Tea with Hitler: A Novel

TEA WITH HITLER:

A NOVEL

By

Kenyon Marcus

Published by Kenyon Marcus

Smashwords Edition

Copyright December 2011 by Kenyon Marcus

Second Edition

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TABLE OF CONTENTS:

INTRODUCTION

CHAPTER 1 – THE EAGLE’S NEST

CHAPTER 2 - PURIFYING THE MASTER RACE

CHAPTER 3 - A NEW DARK AGE

CHAPTER 4 - THE LOST HOMELAND

CHAPTER 5 - INTO THE VALLEY

CHAPTER 6 - UNIVERSITY

CHAPTER 7 - THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM

CHAPTER 8 - GROFAZ

CHAPTER 9 - THE CHASE BEGINS

CHAPTER 10 - DEBRIEFING

CHAPTER 11 - THE DEVIL’S CLAW

CHAPTER 12 - CUSTOMS AT THE RIEHEN CROSSING

CHAPTER 13 - THE MOUNTAIN OF THE STAR

CHAPTER 14 - THE DANCE

CHAPTER 15 - A DRINK OF WATER

CHAPTER 16 - AMBUSH

CHAPTER 17 - GOOD DEEDS

CHAPTER 18 - COMPANIONS OF THE OATH

CHAPTER 19 - DYING OF THIRST

CHAPTER 20 - VALOR IS SUPERIOR TO NUMBERS

CHAPTER 21 - ISTEINER KLOTZ

CHAPTER 22 - WELL DONE!

CHAPTER 23 - KRISTALLNACHT

CHAPTER 24 - PETS

CHAPTER 25 - THE BITE

CHAPTER 26 - A DEBT OF HONOR

CHAPTER 27 - GEMUTLICHKEIT

CHAPTER 28 - QUIET FLOWS THE RHINE

CHAPTER 29 - THE BUNKER

CHAPTER 30 - THE WEEPING SWAN

CHAPTER 31 - THE MAD MINUTE

CHAPTER 32 - PIECES OF THE PUZZLE

CHAPTER 33 - THE MISFORTUNES OF WAR

CHAPTER 34 - WORDS OF LOVE

CHAPTER 35 - THE RIVER WALK

THE AUTHOR

SUGGESTIONS FOR FURTHER READING

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to my wife who inspired it and who tolerated my journeys through time to the darker places of human history. Her love is the light which always guided me back from the abyss.

INTRODUCTION

Tea with Hitler is a story of a David and Goliath. It takes place during 1940 at a time when Switzerland was surrounded by Hitler’s Third Reich and its Axis partners and the world faced the very real possibility of a new Dark Age.

The reader will meet Adolf Hitler in these pages. He’s just as evil as history describes him, but the man who invited Marie von Sternberg to tea isn’t the Fuhrer most people expect.

Instead, he’s short, swarthy, pudgy, flatulent, bug-eyed, sweaty, homosexual and boring. The legend of his glorious service in World War I is an early example of what might be called stolen valor these days and Hitler wasn’t even a German citizen. He was born in Austria and he entered Germany illegally to avoid the Austrian draft. In other words, he could be described as an illegal alien insofar as Germany was concerned.

Hitler is such an improbable leader of the tall, blonde, blue-eyed Master Race that Marie is compelled to agree with one of her professors at the University of Basel, Carl Gustav Jung that the Germany she once knew must be in the grip of some sort of demonic mass possession. Jung’s speculations on this were published in 1936 under the title Wotan.

Jung wasn’t alone in such speculation. Two German authors published biographies in that same year which included speculation that Hitler was the Anti-Christ. They were Rudolf Olden and Konrad Heiden. Both books were entitled Hitler and both were published after their authors left the Third Reich.

Hermann Rauschning presented similar speculation in 1939 when his book, Hitler Speaks, was published. So did Louis P. Lochner in 1942 with What About Germany? Like Heiden and Olden, both Rauschning and Lochner got out of Hitler’s Reich before their books were published. Olden didn’t survive the war, however. He and his wife were killed when a Nazi U-boat sunk the British passenger ship, City of Benares, on September 18, 1940.

