How I Saw Hitler on My Summer Vacation Read online

  While in Paris, I heard a rumor that Nuremberg hotels were turning people away if they were not on official business — even if they were offered large sums of money. That news had prompted me to check with the tourist office, where I was assured that the reservation was intact! Imagine my consternation! Judging by how many people were in town, I doubted that even a park bench would be available.

  The desk clerk informed me that this was the beginning of the annual Nazi Party Rally. I just stood there aghast, hoping that somehow he would take pity on me and try to help. He picked up the phone and made a sincere effort to find a room in town, to no avail. When I felt I was about to collapse, he smiled slyly, pointed his finger upward, and said that he had a tiny room in the attic that was seldom used, but I could have it. I was so relieved! All I wanted at that point was a bed and a roof over my head!

  The drab little attic room was freezing cold and had no running water — just a bowl and some ice-cold water in a pitcher! There was one window, which measured about one foot by two feet. It felt like I was imprisoned in one of those castle dungeons we had toured. However, I did have a roof over my head and I was not about to make any complaints to the desk. Instead of my hoped-for park bench, there was a bed, so I proceeded to flop down on it, and have a good cry. Thereupon, I felt much better! Isn’t that feminine psychology for you? It appears that every time I get into a jam, somehow the situation turns out to be particularly exciting or interesting. Little did I know what lay ahead.

  After I dried my eyes and powdered my face, I went downstairs to eat in the Bierstube. Like most places I had seen in Nuremberg, it was filled to the walls with soldiers. I crept to a small, unoccupied table in a dim corner of the room, and managed to get something to eat. Glancing cautiously around, I noticed that all of the other tables were occupied. Just then, a rotund German man holding a newspaper sat down with me. After we exchanged a few words, he decided his newspaper was more interesting than I was, so he hid behind it and continued to read. That was just fine with me, and I concentrated on my dinner.

  Fortunately, he did not stay long. As I was about to leave, a couple of Austrian fellows wearing leather shorts, white socks and feathered hats, appeared. After their very polite “bitte” and my “ja, bitte” they sat down across from me. The atmosphere of excitement in the city made things seem informal, thus one of the Austrians began to talk to me. He soon realized that my command of the German language was not very good. After he had paraded his six or seven words of English, we had to get back to his mother tongue. The other fellow spoke nothing but German. Somehow, I got the point across that I could read and write German better than I could speak it, so we resorted to written conversations on napkins and paper scraps.

  They were attending the Reich Congress, and proudly displayed their entrance tickets plus various newspaper clippings. In turn, I amused them with my passport and railway tickets. They were so easily entertained, and we laughed a lot. Visiting from their home town of Linz, Austria, they were in Nuremberg for the week. They seemed like such very nice boys. Max was the name of the tall light-haired fellow, and the shorter, darker man called himself Kurt. They wanted to teach me everything about uniforms, pointing out variations in the room. I had to take notes on my napkin, or I would not have remembered it all! It seems that some uniforms are not military, at all. There are a great many “politische” (political) uniforms, — which is the uniform in khaki — and it resembles our army dress. Then there are the “SS” who wear a similar uniform only of a dark color and with a different hat. The SA wear khaki uniforms, but with a different hat and band. The policemen usually wear dark uniforms with quite fancy hats. The true “militarische” (military) wear a strange colored grey-blue uniform and they customarily wear swords. Some fun, we had!

  When I decided to leave, they begged me to stay while they finished eating. Since the idea of returning to that cold little room appealed to me not at all, I stayed on. After Max and Kurt finished dining, we walked through the streets, laughing, while trying to understand each other. The overall atmosphere in town was just like a carnival, with such merriment and general fun everywhere! Max asked if I would like to walk by the Hotel Kaiserjof — where Hitler was staying — and of course, I agreed. As we grew nearer to the hotel, some military guards called out, and cautioned us to turn back. We could not get within a block of that building. We gaily wandered the streets, as they pointed out the different uniforms we discussed at dinner. Back in the States, I never see a reference to the S.S. and the S.A. troops in the newspaper, but here I was, learning the difference first hand. We could not get into much of an argument on politics, because of our limited speaking abilities. We laughed and talked about simple things, which, I guess, was just as well.

