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THE WOMAN WHO LIVED IN HITLER'S HOUSE

by Pauline Kohler

When we reached the Leader's mountain fastness 
after speeding up the narrow private road, which 
was patrolled by S.S. guards every few hundred yards, 
I found that it was not easy to reach the house even 
with a pass signed by Himmler himself. We waited for 
five minutes at the great main entrance while our 
credentials were checked by telephone to Augeburg. 
Machine-gun crews on either side of the drive had 
their weapons trained on us the whole time. When 
we were passed as O.K. we still had to wait every 
fifty yards while elaborate steel barricades were removed.

I was taken straight to the servants' quarters and there 
handed over to Otto Schlieben, the head of Hitler's household 
staff (Paula, the Fuehrer's sister, who is officially 
housekeeper, is really not in control of the servants).

(Kohler-p. 53)

I must never whistle (this, I found, is because the 
Fuehrer hates whistling).

(Kohler-p. 54)

This particular room is sixty feet long by forty feet 
wide. A massive oak table runs down the center. There 
are no lights visible. A soft glow comes from cunningly 
concealed lighting. Four etchings by Durer hang on the 
walls. A vast Persian carpet covers the floor. Later 
on it was part of my duty, together with another girl, 
to lay the table.

(Kohler-p. 58)

The largest window in Germany. covers one entire wall. 
I never could understand why the Fuehrer met his guests 
in this room because conversation is almost impossible 
as it houses his aviary of rare birds. 
....The only time I saw Hitler display any normal 
kindliness and humanity was towards these birds.

(Kohler-p. 58)

They form a kind of penthouse high on the roof. Only two 
people can enter them at any time--Hitler himself and 
his astrologer one Karl Ossiets.

(Kohler-p. 60)

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It consists of two rooms only. One of them is a small 
kitchen, the other an enormous sitting-room of which 
every wall is of glass. Sitting in it must be rather 
like sitting in the center of a bubble. A desk, two 
divans, and a large telescope through which the 
Fuehrer can peer. That is all. It is to this room that 
Hitler goes to brood.  No telephone connects him 
with the outside world. He sits there sometimes 
for hours dreaming and planning new schemes of 
conquest.

(Kohler-p.76)

        The Fuehrer is a late riser, contrary to popular 
belief, and he never breakfasts before ten o'clock. 
Often it is after eleven. He takes a simple meal, 
usually comprising a glass of orange juice, followed 
by a few slices of rye bread and butter.

(Kohler-p. 60)
        
Lunch is Hitler's favorite meal. it begins invariably with 
vegetable soup, of which he manages to get through an 
incredible amount. The recipe may be worth putting on 
record. Here it is: Onion, celery, chopped apple, potatoes, 
turnips, carrots, nut compound, slices of apple, flour, 
water and salt. Soup is followed by fish, for Hitler is 
not a true vegetarian but merely a non-meat eater. He 
has a passion for trout, served with a special butter 
sauce. Saute potatoes usually accompany the fish. Then 
a great bowl of assorted nuts comes to the table and 
the Fuehrer simply stuffs himself with these.

(Kohler-p. 60)

He loathes the smell of tobacco, and he has been known 
to snatch a cigarette from the lips of an unsuspecting 
guest enjoying a quiet smoke on one of the terraces 
when the Fuehrer came across him.

As normal men smoke, Hitler east sweets. he eats pounds 
of them a week. He  is childishly fond of toffee and chocolate. 
A bag of sweetmeats is always in his jacket pocket. I once 
heard him declare to Goebbels, "They give me energy for my 
great tasks, Joseph."

(Kohler-p. 82)

Hitler is completely indifferent to clothes.

For one thing the patterns of the material he chooses are 
dull and suburban.

(Kohler-p. 82)





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The one great peculiarity of the Fuehrer which causes most 
trouble to his immediate circle of colleagues and servants, 
however, is his insomnia. He sleeps extremely little. And it 
is his abiding curse.

(Kohler-p.83)

But the Press secretaries exercized a kind of censorship of 
their own --not for political reasons, but on the grounds of 
prudence. Hitler cannot bear humor at his expense. Cartoons 
in English and American papers send him into violent rages. 
So do the many satirical poems published abroad. The 
English cartoonist, Low, especially enrages the Fuehrer.

(Kohler-p. 84)

He loves Wagner, and the super sentiment and 
[unreadable] of a number of minor German and Austrian 
composers.

(Kohler-p. 87)

From my bedroom window I have often seen the car 
gliding out of garage at midnight. He never drives 
himself. He is far too nervous. But he loves speed. 
His drivers have told me that on these nocturnal trips 
the speedometer rarely drops below sixty miles an hour, 
and often hits the hundred mark.

Hitler's favorite reading, apart from his never 
satisfied study of German history is any book 
about the building of the British Empire. Clive, 
Wolfe, Drake, and men like these seem to be his 
heroes. He is Britain' s greatest admirer, though 
he displays, such contempt for her in public.                                                                   

(Kohler-p. 88)

In his relations with the domestic staff, Hitler is a 
curious mixture. Sometimes he will ignore their 
existence. He has a trick of appearing unaware of 
you in his presence which is very disconcerting. At 
other times he gets into rages over trivialities such 
as the way his room has been tidied or as the amount 
of coffee served to him.

(Kohler-p. 90)

But there are also times when Hitler treats his 
servants almost as equals. Then he will tell them 
that all are comrades in the common task and that 
his cooks are doing their bit as much as his generals.

