Adam Bayne
Chapter 22 The Konkordat with Pope Pius XI. US oil magnates
in Berlin.
As Hitler had directed me, I attended a meeting with Eugenio
Pacelli, Papal Nuncio (Vatican Ambassador), at his Tiergarten
residence in Berlin. The place was known for its lavish dinner
parties for Berlin society and the diplomatic elite.
As usual, when we went to Berlin, I took Helene and stayed with
Helene B.
Franz von Papen was already at Pacelli’s office when I arrived. Von
Papen was technically Vice-Chancellor, but this was a political
appointment to make Hitler’s government look more legitimate by
including ex-Weimar politicians.
Pacelli presented the draft Konkordat. It was an agreement
promising that Catholic clergy and the Church itself would not in
any way become involved with German politics. The Church would
be a silent observer.
Pope Pius XI had already agreed to the Konkordat text. Hitler and
von Papen had received draft copies earlier, and Hitler told me that
he had no comments. So, my meeting with Pope-to-be Pacelli was
purely a rubber stamp session.
However, Pacelli requested that all Catholic clergy be exempt from
conscription to the armed forces. I said I had no objection but
suggested this would not be popular with the German people. Pacelli
was well prepared and produced a side letter to the Konkordat
documenting the exemption. It would be kept secret.
I said we would consult Hitler. Once again, Pacelli produced a pre-
written letter addressed to Hitler: ‘We hope this secret addendum
will be pleasing to you.’ There was a space at the bottom for von
Papen and me to sign. We did, and a messenger took the letter to
Hitler. We then signed the Konkordat, which, due to the Vatican’s
snail-like administration, was finally ratified only in September.
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Strangely it has never been rescinded and is still valid today as I
write this.
When I told Helene about Pacelli’s fantastic foresight and
preparation, she said, ‘With organisational skills like that, he would
make a good Pope.’ Once again, Helene’s insight was proven
correct. Pacelli was elected Pope Pius XII in 1939.
Helen and I stayed with Helene B for the weekend, enjoying her
hospitality before we returned to Munich.
Hoffmann came to see me that week, saying he had some exciting
news. As usual, he needed a drink to continue. He told me he had
approval from Hitler to offer a commission to Leni Riefenstahl to
direct and produce a film of the Nazi rally in Nuremberg. He had
contacted her by phone, and she had tentatively agreed. She was
coming to Munich next week, and he asked if we could host a dinner
one evening. He did not wait for my agreement but asked if his
daughter Henny and her husband Baldur von Schirach might also
attend. He was so excited to meet Leni, so I did not mention his
overreach in manners.
Helene was also excited to meet the movie queen. She had seen all
her films so far. Helene said Magda was also a huge fan. So the next
week, we hosted a dinner with Leni as the guest of honour attended
by Hitler and Eva, the Goebbels, Hoffman, his daughter and son-in-
law, and ourselves.
Helene was close to panic, trying to decide what to prepare. We all
knew now that Hitler had become a vegetarian, which complicated
the menu planning, so I suggested a simple meal of potato
dumplings and spaetzle.
Helene augmented my menu to include a watercress and radish salad
with Remischen rye bread rolls as a starter. This would be followed
by Kartoffelkloesse (dumplings) and Spaetzle, with broccoli and
cauliflower cheese. Dessert, of course, had to be the chocolate
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eclairs from the Hofpfisterei bakery, each decorated with a little
swastika.
The visit of Leni Riefenstahl was the talk of the Brown House, and
Christa asked Hoffmann if there was any chance of Leni visiting the
office. Hoffmann said he would do his best and ask her, acting as if
he and Leni were best friends.
Magda came over to Café Gentz the morning of the famous dinner
party and brought her maid to assist Helene. The table was laid
before three o’clock. As usual, Hitler and Eva arrived first and
precisely on time. Hoffmann had collected Leni from the Four
Seasons hotel and came with her and his family. Joseph Goebbels
brought up the rear.
Leni turned out to be a most likeable person. She enthralled us with
her stories of filmmaking and the stars she knew, including the time
she met Charlie Chaplin. She said Chaplin told her he was an
admirer of Hitler and the Nazi party, which made Hitler blush.
‘You see, my dear Fuhrer,’ said Eva, ‘You are famous even in
America,’ which resulted in a toast by Hoffmann, ‘To the Third
Reich.’ We all stood and raised our glasses.
Hitler then turned to Leni, ‘Leni,’ he said, ‘If I may call you Leni, I
am a great admirer of your filmmaking skills. I have seen all your
work. I would like you to make and direct a movie of the Nazi party
rally in Nuremberg in September. Would you do this honour for the
party and me personally?’ I thought what a smooth talker he could
be when he was not making lists of people to execute.
Leni replied, ‘It will be an honour, my Fuhrer, if I may call you my
Fuhrer,’ which brought a giggle from the ladies. She continued, ‘But
I have two requests. One: I must have complete artistic control, no
censoring, and no editing, and two: I will have an unlimited budget.’
‘Agreed, as long as you allow me to decide the title, which shall be
The Victory of Faith. Do we have a deal, Leni?’
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Leni replied, ‘I love it, my Fuhrer.’ With the bargain struck,
Hoffmann glowed with pride.
Eva said, ‘I am so excited, Leni, thank you. Now let us eat this
delicious food that Helene and Magda have prepared.’ I glanced at
Helene, and we smiled as Magda took as much credit as she could.
Leni was fascinated by the eclairs, ‘What a wonderful idea,’ she said
to Helene as she bit off a swastika. After we had finished eating, Eva
was more enthusiastic than usual, and she had a sparkling
conversation with Leni.
The evening was over much too quickly for everyone when Hitler
did his usual trick of pulling out his pocket watch and looking at the
time. He did not need to say a word, but everyone knew the party
was over.
Helene and I stood on the porch and waved goodbye as their
chauffeurs drove our guests away. Before he left, Hitler whispered
to me, ‘I see Leni is at the Four Seasons. I hope you remember we
are to have a little dinner party there,’ and he chuckled as he and
Eva walked arm-in-arm to their waiting limousine.
I said aloud to Helene, ‘I hope Goebbels didn’t forget to take the
lady out of the back seat before Magda got in.’
Helene, always the pragmatic one, said, ‘Don’t make remarks like
that out loud; you never know who might be listening.’ She was
right, of course. We were now living in a Police State ruled by a
ruthless dictator. It had happened so quickly. It was hard to believe.
The veneer of democracy was fragile indeed.
The weeks leading up to the rally were quiet. In June, Hitler had
promoted Martin Bormann to Reichleiter (and second only to the
Fuhrer) with the responsibility to organise the Nuremberg rallies.
We had heard his name mentioned but were yet to meet him. He had
a reputation as an organiser, and he proved this ability with the rally
becoming an annual event.
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On the day I saw in the newspapers that the Ha’avara Agreement
had been signed, I received a message from Putzi that a delegation
of American industrialists was coming to Berlin and wanted to meet
Hitler. When I mentioned this to Hitler, he said he couldn’t meet
them due to his total commitment to the Rally. ‘You are authorised
as my representative, Adam,’ he said.
This is why I missed the first two days of the Rally. I had to go to
Berlin to meet the American delegation.
I would come to Nuremberg directly from my meeting in Berlin.
The Nazi party had taken over the entire Hotel Deutscher Hof in
downtown Nuremberg for the Rally. Magda kindly offered to pick
up Helene from Munich to take her there.
As August turned into September, I welcomed the American
delegation at the Presidential Palace. The delegation leaders were
William Farish, President of the Thyssen-Standard Oil Joint Venture
(Standard IG Farben) and Prescott Bush, later director of the United
Banking Corporation and founder of the eponymous American
political dynasty. Fritz Thyssen was their chaperone. We ensured
they had VIP treatment.
The meeting started with agreements for the exchange of industrial
process patents. From the Germans, the Americans would get the
process to make synthetic rubber, who would get the process to
produce oil from coal.
The IG Farben group companies, Bayer, BASF, and Hoechst, would
also share pharmaceutical technology with Rockefeller’s chemical
companies. Rockefeller was already a significant shareholder in IG
Farben.
AEG, Siemens, and Osram made technology transfer deals with
General Electric.
Fritz Thyssen made it clear to all that there would be neither minutes
nor written agreements arising from these meetings. We all
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understood why.
Everyone agreed on everything. It was one of the quickest and
easiest international meetings I have ever attended. The meeting
finished before three o’clock. Fritz went off with the small convoy,
and I relaxed in Hitler’s office. Fritz had booked a table at the Hotel
Adlon Kempinski, where the delegation was staying. I had booked a
room there for myself because Helene B was at the rally in
Nuremberg, and I was shy to use her home as a hotel.
We met in the hotel bar and sat at a special table with views over the
Brandenburg Gate for a few drinks. All the Americans showed their
limited imagination for food by ordering steaks, just as they had
done for drinks in the bar earlier by ordering bourbon.
Nevertheless, I could report to Hitler that he had immense support
from America. The same information would be in my XC report to
London.
It was a pleasant dinner followed by more drinks in the bar. I went
to bed wondering if the public in America knew how much support
Hitler and the Nazi party had from their politicians and primary
industries.
The following day, I was up early and drove the more than two
hundred miles to Nuremberg in the Red Dragon, arriving at the
Hotel Deutscher Hof in the afternoon.
I dared not tell Hitler, but I found the Rally rather dull. Thousands of
marching soldiers and Hitler Youth. I was amazed at the number of
tanks and military vehicles that paraded past Hitler, considering the
Versailles Treaty forbade this.
The hugely impressive Cathedral of Light lit up Nuremberg. Hitler’s
architect Albert Speer had designed it. One hundred and fifty-two
anti-aircraft searchlights pointed straight up at twelve-meter
intervals encircling the stadium. It was visible for miles around.
