Hitler ~ The Secret

By Spencer Ratcliff

It’s Munich 1931.
In a plush apartment in Prinzregentenplatz, Geli Raubal is eight months pregnant and dying. She has shot herself after being ordered to ‘get rid of the child’ by the father, a man the world would shortly know as ‘The Fuhrer’.
With Geli’s last breath, the baby takes his first, sparking the biggest secret of Hitler’s life.
The man destined to lead millions to their deaths and become the world’s most evil dictator, never knew his baby survioved; and Wolfgang never knew who his real father was, though Hitler’s sisters, a Cardinal and three notorious Nazi leaders most certainly did know.
Hess, Bormann and ‘Gestapo Mueller’ hide the boy in a Catholic convent and have a secret tattoo printed under the child’s arm. With the support of a pro-Nazi Cardinal and of Hitler’s sisters Paula and Angela, they hide documentary proof of the boy’s parentage in a crypt in Vienna.
Wolfgang is raised by Catholic nuns and priests, but as war threatens, he is adopted out to a gentle, childless couple who treasure him, but who suffer as they watch him become a Nazi fanatic.
From orphanage to specialist Nazi school; from fighting with the Hitler Youth to imprisonment, Wolfgang evolves into a disturbed, psychotic young man, constantly battling his demons and unwittingly displaying traits of his real father.
At war’s end the fourteen year-old is captured, interrogated and eventually allowed home.
Hess is in prison and considered mentally imbalanced, Bormann is missing but Mueller escapes, determined to recover the vast fortune of Nazi gold and diamonds he’s hidden in Bavarian and Austrian lakes.
First he needs to find the crypt and the evidence of Wolfgang’s true ancestry; then he and his network of former Nazi Commandos must track down and kidnap the fleeing, psychotic Wolfgang to use as their figurehead... for the Fourth Reich.

The novel - which is supported by historically accurate quotes of key characters - examines the thoughts, fears, actions, indolence, complicity and conscience of Germans and Austrians, with particular focus on the pro-Nazi leadership of the Austrian Catholic Church, before, during and after WW2.
It brings to life the distorted minds of many notorious war criminals. It explores the horrors of so-called 'mercy killings' at special euthanasia centres, as well as the slaughter and torture inside the Death Camps.
It brings into sharp focus the question of ‘collective silence and guilt' and climbs inside the terrified minds of anti-Nazi adults and innocent children.
It paints an horrendous picture of the living hell before and during WW2, through the eyes, emotions and tears of naive, pliable children - victims of mass indoctrination and horrific, evil abuse.

Hitler ~ The Secret, is the result of two years of detailed historical research and is part one of a trilogy. It is set in Austria, Bavaria and Italy spanning the years 1931 to 1950. The chronology and all non-fictional characters and personality features are authentic, as are descriptions of the cities, towns and buildings.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Spencer Ratcliff
• Release date: Mar 27, 2011
• ISBN: 9780987106407

Spencer Ratcliff

Spencer Ratcliff was born and educated in England, completing his journalist training in 1970.Then, picturing himself as a re-born Robert Louis Stevenson, he set off for the South Seas in search of adventure. He is still there.His career has seen him live and work in many parts of the world, including Germany and South Africa. Northern Ireland and Rhodesia/Zimbabwe as a war and political reporter; and Australia as the Chief of Staff of a daily newspaper; editor and finally creator, editor and publisher of his own magazine.For the past 30 years he has lived on the edge of Sydney in Australia’s spectacular Blue Mountains.

Book preview

Foreword

The novel is the result of two years of detailed historical research and is part one of a trilogy. It is set in Austria and Bavaria spanning the years 1931 to 1950. The chronology and all non-fictional characters and personality features are authentic, as are descriptions of the cities, towns and buildings.

The book - which is supported by historically accurate quotes of key characters - examines thethoughts, fears, actions, indolence, complicity and conscience of Germans and Austrians, with particular focus on the pro-Nazi leadership of the Austrian Catholic Church, before, during and after WW2.

It brings to life the distorted minds of many notorious war criminals. It explores the horrors of so-called 'mercy killings' at special euthanasia centres, as well as the slaughter and torture inside the Death Camps.

