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Russell, William: Berlin Embassy. 1941
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Russell, William: Berlin Embassy. 1941
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Russell, William: Berlin Embassy. 1941
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Russell, William: Berlin Embassy. 1941

On the pretext of showing her (Renate Mueller) the other rooms of the 
spacious Chancellery, Hitler asked her to leave the crowded drawing rooms 
with him. The two came to his private living room, and Hitler sat down 
next to Mueller. She did not feel her heart fluttering in his presence.

She did nothing. She just listened to him as he talked and talked. 
[Unreadable] quite ordinary things concerning which neither she nor 
he could possibly have any interest. But isn't that exactly the method 
of a bashful lover? Renate sat next to him and he talked on and on.

Suddenly he ran out of something to say. There was an awkward paused. He 
eased himself over a little closer to her. She could feel his nearness. 
She did not feel her heart fluttering. He, perhaps?

At any rate, he suddenly got up - no jumped up from the couch, raised 
his arm in the stiff Nazi salute, the salute he invented, and said:
 
"What do you think, how long can I hold my arm up like this?"
 
Renate shook her head. She did not know what to answer the Fuehrer. But 
it did not matter because Hitler told her the answer:

"I can hold my arm like this for hours without getting tired. It is not 
true that I have an apparatus built in my arm sleeve to support my arm, 
That's all nonsense, my dear, all twaddle. I can stand this way for hours. 
And then I think about fat old Goering, I always remember that he gets 
tired after a couple of minutes.

Miss Mueller looked at Hitler standing before her with his arm stretched 
out in stiff salute. "That is really wonderful, mein Fuehrer," she said.

Hitler smiled like a man who had received too much applause. He lowered 
his arm, approached her once more, looked deeply into her eyes, and said: 
"Come, my dear. Let us get back to the guests again."

Another actress told me:

"I was this man's guest for eight days. It was fascinating, he was 
fascinating. Other men look at my mouth, but Hitler only looked into 
my eyes, and when I told him that I was a divorcee, the man nearly jumped 
to the ceiling with joy." This is true, no matter how untrue it may sound.

His appearance in the doorway (of the Green Ship) was enough to freeze 
the good humour of all the guests to below zero. Hitler was the well-known 
"horror guest" in the Schwabing artist' bars; when he appeared, all the 
others disappeared. They did everything possible to protect themselves from 
him, but not because they feared him. On the contrary, Hitler was lean, 
shabbily dressed and practically penniless, but he had one passion which 
never left him - he talked. He talked without interruption, mainly 
about art. No wonder that the flight from his table would begin when 
he came, and whispers of horror could be heard above the clink of beer 
mugs: "Jesus, here comes Hitler!"

Russell, William: Berlin Embassy. 1941. pp. 27.272.273.

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Russell, William: Berlin Embassy. 1941

He likes the artists, although he is not liked by them. But he 
indescribably hates intellectuals - who have much in common with 
artists for reasons which once  more arise in the dim realm of the 
psychological. Before a large group of guests, he once declared 
bitterly that of all the people in Germany he hated only one class - 
the intellectuals.

"These impudent rascals," Hitler snarled. "who always know everything 
better than anybody else, these rascals who grin scornfully at every 
one of the Party's failures and say, 'We already knew that was going 
to happen!' These rascals who only possess their intellect in order 
to play with. Those rascals - I would like to exterminate them like rats, 
even if it means killing ten, twenty or thirty thousand of them. I would 
like to kick them out tomorrow!" Hitler, unclenched his fists and said 
in a quieter voice, "But unfortunately, we need them."

From that time he also has his troubles with the docile German press.

A cultured gentleman write a feature article concerning a visit to the 
headquarters of a German general [unreadable]. Censored three times... 
this article finally found its [unreadable] German press.

Adolf Hitler who otherwise reads very little, sometimes with the clever 
[rest of paragraph unreadable].

There was a terrible thunderstorm over the publication of the article. 
Without it had been well liked and approved by the proper officers and 
Propaganda Ministry officials. For several long minutes, Hitler expressed 
his rage in the presence of his adjutants in unintelligible screams. When 
he managed to get himself somewhat calmer, he shouted as his unfortunate 
companions:

"This miserable writer. What is this skunk thinking of when he attempts 
to glorify the generals? Why does he see fit to even mention their names?
 
"Who won the campaign in Poland? he shouted.

"I did!"

"Who gave the orders?"
 
"I did!"