Such speculation isn’t new. A century before the Machtergreifung, or [Nazi] Seizure of Power as it’s called by Germans today when referring to Hitler’s ascendance to the Chancellorship in 1933, the famous German poet Heinrich Heine concluded his book, Religion and Philosophy in Germany, with the following warning:

Christianity – and this its greatest merit - has somewhat mitigated that brutal German love of war, but it could not destroy it. Should that subduing talisman, the Cross, be shattered, the frenzied madness of ancient warriors, that insane Berserker rage of which Nordic bards have spoken and sung so often, will once more burst into flame. This talisman is fragile, and the day will come when it will collapse miserably. Then the ancient stone gods will rise from the forgotten debris and rub the dust of a thousand years from their eyes, and finally Thor with his giant hammer will jump and smash the Gothic cathedrals…. When you hear a crashing such as never before has been heard in the world’s history, and then you know that the German thunderbolt has fallen at last. At that uproar the eagles of the air will drop dead, and the lions in the remotest deserts of Africa will hide in their royal dens. A play will be performed in Germany which will make the French Revolution look like an innocent idyll.

Like a significant number of Germans, Heine was Jewish.

CHAPTER 1 – THE EAGLE’S NEST

She was young and pretty with perfect Aryan features, blond hair, fair skin and she moved with the grace of a ballerina. Her pale, luminescent eyes were what people noticed first. She had the eyes of a wolf, a legacy of medieval ancestors who’d waged the Northern Crusade seven centuries ago and established the Teutonic Kingdom later known as East Prussia, an agricultural hinterland of Adolf Hitler’s growing Third Reich.

Her trip to Bavaria had been pleasant and the beauty of the mountains around Berchtesgaden delighted her. It was the spring of 1940 and she was looking forward to seeing her favorite uncle honored for his bravery in Poland. Other SS officers and men would be honored too and Reichsfuhrer Heinrich Himmler was scheduled to make the awards personally.

Marie Theresa von Sternberg, Countess of Kurland, was impressed by the dashing figure her uncle cut in his black SS uniform, but was flabbergasted to see that the Fuhrer himself was present and made the awards while Himmler stood quietly at his side. Her uncle thus received the Iron Cross for gallantry in Poland from the hand of Adolf Hitler.

Not only was she astonished by Hitler’s presence at the awards ceremony, but she was surprised at how short he looked. He wore riding pants and boots like a cavalry officer even though it was said that he was afraid of horses and never rode.

The short ceremony nevertheless went well and Marie was proud to finally take her uncle’s arm and congratulate him with a hug and a kiss. SS Untersturmfuhrer Wolfram von Sternberg beamed with pride both in his new Iron Cross and the approval of his adoring niece. The parade ground where the ceremony had taken place was in front the SS barracks a short walk from the comfortable Platterhof Hotel where she’d stayed.

It was a warm spring day in the scenic mountain village of Obersalzberg in the Berchtesgaden district of Bavaria and the gleaming snow-capped peaks of the area added to its beauty. The white-clad mountains of the Watzmann and Hochkalter caught the sunlight like fine crystal. The air was clear and Salzberg, Austria, was visible in the east. Mozart had lived there and Silent Night had been composed there. Now Salzberg was part of Hitler’s growing Reich like Austria itself and singing Silent Night was officially discouraged by the Nazi Party because it celebrated a Jewish Savior. It had been replaced by a song about an Aryan Jesus undefiled by any Jewish blood.

Marie couldn’t remember the name of the Nazi song and privately considered the whole matter to be an absurd denial of history. A devout Lutheran herself, she knew that Martin Luther taught that Jesus had been born into a Jewish family to save all mankind from sin, including her. She also knew that the Nazis had placed a leading Lutheran pastor, Martin Niemoller, in a concentration camp on Hitler’s personal order because he refused to follow Nazi instructions about such things. Niemoller had been a U-boat commander during the Great War. He’d won a number of awards for bravery and was a prominent war hero before answering God’s call to become a pastor. A lot of other pastors had been arrested and some killed for the same reason. Even Roman Catholic priests had experienced that kind of mistreatment by the Nazis. Some of them had also been killed and others were in concentration camps.

Marie had learned that it was best not to be too curious. Belonging to a prominent family wouldn’t protect her from the fury of the Nazis if their conduct toward prominent war heroes and religious leaders was any indication.

No wonder Professor Carl Gustav Jung compared Hitler to the ancient god of chaos, Wotan. Published in 1936, Marie recalled that Jung’s article noted that Wotan had been changed by Christianity into the devil and that he held the people of Germany in a state of Ergriffenheit or collective possession. Jung was a member of the faculty at the University of Basel and she’d heard some of his lectures. Hitler even physically resembled the Wotan depicted in Franz von Stuck’s painting entitled The Wild Chase. Marie had seen it at a memorial exhibition in Munich. Von Stuck had been a prominent Art Nouveau painter and sculptor in Bavaria at one time but some of his work had a dark edge that made her uncomfortable.