It brings into sharp focus the question of ‘collective silence and guilt' and climbs inside the terrified minds of anti-Nazi adults and innocent children.

It paints an horrendous picture of the living hell before and during WW2, through the eyes, emotions and tears of naive, pliable children - victims of mass indoctrination and horrific, evil abuse.

Chapter 1

For the Last Time, No

Snuggled tightly into the corner of the plush velvet sofa, her head tilted backwards and with her swollen hands clasped firmly over her eyes, Geli shivered and sobbed. The late afternoon sun filtered through the window and bounced with a muted glint of the metal swastika dangling from the pendant around her neck.

Today, it was not just gold. It was cold. Pure 24 carat terror.

The first tear was quickly pursued by another - then another - as she struggled to find the strength she knew she had to muster for the difficult hours ahead.

The pit of her stomach was pulsating, alive with feet and fists and fear.

For more than six harrowing months, Geli’s world had been an insane blend of intense happiness and incredible trepidation.

Outside, she heard the muffled music of Munich’s rush-hour traffic. Inside her head she could hear her mind rattling and her pulse throbbing. She was creating life, yet she was petrified of how her own life would now develop, or unravel.

Moving her head to one side she could suddenly taste the salt as her usually alert, impish brown eyes grew sadder and wetter, sending another tear rolling into the corner of her mouth.

I have to be strong. I must be brave, she reminded herself, nodding her head in agreement. He may just be happy.

The thought immediately delivered a cautious sparkle to her confused cherub face. Her lips attempted a half smile, revealing two lines of perfectly straight teeth.

It wasn’t just her face that was child-like, it was her entire being. She was adorable, utterly vivacious and alive, like a playful naïve kitten that didn’t actually realise how cute and loveable she was. If the electricity failed, Geli’s unique smile would light up any room. Like any light bulb, the warmth she emitted would instantly see her encircled.

Her natural glow could disarm anyone.

She wasn’t a fancy dresser. A typical outfit was a white blouse and pleated skirt. Her eyes, her infectious smile and her pendant were the only jewellery she ever wore. They were all she required.

For the past two and a half years, the well-built, buxom 23 year old with her dark curly hair, magnetic personality and youthful zeal, had been living a bizarre Cinderella existence.

Just a few short years earlier she’d been studying in Vienna. Her father had died when she was just two years old, leaving her mother, Angela, struggling to feed and raise her three children, in Linz in northern Austria. Post war Austria was still a physical and economic mess after the horrors of WW1 with work hard to find.

Her mother’s half brother, Uncle Adi, had come to the rescue many times, but in 1929 as he became more established and financially secure, he offered her mother a job as house-keeper at one of his two German properties. The grateful, deeply religious Catholic family then moved into ‘House Wachenfeld’ in the Obersalzburg, high in the spectacular Bavarian Alps.

After less than a year - a few months before her 21st birthday - bubbly Geli found her world turned upside down when Uncle Adi urged her to move into his sprawling third floor apartment at 16 Prinzregentenplatz in Munich.

From that moment on, she stepped out of the pages of a Grimm Fairy Tale. Her life of poverty became a life of pleasure, pomp and immense pride. Wherever she went the uncomplicated Geli generated joy all around her. She simply oozed natural charm.

In a crazy world of anger and depression, she radiated much longed for simplicity. In a climate of intrigue and fear she inspired, for a brief moment, calm and serenity. In an environment of raw politics and violence she created an oasis of honesty and truth.

The senior public figures that Uncle Adi brought home, all loved her. She brought magical moments of peace and tranquility to her otherwise frenetic Uncle, which in turn made their lives so much calmer.

While millions of Germans battled daily to survive within the crumbling Weimar Republic, Geli understood only too well she was living a delicious life in fantasyland.

Uncle Adi was completely besotted with her; and she with him. He was not only her passport from poverty, he was a man she admired and worshipped. They’d dine together, attend functions together and revel in opera, theatre and musical performances - especially orchestral recitals of Wagner. In social circles throughout Bavaria, they were dubbed the ‘King and Queen of Munich’, a title in which she revelled.

