Her Hidden Life

by V. S. Alexander

  ‘Gentlemen, this way for the demonstration,’ the officer said.

  The older man in the business suit led the way. The crowd poured out the door, like dogs on the hunt, and turned to the east. Karl was one of the last out the door. He picked up a knapsack that had been resting near his feet. I hadn’t seen it when I first entered the hall. He stopped briefly near the door, turned and smiled. His smile, full of melancholy sadness, sent shivers down my spine. It was like looking at a skull, death itself staring me in the face.

  When the procession of officials and officers had disappeared, I got up from the table and followed them down the path. They disappeared into the thickness of the green forest. Soon I would be swallowed by it as well, but I knew which way the men were going. Their voices carried on the air.

  The path led onward for many meters before it ended and became a trail. Ahead of the men, I saw a fence that I couldn’t get through. Two SS guards stood near a gate. I veered off onto a smaller trail that led into the woods. The muddy ground squished around my shoes and bugs flew up from their moist hiding places. Karl had warned me about land mines, so I followed the narrow track already set into the earth.

  A cleared field beyond the gate crossed into my view as I maneuvered through the vegetation. Hitler and his party stood in a circle around a large black machine – a tank as far as I could tell. A branch snapped behind me and I jumped.

  ‘What are you doing here, Fräulein?’

  I turned and faced an officer with a black patch covering his left eye. His shoulders were stooped from injury. He stood next to me, using a walking stick for support. He was a handsome man despite his disfigurement.

  My mind went momentarily blank. After I regained my senses, I blurted out: ‘I’m carrying a message. I wasn’t sure which way to turn.’ My excuse sounded as false as my words.

  ‘A message? To whom?’ He smiled, but his expression was more a smirk than a sign of kindness. He tapped the ground with his walking stick.

  I didn’t want to link myself to Karl, so I replied, ‘To the Führer,’ and immediately regretted my hasty stupidity.

  ‘Then I will give him your message,’ he said.

  I shook my head. ‘It’s confidential.’

  ‘I’m Colonel von Stauffenberg. I saw you veer off the path. You must be very bad at following people, or very interested in goings-on that aren’t your business. Give me the message.’

  He was a different man from the Colonel who had given me such grief at the Berghof. Still, I gulped. I had trapped myself and I saw no easy way out of it. ‘Please tell the Führer he will have the most delicious apple pie tonight. Magda, his taster, will make sure of it.’

  Von Stauffenberg chuckled. ‘Yes. I can see your message is confidential. Of course, “apple pie” is the secret code for the Reich’s latest invasion plan.’

  I pushed past him, but the Colonel braced his cane against a tree and stopped me in my tracks. ‘I don’t know what you’re doing here, but I’m not going to report you.’ His lips narrowed and he looked at me like a hawk eyeing a succulent rodent. ‘You realize the outer perimeter of the Wolf’s Lair is filled with land mines. You could be blown apart with one fatal step. Many unfortunate animals have ended their lives here.’

  ‘Thank you for your advice,’ I said. ‘I must get back to the kitchen.’

  He lifted his cane and asked, ‘What is your name?’

  ‘Magda Ritter.’

  ‘I will remember you, Fräulein Ritter. You can be sure of it.’

  He followed me back to the path. I turned west, the way I’d come, as the Colonel continued toward the field. I looked back before the trees blocked my view. Hitler and the man in the business suit were standing on top of the machine. Göring and the others were crowded around like adoring lambs. Von Stauffenberg ambled toward them. How unfortunate, I thought, that a high-ranking officer would make it his business to remember my name.

  The whole day my nerves were on edge. I couldn’t sit still as I waited for an outbreak of chaos at the Wolf’s Lair, or the horrible news of Karl’s death. Every effort to clear my mind failed. I paced the library, picking out books to read, but ended up throwing them on the table. As the hours dragged by, I convinced myself the worst was over and prepared for my tasting. During work, I tried to put on a good face although Cook and the other tasters weren’t convinced by my display of pleasantries. Cook, in particular, knew me well enough to know that something was wrong. She asked me several times if I was ill. But as the hours passed, my fear lessened. Surely if something horrible had occurred the news would have spread across the Wolf’s Lair.

