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In The Living Age- Sept. 1933

from the New Statesman and Nation, 
London Independent Weekly of the Left.

The first time I heard the name of Adolf Hitler 
mentioned was shortly after the end of the War, 
when a man named _Franz Xavier Huber,_ a war 
veteran  who had had a leg shot away before Verdun 
in 1917, told me stories of curious fellow who had 
been in his regiment at the front. He was a garrulous 
chap, and sitting in that same Buergerbrau Keller in 
Munich where in 1923 Hitler took his first plunge into 
revolutionary activities by firing off his army revolver 
at the ceiling and declaring the morrow would see him 
victor or dead, although it saw him neither the one nor 
the other, but unscathed, a helter-skelter fugitive in 
the Bavarian hills, he used to tell tales tragic and 
humorous of his campaign experiences.
The thing that had struck him about 'Private Hitler' was 
his grandiloquence. He was neither popular nor the reverse 
with his fellows; they just smiled at him and his vague, 
rambling speeches on everything in the world and out of 
it. He acquired very swiftly the reputation of being what 
in the British Army is called 'an old soldier'. That is, he 
showed distinct talent in avoiding disagreeable tasks, 
but he knew on which side his bread was buttered. He 
interested himself particularly in the important question 
of seeing that the officers' washing was done or doing it 
himself. This secured for him the good graces of the 
colonel, who removed him from the more constant danger 
of the trenches and appointed him runner between 
regimental headquarters and the front line.

These duties brought him frequently in contact with the 
men and he would sit for hours in a dug-out and hold forth 
on socialism, of which it was evident he had only very hazy 
notions Old Social Democrats used to laugh at him. but no 
one debated seriously with him. He could not brook 
contradiction and used to fly into terrible rages if anyone 
ventured a word of dissent. Though he got the Iron Cross 
of the second class, no one in the regiment ever looked 
upon Hitler as any sort of a hero; indeed, they rather 
admired him for the skill with which he avoided hot 
corners. The regimental records contain not a line 
concerning an award of the Iron Cross of the first class 
to Hitler, though in latter years he had taken to wearing 
it prominently on his self-constructed uniform.

p 44, Living Age- September 1933- Hitlers Salad Days; by W.W.C
From the NEW STATESMAN AND NATION, London independent Weekly of the Left.

In those days in Munich I lived in the Thiersh Strasse...and 
I frequently noticed in the street a man who vaguely 
reminded me of a militant edition of Charlie Chaplin, 
owing to his characteristic moustache and his bouncing 
way of walking. He never wore a hat, but always carried a 
riding whip in his hand, with which he used incessantly to 
chop off imaginary heads as he walked. He was so funny that 
I inquired from neighbors who he might be; most of them, 
woing [sic] to his Slav type, took him to be one of those 
Russian emigres who abounded in Germany at that time, 
and they freely talked of his being probably a trifle mentally 
deranged. But my grocer told me it was a Her [sic] Adolf Hitler 
from Braunau in Austria, and that he was leader of a tiny 
political group which called itself the 'German National 
Socialist Workers' Party.'. He lived quietly enough as a 
boarder in the apartment of a small artisan, wrote articles 
for an obscure paper calledthe [sic] Voelkischer Beobachter, 
and orated in hole-and-corner meetings before audiences of 
a dozen or two. His closest friend was a Russian

00010699.GIF  Page 2

in the Living Age Sept. 1933

emigre from the Baltic provinces, a certain Herr Rosenberg, 
who was joint owner of the paper. Out of curiosity I bought 
the paper once or twice...My obliging grocer closed his 
information on Hitler by remarking that he frequently 
purchased things in his shop and was, despite his eccentric 
appearance, quite a pleasant fellow, though inclined to talk 
sixteen to the dozen about anything and everything.

Some time later I became a frequent customer of a little 
wine saloon in the Schelling Strasse, called the 'Osteria 
Bavaria'. ...Hitler was an almost daily visitor; he had, I 
learned, been a house painter in his early days in Vienna, 
but he was rather sore on the subject, and posed as an artist. 
He was very fond of airing his views on art and architecture 
which, however, were not taken seriously by any of the artists 
who frequented the place.

