Hitler Is Alive! Page 10

  Yet Eva’s writings for those days show that she was not conscious of what was happening.

  FEBRUARY 6, 1935 — I guess today is the right day to begin this masterpiece.

  I have happily reached my twenty-third year … whether I am happy is another question. At the moment I am certainly not happy. That is because I have such high expectations for such an “important” day.

  If I only had a dog, then I wouldn’t be quite so alone; but I guess that is asking too much.

  Mrs. Schauk came with flowers and a telegram as “ambassador.”

  My whole office looks like a flower shop and smells like a mortuary. I am really ungrateful, but I hoped so much to get a little dachshund, and now again nothing. Perhaps next year or even after that; when it will be better suited for an incipient spinster.

  Let me not give up hope. I should have learned patience by now.

  I bought two lottery tickets today …

  It seems as though I’ll never get rich. Can’t do anything about that. Today I would have gone to the Zugspitze (Germany’s highest mountain, on the Austrian border) with Herta, Gretl, Ilse and mother and we would have lived like kings, because one always has the most fun when others share the happiness.

  But the trip didn’t come off.

  Today I’m going to eat with Herta. What else may a simple little woman of twenty-three do? Thus, I’ll bring my birthday to a close with gluttony. I believe I shall have acted in accordance with his (Hitler’s) wishes.

  FEBRUARY 11, 1935 — He (Hitler) was just here, but no dog and no presents. He didn’t even ask me whether I had a birthday wish. Somehow I bought myself some jewelry. A necklace, earrings and a ring to match for fifty marks (about $20). Everything very pretty. I hope he likes it. If not, he may buy me something himself.

  FEBRUARY 15, 1935 — It seems that the Berlin deal is really going to come off. This I won’t believe until I am in the Reichschancellery.

  [Hitler was arranging an apartment for her in the Reichschancellery in Berlin].

  It is really too bad that Herta can’t come along instead of Charlie (Charlotta, one of the girl friends of SS men in Munich). She would be a guarantee for a few happy days. This way there will probably be a big ado because I don’t think that Bruckner (an aide in Berlin), for a change, will show his more charming side when he meets Charlie. I don’t dare look forward to it yet, but it might turn out to be wonderful if everything goes well. Let’s hope so.

  FEBRUARY 18, 1935 — Yesterday, he (Hitler) came quite unexpectedly and it was a delightful evening.

  The nicest thing was that he is thinking about taking me out of the firm and—I don’t want to be too happy yet—to buy me a little house. I don’t dare think of it. It would be so wonderful. I wouldn’t have to open the door for our “honorable” customers and play salesgirl. Dear God, please make it come true within a reasonable period of time.

  Poor Charlie is sick and can’t come to Berlin with us. She’s really unlucky, but maybe it is better that way. Maybe he would be very rude to her and then she would certainly be even more unhappy. I am so infinitely happy because he loves me so and pray that it will always be like this. I should never want to be to blame if once he should stop loving me.

  MARCH 4, 1935 — [Three days after the German army marched into the Saar].

  I am mortally unhappy. Since I can’t write him, this diary must serve to relieve my pain.

  He came Saturday for the big Munich ball. Mrs. Schwarz had given me a loge ticket for it and so I was obliged to attend at all costs, especially since I had already accepted.

  I spent a few wonderful hours with him until 12 o’clock and then went to the ball with his permission.

  He promised that I could see him on Sunday. In spite of the fact that I called up and sent a message that I am waiting for him, he drove off to Feldafing (suburb of Munich). He even refused Hoffmann’s invitation to tea and supper. One may look at everything from two sides; perhaps he wanted to be alone with Dr. Goebbels who was also here, but he could have let me know. I was at Hoffmann’s on pins and needles, thinking all the time that he might come any minute.

  We went to the train later, because he had decided to leave, but only arrived in time to see the rear lights. We (Hoffmann and the others) had again left for the train too late, and thus I couldn’t even say goodbye. Probably I’m too pessimistic again, I hope, but he hasn’t been here for fourteen days, and I am so unhappy and have no peace of mind. Incidentally, I don’t know why he should be angry with me—perhaps because I went to the ball—but then he gave me his permission.

