Since Ley, as leader of the German Labour Front, had given Professor Giesler many commissions for buildings, Giesler knew all his weaknesses quite well, and he had noted Ley’s howlers with special relish. ‘I have become more beautiful, and Germany is pleased to see it,’ the Reich Organization leader had once announced to a meeting of workers in the fervent tones of conviction, meaning exactly the opposite: ‘Germany has become more beautiful, and I am pleased to see it.’ When Giesler laboriously uttered such comments in Ley’s own manner Hitler roared with laughter. […] Giesler put on a wonderful comic act. But Hitler must have felt rather awkward, in view of the fact that his Reich Organization Leader had uttered these howlers publicly and as a leading personality, and there was always the chance that other people too might laugh at Hitler’s colleague. ‘Ley is a faithful old Party comrade, and a real idealist. He has created a unique organization. And above all I can rely on him one hundred per cent.’ Such were the excuses Hitler made for him. He showed similar tolerance to other old comrades from the Party’s early days, but failed to show any to the clever folk who ventured to contradict him.
The Reich Stage Designer Professor Benno von Arent[72] from Berlin was often invited to headquarters too. Today it strikes me as really comic that all these gentlemen were called Reich something-or-other and were professors. No wonder we gave the sergeant who exercised the dog the title of Reich Dog-Walker, christened Professor Morell the Reich Injections Impresario, and Heinrich Hoffmann the Reich Drunk. As I was saying, the Reich Stage Designer was one of our party at night, although he really had no business at headquarters while the war was in the middle of its worst phase. All the same, he helped to keep up the strength of the Supreme Commander, which was important war work. Even in the Third Reich, theatre people didn’t wear uniform, but secretly, backstage, leading artists did have some kind of Party or military rank so that they could appear in ‘full dress German uniform’ if necessary. So it wasn’t surprising that Benno von Arent went around in an elegant field-grey uniform with quite a lot of silver braid on it. I must say he was a really charming, amusing, witty man, not a very strong character but fun. Whether he was any good as a stage designer I don’t know, but he was excellent company, and when he and Giesler were together there was so much laughter, relaxation and amusement that I really sometimes forgot Hitler had to wage a merciless war, and the fate of Europe was embodied in him.
Then came 20 July 1944.
I can still feel the oppressive, sultry heat of that day. It made the air quiver slightly, and wouldn’t let us sleep in the hot huts although we hadn’t gone to bed until sunrise. Frau Christian and I cycled to the Moysee, the little lake outside the camp. Lying in the water, we dreamed of peace and quiet. We were half asleep, trying to get some more rest. I had such lovely, soothing thoughts in all that silence. There wasn’t another human soul anywhere, and we didn’t speak to each other until the sun began blazing down right overhead, telling us it was midday. We didn’t know when the conference was to be held, and thought we might be needed before it. So we tore ourselves away from our other world and went back to the busy complex in the forest, at the heart of the war. Apparently the conference had already begun. The cars of officers who had come from other staff bases were in the car park, but otherwise all was noonday peace. All the secretaries were in their rooms. Then, suddenly, a terrible bang broke through the quiet. It was unexpected and alarming, but we often heard bangs near by when deer stepped on landmines, or some kind of weapon was being tried out.
I was writing a letter and didn’t let the bang disturb me. But then I heard someone outside shouting for a doctor in urgent, agitated tones. Professor Brandt wasn’t at headquarters. The voice calling for Professor von Hasselbach sounded distraught and full of panic.
So it wasn’t the bang that suddenly made my heart stand still. As I said, we were used to hearing sudden shots or explosions echoing through the forest. People tested weapons in the forest, there were buildings going up everywhere, the anti-aircraft guns practised firing, and we accepted these sounds as natural. But what had just happened made me terribly anxious. I ran out. My colleagues came rushing out of the other rooms with pale, frightened faces. Outside we saw the two orderlies coming from the Führer bunker with distraught expressions, looking for the doctor. ‘A bomb has exploded, it was probably in the Führer bunker,’ they stammered.
We didn’t know if Hitler was in his bunker or if the conference was still in progress. We stood there like sheep in a thunderstorm, paralysed by terror. Was the terror for our own lives or for Hitler? ‘What will become of us if Hitler’s dead?’ Fräulein Schroeder suddenly asked in the oppressive silence, and that set us all moving. The spell was broken. We scattered wildly in different directions. Fräulein Wolf wanted to help look for the doctor, Fräulein Schroeder went in search of someone who could give precise information. Frau Christian and I ran towards the Führer’s bunker and the hut next to it.
The dense trees still hid the site of the incident from view. On the narrow footpath that wound through them I saw General Jodl and Lieutenant Colonel Waizenegger[73] coming towards me. There was blood all over Jodl’s face and his uniform was torn. Waizenegger’s white uniform tunic showed spots of red too. They were swaying.
Frau Christian ran to meet them, and we were sent back and told not to go any further, because the place was barricaded off. We learned no more. The two officers scarcely heard us, which wasn’t surprising; the explosion had not only concussed them but burst their eardrums.
We went back to our hut. We still knew nothing about the cause of the accident, or its nature and effect. If only we could know what had happened! Was Hitler still alive? We hardly dared ask, but vague ideas of what might happen if Hitler was dead haunted my mind. I couldn’t think straight. Was there anyone among Hitler’s colleagues who could take over as his successor? Himmler, Göring, Goebbels? The idea struck me as impossible. They were just moons who drew their radiance from the sun and had no power of their own to give light. Or was there someone else in Germany, some opponent of Hitler, who might now seize power for himself?
Confused suppositions were going round and round in my head, yet it was only minutes since we’d heard the explosion. At last Otto Günsche passed our window. He must have been at the conference too, but he seemed to be all right and uninjured. We ran to him. ‘What’s happened? Is the Führer alive? Was anyone killed? What caused it?’ He couldn’t answer all our questions at once. ‘The Führer is all right. He’s back in his bunker, and you can go and see him. But the whole hut was blown up. It was an explosive device◦– probably hidden in the floor by the OT people.[74] We don’t know any details yet.’
Curiosity drove us to the Führer bunker. I almost laughed at the sight of Hitler. He was standing in the little anteroom surrounded by several of his adjutants and servants. His hair was never particularly well cut, but now it was standing on end so that he looked like a hedgehog. His black trousers were hanging in strips from his belt, almost like a raffia skirt. He had thrust his right hand between the buttons of his uniform tunic; his arm was bruised. Smiling, he greeted us with his left arm. ‘Well, ladies, everything turned out all right again. Yet more proof that Fate has chosen me for my mission, or I wouldn’t be alive now.’
72
Benno von Arent,