In keeping with her simplistic nature, Geli loved nothing more than to romp with her uncle’s powerful looking but playful Alsatians, ‘Blondi’ and ‘Muck’. When she was on her Uncle’s arm back in the Alps, Geli’s treasured pet Mountain Jackdaw was often her popular party trick as she’d throw open a window and call her bird to fly in.

Everyone loved the Queen of Munich and the Queen of Munich loved everyone and lived life to the full.

Buried not so deeply within all that youthful charm and beauty, there also existed an understandable urge to grow and spread her wings, yet retain all the wonders and privileges she now relished.

Geli had learnt the art of flirtation, but she’d not learnt how to handle her own frequent pangs of jealousy. Her uncle was a much sought-after man; a man of power and influence and a man of determination and guts. She admired all those qualities - but so did other women.

Will he hate me? Geli asked herself out aloud, standing up to stretch her legs and pat her bulging stomach. Oh I’d die if he hated me. He must love me all the more and forgive me for what I’ve done. I’ll explain that I’ve done it all for him…. because I love him so much… and mustn’t ever lose him.

A few slow paces over the deep pile, pale green carpet took Geli to her bed. She was physically and emotionally exhausted as she’d hardly slept the night before after travelling from The Alps back to Munich.

She’d then spent the entire evening talking with her mother about how to handle breaking the news. Little sleep had followed as she’d lain awake tussling with her thoughts and with what she knew would be the most difficult day of her young life.

The feather pillows softly enveloping her face felt like heaven. Geli pulled her legs up to the foetal position and stretched her arms backwards so she could grip onto the railings of the metal bedhead. She’d stopped crying but her cheeks were still wet and her pretty eyes still sore.

"I know he loves me. He’s told me enough times and I’ve done everything he’s ever asked of me," she thought, fighting back a fresh burst of unhappiness and raising her hands skywards as if to seek acknowledgement and approval.

Geli knew full well that not too many people would, if they knew, offer their approval for the secret life she’d led with Uncle Adi for the past two and a half years. In a short while they would know, she reminded herself.

Maybe all her friends and admirers would hate and abandon her? But no, how could they? she argued. They would have to accept the way it was. If Uncle Adi ordered acceptance, then they would have no choice.

Geli had confronted all these issues some seven and a half months earlier, but they were flooding back as the clock ticked closer to her uncle’s expected return.

Her insane world of incestuous love had all started on the night of her 21st birthday - June 4th 1929. After a superb evening of fine food, ample alcohol and a truly unforgettable rendition of Wagner, the chauffeur returned them to the Munich apartment where they planned to listen to more classical music.

As with everything else he did, Uncle Adi had planned it exceedingly well. From his double-breasted jacket pocket he produced a carefully wrapped package of gold paper tied up with gold ribbon. The ever excitable Geli, in her usual juvenile manner, ripped the paper off amid some shrill squeals.

Her darting eyes bulged with expectation as she opened a jewellery box to reveal her special birthday gift from her uncle, who was leaning forward, equally excited, awaiting the final squeal of delight.

I love you forever, she screamed as she pulled the solid gold swastika and pendant from the box and held it up to the light. It gleamed and glistened as did glorious Geli, who jumped and skipped around the room on her tip-toes and bounced up and down on the settee.

A proud and elated Uncle Adi read Geli the inscription on the back, then secured the pendant around her neck. She flung herself into his arms and smothered him with kisses not usually associated with an uncle-niece relationship.

At first, it was like a sudden rush of emotional and sensual waves surging over them. From seemingly nowhere, they found themselves caught-up in a tide of passion that neither had fully anticipated and neither fully understood. At different times as they kissed and clutched, they both attempted to recoil, but the bodies consumed the minds and the resistance of guilt gradually ebbed. Within a few minutes, embarrassment succumbed to passion and lust which threw logic and fear away.

To the sensual strains of Beethoven, Uncle Adi was clutching her intensely and kissing the side of her neck. His hands gripped her buttocks, then her breasts as she found herself overwhelmed with the moment. She was exhilarated as well as mildly inebriated - and she was happy. She was being loved, stimulated and cared for by a father-figure who adored her and gave her the world.