Herman Goering told me later that he had argued with Speer. Hitler
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said, ‘Don’t worry, Goering, it will trick other nations into believing
Germany has far more searchlights than we actually have.’ One
hundred and fifty-two were indeed all his newly formed Luftwaffe’s
had.
Even Goering admitted it was an impressive display. It featured in
Leni Riefenstahl’s movie and became an iconic scene.
It was at the light show one evening I met Martin Bormann for the
first time. I congratulated him on an inspirational rally. ‘Hitler’s
speeches mesmerise the crowds,’ he said, ‘I wish I could do that, but
I can make the stages.’ I cannot explain why, but I did not like
Bormann from the moment I met him, but he was so competent
Hitler grew to trust and rely on him. He was not popular with any of
the Silver Pheasants or their husbands.
Helene and I were glad we were back in Munich when it was over.
On 10th September, Pacelli sent us a message that the Konkordat had
been ratified and signed by Pope Pius XI. That evening Helene
shocked me by saying Putzi was coming in two weeks, and she was
going to tell him she wanted a divorce. ‘What has brought this
about?’ I asked. Helene replied, ‘You. You naive, wonderful man,’
and I really did blush.
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Chapter 23 The Spear of Destiny and the Ahnenerbe Project.
Leni Riefenstahl.
When we collected Putzi from Augsberg airport, you could have cut
the atmosphere in the Red Dragon with a knife.
No one talked much until we were back in Uffing. Helene said she
would prefer to go there rather than Café Gentz. I asked if I should
leave, but Helene said no; she wanted me to be part of the
discussion.
We sat around the dining table, and Putzi poured himself a large
Cognac. Helene did not need to start the conversation; Putzi jumped
straight in.
‘Well, Helene,’ he began, ‘It looks like the time has come. I realise
that people change and all good things must end. We had some good
times, which I shall always remember fondly, so I want to say no
hard feelings. I want us all to remain good friends. We have Egon to
consider. I assure you of my complete support for our son.’
I was indeed taken aback by his pragmatism and felt very relieved. I
had not known what to expect.
Helene said, ‘Thanks, Putzi. I, too, have some great memories and
look forward to remaining good friends.’
The room went quiet for a moment, and we all looked around
uncomfortably. Putzi dived in again, ‘Right, that is that then. If you
do not mind, I will stay here while I am in Munich,’ he said in his
matter-of-fact way, ‘you two had better get back to Café Gentz. By
the way, Adam, any chance of organising an automobile and driver
for me for a few days?’
I was glad to get away and said as we left, ‘Of course, Putzi, there
will be a car and chauffeur here for you in the morning.’ It was the
least I could do.
Back at Café Gentz, nothing had changed, yet it felt different.
Maybe I had never really relaxed before. After all, I was having an
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illicit affair with a friend’s wife. Now it seemed it was no longer
illicit. We had an early night, and Helene told me she had never felt
more secure and happy. I went to sleep contentedly, thinking of the
new life we had embarked upon.
Over breakfast, the following day, the reality of the bizarre meeting
the previous evening dawned on me. I looked at my beautiful
Helene still in her silk nightgown and said, ‘Are you happy, my
love?’ ‘Of course,’ she replied, ‘I have never been happier.’ That
was enough for me.
We soon settled down into our everyday work routine. Leni
Riefenstahl hosted a private viewing of her film of the Nuremberg
rally to the delight of the staff at the Brown House. She also took the
time to sign autographs for everyone. Hoffman strutted around like a
peacock, his body language saying, ‘I arranged all of this.’ When
Hitler thanked him personally, he almost crowed aloud.
I liked Hoffmann, and so did everyone at the Brown House. But it
was not only Hoffmann who wanted to shower in praise. As the
lights dimmed, Hitler announced, ‘This is Leni Riefenstahl’s latest
film. It is entitled The Victory of Faith. By the way, I suggested the
title.’ Murmurs of ‘A great idea’ and ‘Good title, my Fuhrer’ went
around to Hitler’s delight as he signalled Hoffmann to start the
projector.
The next item on my task list was the Austrian magician. I asked
Helene to get Magda over for dinner to discuss Hanussen, which she
did. Magda and Helene reported that they had tried to arrange for
him to come to Munich and conduct a seance. When they received
no reply, they sent Emil Maurice and Julius Kempka to Vienna to
find him. They returned with the news that Hanussen had been
tortured and killed. The police had only recently discovered his
shallow grave. The word on the street was that the killers were two
Communist assassins.
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‘Well,’ I said, ‘How inconsiderate is that’ which did not get the
laugh I expected from Magda or Helene. I looked suitably chastised
and asked, ‘What are we going to do now for a magician?’ Helen
said, ‘Don’t worry, my love, we have something extraordinary in
mind.‘
On the following Friday, Helene arranged a private meeting between
Magda, herself, and me. Also invited were Eva Braun and Ilse Hess,
but they had told them that they should come alone, without their
partners. The reason for the meeting was a secret.
On that evening, as the guests arrived, they excitedly asked what it
was all about. Helene said, ‘sit down and get a drink, please, ladies.’
She then went to the sideboard and brought out a weird spear-shaped
thing. It had what appeared to be a golden centre. She laid it on the
table handling it with noticeable respect.
‘This is the Spear of Longinus, the Roman centurion who used it to
pierce the side of Jesus as he hung on the cross. It is also called the
Spear of Destiny. It is said to impart psychic power to its owner
when their destiny is threatened.’
‘Gosh, Helene, where did you get that from?’ I asked.
‘I have heard of this spear,’ said Eva, ‘If this is the real thing,
Adam’s question is crucial.’
‘The spear has been the property of the Habsburg dynasty for two
thousand years. I sent Kempka and Maurice to Vienna to find the
astrologer Hanussen, but you know the result. During their
investigations within the criminal underworld, they heard about the
spear. Let us say that Kempka made a deal with the curator of the
Habsburg museum in Vienna. Kempka discovered that one facsimile
copy was made and was in Prague Castle. But the jeweller had
created two copies. Kempka knew this would be of interest, so he
contacted us, and we told him to get the original spear. The curator,
faced with threats to him and his family plus the potential to get a
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hefty bribe, agreed to put the second copy on display and give the
authentic spear to us.’
‘But how did you pay the curator? It must have been a considerable
sum.’
Magda spoke, ‘Adam do you remember when the Hanussen’s
predictions proved correct, and Hitler asked you to investigate?’ ‘I
remember his actual words,’ continued Magda, ‘Hitler said let us see
what we can do with this mystical stuff to support the master race
theory. He then said to open a special secret project fund for the
Ahnenerbe Project.’
Helene continued, ‘We contacted Wilhelm Keppler, who had
already opened an account for the Ahnenerbe project at the Austrian
bank Creditanstalt in Vienna. We arranged for the transfer to the
curator’s account in America via the BIS. Kempka said the curator
organised a week of sick leave and took his family on a liner to New
York, never to be seen again.
‘How much did he get?’ I asked.
‘Exactly what he asked for. ‘One hundred and thirty-three thousand
US dollars,’ Helene replied, ‘
‘Well, I sincerely hope this piece of metal is worth it,’ I said,
astonished.
‘Wait until you hear our plan before you pass judgement,’ laughed
Magda.
The ladies went on to say they had shown Himmler the Spear of
Destiny, and he had become ecstatic. He said the SS planned to
model its setup on the Order of Teutonic Knights. Esoteric initiation
ceremonies would instil fanatical loyalty amongst a brotherhood of
pure Aryans. Mysticism would be at the heart of the SS, and the
Spear of Destiny could be the first relic used for initiation. He would
form the SS Ahnenerbe division, dedicated to harnessing the power
of occult magic and psychic powers for use as a weapon. The
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division would use astrology to help plan strategies and develop
programs to train those who could kill with their minds - psychic
assassins.
I thought, ‘My God, more occult madness.’
Himmler said he would show the spear to Hitler and convince him
to expand the original Ahnenerbe project to become a formal
division of the SS.
‘Leave it to me,’ he had told them, ‘we will soon have SS
Ahnenerbe teams around the globe searching for the Holy Grail and
other powerful magical relics.’ I have already hired Professor
Herman Wirth at Berlin University to start the research.
I reached for my drink and took a deep swig. Eva raised her glass in
a toast, ‘To the Ahnenerbe Project and the destiny of my beloved
Fuhrer.’
We all raised our glasses, ‘To the Ahnenerbe Project.’
I sat down and looked around the room at the excited ladies. I got up
again and went across to the table. I picked up the Spear of Destiny.
Was it my imagination, or did it tingle slightly in my hands? I
thought, ‘What have we begun?’
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Chapter 24 Kaffee HAG and the Guillotine. Hitler plays a
practical joke.
Himmler took the Spear of Destiny and presented it to Hitler, which
had the desired effect. He told Himmler to immediately form the SS
Ahnenerbe division and get Keppler to provide an unlimited budget.
Himmler told us later that Hitler had instructed him to choose only
the purest Aryans for the division.
Himmler set about the Ahnenerbe Project with unbridled
enthusiasm. Every time we met, even in the corridor, he would pull
me aside and give me a half-whispered progress report.
On Friday, 13th of October 1933, Magda and Joseph invited us for
dinner at the Osteria Bavaria. Magda announced that she was again
pregnant, and the baby was due in April of next year.
The next day, President von Hindenburg announced Germany’s
withdrawal from the League of Nations and the World Disarmament
Conference. The world did not react to either announcement. In
hindsight, at least there should have been an outcry against the latter.
On the same day, von Hindenburg also decreed the dissolution of
the Reichstag. There was to be a general parliamentary election on
12th November. Moreover, Chancellor Hitler would give a talk on
the radio at seven that evening.
We contacted as many office staff as possible and invited them to
come and listen on the office radio that Saturday evening.
