Her Hidden Life

by V. S. Alexander

  ‘Thank you.’ He looked around. Far up the hill a group of SS officers were walking down from the barracks. Karl took my hands in his. ‘We don’t have much time. I want to share something with you, Magda. It’s important to me. That’s only part of it – there’s much more. It concerns the war. Do you want to know why it’s important to me?’

  I nodded.

  ‘Then I’ll come by your room tonight when it’s safe. You must trust me as I trust you.’ He kissed me. ‘Go back to work. I have to go.’

  He walked quickly toward the Berghof as I headed back to the greenhouse. The SS officers smiled and nodded as they passed by.

  I knelt next to the cucumber plants and started to count again, but couldn’t help but wonder what Karl had to tell me that was so important. However, more exciting for me was the thrill that lingered from his kiss.

  A soft knock on my door woke me at two in the morning.

  I pulled on my robe and opened the door a few centimeters. Karl stood in the dim hall, his face ashen in the gray light. His eyes were puffy with dark circles underneath them. He pushed the door open and slipped in through the narrow opening. My room plunged back into darkness. I had gone to bed thinking he wasn’t going to come.

  ‘Light a candle,’ he said.

  ‘Are you certain this is safe?’ I asked, aware that it was dangerous for an SS officer to be in my room at this hour. ‘I don’t have a candle. I’ll get one from the kitchen.’

  ‘Please, but be careful. A guard is on duty outside the entrance. I made up the story that additional investigations regarding Ursula and the poisoning were being conducted under cover of night.’

  ‘At this hour?’

  ‘I told him it was of utmost secrecy.’

  I put on my slippers and stepped from the room. The Berghof was in blackout; fortunately, I had walked the hall so many times I knew where I was going. Candles and matches were stored over one of the sinks, kept there as accessories for Hitler’s evening dinners. I opened the cupboard like a thief, took them and then crept back to my room. I wondered if the Colonel was hiding under a table waiting to catch me in my nocturnal wanderings. Fortunately, neither he nor anyone else stopped me.

  I found Ursula’s ashtray pushed against the wall under her bed, placed the candle in it and lit the flame. A warm yellow light flared outward in a small circle. Karl sat on my bed, his head cupped in his hands. He finally looked up, withdrew an envelope concealed in his uniform jacket and placed it beside him. He motioned for me to sit on the bed next to him.

  I did so. Then he kissed me with a sudden warmth and passion.

  I didn’t push him away. His lips drifted to my neck where his soft breath sent tingles down my spine. I regained my composure and broke away from his embrace even though I didn’t want him to stop. My heightened emotions made his affection too uncomfortable.

  ‘What is this about?’ I asked. ‘Why put us both in danger?’

  He caressed my face and said, ‘I told you when we met that I recognized something different in you. I still believe that’s true.’

  I looked at him, unsure what to say.

  He took his hands away. ‘Franz was distraught this afternoon. He could barely answer the questions the Colonel asked him. He lied about his relationship with Ursula. Franz told the Colonel they were only friends. I know they were more than that. He told me so himself – you know how men brag.’

  ‘Why are you telling me this?’

  ‘Because you think for yourself and you don’t want the German people to suffer any more than I do.’

  ‘Of course I don’t.’

  ‘Tell me, are you in love with Hitler?’

  I almost laughed, the question was so ludicrous. I was quick to answer. ‘In love? Not at all.’

  ‘Do you believe in him and the dream of the Third Reich?’ He paused as if pained by his words. ‘I’m saddened for Germany.’

  I thought of my father because Karl’s words were exactly like something he would say. ‘I don’t admire the Führer,’ I said. ‘My father says he surrounds himself with bullies who do his dirty work while he enjoys life. That kind of man earns no respect. I agree with that.’

  Karl picked up the envelope he’d placed on the bed, opened it and withdrew several photographs. ‘These are hard to look at, but you need to see them. Hitler is wrong about the war; he is lying about how the Reich deals with Jews and prisoners of war. The lies must be stopped.’ He handed them to me. ‘My life is in your hands.’