(Kohler-p. 91)
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Never a week passes without a foreign newspaper 
printing prominently an "authoratative" tale of 
Hitler's illness, physical or mental.

Those stories infuriate the Fuehrer almost as 
much as the foreign cartoons. They are more 
irritating to him because they are all based on truth.

Hitler's health is very bad.

(Kohler-p. 94-95)

At one period the Fuehrer's heart was constantly 
letting him down. He would have to rest for days 
at a time, doing nothing, often when he had tasks 
of great urgency. He has what is called a tired heart, 
and the great strain he continually puts upon it is 
the despair of Professor Knoll.

(Kohler-p. 97)

One thing he cannot bear is sickness in others. 
He has no patience with it and will never see 
anyone who is ill, even a close friend. Signs of 
illness at Berchtesgaden must be rigorously kept 
from his sight.

He has little respect for his own doctors and treats 
Knoll like a waiter. Perhaps it is that in the presence 
of such men that he loses that great sense of being 
a [unreadable] and feels that he is helpless in their hands.

(Kohler-p. 97-98)

Hitler has all the average man's horror of the dentist, 
and he is unfortunately quite often in that individual's 
hands. His dentist is the Berlin expert Hartenstein. 
He has great difficulty with the august patient, who 
screams with pain like any little boy when an extraction 
hurts a little. Yet Hitler will not have gas. He is terrified 
of anesthetics. Only for a very serious operation would 
he permit it.

It is little known that the Fuehrer has right false teeth 
and a number of gold fillings.

(Kohler - p.98)

One of the doubles is always at Berchtesgaden, 
another at Munich, and the third in Berlin, ready 
to proceed to any port of Germany or Austria at 
a moment's notice.

(Kohler - p. 99)

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The room is very plainly furnished with a large 
iron-framed bed, a small side-table, a larger table 
by the big window, an easy chair and a desk over 
which a small bookshelf runs. A small dressing 
room adjoins.

The bed is covered with a great brown quilt embroidered 
with a huge swastika. The Fuehrer, by the way, wears 
surprisingly (for him) luxurious pajamas. They are 
brown satin with darker brown cuffs and lapels. A 
swastika in black on a red background is embroidered 
on the pocket.

(Kohler p. 103)

Hitler hates being touched. He only shakes hands 
when a ceremonious occasion demands it. But 
Goering slaps him on the back--and I think Hitler likes it.

(Kohler - p. 127)

If it were not for his anti-Jewish mania Streicher 
would be a negligible figure. Everyone laughs at him 
behind his back. But he has considerable influence 
with Hitler, largely because he has an apparently 
inexhaustible supply of dirty stories which he relates 
with relish at the slightest provocation. They are one 
of the few things which amuse the Fuehrer.

(Kohler - p. 143)

As i shall presently tell, Hitler grew very fond of one 
Jenny Jugo. And at the same time cast longing eyes on 
a Bavarian woman named Eva Braun.

(Kohler - p. 146)

Hitler suddenly stopped speaking about the books. He 
looked for a few moments at Renate, then stretched 
out his arm in the Nazi salute. He held it steadily for 
several minutes, then dropped it to his side.

 "I can hold my arm like that for two solid hours," he declared.

Renate was too amazed to answer.

But Hitler went on:

"I never feel tired when my Storm Troopers and 
soldiers march past me and I stand at the salute. 
I never move. My arm is as if of granite--rigid and 
unbending. But Goering can't stand it. He has to drop 
his hand after half-an-hour of the salute. He's flabby. 
But I am hard. For two hours I can keep my arm 
stretched out in the salute. That is four times as 
long as Goering. That means I am four times stronger 
than Goering. It is an amazing feat. I marvel at my 
own power."

And with that he turned and walked out of the room.

                                                                                    (Kohler - p. 155-156)

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He promptly bought Jenny Jugo a villa at [unreadable], 
a pretty little village about seven miles from Wiesbsden.

(Kohler - p.189)

The performance was nearly always the same with very 
slight variations. It was a strip-tease act. Hitler declared 
it was art. One Christmas I saw an example of this "art."

(Kohler - p.171)

The second part of the program was a short film starring 
Jenny Jugo.

She entered luxuriously appointed bedroom, She was 
wearing a tweed suit--a form of dress of which the 
Fuehrer strongly approves...

With her back to the camera she stooped and took off 
her shoes and stockings. Her brassiere slipped to the 
floor, then slowly and with a good deal of seductive 
pantomime her panties followed. She turned round 
and faced the camera completely naked.

Then, for ten minutes before getting into bed, she did 
various exercises. I am sorry I cannot describe them. 
They threw a terrible light on the perversity of Hitler's 
sexual desires, and on the mind of the woman willing 
to enact such obscenities.

(Kohler - p. 171-172)

Hitler does, it is true, work spasmodically, but I have 
never known him tired. His periods of inaction have
always been due to one thing alone--preoccupation 
with a woman.

(Kohler - p. 173)

Fraulein [unreadable] is another woman who has 
played and, for all I know, still does play, a tremendous 
part in Hitler's life....

She has nothing to do with the running of the 
establishment. She usually takes her meals in 
the two rooms in which she lives. But she is a 
permanency at Berchtesgaden. She does what 
she likes, goes where she likes, says what 
she likes--unquestioned. I know she often 
spends several hours alone with Hitler. And 
that is about all I do know.

(Kohler - p.181)

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