Electioneering by radio was still a novelty in 1933.
We arranged for beer and snacks and were ready to hear the
broadcast with glasses filled. The Goebbels collected Eva and
brought her to the Brown House. Himmler, Hess, and the
Hoffmanns were also there. Putzi arrived, and I was surprised that
there was no tension between us. It was quite a party atmosphere.
Precisely on time, the radio crackled, and there was quiet applause
as Hitler’s voice came through loud and clear. The message was
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momentous, and I needed to relate it to London verbatim.
‘The German government is ready to negotiate just and fair
international agreements, but it must be based on equality. I
will not allow the German people to endure the humiliations
of the past government. We shall no longer tolerate any
oppression or hardships.’
‘This is why I want the German people to endorse my
decisions at the coming election.’
‘Germany will leave the League of Nations, but smoothly
and in a friendly manner, not as rebels but as righteous
protestors.’
‘Furthermore, Germany is ready to conclude continental
non-aggression pacts for long periods to serve European
peace and cultural reconstruction, but on the strict condition
that Germany must have equal armaments.’
‘This is an inalienable condition for Germany’s participation.
Furthermore, Germany has no intention of participating in an
armaments race with other nations.’
Hitler concluded:
‘Germany and the German people will no longer be treated
as a second-class European country.’
A much louder round of applause filled the office when he had
finished. We all stayed at the office until ten, finishing the beer and
giant pretzels.
A couple of days later, Himmler came into my office to introduce
Reinhard Heydrich, the proposed chief of his new Intelligence
Service, the Sicherheitsdienst (SD). His wife Lina was a good friend
of Karl von Eberstein, the Munich Police Chief, from whom
Reinhard had a letter of recommendation. Himmler left him in my
office while he attended to some other matter, and we chatted.
Heydrich was intelligent and passionately committed to the Nazi
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party and Hitler. I had no doubt he would make a good chief of
Internal Intelligence, but I had no idea how cruel he would be.
Himmler asked for my opinion, so I told him Heydrich would make
a good head of intelligence. I had always felt guilty when I realised
what a monster he had developed into. Helene reassured me that
Himmler would have hired him, whatever I said.
The November election was not such a significant event, more of a
public relations exercise as Hitler already had control of the
government. For the record, the Nazi party received over ninety-two
per cent of the votes and retained all six hundred and sixty-one seats
in the parliament.
On the Wednesday after the election, all hell broke loose in the
Brown House. Goering called in Putzi and said he would not allow
such moral degradation among his staff and threatened to have him
expelled or even incarcerated. Goebbels found out that Putzi had
been having or had tried to have a relationship with Hitler’s
secretary Christa. Christa said she was intimidated by Putzi’s
persistence but refused all his physical advances. However, she did
admit to having dinner with him and visiting the house in Uffing one
evening. We shall never know whether she was telling the truth or
saving her job. But Putzi ended up taking and getting the blame.
Putzi was genuinely scared when he came to see us at Café Gentz
that evening. He begged us to get Hitler to intercede on his behalf.
Putzi, of course, blamed Christa and called her some unsavoury
names.
I was surprised that Helene had little sympathy for her soon-to-be
ex-husband, but I suspected she knew his true character. I agreed to
contact Hitler for damage limitation, which I did the next day.
I had to be careful not to undermine Goering’s authority. I told
Hitler that Putzi was critical to maintaining the financial support of
the American industrialists. Hitler agreed and said he would explain
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this to Goering and did not want any publicity. He proposed that
Putzi go back to America but said again to ensure there is no
disruption to the agreed financing. Luckily Putzi had established a
firm and solid network. Hitler understood this.
Richard Darré, the Nazi Minister for Agriculture, had telephoned me
that morning with the news that Hitler had approved the allocation
of three hundred thousand hectares of land for Standard Oil to
purchase at a nominal price. The land was to be used to build oil
refineries.
I thought this would be a good cover story to explain why Putzi
needed to return to America so hastily. He needed to report the news
personally to William Farish and Prescott Bush. Putzi could take the
credit for Standard Oil being gifted a vast swathe of prime German
industrial land.
Putzi realised that having Goering as an enemy was not a clever
idea. He did not need any encouragement to leave Germany and was
on the train to Hamburg the next day.
He confirmed that he would continue working to ensure American
finance flowed across the Atlantic without interruption. He added
that he would never return to Germany while the Nazis were in
power. He had assured me of this when I said goodbye at the train
station. He said he was not stupid and reminded me what had
happened to Chaim Arlozorov, who thought he was safe on a public
beach thousands of miles away in Tel Aviv.
‘I will pass on your regards to Bush and Farish when I see them,’ he
shouted from the open window as the train pulled away. It would be
more than ten years until I saw him again, and the world would be
vastly different.
We received a message within a week that he was back in New
York. It said I could report to Hitler that Farish and Bush were
delighted and that Standard Oil was to begin immediately planning
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the construction of refineries in Germany.
It is amazing how quickly news spreads, and the next day Fritz
Thyssen came to Munich. He said he wanted to talk to me privately,
and I assumed it was about Putzi.
I assumed correctly, and in confidence, I told him the real story.
This reassured him that nothing would change in our relationships or
agreements with the Americans. The agreed cover story would be
put into general circulation, which cheered him up.
He asked me to join him for lunch and insisted that Helene come
too. Fritz had already booked a table at the Four Seasons, and
Helene drove to meet us. She knew why he had come from Berlin to
see us face-to-face. She broke the ice by telling Fritz that she and
Putzi had already agreed on a divorce but had not officially
announced it. Fritz looked relieved, not because Putzi had escaped
safely without punishment, but because the Nazi party’s financial
support from America was not in jeopardy.
Before I arrived at the Four Seasons, I had checked with Christa
when Hitler would be back in Munich and booked a table for four on
his second night back to settle our bet about the winner of the Grand
Prix.
That evening Helene relaxed for the first time in a week. Although
her relationship with Putzi was over, they were still friends. The
accusation of an affair with Christa did not stand up to examination,
so we were sure Goering had a hidden agenda in getting rid of Putzi.
As we sat relaxing that evening, we mused what Goering’s real
motive could be. ‘Maybe it is jealousy?’ suggested Helene, ‘Do you
think Goering and Christa have anything going on if you know what
I mean?’
‘I do know what you mean,’ I said, ‘shall I talk to Christa?’ Helene
suggested we forget the whole affair, which is what we did. We
never found out what it was between Goering and Putzi, and it
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remained a mystery.
The next time Eva and Helene had one of their regular coffee
mornings, she primed Eva about the booking at the Four Seasons.
She said she would tell Hitler to expect the dinner.
Hitler came into the Brown House office on his second day back in
Munich and said he was looking forward to enjoying his winnings
that evening. Hitler left early and called around my open office door
as he went, ‘See you later.’ Christa noticed the mischievous look on
his face and asked me what it was all about. I told her the story, and
Christa said, ‘You would be surprised how much pleasure he gets
from trivial things like that. He always looks stern, but you should
see his nice side. He is a friendly person. He looks after his staff and
loves to play little jokes now and again.’ Until you get in the way of
his destiny, I thought to myself.
Helene and I were to be delighted that evening. We had a lovely
dinner. Eva was charming in her innocence and visible infatuation
with Hitler. The food and service were excellent, and when I called
for the bill, the waiter said, ‘Mr Hitler has taken care of that, sir.’ I
looked genuinely surprised.
‘You should not gamble, Adam,’ Hitler said as he got up to go, ‘I
thank you and Helene for giving Eva and me a very pleasant
evening, see you tomorrow,’ and off he went with Eva at his side. I
noticed he never went arm-in-arm nor showed any public display of
affection. Leaving our apartment in the dark late at night was fine,
though.
As soon as they had gone, I mentioned it to Helene, and she said,
‘Eva told us it was an unwritten rule of their relationship. Hitler
must be seen as the husband of all German women, so his public
image must be that of an eligible bachelor. She said she accepted it
but that it was difficult sometimes.’
Christmas was approaching fast, and the week before the public
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holiday, Christa told me I had an appointment for an important
meeting with Mr Ludwig Roselius. It had been arranged personally
by Hitler and Martin Bormann. I had no idea who this Ludwig was.
However, I soon found out when Christa ushered Herr Roselius into
my office, and he sat down.
‘Pleased to meet you, Mr Bayne. I do not usually make sales calls,
but this one is exceptional. I am the founder and owner of Kaffee
HAG, which, I am proud to announce, is now the official beverage
of the Nazi party.’
He continued, ‘Kaffee HAG has always been at the forefront of
Marketing and Sales. We were the first company to advertise in a
moving picture in a cinema.’
‘Excellent, how innovative of you,’ I said, trying to look serious.
Hitler and Bormann had well and truly set me up.
Ludwig explained that we now had a central purchasing agreement
with Kaffee HAG, which ensured that his company would deliver
weekly to all the Nazi offices. Christa came in with two cups of
Kaffee HAG on a tray and a wry smile.
After I had finished my cup of the vile brew and the infamous Mr
Kaffee HAG Roselius had left, I went to see Christa. She could no
longer keep a straight face and burst into laughter as I approached.
‘You knew about this, didn’t you,’ I said, pretending the angry.
‘Yes, and I had strict instructions to describe the look on your face
when you realised who he was,’ she said, and I joined in the
laughter.
As I returned to my office, I shook my head and thought, ‘official
coffee of the Nazi party, whatever next?’
We decided that the Putzi affair had given us enough stress and
excitement, so we agreed to have a quiet Christmas this year with no
dinner parties. We closed Café Gentz for a few days to go to the
countryside, and on the day before Christmas Eve, we left for
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Café Gentz and the Silver Pheasants
Uffing.