Suddenly, her uncle’s hands were clumsily unbuttoning her blouse and, in the manner of an inexperienced and far too hasty teenage boy, digging at her breasts. After a few awkward moments of much too heavy petting, Geli was a little relieved when her uncle relaxed his ardent fondling and started to gently kiss her excited nipples.

Despite occasional pain, Geli’s own pleasure was immense. It was pleasure of the body and the mind - a mind that didn’t mind as long as Uncle Adi was happy. And he was, very happy.

She could feel his tears trickle between her breasts as he sobbed and sighed with delight and with permission to forget the world for a wonderful while.

Like limpets, they remained pressed firmly together for most of Beethoven’s Pastoral Symphony. It was a strange but very satisfying performance that would lead to many encores on other evenings of lust and love.

As Geli now lay on her bed and re-lived the moment, she felt both a slight dash of conscience and a large gush of excitement. While one hand clasped and fondling her right breast in recollection of that first night, the other reached for the swastika pendant.

Her fingers slid to the reverse and moved along the engraving, as if to read, like braille, To my darling Geli. Happy 21st birthday. All my love. Uncle Adi June 4th 1929.

They were powerful words from a powerful man. They were words that empowered the young lady and words that had driven her to become the witting lover of her mother’s half brother. It was a secret that gave her an authority shared by no-one else in the world. A secret that thrilled not only her body but her spirit, her soul…..her very essence.

For some twenty seven months since that first carnal encounter, she had - whenever uncle was at home - tried to satisfy his often strange sexual demands and teased and tormented him as he stood at his easel and drew her naked form.

Uncle’s sexual appetite and tastes were erratic and somewhat unusual. Seldom could he perform complete intercourse and when he did he almost always left his niece disappointed. So much so that the nubile young Geli - while devoted to her uncle - occasionally took matters into her own hands or took advantage of his absence by discreetly flirting and frolicking with one of her many admirers, including her uncle’s long-time friend and chauffeur Emil.

Rumours circulated about Uncle Adi’s sexual taste and earlier associations with homosexuals, but Geli didn’t care about his past experiments and experiences, just his current ones.

She was genuinely in love with both him and with the knowledge that she could, but didn’t wield.

However about nine months ago she’d felt Uncle Adi’s attention and affection slipping away. He’d not seemed quite so ‘in love’ or interested in her anymore. She’d even heard rumours he’d been showing attention to an even younger woman than herself, called Eva.

It was then she determined never to lose this man, her mentor, her power and her privileged position. She deliberately set about entrapping her uncle’s life and seed, thereby, she imagined, securing her own physical and emotional security and safety. To her, it didn’t matter it was her own uncle with whom she was plotting to sire a child. After all, her own mother’s family had an identical uncle-niece relationship - with children resulting with no-one seeming too concerned or affected.

Seven months ago, when she realised she’d successfully fallen pregnant, she’d confided everything to her mother who had already suspected the physical relationship and who sternly counselled her daughter to ‘get rid of the baby.’ The stubborn, headstrong Geli point blank refused and insisted that Uncle Adi loves me so much that everything will be fine.

With the afternoon sun sinking over the Munich horizon, Geli sat up and pushed herself from the bed, first gently rubbing her unborn baby, and then her eyes. A quick glance at the time sent a fresh shiver through her whole body and once again she clenched her teeth and stiffened her loins in preparation.

"Mum’s worried, but I know it will all be alright, she confirmed to herself. Mum says I can’t hide this any longer. I have to tell him no matter what. If he finds out from someone else, he’ll be furious."

It had been eight weeks since she’d even seen her lover. He’d been so busy, while she’d been back in the Alps hiding her not too obvious baby bump and helping her mother as best she could. Now it was time for truth.

Edging closer to the tall, imposing window, Geli leaned carefully over the writing desk and peered down over the stone balcony towards the street. There, on the other side of the plaza, she saw the familiar Benz pulling slowly to a halt. Uncle Alf stepped briskly out, leant back in through the door to speak with the driver, checked his watch and then slammed the door shut. A quick look at the traffic, he then marched rapidly across the road and towards the foyer of the apartment building that stood proudly at an intersection and dominated an entire block..

