Love Story Of An Entrepreneur (Complete)

The rising dark red morning sun shone, apparently trying to breathe color back into the mountain. This majestic structure made of rock that nobody had to put up with. In contrast to the viewer, it is free and self-determined. On the one hand, he loathed him for it. Although, otherwise, he already liked him.

He knew the shapes and shades of this massive mountain. Because for the past two hundred and forty days, whenever he woke up, he could look at him from the barracks, from his quarters from the bunk bed. But this morning he loved him. Goodbye Berg, thought Private Harald Steiner, take care. Maybe we'll see each other again one fine day. Then, however, I as a free person and certainly no longer as a trodden receiver of orders, as before.

Still lost in thought, looking at the increasingly lighter shades of the mountain, he suddenly heard a voice shouting "day watch" outside in the hallway. Any other, for the past two hundred and forty days, he would have run down the stairs like everyone else. Then, like his comrades, to line up in the barracks yard. Drunk asleep, shivering in the morning dew, sometimes chattering teeth, everyone would have had to endure the damned status check again.

After that, everyone would have run to morning exercise in their seemingly ridiculous tracksuits, like every day, in the barracks area. Also through the dreaded tank pit at the tank training area, this hated dirt hole. Where you always had to be very careful not to slip on the damp clay soil and fall into a man-high water-filled mud hole.

Oh God! He thought how I hated it all. In the first six weeks of basic training, as he vividly recalled, it was still reasonably bearable. At least there was still real "action" going on. But then after that? Those endlessly long months in the company office. In retrospect, where he served until the end, just milked mice. Nothing more than stupid routine.

Sometimes orders came in that couldn't even make sense. Add to that the constant muscle play of the superiors. Often very little in the head. But for some, a few stars and a few bars on the collar tab were enough. In order to really show "who you are". You had to understand where you are on the very first day

Fortunately, it's over now for good, he thought. Eight months of completely wasted time, completely unproductive. A state-ordered theft of a lifetime, so to speak. Oh what, just forget it! He said to himself and, contrary to usual practice, got up very comfortably. Went to the washroom, showered, and done the morning toilet. Then calmly and calmly he cleared the locker. First he had to hand the rifle over to the armory. That thing he'd never fired a sharp shot with.

When that was done, he returned the remaining equipment to the so-called military equipment room. Then got his civilian clothes from the accommodation. He looked around briefly at the accommodation, then left the unloved place with a quick step. To pick up the discharge papers and the few lousy toads from the rest of the pay from the company office. With a deep, satisfying and at the same time liberating breath, he then passed through the main gate, the Salzburg barracks. Past a gate post that stared at him rather angrily.

He then headed for the nearby bus stop and wanted to get to Salzburg Central Station as quickly as possible. To catch the express train to Vienna. A little later, Harry, as most called him, was sitting in the train compartment. Just take a cursory look at the landscape darting past the window. The thoughts now revolved around his future plans. Projects that he had always thought of during the long lonely hours at the watch. But one thing, he had realized, was as certain as the amen in church.

In the future, he won't let himself be ordered around by anyone. As he remembered, during his waiter apprenticeship, he was always ordered around there. Then later, after his apprenticeship, when he got the job in a large hotel, first in the restaurant, then later as a floor waiter, it had never been any different. In the big box, an American hotel chain, there was discipline and order, because of employee-friendly personnel management. Even there you were only sent around.

The hotel manager, an American who at one point served in the Marines, as he often proudly told. Apparently thought I was still there. He commanded the staff, as seemed the custom there. This idiosyncratic management style had a full impact, of course, so that people in the hotel always worked according to the tone of command. The only consolation at the time was the relatively good pay, which could be improved by additional night shifts.

But the crowning glory when commanding around came in the end with the armed forces. But now it's finally over, he swore to himself, over and over, not with me anymore! He thought that when I arrive in Vienna, I'll go straight to this American with his clean-shaven pear. Who thinks he's the greatest man of all time anyway. And explain to him that I will immediately start the fortnight's vacation that I am still entitled to after my military service. Then I'll let the sun burn on my fur somewhere in the south. It doesn't matter whether it suits him or not. Inwardly, he was happy about this decision and even found himself extremely courageous. Several weeks earlier, something like this would not have occurred to him even in a dream, not even in the boldest.