  I tilted the photos toward the candlelight. The first series showed SS officers shooting naked men, women and children perched atop a ravine. You could even see the smoke erupting from their rifles. ‘Where is this?’ I asked, horrified by what the photos portrayed.

  Karl bowed his head. ‘Near the Eastern Front.’

  It was shocking enough that our soldiers were shooting unarmed men – but women and children as well?

  The second set of photos was even more gruesome and I blanched at the sight of corpses entwined in death. There were so many you could not tell where one body ended and the next began. The photos showed mounds of luggage, shoes and eyeglasses, followed by mountains of decomposing flesh. I was stunned. In the final picture, a naked man lay dead on a slab in front of an opening that looked like the door to an oven. A prisoner – nearly a corpse himself – stood by his side, presumably to make sure the body was cremated.

  ‘Is this propaganda from the Allies?’ I asked, not wanting to believe what lay in front of me.

  Karl shook his head. ‘No, the photos are real. They came from an SS officer at Auschwitz. You must keep what you’ve seen to yourself.’ He replaced the photos in the envelope and slid them back in his jacket. ‘There’s an underground network of officers who believe National Socialism must be stopped – for the good of Germany. We are determined to make sure this happens.’

  I didn’t want to hear his words – not because of Germany, but because I was selfish. Karl’s life was in danger. Anyone who defied Hitler was doomed. ‘Only a few men know about this? You’re taking a huge risk.’

  Karl nodded. ‘A risk worth dying for.’

  I trembled as if an icy wind had raced over me, my body full of conflicting emotions. On the one hand, I recognized my growing attraction for Karl and I admired his strength, courage and conviction. Not every man would place his life in a woman’s hands, or ask that she join him in keeping such a powerful and dangerous secret. The pictures he had shown me were already seared into my memory. What kind of tyrant could order these kinds of deaths? Shouldn’t all of Germany rise up to stop such atrocities? But so few people knew and what use would it be to start a revolution? The Reich, and its powerful officers, would crush anything in its way. Then I pictured Ursula dead upon the ground. She had sacrificed herself for her brothers. How could I dishonor her and Karl by ignoring the photographs? Karl studied me, awaiting my response. Finally, I asked, ‘What do you want me to do?’

  ‘Offer your strength,’ he said, grasping my hands. ‘Don’t betray me. I’m not alone, but few can be trusted.’ His breath caught and he stroked my hair. ‘It’s too much to ask, but perhaps one day you’ll return the love I feel.’

  I wanted to draw away because his words overwhelmed me. The only man who had ever professed love for me was my father. ‘Why should I love you when you may die? There’s no future in death.’

  ‘If Hitler continues to lead there will be no future for anyone.’ He rose from my bed and looked down upon me. ‘I must get back. Think about what I’ve said.’

  He started to leave, but I gripped his arm. ‘Did you know Ursula was planning to poison the Führer?’

  ‘Only through her hints, but she talked about it as if it were a joke. That’s what we were whispering about at the Teahouse the day we went. I cautioned her not to be so brazen, but I had no idea she had taken it upon herself to poison him without anyone’s help. She was so bitter about her brothers’ deaths. I was trying to comfort her – in fact, squelch such talk a
bout Hitler.

  ‘Poisoning the tea was a foolish thing to do. She would have killed everyone who drank at his table. It was a suicide mission. If she hadn’t been identified as the perpetrator, all of us might have been executed.’

  I hesitated, but then admitted, ‘I saw the poison on her apron. I didn’t know what it was.’ Pangs of sorrow stabbed at me. ‘Maybe I could have stopped her if I had known, but would I want that knowledge? What would become of my parents if the SS thought I was involved? I don’t want them to die. They’re all I have in the world.’

  ‘Ursula loved her brothers more than her own life. She died for them. The madness gripping us demands stern sacrifices. That’s the truth. If you decide to join me, either of us might be killed. Your parents might be in danger as well. The Gestapo and the SS have ways of making death quite unpleasant. No one wants to be a hero, but consider what we’ve talked about.’

  He bent down, kissed me on the cheek and then quietly walked out. My head swam with emotion as I crawled into bed. Was I willing to risk my life, and perhaps my parents’ lives, for Karl? The pictures he had shown me ran through my head as the hours dragged by. Could the world be saved from such horrors? I tossed and turned.

