Hitler's Bunker

Not the culvert in question, but you get the idea.
https://www.quora.com/What-is-the-difference-between-culvert-and-tunnel-in-infrastructure-design

For the most part, my vacations in Germany were amazing. They were filled with fun, family, nice weather, culture, and delicious food. There was one night though, where I couldn't sleep. Absolute horror overtook me. I was afraid of one of history's real life monsters. I was afraid of Hitler.

My Oma and Opa took my sister, my brother, and me to eat at a restaurant out in the country. Following the meal, my sister and I went outside. There was a nice spacious field behind the building. Fifty yards or so away was a wooded area and what, looking back now, was probably just a culvert. I think I was probably 8 or 9 at the time. My sister would have been 12 or 13. She told me that that large concrete structure was actually Hitler's bunker. And I believed her. She also told me that his body was never found and he may still be alive roaming the German countryside. And I believed her. This gave me the chills. I returned inside to sit in the safety of my Opa's presence. It was getting dark outside and I didn't want to get caught by der Führer.

On our car ride home I recalled what Opa once said about the guy two houses down. That guy was always a grouch. He had a wonderful wife though. She'd make us pizza a couple times in the summer. She was very friendly, but her husband didn't share her demeanor. My Opa said of him, “He's no good. He is Hitler's man.” I didn't know if that meant he knew Hitler personally, or was an actual Nazi during the war, or was just a Nazi sympathizer who lived in the past. I was sure he hated me, the son of a daughter of Germany who betrayed her fatherland by marrying an American soldier. Surely he'd rat me out.

My grandmother lived her whole life with a shame she could not get rid of. Her given name was Adolfine. I never knew this until I was a teenager. She was just “Oma” to me. Everybody else simply referred to her as Finny. I heard that families often showed their allegiance to the Nazi party by naming their kids after Hitler. Whether they truly supported them or just wanted protection, I do not know. Maybe it's all nonsense somebody told me. But to have that badge your whole life must have been terrible. A man responsible for the deaths of millions honored in such a way. I can't imagine having to carry that burden.

So I lay in bed that evening. My sister by my side, we shared a queen bed. I stared at the shutters on the window to my right. My senses heightened by my paranoia. I'd hear Hitler come for me. I knew it. I didn't know that had he been alive still, he'd be 100 years old. I didn't realize that, had he been alive, he'd have more things on his plate than just an nine-year-old kid. I just knew that a real life monster was out there. I was in his backyard, and he wanted revenge. The Third Reich fell and I would be his retribution.

Morning came and I woke up. Sleep crept up and quietly defeated an unsuspecting defenseless child. Hitler didn't get me. I never worried about it again. A true evil did exist and I knew it in my heart. But I dropped it. It was a genuine threat and I moved on. A kid's got too much stuff going on in the summer to allow a little thing like the worst mass murderer being on the loose to bother him.

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If I were to pick a single song to represent this post it would be...

Me in about 1988. About a year before Hitler ruined my night.