However, Magda insisted that we spend New Year’s Eve together
because she had some exciting news. The Goebbels did not entertain
at home, so they said to meet them at the Osteria Bavaria. They were
regulars, having the door opened by the maître d’ with a ‘Welcome,
Mr and Mrs Goebbels, your usual table tonight?’
As we sat down, the waiter opened the first bottle of Champagne.
Magda could contain herself no longer. ‘Listen to this, you two,’ she
said, ‘do you remember that stinking Communist rat Marinus van
der Lubbe who set fire to the Reichstag?’
We both nodded as we browsed the menu.
‘Well,’ went on Magda, ‘He has been found guilty and sentenced to
death on Wednesday the 10th of January, only a few days from now.’
‘I tend not to be in favour of the death penalty,’ said Helene, ‘But in
this case, I suppose it is justified.’
We stopped to give the waiter our orders. I ordered my favourite
traditional Bavarian Sausage Supper; smoked sausages with
vegetables and noodles. Helene ordered the pork roast, but I cannot
remember what Magda and Joseph ordered because of what Magda
said next.
‘I am so excited,’ she said, ‘that the Communist rat will be executed
on the first production model of my Guillotine.’
‘Too good for the Commie,’ interjected Joseph, ‘I wanted him
hanged slowly by piano wire.’
Magda and Joseph then discussed what method of execution should
apply to what criminal charges. Helene and I sat there mesmerised,
and luckily we did not have to say anything before our food arrived.
‘Oh my God,’ I said, ‘This looks fantastic,’ which changed the
subject away from execution methods. Helen remarked that Magda
was getting bigger and bigger, and she replied that the baby was due
in only two months. To keep the conversation away from that
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subject, I told them about my visit from Mr Ludwig Roselius. Soon
we were all laughing at me for being well and truly pranked.
She said, ‘This will be our second child; we plan to have six or
more.’ She broke off and said to Joseph, ‘do we not, my darling.’ He
smiled and nodded as he gulped Champagne.
‘But here is the fun part, Helene,’ she said, ‘All of their names will
start with the letter H in honour of our Fuhrer. What do you think?’
‘Brilliant idea,’ I said, ‘A toast to the Goebbels ‘H’ children,’ and
the four of us raised our glasses.
On the way home in the Red Dragon, I told Helene that Magda was
not only a witch but a mental witch. And this time, she did not
chastise me at all.
On the 10th of January 1934, only ten days after we laughed and
drank Champagne at Osteria Bavaria, Marinus van der Lubbe was
duly executed on Magda’s improved guillotine. But we were soon to
find out this was only one of many more executions that would take
place that year.
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Chapter 25 The Night of the Long Knives. Trade mission of US
industrialists in Munich.
On Tuesday, 22nd of February 1934, I remember the exact date
Hoffmann came into my office, and something was wrong. He
whispered and said he had to meet Helene and me at Café Gentz that
evening.
‘See you at seven o’clock,’ he muttered as he left. I wondered what
that was all about; he was behaving very strangely.
Hoffmann arrived, and we sat down in the lounge. He saw Helene
making my gin and tonic and said he wanted to try one. With drinks
served, Hoffmann began.
‘First of all, I must have your solemn promise that what I will tell
you now is an absolute secret between us only. I am not joking; this
is a matter of life and death.’
We assured Hoffmann of our total secrecy.
He continued, ‘Yesterday evening, my daughter Henny and her
husband Baldur came to visit us. Baldur von Schirach is Nazi Party
National Youth leader, he said proudly. They are both close to
Hitler. By the way, Baldur’s mother is English, and he speaks it
fluently. Hitler had called Baldur in for a private meeting in his
office. He said that Roehm and his SA Brownshirts had become a
threat to the Nazi cause. They were now considerably larger than the
German Army and had recruited ex-Communists into their ranks.
Roehm and his staff have abandoned the National Socialist views of
our party, and there were rumours that they might take over the
army. They have been infiltrated and contaminated by the
Communists of that bag of slime Thalmann.’
‘Baldur said that he told Hitler that he had reliable information that
seventy per cent of fresh SA recruits were former Communists.’
‘Hitler said they had become too powerful and too independent. We
have no alternative but to destroy them. He asked Baldur if he could
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rely on him and the Hitler Youth. Baldur said he guaranteed Hitler
his total commitment.’
‘There are no Communists in my Hitler Youth,’ Baldur had assured
Hitler.
‘Hitler told Baldur that he could trust only Heydrich, Himmler,
Goering, and you, Adam, but was not to mention this conversation
to anyone, even them. Hitler then said that Viktor Lutze, Roehm’s
deputy and second-in-command, had been complaining about the
Communist infiltration of the SA for some time. Lutze could be
trusted and was now ready to support a coup to cleanse the SA and
replace Roehm.’
‘Baldur then told Hitler of the circulating rumours that Roehm was a
homosexual and that new SA members were subjected to an
initiation at homosexual ceremonies.’
‘Baldur told me that Hitler then said, ‘The filthy pervert. I knew he
could not be trusted when I first set eyes on him.’’
Hoffmann stopped to take a breath and a good swig of his drink. He
seemed to enjoy the way the ice danced in the glass.
‘I like this English drink’, he said before he continued, ‘so you can
see that we six, that is me, Erna, Henny, Baldur, and you two, must
have nothing more to do with Roehm or his cronies. Their days are
numbered, believe me.’
I said I had also heard the rumours and discontent about Roehm and
the SA but that nobody dared say anything wrong about him because
he had been close to Hitler and was a founding party member.
Helene said, ‘He considers himself untouchable. Overconfidence
can be an extremely dangerous trait.’
‘I must go now,’ said Hoffmann, ‘but one more of these English
cocktails before I leave, please, Helene? With lots of ice bitte.’
We saw him out and thanked him for his friendship and confidence.
He told us to sit tight for the next few months and keep a low
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profile. He reiterated that we must avoid Roehm or anyone close to
him.
Everything went quiet for the next few weeks. In early April, Hitler
consolidated his political position by passing a decree abolishing the
Presidency and combining it with the role of the Fuhrer.
On the 11th of April 1934, Hitler arranged a meeting with the senior
staff of the Army and the Navy aboard the German Navy Cruiser
Deutschland. Baldur was in attendance as Hitler treated him as his
trusted aide. Once again, Hoffmann came to give us the lowdown on
what happened.
Hitler scared the assembled senior officers by telling them that
Roehm was planning a military coup to absorb them under his SA
control and rebrand it as a Peoples’ Army. It did not take much to
turn them against Roehm. Most of them already hated the SA, and
that jumped-up prancing fairy, as one of them described its head.
Though not asked to swear allegiance to Chancellor Hitler as their
supreme commander, they all did. With that commitment from the
Army and Navy, Hitler felt confident to proceed. He knew already
that he could count on Goering and the Luftwaffe.
Things were plodding along at the office, and it was a welcome
break when we celebrated the birth of Hildegard Traudel Goebbels
on the 13th of April 1934.
Roehm was getting bolder by having SA Brownshirt marches in
town centres across Germany. It was as if he wanted to demonstrate
his strength and power. The tension of knowing something
momentous would happen was heightened because we could only
stand and watch as the stage was set. On the 22nd of April, Heydrich
was appointed head of the Gestapo.
In June, Hitler visited Mussolini in Venice and took Baldur with
him. Hoffmann said it was a PR visit to demonstrate to the world
that Hitler was the Head of State in Germany, and that was how the
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international press reported it.
Putzi worked hard in America and organised a party of ten
American industrialists and bankers to visit Germany and meet
Hitler in June. William Randolph Hearst, the newspaper tycoon, was
the delegation leader. He brought his girlfriend, Marion Davis. They
had a personal meeting with Hitler on the 18th of June. After that,
Hearst’s newspaper empire was never critical of Hitler or the Nazi
party. Hearst received considerable criticism for this stance after
America joined the war.
For the group of American industrial magnates, Putzi had arranged a
transatlantic crossing on board one of the fastest liners afloat, the SS
Bremen. Her four steam turbines gave her a crossing time of fewer
than five days from Germany to New York at an average speed of
over fifty kph. She was a fine advertisement for German
engineering.
Hearst gave Putzi’s apologies for not coming. Helene’s ex-husband
claimed he had gone down with a dose of the flu just before the
party left New York. ‘Lucky for him,’ I said quietly to Helene, and
she smiled knowingly.
Back in America, Hearst put an editorial in his newspapers
supporting Hitler. It reported:
‘Germany is battling for liberation from the mischievous provisions
of the Treaty of Versailles and for her redemption from the
malicious suppression and encirclement to which European nations
have subjected her because of their avarice and short-sightedness.’
We had another break in the routine when Goering organised an
elaborate second funeral for our dear friend Carin, who we all
remembered so fondly. He had designed and constructed an
impressive underground mausoleum at Wuckersee for his deceased
wife, where her exhumed coffin went for reinterment. Wuckersee
was set in a beautiful nature park north of Berlin. A fleet of
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aeroplanes brought everyone there. Hess flew Helene and me there
in his own aircraft, which he kept at Augsberg Airport. It was not
the last time he flew out of Augsberg on an important flight.
At the funeral, Hitler himself read a moving eulogy. The whole
event was superbly organised and very poignant. Once again, we
witnessed the tremendous range between lightness and darkness that
Hitler and his close associates could exhibit. They could be part of
such moving and tender moments one day and then plumb the very
depths of evil the next. We did not have long to wait for the next
chapter of evil to begin.
It came on Saturday, the 30th of June 1934. It was the very day that
Baldur had warned us about in Hoffmann’s briefings. It would go
down in history as the Night of the Long Knives.
Helene and I spent that Saturday in blissful ignorance of the day’s
significance. We soon heard what was happening. Hoffmann and
Kempka were witnesses to the events and filled us in afterwards.