  After a few hours of fitful sleep, I awoke. My view had shifted. Calm descended upon me. Ursula had sacrificed herself for the love of her brothers. Could I sacrifice myself in order to shorten the war? My heart told me that Karl and his love for me were true. I tried to ignore the feelings building inside me, but something greater than myself was urging me on. I had to trust my intuition.

  I was no longer the sensible Magda who had entered the civilian service only for a job. Now I was Magda Ritter, a woman who could be a traitor, a co-conspirator in the Führer’s death and – if I followed my heart – a lover of Captain Karl Weber.

  THE WOLF’S LAIR

  RASTENBURG

  CHAPTER 7

  Hitler disappeared in early July 1943. Preparations started in late June, and he vanished within three days as did nearly everything connected with him. The Berghof housekeeper and her husband remained, as did those charged with keeping the residence in readiness should Hitler return. Martin Bormann stayed for a few days, but his brother Albert was gone, presumably with the Führer. Speer sped off to Berlin and we were told that Göring had vacated his home, which was located on a rise above the Berghof.

  Karl slipped an envelope under my door in the middle of the night, addressed to me, to say he had been called by the Führer to Rastenburg and the Wolf’s Lair. He did not want to wake me. I was dismayed he had taken the risk because there would have been trouble had someone else gotten hold of the note. No one was supposed to know where Hitler was headed. After I read it, I burned it in Ursula’s ashtray and ground the ashes into the earth on a walk to the greenhouse. I was sad Karl had to leave, but I understood the nature of his job.

  Cook had said little about Ursula’s poisoning, but I could tell she was upset. Her normally mild and cheerful demeanor turned cold and pallid in comparison to earlier days. The attempted poisoning had sent shock waves through the Berghof. Cook watched everyone with an eagle eye and supervised all the food preparation even though Hitler was no longer there. She wanted no mistakes, and, by implication, suspicion to fall upon her.

  She lectured me one day about what a great loss it would be if the Führer were assassinated. ‘There would be no Germany,’ she said. ‘We must stand by him to the end. Every sacrifice must be made.’

  I only nodded and thought of the terrible pictures Karl had shown me – proof no one could deny. Yet, according to Karl, only a few officers knew about them. To distribute them to the German people would be folly. I wondered if the populace would even believe they were real. Most, under the Reich’s constant propaganda barrage, would think they were manufactured by Jews or Bolshevists. Goebbels would use such a tactic to his advantage to stir up the people. Dirty Jews or communist swine had produced these photos to ferment dissension, he would preach from his political pulpit. He was a master at his art.

  In my first few days without Karl, my thoughts were filled with misgivings and apprehension about any attack on Hitler. To follow Karl might mean my death and, most likely, a similar fate for my parents. My heart longed for his love, but a careful, rational look at our situation brought fear and doubt. I could not abandon my parents to the Gestapo and their tactics; even Uncle Willy and Aunt Reina might be persecuted. What if my love affair with Karl blossomed into a full-fledged relationship? Any misstep, any informant, any error in judgment could cost him his life. What if we were married and I became pregnant? Could I carry a child through the horrors of war, bear it and bring it into a world of despotic criminals? These conflicts tore at my mind until I was exhausted from thinking.

  One evening in early July, after a halfhearted tasting and meal, I walked to the terrace to enjoy the air. An SS officer stood on the far side taking in the view. We were alone and I was happy because I didn’t want company. The chairs and sun umbrellas were piled in a corner – most of the furniture had been shoved aside because Hitler was no longer there. I sat on the stone railing and looked out over the valley. The long shadows of the setting sun cut purple swaths across the mountains. The green forests were turning gray in the fading light. The air was pleasant and carried a summer scent of grass and meadow flowers. I was absorbed in the beauty in front of my eyes when someone tapped my shoulder. The touch startled me and I turned to see Eva Braun.

  She wore a simple black dress, but she looked elegant, as if she had dined with the Führer. There was a touch of red on her painted cheeks and her hair looked freshly done. I detected that slight sadness that nearly always lingered in her eyes.