The swastika pendant went as cold as ice. Geli began to tremble uncontrollably and once again, she started to cry.

Everything will be alright my beautiful baby. Trust me, she said, steeling herself and looking down at her bloated belly. Daddy will be here in a moment and he’s going to love you so much. You are the best present I can give him.

Lost in thoughts of her unborn child, Geli was startled by a sudden gentle rapping on the door. Just as she spun around on the spot, the soft concerned voice of her mother instantly relaxed her heart.

Geli, are you in there? Can I come in Geli? were the nervous questions. He’s on his way up and I just want to….. She didn’t finish. Geli pulled open the heavy door, threw her arms around her mum and re-affirmed: It will be fine. I’m alright, honestly.

It would be impossible not to deduce that mother and daughter were in fact mother and daughter. Mum was of identical stature and displayed almost cloned hair, teeth and expression Where Geli had soft untroubled skin around her eyes, mother had hard-earned wrinkles, very few of which came from smiling. Yet she, like her offspring, still often managed to exude a natural zest and zeal for life and a smile that belied her predicament.

She was happy by nature, but hurt by life.

Now it was Angela the mother who shed a few tears as daughter composed herself. With her arms around her mother’s back, she could feel her baby moving as her stomach met her mother’s in embrace. Geli gently patted her mum’s shoulder blades, then slowly eased her away and held her at arms distance.

Now go Mum. I’ll come and see you before I go to bed. He’s your brother and you know he’s a good man. You know he loves children, said Geli with a mild sense of urgency and a heavy sense of doubt. Quickly Mum. Please don’t worry.

Angela turned slowly and glanced sadly back over her shoulder to see the vanishing face of her daughter as the door clicked shut.

Her mother’s soft footsteps faded just as heavier more purposeful ones echoed into earshot. Geli, who was leaning backwards against the inside of the door, waited for the feet to stop and the voices to begin, but brother and sister missed each other by mere seconds.

The 32 week old embryo was forcing her favourite full-length blue nightdress to hang more forward than usual. During months of hiding her pregnancy, she had also prepared for this terrifying day and had practised arching her back in order to accentuate the bump, so the baby could actually make its own simultaneous announcement. She was ready - frightened but ready - and so was baby.

The knock on the door was distinctively male and distinctively that of Uncle Adi. While lovers and friends, uncle and niece maintained their own rooms within the sprawling apartment. Respect for each other’s space was paramount and appreciated by both.

Geli threw her head back like a thoroughbred racehorse, produced a smile beyond her own belief and summoned every muscle in her body and every neuron in her mind. She whipped the door open with a fervour that defied and denied all her fears.

The demands of the day were written on Uncle Adi’s frowning brow. His demeanour was that of ire and his dark eyes were a little on fire. Every pore of his stressed face told Geli to move with caution. His tense fingers were gripped around a large box of chocolates and a crumpled magazine, both of which he firmly tossed onto a nearby dresser.

Geli knew the man and his mind exceedingly well. She understood his moods and foibles. More than anyone else, she knew how to distract him from his burdens and defuse the bombs that sometimes ticked within him.

My sweet Geli. Give me a huge hug, he said as he pressed the door closed. I’ve really missed you. I’m sorry but I have only a couple of hours with you as I must fly to Nuremberg later tonight.

Uncle Adi was not tall and was not exactly a classic example of human physique. For a busy hyperactive man, the 42 year old was relatively fit and could meet the exacting demands of his hectic lifestyle. He was always smartly dressed and kept himself impeccably manicured, although sometimes his jet black hair could get a little out of control and fall forward untidily.

Stretching up to welcome him with her lips, the diminutive Geli snuggled into his arms while reaching behind and affectionately holding the nape of his neck. As she smiled her special smile, she was conscious of their baby sandwiched between them. The baby was equally conscious as it fended off the pressure with a gentle kick, making Geli’s mind flash momentarily in fear. Had he felt that? Was this the time? No. He must be calmed and relaxed first, she instantly elected.

You look so tired, said Geli, ushering him towards the sofa. Come and sit down and I’ll look after you.

As he lowered himself onto the soft burgundy coloured cushions, his eyebrows simultaneously raised a little, encouraging his spirits to follow suit.