  People kept staring at me. I think they wondered what kind of a uniform I was wearing. My dark blue ensemble was a sort of military-looking suit, with domed silver metal buttons and a matching cape. I must have intrigued people who were immersed in such a military atmosphere. A group of young policemen from Hamburg, joined hands, sang, and danced in a circle around us. Max’s translation of their words was “You are so lovely, you are so beautiful.” The policemen only stopped their antics when their commander shouted an order for them to move on.

  Everything was in the spirit of celebration and gaiety, and the fellows acted so proud when anyone paid attention to me. Max and Kurt were both quite handsome. After they walked me back to my hotel, we finally had to say good night. They made me promise to be at my hotel at 11:00 a.m. tomorrow, when they will come for me and show me more of the sights. They tried to persuade me to stay over in Nuremberg, instead of going to Munich tomorrow afternoon. I tried to explain that it was necessary for me to go. Kurt said he wanted to dance with me, and it was too late to do that tonight. Max inquired if I was engaged to be married, and when I answered “No,” he solemnly said that he was not engaged. It is sad that I cannot stay over, because it would have been so much fun. Back now in my tiny cold room, it’s hurry to bed before I freeze.

  Date: September 7, 1938

  Place: Nuremberg

  Weather: Misty.

  TIMELINE: Because of Hitler’s demands on Czechoslovakia, France announces a partial mobilization of its armed forces.

  OH, what a day! I wish I could do it all over again. After rising early, and with the help of some very strong coffee in the breakfast room, I was ready to explore my surroundings.

  Little pocket map of Nuremberg

  Despite the light rain, I wandered all over the old part of the city, visiting churches, public squares, and famous fountains. After climbing up to the Castle Schloss, I found the 600 foot deep Schloss well. To demonstrate how very deep it is, someone pours in six splashes of water. After the sixth pouring, you could hear the first splash hitting the water below. While taking out my wallet to pay my fee for this attraction, a handsome “militarische” stepped up and paid it for me! I feel like a regular gold-digger around here. The men will not let me pay for anything.

  A brief stop at the Rathaus revealed a costumed girls troupe who were marching and singing. There was a display of historical Nuremberg mementos in the upper level of the Rathaus. Nuremberg seems like a living museum of the Middle Ages. The town is decorated within an inch of its life. On the way home — while I was peering in a shop window — a fellow from Linz approached and asked me to go with him and his friend. It seems that it is quite proper to do such a thing over here, although it is difficult to adapt to being approached like that. Men just come up and ask if you want to go some place with them. Unless you have a good reason to decline, they consider themselves rightly offended! I have developed a little mental list of plausible excuses.

  I was waiting in the hotel foyer at 11:00 when Max came dashing in, wearing a crisp uniform, if you please. He certainly looked handsome, and was thrilled when I told him so. Somehow, Max had secured for me, a ticket to the Hitler Congress! Along with Kurt, we took a waiting taxi out to the Zeppelin Weise, (field) w
here I caught my first glimpse of the huge stadium.

  Picture Below: Helen’s ticket to the Congress (orange)

  I certainly would not have thought it possible, but we drove past all of the guards and police, and there we were — ready to exit our taxi and walk to the stadium! Our shoes became muddy, but we ploughed through it all, finally arriving at a place where we could look down into the enormous stadium. There was a golden swastika on the top of the seating section above the tribunal. Fires were burning in huge pots at either end. I never saw so many uniforms of all descriptions, in my life! We viewed about 80,000 troops drilling on that one day. There were to be different troops marching on each day of the event. Max and Kurt’s group would be reviewed on the following Friday. The thousands of people in the stands were cheering, waving, and shouting “Heil Hitler!”