"Who had all the strategic ideas which made victory possible?"
 
"I did!"
 
"Who ordered the attack?"
 
"Ich! Ich! Ich! Ich!"

"Then this liar comes along and tries to assert that the generals had 
something to say about the campaign. He is instinctless, and stupid."

Russell, William: Berlin Embassy. 1941. pp. 274.275.276.

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Russell, William: Berlin Embassy. 1941

An eye witness at the event told me the following story: The German 
battleship Deutschland...  was bombed... At the ... public funeral... 
Hitler should speak... At the beginning of the ceremony, a German 
admiral spoke, Hitler followed him and spoke to the assemblage ( and 
[unreadable] passionately.

[Entire paragraph unreadable]

Perhaps he spoke too well. Perhaps the visible pain and suffering of the 
surviving relatives lined up before him was too much. In any case, the 
first widow with whom Hitler spoke a few words cried violently. Her 
child, who was ten years old, and who stood next to his bereaved mother, 
began to cry heartrendingly. Hitler patted him on the head and turn 
uncertainly to the next in line. Before he could say a word, he was 
suddenly overcome. He spun completely around, left the whole carefully 
planned program [rest of paragraph unreadable]/

Russell, William: Berlin Embassy. 1941. pp. 276.277

It is well-known that he saw the Merry Widow performed seven time in 
one winter season-an old dusty operetta which had its premiere thirty 
years ago. As I have already noted, he sees every change of program at the 
Berlin Winter Garden.

In dancing Hitler has decided likes and dislikes. For expressionist 
dances like those of Mary Wigman or [unreadable] he has a deadly hatred. 
[unreadable]. Hitler likes dances done only with the legs, a style 
in which American tap dancers excel. If you consider his taste, you 
will not wonder that Hitler saw a young American dancer perform in 
this fashion for times; you will not wonder that he ordered her 
competitor, Marion Daniels, to come to Munich from Marseille by special 
train. You will not wonder that of all the comedians who broadcast in 
Germany, he likes best the bold Manfred  Lommel who, although he was 
formerly an army officer, relates the most stupid nonsense imaginable. 
Yes, Hitler responds most favorably to the light muses in his private 
entertainments.

This man has neverseen [sic] one of Shakespeare's plays. he probably 
never read a line of Goethe. His most exalted artistic activity is 
listening to Wagner.

Russell, William: Berlin Embassy. 1941. pp. 277.278

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Russell, William: Berlin Embassy. 1941.

More than once he has procured Charlie Chaplin films through representatives 
in foreign countries and has amused himself highly over them.

Hitler decides whether Hitler may see non-Aryan movies or not.

It is known that Hitler once saw Pancho Villa, an excellent American movie 
starring Wallace Beery, twice in a row. The film was rough and coarse, but 
filled with manly vitality. Afterward, Hitler said to his attendants: "I 
found this film excellent, but far too good for the German masses."

Russell, William: Berlin Embassy. 1941. p. 279

Since Hitler really has an exceptional memory, he spends hours learning 
by heart the tonnages of the various ships in the British navy; he knows 
exactly what kind of armament, the kind of armor plates, the weight, the 
speed, and the number of the crew of every warship in the British navy. He 
knows the number of rotations of airplane motors in every model and type 
existent. He knows the number of shots a machine gun fires a minute, 
whether it is a light, medium, or heavy one, whether it was made in the 
United States, Czechoslovakia or France.

Even in wartime, his chief activity is the study of details and figures. 
He sits alone in his fabulous office for long, long hours - often the 
whole night through. An expensive magnifying glass lies on his desk, a 
complicated built-in electric lighting system spreads an even glow over 
the desk (Hitler has failing eyesight, and mustwear [sic] glasses in order 
to read); on the surface of his desk are laid enormously enlarged aerial 
photographs which German air force pilots have brought back from their 
reconnaissance flights over enemy territory. Hitler studies their every 
detail over and over. He knows from what height the pictures have been 
made. He knows exactly the difference between the camouflaged trenches 
and the easily recognizable military establishments. He knows exactly 
how the harbor and the port of Scapa Flow look. He knows the entrances by heart.

He knows exactly where in these enemy ports the docks of neutral countries 
lie. Only now and then he summons as specialist, who gives him even more 
details on any subject. Even when he has been studying maps and 
photographs in this ways for hours, he never gets tired.

Russell, William: Berlin Embassy. 1941. pp. 283.284.

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