The Fuhrer lingered with some of his inner circle and Marie saw Princess Stephanie von Hohenlohe on the arm of Reichsfuhrer Heinrich Himmler, head of the SS. This offended her. Himmler was married and should never have associated with a notorious slut like Stephanie especially at a ceremony like this. The sun caught Stephanie’s red hair giving her a crown of spun fire. Marie wished to herself that the fire would burn off her aunt’s head. She knew that it was un-Christian to pray for such things, but Princess Stephanie was too much for her to bear.

Although titles of nobility had been officially abolished in Hitler’s new Reich, they still seemed to matter, especially to Himmler. His father had been employed by the Wittelsbach family. They had been the royal family of Bavaria and one of them was Himmler’s godfather. Marie wondered if that was why Himmler had encouraged her uncle to join the SS Cavalry Brigade. Even Hitler seemed to enjoy having a few blue-bloods around and Stephanie was one of the few people who could get past Martin Bormann, Hitler’s secretary, and spend time alone with the Fuhrer.

Marie suspected her aunt of seducing the Man of Destiny. She’d seduced everybody else, including Bormann, why not the Fuhrer? Marie peeked around her uncle’s shoulder and saw Stephanie chatting with Hitler. Then Stephanie saw them and motioned for them to join her.

Her uncle nodded and approached the Fuhrer’s group with Marie in tow. Stephanie smiled, and hugged them both and then introduced Marie as her niece. Mortified, Marie tried to smile and maintain her poise.

Himmler took her hand, squinted through his thick, round glasses and smiled at her. His hand was cold and clammy and his grip seemed limp. His skin was pallid. He seemed like a fish out of water but she felt his dark eyes undressing her. Marie was pretty and had experienced this kind of masculine scrutiny before. She sometimes felt flattered by such attention but Himmler’s look struck her as vaguely sinister.

Marie was surprised to see that the Fuhrer’s eyes seemed to protrude out of his head a bit. Hitler smiled paternally and took her hand in the Austrian fashion, kissing it and gently assuring her that he was charmed to meet her. You must join us for tea at the Eagle’s Nest, he said.

Thunderstruck, Marie managed to nod yes and muster a faint smile of appreciation. And so it was done. Shaking and weak in the knees, she leaned on her uncle as they took their leave.

Her uncle sensed her weakness and assured her that the Fuhrer had that effect on a lot of people. Don’t worry, he said to Marie. I’ll ask Stephanie to drop in and tell you what to expect. I’ve been ordered back to Poland or I’d go with you. The Eagle’s Nest is on the Kehlstein Mountain about four miles from here and over 6,000 feet up. Bormann had it built a couple of years ago as a birthday present for the Fuhrer. It’s marvelous. Just follow Stephanie’s lead and you’ll be fine.

Marie mumbled something appropriate while trying to imagine just what it might be like to follow Stephanie’s lead. That could involve dancing naked on the banquet table and having sex with Hitler and everybody else including his dogs. Although she was a good dancer, Marie realized that she was still a schoolgirl who hadn’t had sex with anybody let alone the entire leadership of the Thousand Year Reich. Aunt Stephanie might enjoy that sort of thing, but Marie wasn’t looking forward to it.

Stephanie showed up a couple of hours early and helped her select a nice, pale blue dress. Marie had been living with cousins at Liestal, Switzerland, near Basel, while she attended school there. Her cousins were French-speaking Romands who followed Paris fashions and expected Marie to keep up appearances.

Stephanie also reassured her. Tea at the Eagle’s Nest consisted of a lavish dinner followed by tea and pastries. Hitler liked to relax by talking to his guests until two or three in the morning. Then, he would retire followed by one girl, a bit older than Marie. She was Eva Braun.

The guests were expected to listen politely and laugh when the Fuhrer told a joke. They were also expected to agree with whatever he said even if it contradicted something he’d said earlier. Just think of him as a friend who’s always right, Stephanie said. And don’t react when he farts.

You’re joking! Marie commented.