  There was a most impressive marching ceremony before the Fuehrer arrived! It included all kinds of Companies and all sorts of people. Max, being a big strong, hefty brute, would lift me up when each new group of troops came on the field. I did not miss a thing! There were bands of shirtless male youths called “Jugend,” with spades in their hands. The youths were followed by troops of women, “Frauen” wearing dark skirts and white blouses. I heard that during one moment today, there were 40,000 people on the field and 300,000 in the stands. The cheering was deafening! Max explained to those around us, that I was an American. (In fact, everywhere we went people asked him about my nationality.) Judging from the expression on his face, he never tired of answering those kinds of questions.

  Adolph Hitler arrived in an automobile and after taking his place, he delivered a short but emotional speech. A nearby man handed me his field glasses, through which I got a very clear glimpse of the Fuhrer. Hitler then listened to a thunderous series of heils, reviewed the marching troops, and quickly departed.

  When it was over, we strolled all around the Congress grounds, stopping for lunch at the Marine Building, one of the eating places designated for the troops. The building was teeming with soldiers. We had so much fun there. With great delight, Kurt ordered something for me, which he said was a delicacy. The waitress brought me a bowl of soup with a raw egg just dumped into it! I about died, but it finally went down. (Ugh!) We lingered there for quite a while, watching a floorshow, clicking glasses and eating strange things. The entertainment consisted of songs, music, and acrobatics, but most of my fun was centered on the fellows. I like them both, though Max is my special attraction. I have gone for him in a big way. He is so sweet — but then, so is Kurt. All during lunch, the fellows tried to persuade me to stay over another night, and they kept over-riding my excuses. Max even offered to find me a room, if my cubbyhole was no longer available. My resistance finally collapsed, and he telephoned the hotel to extend my stay.

  Photo Below: Max and Kurt in front of the Maypole

  Photo Below: Max in front of the Maypole

  After lunch, we again explored the grounds, and took some photos in front of the Maypole. The fellows took part in the usual carnival feats and games of skill. Max and Kurt did some shooting, which revealed that they are excellent marksmen! Kurt gave me one of his embossed silver military buttons, and I was really tickled by that.

  Photo Below: Kurt’s uniform button

  In the evening, we dined on schnitzel, potatoes, and vegetables, with brown bread. Dessert consisted of delicious Nuremberg Lebkuchen. The fellows drank beer, and after dinner ordered some wine for me, that I felt obliged to sip. Everyone sitting near us asked where I was from and why I was there. When the soldiers found out that I was from America, they would ask if I knew their Aunt Hilda or Uncle Otto in Chicago or New York. I became quite the expert at clicking my wine glass. After leaving that dining tent, we went to a larger tent building where we sang, linked arms, and danced around the table. Eventually, something I had eaten did not agree with me, for I felt quite ill. The fellows were so sympathetic that it made me like them even more. They walked me back to my hotel, and upon arrival, I felt much better. We sat in the hotel lobby talking and laughing until almost Midnight. Since they had to get up the next morning at 6:00, they departed after promising to return around 10:00 a.m. I hastened to my cold little bed. What a day!

  Date: September 8, 1938

  Place: Nuremberg and Munich

  Weather: Sunny, thank goodness!

  TIMELINE: British Inner Cabinet meets to discuss the crisis involving Czechoslovakia. They consider appeasement as a way of allowing time for British rearmament .

  It wasn’t until I looked at my wristwatch on the way down to breakfast, that I discovered the desk clerk woke me an hour early! I needed that extra time to pack because the fellows arrived a few minutes before 10:00. Incidentally, I am now depleted of the eight packages of cigarettes, I brought from America. Max and Kurt eagerly finished the last pack! After a short stroll, we enjoyed coffee and rolls, then pushed our way through mobs of people, back to the hotel. It is so fortunate that I happen to be in Nuremberg at this time. It is possible to see a cross section of German life that I would never have encountered. People are here from every part of the country — a great many of them in their native dress. The stores are full of picturesque outfits. The girls look adorable, and the men’s hats are adorned with piles of flowers and fluttering feathers.