Hoffmann told us that Baldur was in Berlin with Goebbels that
Saturday morning. Goebbels telephoned Heydrich and Himmler
with the codeword Kolibri (hummingbird). It was the signal for the
teams of loyal SS men waiting in readiness across Germany. It was
the go-ahead to arrest the leaders of the SA Brownshirts.
Simultaneously Goebbels asked Baldur to phone Goering and Viktor
Lutze with the same codeword.
On Goebbel’s desk was a copy of The List containing the names of
those to be removed. Roehm was at the top of The List.
Roehm and his closest team were at the Hotel Lederer am See on
that Saturday, only fifty kilometres south of Munich. Unaware of the
danger ahead, he arranged a weekend retreat to reward his SA staff.
Erich Kempka drove Hitler to the hotel at the head of a convoy of
six vehicles early in the morning. On the way, SS men cut the
telephone lines to prevent any possibility of a warning.
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Kempka told us that Hitler burst into Roehm’s room, arresting him
at gunpoint. An SS Officer discovered SA Leader Edmund Heines
was in bed with an eighteen-year-old troop leader. Without
hesitation, Hitler ordered the bedmates taken out in their
undergarments to the hotel garden, where they were shot dead.
Kempka also told me about one thousand SA members were
arrested across Germany. Eighty were summarily executed and
many more died later in the concentration camps. Roehm and the
most senior SA officers were taken to Stadelheim prison, where all
except Roehm were executed the next day by the firing squad. Hitler
first ordered Roehm to be held in his cell but then told Kempka to
take a written order to SS-Brigadeführer Theodor Eicke at the prison
to give Roehm the option of suicide.
When Eicke read the order from Hitler, he went into Roehm’s cell
and gave him a Browning pistol. He closed the door and waited
outside for ten minutes with Kempka. Eicke turned to Kempka and
said, ‘That is enough time for anyone to shoot themselves.’ Kempka
said Eicke then opened the cell door, saw Roehm standing there and
shot him three times in the chest without saying a word. ‘Looks like
suicide to me,’ said Eicke and Kempka agreed.
Hans von Seisser was sent to Dachau on the same weekend Gustav
von Kahr faced execution. Neither were SA members, but they were
on The List. They were victims of Hitler’s capacity to hold a grudge.
Back in 1923, in Munich, they had both betrayed Hitler at the
Beerhall Putsch.
Baldur told us that one lucky soul on The List was arrested but
escaped. Kurt Ludecke was an Alterkampfer (an early party member
who took part in the Beerhall Putsch) and had been a close associate
of Hitler. Ludecke was responsible for obtaining many financial
sponsors in those early days. But he became too close to Roehm,
and Hitler put him on The List. Baldur said there were strong
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rumours that Kurt had been having an affair with Magda Goebbels.
What happened is a mystery, but he must have had high-level inside
help. His name disappeared off The List, and he was next heard of in
Czechoslovakia, from where he travelled to safety in America.
Back in the office on Monday morning, the entire political structure
of Germany had changed. The power of the SA was destroyed.
Hitler now had total control with no opposition.
On Thursday, 2nd of August 1934, President Hindenburg died. The
next day Hitler declared himself Fuhrer, Head of State, Chancellor,
Party Leader, and Chief of Government combined into one position.
Hitler was now the absolute dictator of Germany, with no limits to
his authority.
The response to my detailed XC report was positive, pointing out
that with a simplified governmental hierarchy, it would now be
easier to make beneficial industrial arrangements and joint ventures
with British companies. Furthermore, my trusted position as a
confidante of the dictator could be a huge advantage. There was no
mention of summary executions or imprisonment without trial.
Sometimes I wondered about the objectives of the British
Government.
At the end of the first week in August, Hoffmann dropped by my
office and asked us to host a dinner on Saturday because an old
friend was in town who he recommended we meet. As it was the
weekend after Hindenburg had died and Hitler was in Berlin, he
suggested we invite Eva Braun. Hoffmann loved to play the man of
mystery, and I was duly intrigued
I said, ‘Of course, but who is it?’ and Hoffmann, in his infuriating
way, said, ‘wait and see, and tell Helene he is not vegetarian’ he
laughed, ‘Eva will happily fall off the wagon when Adolf is not
around.’
I arranged for Kempka to chauffeur Eva, and we were already seated
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Adam Bayne
and chatting when I saw Hoffmann’s car pull up. Soon the mystery
man was introduced. It was party treasurer Wilhelm Keppler. We
had spoken on the phone before but never met, and he was pleased
to meet Eva too, as she had spoken to him at length on the phone
about the Ahnenerbe project.
Hoffmann had known Keppler for many years. He was the owner of
the Odin Works, a photographic processing chemical factory, and a
keen amateur photographer, so they had a lot in common. Keppler
was also chairman of an IG Farben subsidiary company. His official
title was Reich Commissioner for Economic Affairs. He was trusted
implicitly by Hitler and controlled Nazi finance right to the end, for
which he was sentenced to ten years in prison at the Nuremberg
trials.
We all liked him, and he became a good and handy friend.
Hoffmann said he and Keppler had just formed a new company
which traded in art and antiques. They had already built quite a
collection by purchasing the art assets of emigrating Jewish families
under the Ha’avara Agreement.
Helen said, ‘I hope you offer them a fair market price.’
To which Hoffmann replied, ‘Of course, everything is done legally
and with full transparency under the auspices of Sam Cohen, the
director of the Hanotea company. Let us know if there is any artist
you are fond of, and we will try to get you one or two. That is how
we obtained the von Alt painting for Hitler’s birthday.’
‘In fact,’ Hoffmann went on, ‘I have just made Fritz Thyssen
incredibly happy. He loves Brueghel the Elder, and I just picked up
Brueghel’s Floral Still Life painted in 1610 to add to his private
collection.’
Hoffmann paused, waiting for one of us to say, ‘Oh, so you know
Fritz Thyssen, do you,’ but none of us took the bait.
Eva asked Keppler to look out for ancient relics that could be useful
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to the Ahnenerbe Project. He said he would instruct his team of
valuation agents. Keppler told us that Himmler had asked him to
acquire Wewelsburg Castle for the Ahnenerbe project as an SS
retreat. He said he was negotiating a lease with the local
government.
Eva said Hitler had instructed Himmler to make a secure sanctuary
within the castle for the Spear of Destiny. Hitler had contacted his
old friend Professor Johan von Leers at the university of Jena to
look at designs for the inner sanctuary and initiation hall. Eva had
met him and said that he and Karl Wiligut co-founded the Order of
the New Templars. He had suggested to Eva that they make the
Castle the headquarters of the Order.
‘It is all so exciting,’ said Eva, ‘Who knows where this quest for
occult secrets and psychic powers will take us.’
Helene asked if Keppler would be at the Nuremberg rally next
month, and he said, ‘With Leni Riefenstahl filming the event, I
would not miss it for a fortune. Hoffmann and I will follow her
around like hound dogs.’
‘And I must tell you,’ said Hoffmann very loudly, ‘I am proud to
announce that my son-in-law Baldur von Schirach will be standing
next to the Fuhrer on the podium when he makes his main speech.’
After everyone had gone, Helene and I sat with a glass of port as a
nightcap. It was an enjoyable evening. There were six different
types of Bavarian sausage which Eva enjoyed immensely.
‘Eva was right; God knows where this occult adventure will take
us,’ said Helene.
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Chapter 26 Unity Mitford meets Hitler and Eva Braun’s suicide
attempt.
In reply to my XC report before the Nuremberg Rally, I was
requested to meet, monitor, and report on the visiting delegation
from the British Union of Fascists, a group established by the British
Nazi Sir Oswald Moseley. Although anti-communist, they were also
uncomfortably antisemite, and my masters wanted to know what
they were doing. The infamous Mitford sisters, Unity and Diana, led
the delegation.
I met with the group as directed and found Unity Mitford especially
interesting in an oddball way. She said she found Germany
appealing and had even enrolled in a language class to bolster her
school-girl level skills. She told me that when she first heard Hitler’s
speeches, she was utterly smitten and begged me to arrange a
personal meeting. I could not get a space in Hitler’s crazy schedule
that year. Unity said she would return the following year, and I
promised to do my best. ‘I will hold you to that,’ she said, and she
did.
I did not expect Unity to arrive in Munich in June, three months
before the annual Rally in Nuremberg. She sent me messages from
her hotel reminding me about my promise to arrange a personal
meeting with Hitler. However, the three months after she arrived in
Munich that year were so fateful that I had not been able to either
see her or arrange the promised meeting.
I was surprised when Helene told me she had met Unity Mitford by
chance. It was at the Osteria Bavaria one day. Helene and Eva were
there for lunch. Unity was sitting alone at a table in the front of the
restaurant. Unity revealed her nationality when she spoke to the
waiter, and Helene asked him about the English lady, and he replied
that she had been coming in three or four times a week since June.
Hitler often had lunch at the Osteria Bavaria when he was in
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Munich, and the waiter said she just stared at him whenever he came
in. Eva was intrigued and asked Helene to get Unity to join them,
which Helene did. When Unity was introduced to Eva, she became
almost unmanageable, saying how lucky Eva was to be with such a
wonderful man. Unity went on so much that Helene could see Eva
becoming embarrassed. Unity mentioned that she had met Adam
Bayne at the Nuremberg Rally last year, and he had promised to
arrange a meeting with Hitler.
Helen continued, ‘I did not think the petite blonde English girl could
get any more vociferous or excited, but when I told her I lived with
Adam, she excelled herself.’
‘Please, please, please,’ she begged dramatically, ‘please let me
meet the Fuhrer before I die.’ Eva looked at me and rolled her eyes.
Unity floated in the clouds for a few seconds as she imagined
meeting her idol but then changed the subject abruptly. She said she
was staying at the Hotel Laimer Hof, ‘You should see it, Helene, it
is hundreds of years old and so wonderful. Come and join me for
dinner and bring Adam.’