  Later that evening, after hours of not knowing what had happened, Karl found me on my walk home and slipped an envelope into my hand. I almost collapsed from relief.

  ‘Read it and then burn it,’ he whispered. ‘Make sure the ashes are destroyed. I’m writing this letter because it is dangerous to be seen together.’ He walked quickly away.

  I folded the envelope and tucked it into my pocket. Reading the letter in my bedroom was risky, so, once again, I took refuge in our dormitory’s library.

  As I thought, no one was there. I switched on a small lamp, took a book of German history from the shelf and settled into the overstuffed chair. I was away from everyone and for that I was thankful. I took out the letter, folded it in half and inserted it in the center of the book. I pretended to be reading history but, instead, focused on Karl’s letter:

  Dearest Magda,

  I am reluctant to be around you. Even handing you this letter comes with great risk. You hold my life in your hands. In fact, more than my life – the fate of Germany lies within this writing. I trust you will destroy any trace of it and I’ll know where your heart lies. If not, I will be executed for treason. Either way, you see I’m prepared to die for what I believe.

  This afternoon, I carried a knapsack loaded with a bomb. The explosion was meant for Hitler, Göring, Porsche and the rest. However, the plan was interrupted by von Stauffenberg, who was not scheduled to be here today. I cannot tell you more, but he and I are part of a movement to rid our country of the evil destroying it. Fortunately, I had not yet armed the bomb and I was able to dispose of it after the demonstration.

  You might ask why we don’t shoot the Führer and get it over with. Believe me, such a course of action has been discussed many times. Von Stauffenberg and the others are convinced any attempt to bring down the Reich must include as many of its leaders as possible, not just Hitler. To kill only him might lead to worse circumstances than those that already exist. This is not a decision made lightly.

  I’m alive tonight because von Stauffenberg decided to make an unannounced trip to the Wolf’s Lair. It was not my intention to kill a fellow collaborator. He is convinced the British have made plans as well and are waiting for the right moment. I doubt these include poison, but please be careful, my dearest. I want you to live whether or not I am alive. We will have no future until we can make it safe for our children.

  Please destroy this letter and confirm my faith in you. Many lives besides our own hang in the balance. We will meet soon.

  Yours in love,

  Karl

  With trembling hands, I put the letter back in the envelope. Children? Any hope for the future? I marveled at his faith in me. If von Stauffenberg had not been there in the afternoon, the world would have been rid of a tyrant and many of his officers, and the man who professed his love for me would be dead.

  I searched the library for a cigarette lighter or matches but found none. I stepped outside and saw a girl walking by who lived in the quarters opposite mine. I asked if she smoked and she nodded. I also asked if I might borrow her lighter. She pulled it from her pocket and we talked for a few minutes. She said to return it to her in the morning, because she was going to bed.

  As soon as she left, I ran to the woods behind the dormitory, an area safe from mines. The words from Karl’s note raced through my head. He was a hero, a man to respect and love. Altho
ugh no stars were visible through the trees, my eyes swam with them. A strange, giddy excitement overtook me and I walked briskly, oblivious to the mosquitoes hovering around my head. Then the dark closed around me. How could I fall in love with a man who wanted to die? He wanted me to live, but how could I go on without him, shattered by his death? Despair and euphoria fought to control me. I shuddered to a stop near a rock outcropping, frozen in place, and listened. The night insects buzzed in my ears. I opened the lighter and the pungent odor of Naphtha wafted into my nose. I brushed my thumb against the wheel, the flint sparked and a yellow flame split the darkness. I held the note with two fingers and lit the bottom edge. The paper curled in a brown wave and was consumed so quickly I dropped it on the rock. The letter burned to shards of gray dust. I took the ashes in my hands, dropped them on the muddy earth and crushed them into the ground until they disappeared. I was certain no one would find them.