How have you been my darling girl? How’s your mother? he said a little too sternly, but with generous intent. You look as magical as ever. Oh if only I could stay tonight.

Mum’s fine and I’m…. Geli paused, ….I’m alright,

Though exhausted, he was always easily mesmerised by his effervescent niece. He watched her flit around the living room like a moth as she poured a cup of tea and handed it to him, then pulled a record from its sleeve and began to entrance her uncle with some soothing Johann Strauss.

Geli understood well that the slightly crazy zany world of her uncle could be transformed by classical music. Strings, Strauss and Symphony were the secret recipe to stress relief.

As the music developed, she would watch with immense fascination as he entered a mystical impenetrable realm of his own, buried deep within his psyche. It was like a switch she’d discovered that she could turn on and off when required. Tonight it definitely needed to be in the ‘on’ position.

With each quaver, his persona quivered. Eyebrows knitted, eyes closed and mouth tightened, the face would contort and distort, displaying grimaces of apparent pain which would suddenly yield to expressions of abundant pleasure.

When the music stopped and gave way to the irritating monotonous scratching of the needle - like elastic suddenly released from tension - the face would spring back and gradually settle onto its own anatomy.

Uncle Adi would, for a while, appear either dead or fast asleep. It was not wise to disturb him and he should be left to emerge from his secret world in his own time.

It was in those final chords and its pursuant silence that Geli realised she too had released considerable tension of her own. There may never be a better time than now, she considered, instantly feeling renewed fear pumping into her blood.

Very carefully she eased herself onto the sofa beside him and stroked his forehead, that now look far less furrowed.

In as soft a manner as she could muster, she leant over and whispered into his ear: Do you really love me?

Stretching his legs out before him and pressing himself further back into the velvet, his eyes remained closed as he nodded and offered a generous smile, followed by: Yes Geli, you know I do. I adore you?

Butterflies and baby competed inside Geli’s belly. A throbbing began in her temple and she began, again, to tremble. With her face just six inches away from his, she clasped his head in both hands and took in an enormous breath.

Suddenly, to her own amazement, courage came bursting forth as she said in a far more tranquil voice than she ever would have expected: Darling…..we’re going to have a baby.

Geli had practised that line for months, often, in front of a mirror. Almost always she’d broken down mid-sentence and a flood of tears and fears had followed. Now, in her moment of truth, she felt an overwhelming sense of relief and peace. Everything was now going to be perfect. He would be the happiest man on earth and he would be a devoted father and lover!

Thrusting her arms around him and squeezing his stomach, Geli - wearing the smile of a someone deeply in love - buried her head into her uncle’s chest and waited for his warm words.

No longer in a position to see his face, she was unaware of the horrifying glaze that had instantly clamped onto his shocked eyes. For a full three seconds as he absorbed his niece’s incredible statement, he was speechless. Now, it was not Geli shaking, it was him.

Ripping her clasped hands apart so she could not encircle him, he pushed her aside and leapt from the sofa, turning fiercely back to stare down at her.

What did you say? he bellowed as his eyes narrowed. "We are going to have a baby? he said rhetorically. What are young saying girl? What the hell are you saying?"

As Uncle Adi’s voice, blood pressure and temper flared, Geli’s oh so brief moment of peace and calm was exploded. More fear than she had ever known filled her every corpuscle, every sinew and every bone in her body. She started to shake and cry, uncontrollably.

I thought….I thought you’d be…. happy, she whimpered as she tried to hide in the corner of the sofa while holding her hands over her stomach as if to protect her child. Please don’t be angry with me…..please.

With each weeping word, through the tears she watched her uncle transform from the man that Strauss, Lizt and Wagner could mellow; to a monster who’s stare alone could undermine and rip apart your very soul and spirit.

The powerful man, who just a short while ago had been melted by magical music, was once again changing before her. His eyes seemed hard and remote. His Arctic stare was rigid and seemed to come from a totally dispassionate world.

One moment the eyes were squinting; the next they were so wide they looked like they could fall out. His mouth opened several times, then closed without a single word falling. Next he started pacing across the floor and, with his stiffened arms down by his sides, shook his tightly clenched fists.