Helen said to me that she wondered if there was anything this
strange English girl was not enthusiastic about.
I said, ‘You forget I already met her in Nuremberg. She has an
overpowering personality but a fascinating charm. I find it tiring to
be in her presence.’
‘Well,’ said Helene, ‘Eva and I promised Unity next time Hitler has
lunch at Osteria Bavaria, we would introduce her if he were not with
VIP guests.’
And so it was, on Saturday, 11th of August, I sent an early morning
message to the Hotel Laimer Hof for the attention of Miss Unity
Mitford.
I kept it brief and asked her to be at her usual table in Hitler’s
favourite restaurant that lunchtime. I joined her as arranged and said,
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‘We will order lunch and act as if we just happen to be here.’
Unity was so excited she could not stop fidgeting, but when Hitler
came in, she froze. I thought she would pass out when he saw me
and came to our table. He said, ‘Good afternoon, Adam, please
introduce me to your friend,’ which I did.
‘Another English visitor. Munich is becoming full of them,’ quipped
Hitler. ‘Madame, you must join me for lunch. I will ask the waiter to
bring your plates to my table.’ I had never seen him become so
engrossed with a person as quickly as he became with Unity.
She focused entirely on Hitler and bombarded him with information.
There was no need for me to translate as she spoke reasonable
German but with a pronounced yet charming English accent. Hitler
just stared back with an amused smile.
‘My middle name is Valkyrie.’
‘Amazing,’ said Hitler.
‘I was born in Canada in a town called Swastika.’
‘Really,’ he said.
‘My grandfather Algernon Mitford was a personal friend of Richard
Wagner.’
‘A wonderful composer, one of my idols,’ he replied.
‘Grandpapa Algernon also wrote the introduction for two of
Houston Stewart Chamberlain’s books.’
The ever-superstitious Hitler said, ‘I do believe destiny has brought
us together today. Unity. I hope you will be staying for the rally next
month. Adam will arrange a VIP pass for you if you can attend.’
Later that evening, I said, ‘Helene, they spoke for another thirty
minutes before Hitler said he had to get back to the office. Unity
went to call for the bill, but I have never seen him so emphatic in his
insistence to pay.’
‘Hitler put on his usual charm and kissed Unity’s hand as he left the
table. Oh, by the way, I asked her to come around tonight for some
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casual drinks and to meet you.’ I added. It was her turn to roll her
eyes.
That evening Helene experienced the full force of Unity Mitford’s
personality.
‘Helene,’ she said, ‘I suppose I am the luckiest girl in the world. I
wrote in my journal that today has been my life’s most wonderful
and beautiful day. I had lunch with the greatest man of all time. I am
so happy that I wouldn’t mind dying a bit. Thank you, Adam,’ and
she sank back into the sofa, cradling her glass of wine.
We could not help but like her. Ignoring the frequent outbursts of
infatuation with Hitler, she was intelligent, charming and beautiful.
She told us that another of her dreams was to prevent any hostility
between England and Germany, a sentiment we all shared. She
waved goodbye out of the open window of her car as she was driven
away.
The following Monday, Hitler came into my office and thanked me
for introducing Unity. ‘She is a perfect specimen of Aryan
womanhood, and her connections to German culture are portentous.
By the way, which hotel is she staying at?’ I told him Unity was at
the Laimer Hof, ‘Just what I would have expected,’ he said as he
returned to his office.
As he had requested, I got Christa to send a letter to Bormann
arranging VIP tickets for Unity to attend the Rally.
Helene and I did not see her again until the Rally. In the meantime,
however, it seemed she had gotten to know Hitler quite well.
Maurice and Hoffmann reported that she was often seen at his side,
even at state events and at receptions with ambassadors.
In those days, we spent a lot of evenings with Magda Goebbels and
Hoffmann’s daughter Henny. These two both became very close
friends. Magda often joined us for the evening when her husband
had to attend formal receptions - usually men-only in that era.
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At the Rally, Hoffmann and Keppler followed Leni Riefenstahl
around as they had said they would. Henny insisted we watched as
her husband Baldur stood next to Hitler when he delivered his key
speeches. The atmosphere was electric. Hitler could get thousands of
people cheering and promising him their unfailing support, which
thousands did, even unto death.
Before the last day of the Rally, Hoffmann told us over breakfast
that Eva had been taken ill and had returned to Munich.
‘That is strange,’ said Helene and Henny together, ‘She seemed fine
when we saw her last night.’
‘She is not ill,’ said Hoffmann, throwing in some intrigue as always,
‘Have you not noticed that Hitler has been ignoring Eva recently?
And I mean even more than usual. That Mitford girl follows him
around closer than Keppler and I follow Leni,’ he added wryly.
‘If that were possible,’ Henny joked, and we laughed at her father’s
expense.
The death of Edwin Bechstein marred the next few weeks. He had
been under medical care at his villa in Berlin for some time, but in
the second week of September, his condition suddenly worsened.
We all rushed to Berlin to comfort his wife, our dear friend Helene
B.
He passed away aged seventy-four on the fifteenth of that month.
We stayed in Berlin to support Helene B and to attend the funeral.
As soon as we were back in Munich, Eva called and wanted to see
us that evening. She came round, and we gorged on Munich’s best
wurst. I told Eva I could never have too much of Bavaria’s finest,
but she was not in the mood for cheerfulness.
She came close to tears as she blurted out, ‘Helene, my darling
Adolf is ignoring me. He is seen constantly with that English
strumpet Mitford. She is known as the Valkyrie and looks the part,
including her legs. Have you seen her legs? I am the mistress of the
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greatest man in Germany and the whole world, yet I sit alone in my
apartment waiting while the sun mocks me through the
windowpanes.’
Most eloquent, I thought as Helene went across and held her as she
broke down sobbing. We comforted her as much as we could, and
after a lot more Moet, she cheered up a little.
‘Don’t worry, Eva, it is you that he loves; I see it in his eyes,’
Helene assured Eva as she left Café Gentz. She went to return to that
lonely apartment. Her driver Maurice opened her car door for her as
she walked down the pathway to her limousine.
As if the tragic death of Edwin Bechstein was not enough in one
month, Helene and I were having a quiet dinner on the 26th when we
received an urgent call from Maurice. He said to come over to
Hitler’s apartment immediately. ‘It is a matter of life and death.’
We knew Hitler was away in Berlin until the next day, so we raced
over and were confronted with a group of untidily parked cars in the
courtyard. I recognised one as that of Dr Theodor Morell, Hitler’s
physician. I knew Dr Morell because he had successfully treated
Hoffmann, who had recommended him to the Fuhrer.
We rushed upstairs to find Eva lying unconscious on the bed. She
had an intravenous drip inserted into her arm and was given oxygen
by Dr Morell.
Her sister Gretl pulled us aside, ‘I found her unconscious on the
floor,’ she said, ‘I called Dr Morell, and then I called Adolf in
Berlin. He is on his way here now.’
‘What happened?’ asked Helene.
‘The doctor said he found an empty bottle of Phanodorm pills
prescribed for Eva as sleeping tablets.’ ‘Very shaken by the whole
thing,’ Gretl told us, ‘the doctor’s opinion is that she will recover, no
doubt. It was lucky I found her in time, and Dr Morell could come
so quickly.’
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Gretl signalled to us to come into the kitchen. She closed the door
and said, ‘What shall we do? Eva called me this afternoon, sobbing
uncontrollably. Hitler ignored her for this Mitford girl and would
she would end it all. She could not live without her Fuhrer. I thought
I had calmed her down. Luckily I came home early from shopping
and found her like this.’
Helene told Gretl to take a seat and asked that I make some tea.
Helene returned to the bedroom to speak to Dr Morell.
When she returned, Gretl and I were nursing cups of the hot sweet
brew. ‘Thanks,’ she said as she sipped the cup I had ready and
waiting for her.
‘This is the situation,’ Helene said as she took charge. She continued
in her usual calm and forthright manner. ‘Eva will live. Dr Morell
said she had taken what remained of the whole bottle, but as she had
been taking one a night for the last week, there were not enough
remaining to be fatal.’ ‘She told me she would end it all, but I didn’t
think she meant it,’ burst out Gretl.
‘Now listen carefully,’ said Helene, ‘I believe this was Eva’s way of
giving Hitler a shock, to make him realise that he was giving too
much attention to that Mitford girl. However, I do not think Hitler
nor Goebbels would appreciate the negative publicity that a suicide
attempt would generate. Let us treat this as an unfortunate accidental
overdose. Agreed?’
We all agreed, and Helene relayed those instructions to Dr Morell
and Maurice.
Dr Morell said he would stay at Eva’s bedside all night and explain
the situation to Hitler when he arrived. We went home as there was
nothing more Helene nor I could do. Later, Maurice telephoned to
say Hitler had arrived and Eva was stable.
The next morning, we looked back in the cold light of day and
assessed the situation. Helene said Eva had taken the ultimate
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gamble. If he were in love with her, he would respond accordingly.
‘What a gamble,’ I said, ‘we can only wait and see what happens.’
Over the following weeks, Eva’s strategy paid off. Hitler stopped
being seen with Unity Mitford and rented a new apartment for Eva
and her sister, freshly refurbished and decorated, with specially
commissioned monogrammed bedlinen and a full-time maid.
Maurice told me he had filled the wine cabinet with Moet and
arranged for weekly deliveries of Ukrainian bacon, Eva’s favourite.
The next time Helene and I discussed the matter was one evening
later that week with Henny and Baldur.
‘Well, she pulled it off,’ said Henny, ‘She has regained her place as
First Lady.’
‘Yes,’ I said, ‘but do not underestimate Unity Mitford. I have had a
few conversations with her; she will not let go of Hitler that easily.
She will only learn from this that desperate measures are needed to
capture the Fuhrer’s attention. Mark my words; we have not seen
nor heard the last from Miss Unity Valkyrie Mitford.’