  I am uselessly wracking my brain as to why he should be driving away without saying goodbye.

  Hoffmann gave me a ticket for tonight’s performance of “Venetian Nights,” but I won’t go. I am much too unhappy.

  MARCH 11, 1935 — [For many days, the Germans have been fighting off British attempts at a general settlement of the European armament and territorial problems. Hitler has refused to see Sir John Simon, the British Foreign Minister, who has gone to Berlin for the talks].

  I only wish that I were seriously ill and would hear nothing of him for eight days. Why doesn’t something happen to me? Why do I suffer like this? I wish I had never seen him. I am desperate. I am now going to buy more sleeping tablets, at least then I’ll be half-dazed and won’t think about him so much.

  Why doesn’t the devil come and get me. I’m sure it’s nicer there than here.

  For three hours I stood outside the Carlton (a prominent Munich hotel) and had to watch while he brought flowers for Ondra (Annie Ondra, friend of Hitler) and invited her for supper. (Marginal note, written March 26: Just my crazy imagination) He is only using me for very definite purposes. (Marginal note, written March 26: Baloney, probably I am, too). When he says he loves me, he takes it about as seriously as his promises which he never keeps. Why does he torture me so much instead of just putting an end to the whole thing?

  MARCH 16, 1935 — [This is the day Hitler wiped out the military provisions of the Versailles Treaty, restored German universal military service, and established an army of 36 divisions. This was the crowning blow to the Allies who fought and won World War I, and wrote the peace. On this day, it was all lost].

  He went to Berlin again. If only I didn’t “go off the beam” whenever I see him less than usual. Actually, it’s quite natural that he shows no great interest in me at present, since there is so much going on politically (Eva’s first recognition that anything else was going on in the world outside her boudoir.)

  I am going to take a trip to the Zugspitze with Gertl today; then maybe my remorse will subside. Everything has always turned out alright so far, and it will be the same this time. One must have patience, that’s all.

  APRIL 1, 1935 — Yesterday, we were invited by him for supper at the Four Seasons (a Munich hotel famous for good food). I had to sit next to him for three hours and couldn’t say a word to him. When leaving, he handed me an envelope containing money, as he had done once before. If only he had at least added a greeting or a kind word, I would have been so happy, but he never thinks of anything like that.

  Why doesn’t he go to Hoffmann’s to eat? There, at least, I would have him to myself for a few minutes. I only wish he wouldn’t come any more until his home is ready (the Eagle’s Nest, in near-by ­Berchtesgaden).

  APRIL 29, 1935 — [Nazi party persecution of the Jews has already begun to take effect, and many of them are leaving the country].

  Things are very tough. I keep humming to myself “Things will improve,” but it doesn’t help much. The house is ready, but I can’t go to visit him; love does not seem to be on his program at present. Now that he is back in Berlin, I feel a little better; but there were days during the last week when I did my share of crying at night, especially since I spent Easter at home by myself. I’m getting on everybody’s nerves because I want to sell everything from my clothes to my cameras, and even theater tickets. Oh, well … things will improve. After all
, my debts are not that big.

  MAY 10, 1935 — [During these days, Hitler was constantly shouting to the world that he wanted peace; but within Germany, his troops were preparing for war].

  According to Mrs. Hoffmann’s kind and also tactless remarks, he (Hitler) now has a substitute for me. Her name is Walkure (which literally translated means Valkyrie, one of the mythical maidens who hover over the battlefield, choosing those to be slain), and she looks it, including her legs. But those are the shapes that appeal to him. If that is true, he will soon have annoyed her till she gets slim, unless she has Charlie’s talent for thriving on worries. Worry alone seems to increase her appetite.

  If Mrs. H’s observations should turn out to be true, it is mean of him (Hitler) not to tell me. After all, he should know me well enough to realize that I would never stand in his way, if he should discover another romantic interest. Why should he worry about what happens to me? I’ll wait till the third of June … I’ll ask him for an explanation by mail. Now tell me again that I’m not modest.