  After returning to the hotel, we discovered that my bag had been taken to the station, so we wandered in that direction. The fellows bought platform tickets, so they could put me right on the train. We took more pictures with my little camera. How I hope they turn out all right. I promised to write and send my pictures and they did the same. In all too short of a time, the train arrived, and we had the dreadful job of saying goodbye.

  Max and Kurt at the Nuremberg Train Station

  Max removed an emblem pin from his shirt, and gave it to me. I felt very proud, as soldiers certainly hate to part with those.

  Photo Below: 1938 Nuremberg Rally emblem pin from Max

  The train would not wait any longer, and I felt like crying when Max kissed my hand — oh dear! Though it seems to be a custom here, this was the first time that someone had ever kissed my hand. We waved good-bye until they were just specks in the distance.

  Upon arrival in Munich, a porter asked the name of my hotel. He took my bag, however I lost him in the crowd. I finally found out where the hotel was, and sure enough — there sat my bag waiting for me. The hotel manager seems to be the only one who can speak English. Fortunately, my German speaking ability has improved considerably, due to conversing with Max and Kurt. Now I can make my needs known. In addition, my new German pocket dictionary will be of great assistance. It was too late to take any sightseeing trips in Munich, so after consulting with my map and guidebook, I walked all over town. I lingered in Konig Platz, a huge square over-run with doting mothers watching their gaily-playing children. Dinner at the hotel was a solitary affair, and I feel extremely let down, after all the fun of the last two days. The way Munich appeals to me now, I certainly am glad I stayed on in Nuremberg. Tonight, it’s off to bed early, to recover some greatly needed sleep.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Munich to Vienna

  Train Twosome Ends up in Rathaus

  Date: September 9, 1938

  Place: Munich to Vienna

  Weather: A lovely day

  Since I tarried in Nuremberg, I did not spend much time in Munich. After a quick breakfast — it was off again. This day included an eight-hour train ride to Vienna. Among my favorite features of foreign trains are the huge windows, which make it so easy to watch people and scenery. Consisting of one large glass pane, these windows can be raised and lowered with great speed. If you wish, you can stand in the aisle outside your compartment and gaze out of additional windows. When you arrive at a station, you do not carry your luggage off the train and hand it to the porter. You open a window — signal to a porter — then throw your bags out of the window! The trains do not stop for very long. Sometimes there is barely enough of an interlude to
throw your bags out then run and jump out the door!

  I shared my compartment with two old beret-wearing Germans, who both had such large bay windows they could hardly sit down. They looked like they must drink a lot of beer. They also spoke and read French so they must have come from near the frontier. They grunted to each other, read French newspapers, and dozed off, almost resting their heads on their huge stomachs. Craving companionship, I was dismayed at the idea of spending an entire day with these men. Who should enter, but a nice looking German fellow, who sat down in the seat opposite mine. How long did it take for him to speak to me? It took two hours! After the silence was broken, we laughed at the way we had just sat and stared at each other. Hubert said he was the headmaster at a military school in Berlin and he proved to be an interesting person. He spoke English much better than I spoke German, but sometimes we had to resort to both languages. My little English to German dictionary was now a big help.

  Photo Below: Hubert on the train to Vienna

  Whenever the train stopped, we opened the windows and hung our heads out to watch people at the stations. Both the men and women were wearing beautiful native costumes. At one stop, Hubert got off the train and purchased some delightful blue flowers — Alpenblumen — which he said, grew on nearby mountains. The trip was a journey of stunning views, amidst mountains, forests, and lakes. As is the custom here, women were working in the fields. In those fields lay thousands of rocks topped with hay, which was drying in the sun. By and by, we entered Austria, where we stopped briefly in Linz. I sent the city a little kiss and took a photo for Max and Kurt. I certainly wish I could stop thinking of those fellows.