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Adam Bayne
Chapter 27 Gold watches for Christmas from Hitler
Hitler was in Berlin. Eva moved into her new apartment and invited
the Silver Pheasants for a housewarming party. It was ladies-only,
and I was not asked. I loaned Helene the Red Dragon and went in
the Alfa to Osteria Bavaria for my favourite sausage supper.
As I opened the restaurant door, I wished I had stayed home at Café
Gentz or stopped off at Zum Duerbrau, my second favourite
restaurant, but it was too late. When I set foot in the restaurant, the
petite blond sitting alone at the front rushed over to me. She grabbed
my arm and dragged me to her table, pressing herself against me just
a little too close for comfort.
‘Sit down with me, please, Adam,’ she said.
I could not refuse, and the waiter brought over a fresh bottle of
Champagne as soon as we were seated.
‘Adam,’ Unity Mitford said, ‘it is wonderful to see you. I was at the
rally, but it was so busy I expect you did not have time to talk.’
‘Yes, it was hectic this year,’ I replied, keeping to myself that I had
studiously avoided her.
She pulled her chair around the table and leaned closer to me, ‘I
heard about Eva’s dreadful accident; I do hope she will be alright. I
was going to visit her, but I do not know where she lives.’ Bullet
dodged, I thought. She continued, ‘Anyway, enough about Eva,
what about you.’
I groaned inwardly but said, ‘Yes, it has been so frantic in the office
since von Papen resigned and Hindenburg died. With Hitler
becoming the supreme leader, I have not found the time to do much
socialising.’
‘Yes, and his brilliant coup to remove the Communist-infiltrated SA
and that traitor Roehm. After everything Hitler had done for him, he
chose to become a threat to my dear Fuhrer’s destiny as leader of the
world.’ I was impressed at her knowledge of the party’s inner
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workings and wondered who was providing the information.
I ordered my sausage supper and Unity ordered a salad. I tried to eat
as fast as I could, and Unity followed my lead by drinking the
Champagne as fast as she could. She looked up from her salad, and
her blue eyes lit up. ‘Dead men are not a threat. My Fuhrer certainly
made sure Roehm would never betray him again.,’ she said with a
demur smile.
‘I am sorry to rush,’ I said, ‘but I have to prepare a report for Hitler
tomorrow, so please excuse me.’ I called for the bill.
When the waiter was out of sight, she came on strong. She leaned
right up to me, entirely inside my comfort zone. ‘Adam,’ she said in
her best seductive voice, ‘why don’t we go back to your apartment
for a few more drinks?’ I tried to hold back the panic as I gathered
my thoughts. ‘I wish I could Unity, but Helene will be there waiting
for me,’ I lied.
Unity performed the sudden about-face that I had seen her do
before. ‘Such a pity, Adam,’ she said with a sweet innocent smile,
‘there will always be the next time,’ and looked as if nothing had
happened.
She refilled her Champagne glass, looked up as I got up to leave and
said ominously, ‘have a safe drive home and see you soon.’
I opened the roof on the Alfa and drove home with the chilly air
blowing on my face trying to regain my composure. She is a
dangerous young lady, that one. She will stop at nothing to get her
way. ‘And I do mean stop at nothing,’ I said aloud as I parked the
Alfa and closed the roof.
I poured myself a stiff gin and tonic and settled down to await
Helene’s return. I had dozed off on the sofa when I heard her and
Magda giggling outside before they entered.
‘What a great apartment Hitler has given Eva,’ Magda said, ‘have
you had a nice evening Adam?’
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Adam Bayne
I surprised them both with my answer. ‘Nice is not a description I
would use.’
The two ladies sat down. ‘OK, spill the beans,’ said Helene. And I
did.
After I told them my story of being propositioned by Unity in the
restaurant, Helene smiled. Magda said, ‘The witch is using her
womanly charms to seduce Hitler. We must be careful of her,
Adam.’
‘Oh dear, another witch to be careful of,’ I thought.
Helene said that as Goebbels was in Berlin and the children were
with the nanny, Magda would stay the night. I went to bed, leaving
Witch Number One and my Princess to chat about Witch Number
Two into the early hours.
The next day in the office, Christa handed me our formal invitation
to the Putsch anniversary dinner at the Burgerbraukeller that
Bormann had organised. Everyone was invited, and it would be
fantastic for the Alterkampfers to be back where it all started.
I came home and showed Helene the invite. I was glad she was
coming too and told her I was scared to go there alone anymore. She
had not prepared dinner and wanted to have trout at the Osteria
Bavaria. I cringed. She laughed, saying, ‘you are not scared of that
little thing, are you?’
We drove to Osteria Bavaria, and I looked around as soon as we
entered the restaurant. Luckily, the Mitford Witch, as I now called
her, was nowhere to be seen. We had a pleasant dinner and
reminisced about the night of the Putsch. It was only eleven years
ago and had been a critical moment in the life of the Fuhrer. I told
Helene again about my escape with Carin.
‘And don’t forget turning up on that silly motorbike with young
Hans Frank,’ said Helene. ‘That was not a silly motorbike,’ I replied
solemnly, ‘It was a Megola.’ ‘Oh yes, I forgot,’ said Hellene
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facetiously, trying to suppress a laugh, ‘it was a migula.’ ‘A Meg-o-
la,’ I said with emphasis, but she pretended not to hear.
She took a sip of her Champagne, and a serious look came over her
face. ‘Adam, there will be a lot of empty spaces and some ghosts at
the Burgerbraukeller, especially after the recent purge of the SA,’
she stated, ‘I have said it before, but we need to be careful. What we
are doing is perilous, and we must never let down our guard. Nazi
Germany is now a police state with no recourse to the law. The best
we could hope for is that our American and British passports could
save us from ending up on one of Magda’s new and improved head-
removing machines.’
I decided to have the trout with Helene and ordered a bottle of
Gewurztraminer to accompany the fish. Both were delicious, and we
drove home and went to bed in a happy but pensive mood.
The party at the beerhall the following week was a fun event, with
the servers carrying those vast steins full of beer six at a time. The
ladies from the office and the Silver Pheasants ended up on benches
along one seriously long table, upon which a man in lederhosen
jumped and was cracking an extended whip. We were soon all
dancing and singing. This genuine Bavarian culture at its best left
Helene and me bemused most of the time.
Hitler stood on a table and made a speech. The gist was that 1934
had been the second defining time after the Putsch eleven years ago.
We were on the road to making Germany the greatest nation on
Earth. German industrial output was now second only to America,
and the German people will no longer be subservient to the old
colonial countries of Europe. Hitler then proposed a toast to the
Alterkampfers and the fourteen heroes who gave their lives for the
Nazi party on that day back in 1923.
‘To the martyrs of the Putsch,’ and we all raised our glasses with the
Fuhrer. The party went on late into the night and became even more
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Adam Bayne
boisterous after Hitler and Eva left around eleven.
No sooner was November over than Goering invited his close
colleagues to a Christmas dinner at Osteria Bavaria. The week
before, at Café Gentz, Heinrich and Erna Hoffmann told us they
were flying to Bremen with Hitler the day before Goering’s party,
and they hoped they would make it back in time. Of course, they
were not late. They returned to Augsberg airport at noon in plenty of
time to meet us at the restaurant for the party.
In his usual flamboyant way, Bormann had booked the whole place
and arranged a special menu. He stood up and announced that the
chef had prepared two main dishes. ‘There will be a pork roast for
the Bavarians,’ he said, which brought a chuckle from the
Bavarians, ‘But there will be a roast goose for us Prussians.’
We all applauded as the chef headed the servers’ procession and
carved the meat.
We sat at a table with Hoffmann and his wife. Erna told us about
their trip to Bremen. She was a country girl and had never been in an
aeroplane. ‘I spoke to the pilot,’ she said, ‘and he told me his plane
was a modified Junkers 52, and it is called von Richthofen. Can you
imagine that?’ the inside is outfitted with lovely comfortable leather
chairs, and they served sparkling water and snacks as we flew along
at two hundred and nine kph at the incredible height of nine hundred
and ten metres above the earth.
Erna took a breath and continued, ‘then after Hitler had finished his
meetings with the Mayor and the other top state officials, he took us
to the Ratskeller.’
‘The what?’ I said abruptly, ‘a rat cellar?’
‘No, silly,’ said Erna, ‘the Ratskeller in Bremen is the oldest wine
cellar in Germany, founded in 1405. It has over six hundred types of
wine, and four hundred other drink types are available.’
‘You should have been at home there,’ I said to Hoffmann. ‘I was,’
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he replied, not getting my sarcasm.
Sweet Erna, I think she was one of the few Germans who did not
know what was happening in Germany during the war. Helene
smiled and said, ‘Erna, you should get a job with the Bremen
council as a tourist guide.’ ‘Or the Luftwaffe as a mechanic,’
chipped in Hoffmann, and we all laughed.
Our laughter was interrupted when Hitler stood up, and Bormann
tapped his glass with a spoon.
‘Christmas is upon us, and I would like to thank you all personally
for your loyalty and support. But firstly, Eva, please come up here.’
As Eva walked up and stood next to Hitler, the waiter brought out a
trolley loaded with boxes colourfully wrapped in seasonal paper.
The top box was wrapped with a gold ribbon; Hitler took it and
presented it to the blushing Eva.
‘Can I open it, my Fuhrer?’ she asked quietly, and he nodded. We
all sat in silence as she opened the box.
She beamed with delight as she took out and showed us all a
diamond-encrusted rose gold Lange & Soehne wristwatch.
Eva walked from table to table, showing everyone the wristwatch.
I tapped Helene’s arm and whispered to her to look at the entrance
door. It had a glass panel to see who was outside on the pavement.