Stephanie explained that she was serious. The Fuhrer had a sweet tooth and indigestion. He tended to be quite flatulent and nobody dared to react or to comment. Stephanie had experienced that a number of times to the point where she’d expected the paint to start peeling off the walls. Other than a polite cough, she’d learned to endure it. It was a bit like sitting in a well-furnished sewer. After the first few minutes, you couldn’t smell anything so it no longer mattered.

Will I be expected to have sex with him? Marie asked fearfully.

Laughing, Stephanie said No! He’s homosexual and I’ve heard that he only has one testicle and that his penis is freakishly small. I’ve spent enough time alone with him to seduce half the Nazi Party and all he did was drone on about politics. I can guarantee that he’s not interested in having sex with women no matter how attractive they are. Himmler’s a bit of a lecher, but its Bormann and Goebbels you really have to watch, especially Goebbels. If Goering was around, he’d make a pass at you, too. He’s getting fat, but he’s the most dashing of the lot. There will also be some secretaries and other clerical personnel there. Most of them are pretty and only a bit older than you. They’re all completely devoted to Hitler, however, so don’t shoot your mouth off no matter what the Fuhrer says or does. And don’t talk about what’s going on in occupied Poland or what’s happening in the concentration camps or ask where the Jews and other ‘enemies of the Reich’ are. You don’t want to know!

Marie nodded in agreement, jolted somewhat by the sudden recollection that Stephanie was a Jew herself. Stephanie gave her a stimulant to keep her from dozing off during Hitler’s anticipated soliloquy. Driven by an SS man, a Mercedes touring car called for them at the hotel and took them up the winding road to the Eagle’s Nest. The ride was relaxing and they arrived on time. Marie was impressed by the elaborate stonework around the entrance to what looked like a subway tunnel.

SS men escorted them through a marble-lined passageway almost four hundred feet long carved out of the living rock of the mountain itself. Marie noticed sparks being kicked up by the highly polished jackboots worn by the SS men. Their marching boots had iron reinforcements around the heel and iron hobnails for added traction. The effect in low light struck Marie as surreal. She couldn’t tell if she was entering a new world or a very old one.

The Fuhrer’s elevator awaited them in a large lobby at the end of the tunnel. It was the biggest lift she’d ever seen and, according to the SS officer in charge, it could comfortably accommodate up to forty people. Power was supplied by a U-boat engine which could be heard nearby.

She studied her reflection in the highly polished brass walls of the elevator as it ascended another four hundred feet to the interior of the Eagle’s Nest itself. The Fuhrer has a touch of claustrophobia and this makes it look bigger, Stephanie whispered into her ear.

Marie studied the reflections in the highly polished brass surfaces. They did make the elevator seem even larger and less confining than it was. Then she looked away startled by the sudden expectation that she might glimpse a reflection of the Fuhrer looking back at her from somewhere deep inside the wall with those strange, protruding eyes of his.

Marie wasn’t surprised to hear that the Eagle’s Nest had cost over thirty million Reichsmarks to construct. It was an extravagant piece of German engineering. She and Stephanie took in the view from the Scharitz Room. It was spectacular overlooking a number of smaller mountains including the Scharitzkehl, the Hoher Goll and some others. She could even see the glistening blue waters of a mountain lake, the Konigsee.

The view was breathtaking and the room was paneled in perfectly fitted cembra pine. Marie noticed a pretty young woman taking in the view. In a whisper, Stephanie identified her as Eva Braun. She seemed to be quite at home and Stephanie explained that some insiders referred to this as Eva’s room.

About thirty guests were present. Drinks and appetizers were served in the reception hall in front of a massive, elegant marble fireplace. Hitler was late, as usual, and Marie overheard someone mention that he was a vegetarian as well as a teetotaler. Stephanie confirmed both statements but noted that his guests could expect the best wines and liquors as well as generous portions of the best cuts of meat. The Eagle’s Nest had been constructed to overawe visiting diplomats with its hospitality and scenic location. In fact Bormann and other Nazi bigwigs had originally referred to it as the D-Haus to identify it as the House for Diplomats.

One of those diplomats had been Andre Francois-Poncet, the French Ambassador. After visiting the elegant D-Haus perched on top of the towering 6,000 foot tall Kehlstein he’d compared it to an eagle’s nest. Hitler loved it and the name stuck. An immaculately uniformed SS officer appeared and invited the guests into the oak paneled dining room. Place cards on the long, lavishly set table indicated the seating arrangement. Marie found herself between Stephanie and Hitler. The other seat at the head of the table bore Eva Braun’s name.

