Friedenskinder I, 2024
"Someone who is taking a deep breath will experience the world differently from someone who is being throttled."—Reiner Kunze, 1981
The GDR branded itself as a "peace state," projecting an image of democracy and pacifism while enforcing systematic militarisation. From kindergarten through university, education was infused with military ideology. School materials and activities instilled discipline, obedience, and a rigid friend-enemy worldview. Annual manoeuvres like Snowflake and pre-military training programmes reinforced these values, with my cohort attending a six-week course in Beichlingen. Independent peace movements were not tolerated—they were seen as threats to the state's defence readiness. This early indoctrination aimed to mould children into loyal defenders of the socialist fatherland, embedding them deeply within state ideology. Since 1962, 18 months of compulsory military service had been enforced. Those unwilling to bear arms could opt for non-armed service, but refusal often led to imprisonment. Conscientious objection was not recognised, and university admission required a commitment to three years of military service.
In the mid-1980s, as a young teacher, I was suddenly summoned to the district council after school. I had no idea what the meeting was about and no opportunity to prepare. After a tense bus ride, I was led to a closed door. Inside, a panel of officials awaited me, along with my headmaster and the parents of a student. The boy had applied to become a professional officer at just 14, and I was questioned about why I had not presented him as a role model to the class. They also challenged how, as a non-member of the FDJ youth organisation, I could be trusted to convey socialist ideals. Completely overwhelmed, I broke down—a moment that has stayed with me to this day.
Recently, I discovered a notebook from the early 1980s containing short stories from “Die wunderbaren Jahre” by East German author Reiner Kunze. His work was rarely accessible in the East. I could only borrow it temporarily and in secret, and I had to copy it by hand using a typewriter. Distributing or lending such 'forbidden' books carried significant risks, with the threat of police surveillance or house arrest looming over anyone found with banned printed material.
Kunze’s critical portrayal of the GDR’s totalitarian system led to censorship, surveillance, and his eventual expulsion from East Germany. His short story Friedenskinder directly questioned the militarisation of children. This project is a homage to Reiner Kunze
For this piece, I used copies of the typed text, cut them up, and rolled them to fit into 5 cm high used rifle shell cases.There are 28 pieces in total, each approximately 15 cm high. Two images, each measuring 44 cm high by 88 cm wide. The prints are Giclée inkjet prints on INNOVA White Matte 285g.


The GDR branded itself as a "peace state," projecting an image of democracy and pacifism while enforcing systematic militarisation. From kindergarten through university, education was infused with military ideology. School materials and activities instilled discipline, obedience, and a rigid friend-enemy worldview. Annual manoeuvres like Snowflake and pre-military training programmes reinforced these values, with my cohort attending a six-week course in Beichlingen. Independent peace movements were not tolerated—they were seen as threats to the state's defence readiness. This early indoctrination aimed to mould children into loyal defenders of the socialist fatherland, embedding them deeply within state ideology. Since 1962, 18 months of compulsory military service had been enforced. Those unwilling to bear arms could opt for non-armed service, but refusal often led to imprisonment. Conscientious objection was not recognised, and university admission required a commitment to three years of military service.
In the mid-1980s, as a young teacher, I was suddenly summoned to the district council after school. I had no idea what the meeting was about and no opportunity to prepare. After a tense bus ride, I was led to a closed door. Inside, a panel of officials awaited me, along with my headmaster and the parents of a student. The boy had applied to become a professional officer at just 14, and I was questioned about why I had not presented him as a role model to the class. They also challenged how, as a non-member of the FDJ youth organisation, I could be trusted to convey socialist ideals. Completely overwhelmed, I broke down—a moment that has stayed with me to this day.
Recently, I discovered a notebook from the early 1980s containing short stories from “Die wunderbaren Jahre” by East German author Reiner Kunze. His work was rarely accessible in the East. I could only borrow it temporarily and in secret, and I had to copy it by hand using a typewriter. Distributing or lending such 'forbidden' books carried significant risks, with the threat of police surveillance or house arrest looming over anyone found with banned printed material.
Kunze’s critical portrayal of the GDR’s totalitarian system led to censorship, surveillance, and his eventual expulsion from East Germany. His short story Friedenskinder directly questioned the militarisation of children. This project is a homage to Reiner Kunze
For this piece, I used copies of the typed text, cut them up, and rolled them to fit into 5 cm high used rifle shell cases.There are 28 pieces in total, each approximately 15 cm high. Two images, each measuring 44 cm high by 88 cm wide. The prints are Giclée inkjet prints on INNOVA White Matte 285g.