  I crept out of the forest, making sure I hadn’t been seen. When I arrived back at the dormitory, I washed my hands, returned to the library and stared at the bound volumes stacked so neatly in the cases. I couldn’t force myself to read. Neither education nor entertainment could satisfy my heart as I sat curled in my favorite chair. Slowly, the excitement of Karl’s admission left my body and I wept over our uncertain future – a future that might include death.

  One thought consumed me: Our fate is sealed.

  Hitler loved to take Blondi for a walk in the morning. Sometimes his valet took the dog, but usually the Führer walked her around the wooded area near his bunker.

  Like a cancer invading my brain, I began to think of ways to kill him, speculating about his walks with Blondi, or how it might happen during a meal. These insane thoughts centered on me saving Karl. I wanted to die in his place.

  Then my mind would calm and I would convince myself I was being foolish. How could I bring down the head of the Reich? I couldn’t poison him without poisoning others who might be innocent. And what if I was captured? I would be killed and my parents probably arrested. I had no pistol to shoot him, and what would it matter if I did? Karl was right. With Göring, Goebbels, Bormann or Himmler leading the state, Germany might be worse off. I’d become a madwoman, with murderous thoughts buzzing in my brain. I thought my head would burst.

  Near summer’s end, Hitler invited Karl and me to evening tea. When I’d first met Hitler, when he was walking Blondi, he had made that suggestion. The invitation came to me through Cook one night after tasting. Nothing could be done about it. One did not decline tea with the Führer, but I couldn’t help but be wary of what was to come.

  Franz was waiting for me when I stepped out of the dormitory one morning. I hadn’t seen him since the night in the woods when he told me he was being sent to the Eastern Front. I greeted him and he walked beside me. He withdrew his cigarettes from his jacket and tapped one against his gold holder. Sunlight split the leafy canopy above and he squinted at me. He lit his cigarette and said, ‘I hear you’ve been invited to tea with the Führer.’

  ‘Yes.’ I was happy to see Franz, but uncomfortable at the same time. A sense of carefree danger always seemed to surround him and meeting like this reinforced that feeling. ‘I thought you’d been sent to the Front.’

  Franz chuckled. ‘I’ve been called back, so I can brief Hitler on the state of our war machine. It’s in sad shape. We’re losing ground and morale is low. Some of the troops are beginning to wonder what they’re fighting for, but too many of them still believe the propaganda spewed by their officers.’

  I looked into his face, now thinner and creased with lines. ‘Why are you here? Do you have a message for me?’

  He grabbed my arm and forced me to a stop. ‘I did what had to be done to Minna. You must be pleased about that. I saved both your lives.’

  ‘We should keep walking.’ I continued on the path. We walked past the mess hall and toward the field where Karl had intended to deploy the bomb. ‘Of course I’m grateful,’ I whispered. ‘Minna was a fool. But our position is too precarious and I want—’ A lump formed in my throat.

  Franz put his hand on my arm. A group of officers passed us, but none gave us more than a greeting and a glance.

  ‘You love Karl, don’t you?’ Franz asked.

  I nodded.

  ‘Then you’ll be happy to know his position within the group has been reassigned. Von Stauffenberg knows what you did in the kitchen, how you tried to poison Minna at great risk to yourself. He and the others, including myself, are grateful. In fact, I think your little stunt completely befuddled the SS. Otto got the blame.’

  No one was around, so we stopped.

  ‘Karl had his chance and, lucky for you both, von Stauffenberg got in the way,’ Franz continued. ‘The timing wasn’t right. With these things you never know what will happen.’ He puffed on his cigarette. ‘Karl’s been “retired,” so to speak. He’s to focus on reconnaissance here at the Wolf’s Lair and at the Berghof. Von Stauffenberg is taking over in every aspect. That’s what I was sent to tell you.’

  Relief flooded through me; however, it faded quickly as I considered our circumstances. Far too many fears filled my head. I thanked Franz. We shook hands and then he turned and headed back the way we had come. As he disappeared from view, I thought how much he had aged in the few months I had known him. His blond hair seemed darker; his wide, bright smile had narrowed; his creased face showed the stress of battle. One thing I knew for certain: Von Stauffenberg would now figure prominently in the life, or death, of Adolf Hitler.

