürk.

This book, which I devoured years ago alongside “Die Abenteuer des Werner Holt” (The Adventures of Werner Holt) by Dieter Noll, is awesome.

German paratroopers are fighting the Red Army in the hinterland. It's extremely exciting, without any agitation or propaganda.

It's literally the bloody opposite of “Der Sozialismus – Deine Welt" (The Socialism – Your World), which we were given as a gift for our youth initiation ceremony. Dogmatic hazardous waste that no one needs. Speaking of youth initiation ceremonies.

I received mine in 1980 in Halle-Neustadt. For many students, it was a windfall. For me, it was a miserable drinking spree. Grandma Frieda and Aunt Vera gave me 100 marks. I got nothing from my parents.

And I had wanted a radio so badly. It didn't have to be a “Sternrekorder” (East German recorder brand) or even a moped, like some of the others got. But a portable radio with FM, like “Dad” had – that would have been it.

Otherwise, my parents were at their best. There was plenty to eat and, above all, to drink, which I shamelessly took advantage of.

The drinking got out of control. My classmates had to drag me to Galgenberg in Halle in a wheelbarrow (!).

There, relatives of a class mate had a garden shed where the three of us could to sober up for three days and two nights. Whether and why my parents didn't miss me is a mystery to me.

The year of my youth initiation ceremony was the point when everything changed. Until then, I had been rather small and tame, but I shot up so much that I was constantly bumping my head.

My stepfather had recently started to ignore what I'm doing. As long as I helped him build his dacha near Naumburg, I had carte blanche.

Joachim Witt sums up how I felt back then in his song “Goldener Reiter” (Golden Rider):

“An der Umgehungsstraße (On the bypass) /

Kurz vor den Mauern unserer Stadt (Just outside the city walls) /

Steht eine Nervenklinik (There's a mental hospital) /

Wie sie noch keiner gesehen hat (Like no one has ever seen before) ...”.

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