  The weather is gorgeous, and I, the mistress of Germany’s and the world’s greatest man, have to sit at home and look at it through the window. He has so little understanding and still makes me appear distant when his friends are around. Well, one makes one’s own bed … I guess it really is my fault, but it is just one of those things for which one likes to blame someone else. This period of fasting won’t last forever, and then it will taste much better. Too bad, though, that it just happens to be spring.

  MAY 28, 1935 — I have just sent him a letter, one that is decisive, for me. Will he consider it as important as I do? Well, we’ll see. If I don’t get an answer by tonight, I’ll take my 25 pills and lie down peacefully. Is it a sign of the terrific love of which he assures me, that he hasn’t spoken a kind word to me for three months? Agreed that he’s been busy with political problems, but have not things eased off?

  [Hitler had, a week before, made a “peace” speech in the Reichstag, during which he professed Germany’s integrity and readiness to sign non-aggression agreements].

  And how about last year when he had lots of worries with Rohm (Ernst Rohm, Brown Shirt leader who was executed in a purge in 1934; a plot against Hitler’s life had been discovered) and with Italy, and he still found time for me? True, I’m not in a position to judge whether the present situation isn’t much worse, but after all a few kind words to Mrs. Hoffmann would hardly have taken much time. I fear there is some other reason. It’s not my fault; certainly not. Maybe it’s another woman, although I doubt that it’s Walkure. What other reason could there be? I can’t find any.

  P.S. My God, I’m afraid I will not get an answer today. If only someone would help me; everything is so hopeless. Maybe my letter reached him at an inopportune time, or maybe I shouldn’t have written at all. Whichever it is, the uncertainty is much worse than even a sudden end would be. Dear God, please make it possible that I speak to him today; tomorrow will be too late. I have decided on 35 pills to make death certain this time. If he would at least have someone call up for him. [Eva’s depression passed; she didn’t take the pills.]

  WHY HITLER KILLED HIS BEST FRIEND … HIS DOG

  by SANFORD MERKIN

  He was responsible for the murder of millions of human beings, but Der Fuehrer wanted his dog destroyed without pain

  It was a cold, rainy spring morning in Berlin, and the rumble of Russian cannon rolled steadily over the bunker where Hitler sat planning the execution of the only real friend he had in the world.

  That world had disintegrated around him rapidly within the past few weeks. The Allies were closing in from the West, and from the East the dreaded Reds were pressing closer and closer to the heart of Berlin. The mighty Third Reich was collapsing, and with it the dream of Der Fuehrer’s empire.

  He had retreated to the bomb-proof bunker to plot his escape. As she sat there, his friend crawled closer to him, almost as if she were trying to protect the master she loved.

  Her name was Blondi and she had no way of knowing that Hitler was at that moment plotting her death. He was speaking with Dr. Haase, his personal physician, but she couldn’t understand the conversation—for she was a dog.

  Blondi had been with Hitler seven years, devoted and true, while around him his generals and Eva Braun, his mistress, cheated on him, lied to him, even tried to kill him.

  Gift from Goebbels

  Blondi was given to Hitler in 1938 by the wife of the Nazi propaganda minister, Joseph Goebbels. Der Fuehrer had been to the Goebbels’ home one evening, and Mrs. Goebbels showed him a litter just born to one of their Alsatian dogs. Hitler watched the puppies frolic, admired them and asked Frau Goebbels for a blonde female that displayed particular intelligence and friendliness.

  From that moment Blondi became a part of his inner circle. She grew up in his apartment in the Chancellery, went with him to Berchtesgaden, was always at his side in conferences and on trips around the Reich.

  The Alsatian, better known in this country as the German Shepherd, is one of the most loyal breeds in the world. Such movies as the Rin-Tin-Tin series and others have long illustrated its courage, its willingness to die for its master.

  Blondi grew to 65 pounds, and her thick coat was yellow enough to make her the perfect “Nordic” type that Hitler loved. Veterinarians checked her health periodically, prescribed the right foods. Blondi had her own room or slept in the same room with Hitler wherever they went.

  Dr. von Hasselbach, one of Hitler’s personal doctors, said that during the last critical years of the war, Der Fuehrer told him:

  “My officers and my general staff are a bunch of traitors. They are responsible for Germany’s defeat. The only ones I can trust are Eva Braun and Blondi. They’ll remain faithful to me to the end.”