  Karl and I had no chance to talk before meeting at Hitler’s for tea. I made my way to the bunker, after freshening up from the evening’s tasting. An SS guard on patrol stopped me and asked for my papers. When I told him I was having tea with the Führer, he walked with me. I knew he was only doing it to verify my story. Karl was standing near the door when we arrived about ten. The guard left after Karl had talked with him.

  The Führer’s bunker was more impressive at night than during the day. It sat like a black monolith on the sodden earth and, even though it was not as large as some of the others on the grounds, it rose up like a derelict Mayan temple covered by the forest surrounding it. A single bright light shone over its iron door. Karl greeted me formally and then spoke to the armed men at the entrance. They escorted us through the narrow opening into a large corridor lined with doors where we were met by a valet. I recognized him from the Berghof, where he had also been in Hitler’s service. Tall, with a broad chin and thin lips, he was solidly SS: upright, strict, formal, a man’s man, obsequious to the Führer. He led us farther down the corridor until we found ourselves in a cramped tearoom furnished with a round table that seated about six comfortably. Several painted landscapes adorned the walls. Two rustic lamps in the corners shone a warm light through their beige silk shades. One couldn’t get over the feeling, however, of being in a bunker, no matter how hospitable the atmosphere. The fans whirred overhead. I fought the feeling that the walls were closing in around me. We said little to each other because we didn’t know if our conversation might be overheard.

  I’d chosen a simple black dress, black shoes and two small gold earrings for the evening. I could never be another smartly dressed Eva Braun for Hitler.

  Karl tapped his fingers against the table.

  ‘Calm yourself,’ I said. ‘You have no reason to be nervous.’

  He placed his cap in his lap. ‘Why has he invited us? Why tonight?’

  I put my hand upon his and he relaxed with my touch. I wondered myself why Hitler had invited us. Did he have information regarding the officers who were plotting against him? Had someone given our secrets away? Did he know I had tried to poison Minna, or that Franz had killed her? Perhaps he wanted to question us about her death. Such useless speculation only fueled my anxiety.

  The door opened after a quick knock and the valet appeared, followed closely by another. The valet I recognized from the Berghof held a bouquet of red long-stem roses, which he presented to
me. ‘These are from the Führer,’ he said. ‘He will be here soon.’ He then ordered the other man to wheel in a cart loaded with coffee, tea, plates of cookies and slices of apple cake. I laughed to myself because I had tasted all this food earlier. The valets left us and a short time later the door swung open again.

  Hitler appeared with Blondi by his side. Karl clutched his cap. We both rose and gave the Nazi salute. Hitler motioned for us to sit down. We, like Blondi, obeyed. Hitler looked more relaxed than I had ever seen him. A slight flush of color infused his cheeks, which were generally pasty because of his aversion to sunlight. His valet pulled out the chair next to me and the Führer sat. For a time, he said nothing, only looked at us with his riveting blue eyes. One could sense the fire burning underneath them. Rasputin’s eyes must have had the same effect upon his followers.

  Once again, I felt overwhelmed by Hitler’s presence as if some powerful force emanated from him. What was it – the sheer force of his will? I could see how easy it would be, like the rest of the nation, to be swept up in the endless flow of his propaganda on radio and in films. What power he held over the German people!

  A circular medallion was pinned on his black jacket. It consisted of a gold wreath on the outer layer bordered by a white band, and an inner red band with NSDAP written upon it, all of this encircling a black swastika on a white background.

  Karl and I dared not speak until he had spoken to us.

  ‘I am happy to see you,’ he said, breaking open the conversation. He spoke in that deep baritone voice I had heard so often when he addressed the Reich. His speech pattern carried its own cadence, a rhythm that was in itself hypnotic. ‘I hope we can enjoy the evening – I treasure what free time I have, for I am always called away from moments like these for some nasty business, unless I tell my adjutant not to disturb me.’ He motioned for his valet to serve tea.

  Blondi curled up near Hitler’s feet and looked at me with her soft brown eyes.