‘Oh my god,’ she said under her breath. Standing there looking in
was Unity Mitford, ‘I hope she is not stupid enough to come in,
Adam,’ Helene continued in a whisper.
Suddenly Eva was at our table to show us the gold watch. ‘That is
truly magnificent,’ said Helene when Eva handed it to Helene to
hold.
When I looked up again, the Mitford Witch had disappeared.
Bormann called the room to order once more, ‘Mr and Mrs
Goebbels, please step forward,’ Hitler said formally.
He took a pair of boxes off the trolley and presented them to the
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Adam Bayne
Goebbels. ‘As you all know, Magda had her third child this year, so
they have a special gift,’ he announced.
Magda’s eyes filled as she opened the boxes and saw a pair of
matching platinum Lange wristwatches.
‘My Fuhrer,’ she said, ‘Joseph and I will give you seven or more
fine Aryan children to become citizens of the thousand-year Third
Reich.’
‘Heil Hitler,’ said Magda, and we all stood and saluted.
Hitler then personally delivered the remaining boxes, table by table.
There was a beautiful Lange wristwatch for everyone. I still wear
mine every day.
It was a wonderful evening. I looked around at the smiling faces as
they ate and drank with friends and could see no hint of the evils
that were to come. Even the Number One Witch, Magda, looked
harmless.
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Chapter 28 Dr Ferdinand Porsche, Hitler’s Volkswagen and a
cowboy book
During 1935 finance continued to roll in for the Nazi party from
America and Britain. Industrial production and the entire German
economy proliferated. Informal meetings with Fritz Thyssen and his
colleagues at hotel bars in Berlin left no doubt in my mind that
Germany was preparing for war.
In January, Hitler invited me to join him at a meeting with Jakob
Werlin, a senior executive at Mercedes-Benz. He had with him their
consultant engineer Dr Ferdinand Porsche. We flew the two hundred
kilometres to Stuttgart in Hitler’s plane. I remembered what Erna
Hoffmann had said about the Junkers. It was true; the aircraft was
very comfortable. Hitler flew much more frequently nowadays
because he understood the value of face-to-face meetings and
personal speeches.
On the way, Hitler briefed me on his plan to build a network of
Autobahns across Germany to provide easy motor vehicle access for
everyone to travel everywhere. He had already given Dr Porsche the
design parameters for his Volkswagen, or People’s Car. It would
allow every German family to own an automobile to drive on the
autobahns.
Hitler continued, ‘Better than railways, which are impersonal, the
autobahn will bring people together. Already the autobahn has
caused the inner frontiers of Germany to disappear, so we shall
abolish the frontiers of all countries of Europe.’
He smiled and said, ‘Werlin almost nearly peed his pants when I
told him the Volkswagen must have a retail selling price of one
thousand Reichsmarks or less,’ he continued to laugh as he said,
‘let’s see what they have come up with.’
At the factory, they showed us the vehicle prototype, which
everyone now knows as the Beetle. Werlin said it was code-named
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Adam Bayne
the KdF-Wagen, from Kraft Durch Freude (Strength through Joy),
but Hitler insisted on calling it by the name he had coined himself,
the Volkswagen.
Dr Porsche took us for a ride in the prototype, and I was surprised
by the snappy performance of the rear-mounted engine and how
roomy it was. Hitler said, ‘I told them the engine must be air-cooled
to make it cheaper to maintain,’ as we got out, and added, ‘KdF-
Wagen, humbug, it is the Volkswagen.’
Whatever else Hitler did, he made Germany into a country of which
Germans could once more be proud. He removed the shame that the
victors of the First World War had imposed on the German people.
As Hitler often reminded me, they did it in pure spite, and first
among the spiteful was France.
He said he would be at the opening of the Berlin Motor Show on the
14th of February and looked forward to the Volkswagen taking pride
of place.
On the return journey, he told me of his delight in how Dr Porsche
was working. As he knew I enjoyed automobiles, he suggested I
take Helene and Eva to the Berlin motor show. I agreed, of course.
Hoffmann told me that he would be at the opening of the Motor
Show to take photographs of the Fuhrer. When I suggested I take
Hoffmann’s wife Erna with Eva and myself, he said she would love
it. When I told Helene where we were going, the party had expanded
to include Magda and Hermann Goering’s new fiance Emma.
So, on the second day of the Berlin motor show, I introduced my
bevvy of Silver Pheasants to my new executive friends at Mercedes-
Benz. They responded by giving us complete VIP treatment. Magda
whispered to country girl Erna that she could eat all the snacks she
wanted and that she did not have to curtsy to everyone in the
Mercedes-Benz hospitably lounge.
Helene told me to close my mouth and stop drooling at the Maybach
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Zeppelin DS8 stand as we walked around the show. ‘But it’s got
twelve cylinders and over two hundred horsepower,’ I said. My
Silver Pheasants giggled. Magda said, ‘boys will be boys.’ I caught
the Maybach salesman rolling his eyes as I glanced his way. ‘Let’s
get something to eat,’ I suggested, and we left the magnificent
Maybach.
It was an excellent opportunity to meet Emma, who would soon be
married to Goering and become a full member of the Pheasanthood.
Magda announced that she was once again with child.
So far, the year 1935 appeared to have been one long party. In April,
Goering married opera singer Emma Sonnemann. They wedded in
Berlin Cathedral with great pomp and ceremony. Goebbels did a
magnificent job of publicity; the event was an international news
item. British Pathe, the news broadcaster, made a newsreel film
shown in cinemas worldwide. Entitled ‘Hitler Best Man,’ it had the
air of a state occasion. It announced to the world that Hitler and the
Nazi party were here to stay.
The celebrity reception was at Carinhall, Goering’s country
residence in the Schorfheide Forest. Carinhall was a stunning
hunting lodge on hundreds of acres between the Grossdoellnersee
and the Wuckersee lakes. The Silver Pheasants turned up in their
finest livery. It was a spectacular event in a stunning setting, and we
did have a wonderful time.
Hitler and his Nazi party were firmly established as the legitimate
German government and accepted by the international community.
The next few years would be the calm before the storm as Hitler
worked continually to build up his army, navy, and air force. The
world looked on in blissful ignorance, despite my XC report
warnings and Mr Churchill’s outbursts in the British parliament.
The next event on our busy calendar was Hitler’s birthday which
seemed to come around quicker each year. Helene called a project
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Adam Bayne
meeting at Café Gentz.
‘What can we get the Fuhrer for his birthday? How can we respond
to the watches he gave us all at Christmas?’ asked Eva.
Hoffmann said he had an idea. He said, ‘I don’t suppose you know
that Hitler loves reading Cowboy and Indian novels.’ Eva replied,
‘yes, he has a collection of Karl May books in his study.’ It was the
most surprising suggestion of a gift for Hitler I had ever heard.
We all looked puzzled; none had ever heard of Karl May.
Hoffmann went on, ‘Karl May is the prolific German writer of so-
called Cowboy novels about life in the American West in the 1870s
and 1880s. You know, Buffalo Bill and Jesse James and all that.’
Helene, the American, said she was well aware of the genre but had
no idea it was so popular in Germany. I was intrigued because this
was not what I had expected the Fuhrer to be reading on quiet
evenings.
Hoffmann continued, ‘Well, my search for fine art is not limited to
paintings. I have a signed first edition of Karl May’s most famous
1893 book about the Apache Indian Princess Winnetou.’ He held it
up proudly.
Eva reached across and grabbed it, ‘Oh, he will love this,’ she said
excitedly, ‘I will get it wrapped beautifully and tied with a gold
ribbon.’ The rest of us looked on with bemused faces. ‘There is no
accounting for taste,’ Helene said quietly.
My suggestion that we try a new venue for the birthday party this
year was met with derision, ‘Impossible, Hitler loves Osteria
Bavaria,’ said Eva.
Hitler’s forty-fifth birthday party went well, as usual. Ever since that
day, I have been haunted by the vision of the man responsible for
the deaths of millions sitting at home reading a trashy Karl May
Cowboy and Indian novel. Despite my doubts about the Cowboy
book Hitler was overjoyed with the gift.
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At the restaurant, Helene sensed my anxiety and told me to relax and
not keep looking at the front door. ‘Stop worrying; she will not
come tonight,’ Helene said, ‘she will be biding her time.’
Unity, the Number Two Witch, was indeed biding her time. But she
was not just sitting and watching. Maurice had already told me (in
absolute secrecy) that he believed Hitler was visiting Unity covertly
at her Munich apartment. I dared not tell anyone, not even Helene.
As the year progressed, Himmler’s fascination with the occult grew.
In July, he officially announced the formation of the Ahnenerbe
branch of the SS with headquarters at Wewelsburg Castle, which
was undergoing the renovation programme proposed by Eva.
She had requested a visit to see the redesign and refurbishment work
progress. As the castle was five hundred and fifty kilometres from
Munich, Bormann had made arrangements for us to go in Hitler’s
Junkers and take a bus from the airport to the castle. Rudolf Hess
had heard about the Spear of Destiny from Eva via his wife Ilse and
insisted he come with us.
Eva and Goering’s new wife Emma were concerned because Magda
was nearly six months pregnant by this time, but a quick check-up
by Dr Morell said she was fit to fly. ‘That’s great,’ she said, ‘I was
not going miss the show.’ Dr Morell knew it was best to do what
Magda wanted rather than risk her wrath.
The weather was not the best, and the flight was turbulent. Magda
had brought her maid and two children, Helga and Hildegard, both
under two years old. I was unsure who vomited the most, the maid
or the kids. The visibly pregnant Magda was fine all the way.
Eva did not want the castle’s exterior to be changed, but the interior
work was terrific. A special high-domed room had been made for
the Spear, which was displayed on a central table decorated to look
like an altar. The walls and the dome had been decorated with
mystic paintings and symbols by artisans commandeered from
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