The rainbow never sets

"What sort of questions are they asking?" "Who asks the nastiest questions?"

It didn't help our concentration, but everyone was so nervous, that it provided an outlet for us.

Then my name was called. I entered the room and stood before four stern looking men. One was said to be from the communist party, to check whether we were all ideologically sound. I was pleased that my subject was going to be Maths and not history or German literature. Mr. Wesche stepped forward and started questioning me. After several correct answers, he gave me a formula to work out on the blackboard. I was in my element, I knew it all and finally wrote the answer: -1.

"That's it," I said proudly. "And what is the square root of --1?" came the perplexing question from one of the other examiners.

That felt like a hit below the belt. I stumbled and stuttered: "Square root of --1 is É square root of --1," I fumbled under my breath, sensing that there was something I should know, but at that moment for the life of me, I couldn't think what it was. He gave me plenty of time to think, but there was still no inspiration. My mind was a blank. I gave up.

"It is: 'i'," said Mr. Wesche with a sad expression on his face. Had I been able to answer that, he would have given me a 1 (very good) for my oral and a 2 (good) in my final mark, but for this little letter 'i', almost just the dot of the i, I missed out on what I had tried so hard to achieve. I was very disappointed.

The next day, on 17 July 1947, was the presentation of our leaving certificates, a brief ceremony with a few speeches, and then it was goodbye to school. I opened my leaving certificate and found that I had a pass mark in all subjects, except in Art and Music, where I had a credit. On the back page was written: "He passed the leaving certificate." Remark: "Tieman wants to become a farmer."

On our application form we had to nominate what we wanted to do after leaving school. By then I had made up my mind that I was not going to stay in the eastern zone under the Russian system. I had experienced some of it and I didn't want any more of it. It meant that I would have to look for a university in west Germany which taught Agricultural Science. As Onkel Werner and Tante Margaret lived near Göttingen, I chose the University there. Onkel Werner had subsequently made some enquiries for me and he was told that I needed two years of practical experience with a registered farmer before I could start academic studies. He booked me in with a farmer nearby.

The prospect of working on a farm for two years looked rather attractive to me. For the time being I needed a rest from mental work. My body also needed building up, as I had lost a lot of weight due to my illness and poor food. Good food and physical work on a farm would restore my body to its former constitution and add some more strength. After all, I was only

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