Hitler was often accompanied by one or two friends who, I was 
told, were members of his little political. The most sensible of 
the band was a chemist named Gregor Strasser, a very sound 
fellow with whom I often spoke. Hitler's closest friend at that 
time, however, seemed to be an ex-army captain named Roehm, 
who later ... while his friend Baldur von Schirach....

One thing that struck me about Hitler was his extreme 
abstemiousness. He ate every night a dish of vegetables, 
and mineral water was his only drink. He never smoked....

Sometimes instead of regaling us with chaotic speeches, 
Hitler would sit for hours on end in front of his mineral 
water, staring into space, not uttering a word, and 
apparently quite oblivious to his surroundings. If on these 
occasions someone suddenly addressed him, he would start  
as if out of sleep, and stroke his forehead with his hand 
several times before coming back to reality.

p (?)- Living Age- Hitlers Salad Days- by W.C.C. Sept. 1933

..Apart from politics and art, Hitler's chief topics of 
conversation were Italy and clairvoyance. He had never 
visited Italy, but had apparently read a great deal about 
it, and he would sometimes talk for half an hour on end 
about the glories of ancient Rome and the greatness of 
the Caesars. There was something about his talk that 
made one think of the prophets of the Old Testament; he 
spoke as if he believed himself to be inspired. The only 
thing that dispelled the illusion was his frequent use of 
words that are not found in the dictionary of a cultivated 

One day I remember that a man came in who, for the price 
of a plate of soup, read hands and told fortunes. Hitler retired 
with the soothsayer into a corner and spent a whole hour with 
him in earnest conference. When he got back among us, he turned 
with anger upon a student who had made a slighting remark about 
clairvoyance, and launched out upon an eloquent defense of 
occultism of every kind, and especially of Stein-schneider who 
had taken to himself the name of Hanussen, and consulted him frequently.

However.. the incident (of Hanussen's mysterious death after 
Hitler's rise) does not appear to have shaken Hitler's faith in 
astrology, and one of Hanussen's chief revals [sic], a man named 
[unreadable], had been appointed by Hitler 'Federal Commissary 
for Occultism'. This, I believe, is the first time in modern ages 
that a state has officially recognized soothsaying and turned it 
into a government department.

00010700.GIF Page 3

HITLERS SALAD DAYS- Living Age - Sept. 1933-
by W.W.C.-London,

Hitler was not without devoted adherents in the Osteria Bavaria'.
Some students after a while became seized with a sort of hero 
worship regarding him, and hing [sic] on to every word he said 
with wrapt [sic] attention. But there is no doubt that his chief 
admirers were the two waitresses, buxom Bavarian wenches who 
listened open-mouthed to him and danced attendance on him in a 
way that formed the subject of many jokes among the habitues of 
the place. Hitler's relations with women indeed are a strange and 
obscure chapter. I saw a great deal of him at that time, and I can 
certify that he was in these matters as abstemious as in regard 
to food and drink, The only women he seemed tocare [sic] for at 
all was the lady to whose villa in the hills he fled after his inglorious 
collapse in November 1923. He used to correspond with her a great 
deal and spent frequent week-ends at her place. Lately he is said 
to have fallen in love with Winifred Wagner, but I can hardly 
imagine the Hitlerof [sic] 1921 in love.

Another thing that struck me was the man's utter incapacity to 
deal with important details. When he spoke of Italy, or the German 
race, or occultism, or the Jews, his talk was a succession of vague 
generalities, couched in attractive if flowery language, but 
showing in every case either complete ignorance or at least 
complete contempt for detail. .....

...But I will say this, as a result of these long evenings spent 
with him; he was, and probably still is, passionately, almost 
ferociously, sincere in all he says and does, even when it appears 
hypocritical and insincere.

London Independent Weekly of the Left.

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