Eva entered wearing a light cotton print dress with a yellow cornflower design. She smiled at Marie and Stephanie and introduced herself. She was very pretty and it did not surprise Marie to learn that Eva had been a model for Heinrich Hoffmann, the Fuhrer’s favorite photographer. Eva did not mention her relationship with Hitler and Marie knew better than to ask. Instead, she commented on how nice Marie’s light blue dress looked and asked if she’d gotten it in Munich. The dress had actually come from a salon in Paris, but Marie did not wish to appear snooty and answered that she’d gotten it in Basel.

Eva chattered on about swimming and boating in the Konigsee and invited Marie to join her if she could stay long enough. Marie liked Eva and felt a sense of guilty pleasure when she realized that Eva was ignoring Stephanie. Eva seemed like a nice girl as she chatted about fashion, swimming, boating, riding and interesting places to shop and she was a lot closer to Marie in age and experience than she was to Stephanie. Indeed, she seemed as girlish and innocent as Marie herself was.

Eva changed when Hitler entered the room. She continued to smile, but she no longer chatted spontaneously. She reminded Marie of an animal going dormant with the approach of winter. Everyone stood, gave the Nazi salute and said Heil Hitler! Such a greeting was the law in the Third Reich now, and she was seated next to its Fuhrer.

The war was going well with the British bottled up at Dunkirk and the French in retreat. Hitler was in a good mood and welcomed his guests in a jovial tone of voice as the meal was served. The main course was an excellent Chateaubriand with all the trimmings and some of the best soufflé dumplings Marie had ever tasted. The Fuhrer was served a special salad, but Marie noticed that he seemed to like the dumplings, called Salzberger Nockerln, almost as much as she did.

She studied him and was surprised at his gelatinous appearance. He did not appear to have a skeleton and his eyes seemed to bug out even more than when she’d first seen him on the parade ground. Then he turned to face her.

Do you know why I invited you here, Gräfin von Kurland? he asked.

Marie was surprised to be addressed by her title, Countess of Kurland, and even more surprised that Hitler was familiar with it. Struggling to maintain her poise, she answered No, Mein Fuhrer. and smiled, hoping for the best.

Hitler paused and smiled benevolently taking her hand in the Austrian fashion as he said, You have my mother’s eyes.

CHAPTER 2 - PURIFYING THE MASTER RACE

Lorelei Tannhauser began to wake up. She couldn’t seem to move her arms and legs and somebody seemed to be watching her.

It’s best not to struggle, a feminine voice said. As her eyes focused, Lorelei saw a woman in the white uniform of a nurse standing by her bedside.

We didn’t want you to hurt yourself when you woke up from your sedative, the woman explained.

Where am I? Lorelei asked.

The nurse made some notes on a medical chart and answered You’re in the clinic at the Lebensborn center in Steinhoering near Munich and you’re in excellent health. You’ll be up and around before you know it as soon as you demonstrate that we can trust you to remain calm and follow our instructions.

Then Lorelei began to remember. She’d been selected for the honor of giving a child to the Fuhrer himself and the order had come personally from SS Reichsfuhrer Heinrich Himmler. The Nazis had even picked out the man who was going to be the father of her child. She could even qualify for a medal, the Mother’s Cross, if she had four children of good blood for the Fuhrer. If she had eight Aryan babies she would earn the Mother’s Cross in gold and be entitled to the Nazi salute on the street. She’d also get a pension and help with the children from Lebensborn, which meant, Font of Life. It all sounded comforting enough. If she did not wish to raise the children herself, Lebensborn would take them. She didn’t have to be married.

The Nazi Party placed little importance on such bourgeois notions as marriage. Germany’s birth rate had fallen in the wake of the First World War because of all the men lost. After the war, only one woman in four could hope to find a husband. For the Aryan master race to survive, the Nazis realized that the birth rate had to be increased by any means possible. Motherhood had become the goal of every loyal Nazi female and those who did not march in step were subjected to criticism and even violence.

Although she was just a farm girl from Freiburg im Breisgau, Himmler had determined she was descended from one of the knights who’d fought the pagans in the Northern Crusade and helped establish the Teutonic Kingdom and that she was the last of that bloodline. At sixteen, Lorelei wasn’t sure what all that meant, but she was sure that she didn’t want to be forced into having a baby by somebody she didn’t know. She’d wept, and then she’d broken a drinking glass and tried to kill