  ‘Magda, isn’t it?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes.’ I was surprised she remembered me.

  ‘You’re not reading tonight.’ She sat down beside me and looked out across the broad expanse. ‘It’s a lovely evening.’

  ‘Very lovely.’ I looked away, in no mood for delicate maneuvering. What did she want?

  ‘We seem to be of like spirit tonight,’ she said. ‘Is there anything I can do to make things better?’

  I shook my head. I couldn’t tell anyone, certainly not Hitler’s confidant, what I was going through. I made up an excuse, one I thought she would want to hear. ‘I miss the excitement the Führer brings to the Berghof. It’s very dull now that everyone is gone.’

  Eva nodded. ‘I’m off to Munich tomorrow to be with my parents and friends. The dogs are coming with me. I don’t suppose I will see Adolf until he comes back in … well, whenever he returns. He is so busy.’

  I knew she couldn’t say when Hitler would return. It would be as much a blunder as Karl telling me the Führer was on his way to Rastenburg.

  Another SS man appeared on the terrace with Eva’s two Scotties leading the way. She said nothing to him as he handed her their leashes. ‘Negus, Stasi, sit!’ The spunky black dogs did as they were told and sat looking at her with their pink tongues hanging out. The SS man saluted and turned on his heels.

  Eva smirked. ‘They’re so formal. I suppose they have to be.’ She paused and then asked, ‘Do you have a boyfriend?’

  I knew anything I’d say would get back to Hitler. If I gave her Karl’s name, it might make it easier for us to see each other; on the other hand, the connection would bond us together for either good or bad. I’d been told that one of Hitler’s private secretaries had married an SS officer because the Führer enjoyed seeing them together. He’d played the role of fatherly matchmaker and the two had eventually given in. I hoped my answer might make things easier for Karl and me. ‘Captain Weber took me to your showing of Gone with the Wind, and we’ve been on walks and to dances.’

  Eva smiled. ‘Oh, Captain Weber. A fine officer and handsome man. The Führer depends upon him. He would be an admired and respected husband.’

  I fought to keep from blushing. ‘We have no marriage plans. We barely know each other.’

  Eva petted one
of the dogs and said, ‘That could change. When the war is over, everyone who served will be honored. Karl and you will have a happy home and many children for the Reich.’

  I looked away wanting to finish the conversation about my private life.

  ‘Wasn’t it horrible about the other taster?’ Eva asked.

  Her eyes snared me and I knew I must be cautious in my response. I remembered Cook’s words about what to do under questioning. I looked at her and said, ‘Yes. She must have gone mad to do such a thing. I never suspected.’

  ‘That’s why the Führer has people like you and Karl working for him. We must protect him; otherwise, all is lost.’ She smiled, but panic also flashed in her eyes. Perhaps she sensed, or knew, the war was going badly. ‘Why, even young women are suspect. One was captured and tried in Munich in February for handing out leaflets that maligned the Führer and the Party. A word of advice, Magda – never trust anyone. You cannot be too cautious. Remain loyal – but what am I saying? I know you will be.’

  I hesitated, but then asked, ‘What happened to the woman?’

  ‘Her head was cut off.’ Eva gave an uncomfortable laugh, rose from the railing and pulled on the dogs’ leashes. ‘Adolf despises such nasty business.’ She held out her hand. ‘I suppose it will be a while before we see each other again.’

  I nodded and shook her hand; it was cold to the touch. She said good night and I did likewise. The SS man was still in the corner. I wanted to find out if Eva was telling the truth about the woman who had been beheaded, so I decided to ask the officer. My question would be risky, but I reasoned I would get an answer if I told him I was trying to find out for Eva. He had certainly seen her on the terrace with me.

  He barely gave me a glance as I approached. Apparently, he was a sentry assigned to look out over the grounds and the SS guardhouse below. He had taken a seat on the stone railing. His shoulders were hunched with boredom; there was little to guard when Hitler was away. Even the skies were clear from threats. A few Allied planes had flown over recently. The air-raid sirens sounded, but no bombs were dropped.