  Eva Cheated on Him

  But what Hitler didn’t know was that only the big yellow dog with the trusting eyes was true. Eva for years had been playing around with boyfriends both in the apartment Hitler rented for her in Berlin and at Berchtesgaden when the Nazi ruler was away.

  So on the morning of April 30, 1945, Hitler took Blondi to the bunker along with Dr. Haase. As he sat stroking the dog’s head, Hitler said:

  “I want Blondi destroyed.”

  Haase nodded. “I’ll have one of the S.S. men shoot her immediately.”

  Hitler and the only friend he trusted—his faithful German Shepherd dog, Blondi.

  “Nein! Nein!” Hitler screamed, clasping Blondi’s head to his breast. “I don’t want her hurt. Give her some poison that will kill her without pain. I don’t want my dog to suffer.”

  Dr. Haase may have reflected that this was the man who had ordered the cold-blooded extermination of five million Jews, and had sent countless other millions to their death.

  “Yes, Mein Fuehrer,” he replied obediently.

  After Hitler had fondled Blondi and given her a final embrace, Dr. Haase led her away. He mixed a poison with her food and in an hour she died peacefully.

  The Russians were within a mile of the bunker, and the roar of their angry guns lit up the Berlin sky as Blondi was buried in the courtyard of the Reich Chancellery.

  A few hours later Hitler and Eva Braun slipped quietly out of the bunker to make their escape. But the slumped, beaten figure of a man who once dreamed of ruling the world paused for a moment at the little mound of earth that was Blondi’s last resting place.

  “Goodbye, my faithful friend,” Hitler muttered.

  HITLER’S MISTRESS RISKED DEATH TO CHEAT ON DER FUEHRER

  Adolf’s Housekeeper Tells How

  Adolf Hitler could dominate his Prussian generals, scare the wits out of his Storm Trooper bully boys and plunge the world into war—but he couldn’t control his girlfriend, Eva Braun.

  And he spent more than $1,000,000 bedecking her with jewels and finery, yet every time Der Fuehrer went off to work, little Eva kicked over the traces and made merry with her younger and more handsome boyfriends.

 
; She risked death by cheating on one of the most powerful and ruthless men the world has ever known, but like many another Joe, Hitler never suspected. Fact is, he married the shapely blonde.

  This astonishing story of Eva’s unfaithfulness comes right from the hitherto secret files of Allied Military Intelligence and from Anni Winter, Hitler’s housekeeper for more than 20 years.

  When Frau Winter was interviewed by Intelligence officers right after the collapse of the Third Reich, she painted a different picture of the shy, retiring blonde who in Hitler’s presence dressed severely and simply, didn’t smoke or drink, and kept a serious, semi-refined appearance at all times.

  But when Adolf hurried away from their Munich apartment, la belle Braun phoned her boyfriends, slipped into a skin-tight gown and threw wild parties. All night long sounds of revelry rolled out of the Braun apartment, mingled with the popping of champagne corks and shrieks of drunken laughter.

  “She knew just what behavior Der Fuehrer expected of her,” Hitler’s housekeeper told Intelligence officers, “and she never gave him any chance to criticize her, for she always was on her good conduct when he was around. But when she was left alone at ­Berchtesgaden or at the Munich apartment, she showed her true self and did almost everything the master objected to.

  Eva Flirted with Them Openly

  “There were handsome young men around, and Eva flirted with them openly. She enjoyed flattery and beamed girlishly at the attention she obtained. Eva loved the outdoors and often went swimming and hiking with her Munich friends.”

  When Intelligence operatives went through Eva’s personal belongings in the Munich apartment and at Berchtesgaden, they found plenty of documentary evidence to back up the housekeeper’s statements—and a lot more.

  Here for the first time you see photographs found by the Army in Eva’s private albums—and it’s a safe bet that Adolf never peeped into these secret pages, for there was enough evidence in these pictures to send Eva to her death, since Hitler was a jealous lover. There’s no doubt, either, that the boys who posed with their arms around the dictator’s mistress were off their rocker, for if Hitler suspected they were within ten miles of little Eva, they would have been target practice for the SS firing squads at dawn.