"Your violin-playing husband, Anna, and a Mannerheim inmate (the Mannerheim was Vienna's refuge of last resort for unemployed men who were totally without assets), an upper Austrian petite bourgeois (Viennese felt vastly superior to upper Austrians regarding them if unfairly as dull, plotting peasants), are going to lead us like Moses to the promised land," my father said.
"Why don't you say 'just a corporal,' too?" Uncle Otto said.
"All right," my father said. "An upper Austrian petite bourgeois corporal is going to lead us to the land of milk and honey. And in the meantime, turn us all into Germans. That's the real miracle. I don't have one drop of German blood in me, but he's going to make me into a German."
Page 93, As the Waltz Was Ending by E. B.
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