Fury was burning within him as he marched up and down, turning sharply after a few paces in each direction. All the time, Geli shivered in cruel anticipation while their baby clenched its own fists and pummelled the inside of her belly.

"Geli….how pregnant are you? How long have you known this? he bellowed across the room. How do I know it’s even mine?

His rage intensified as he spun around and pointed a finger right at her eyes, shouting: You had that thing with Emil…..how do I know it’s not his?

In a crackling whisper and with tears streaming down her face, Geli raised her swollen eyes and replied: "It is your baby Uncle Adi….I promise…..I never had sex with Emil… I’m telling the truth."

Shaking violently she stuttered, "Our baby is over seven months. It could be a boy …it would be your boy, your heir….. you would love him and ……."

She was cut short by an outburst from her uncle; an outburst of growling anger that said nothing yet said everything. Stamping on the floor was not releasing enough rage. Now he started pounding his fists on the dresser, then a small chevonier, and finally the door.

His voice resonating throughout the apartment, he released another tirade of anger and yelled, "You are more than seven months pregnant….and not a word to me before now?"

Geli was still cowering and now feeling quite sick. She could only weep and wonder at what was coming next. She’d not expected such a wild reaction, despite the fact her mother had warned her to. In her simplistic romantic heart and mind, she’d always believed her uncle would, once confronted with the actuality of fatherhood, melt as readily as he did to Mozart.

"You will not have this baby…..you will get rid of it….tomorrow," came the roar as he stood over her, his right arm stretched out and pointing directly at her stomach.

"How dare you do this to me. You know I won’t have children or marry. You know that!"

Beads of perspiration trickled down his forehead almost as fast as Geli’s tears burst down her cheeks. Throwing punches at the air and then at various pieces of furniture, he continued stomping, halting every now and then to stare out of the window and down at the street below.

Managing only slightly to calm himself, he used his handkerchief to wipe away his sweat, then turn once again to stare coldly at his sobbing niece.

As if on a military parade ground, he stood erect with his head straight, his arms pressed against his sides and his feet pointing directly at her. Then, as if reading a proclamation, he dispassionately issued his orders.

"I’m leaving for Nuremberg and I will be away for a few days. Before I go I will instruct your mother to take you back to Obersalzburg to try and have the baby aborted. If that can’t be done then you will go to a convent in Austria until you’ve had the child….. which will then be adopted…and with a different name from yours or mine…..then you can return to live at Berchtesgaten."

Suddenly bending forward to reinforce his message, he added: "You will not keep this baby.….do you understand me Geli?".

While his eyes were filled with anger, hers were clouded with tears. She could hardly see anything. All she could do was listen to the relentless dictatorial voice instructing her to abandon her unborn child.

Tumbling forlornly off the sofa, Geli slumped onto her haunches and tugged at her uncle’s trouser legs, begging: Please please can I keep our baby….please ….you will learn to love it?

No….I will never allow it. It will be sent away to an orphanage….…do you understand me?, came the loud response, "and no-one but your mother must know about this. No-one must ever know that I ….. I am the father ….or that there ever was a baby…alright? No-one. I’m going to speak with your mother immediately."

She was still on her knees, caressing her child and simpering as her irate uncle stormed out of the room and slammed the door. Suddenly, it was wrenched open again as his angry red face looked down at her and re-issued the dictate: There will be no baby. You will get rid of it…. tomorrow you and your mother will go back to Obersalzburg…then to Austria if necessary.

Crawling on her hands and knees, Geli choked as she dripped tears on the carpet en route to the sanctuary of her bedroom. For the next half an hour she lay on her side with her knees up against her belly and her hands above her head, grabbing tightly on to her pillows and pulling them around her face so she could hide from her horrific world.

It was a world suddenly gone mad. Nothing made any sense and nothing could calm her.

From her bedroom next to the passageway she could hear two muffled voices, both raised and echoing around the walls. It was uncle on his way downstairs, shouting back at her mother.

Sort it out Angela, Geli could just discern, "You are as guilty as her. How dare you have kept this from me?"

Now, as she heard her mother crying, she clambered from the bed, jolting her stomach and realised she had a cracking headache. She dashed to the door just as her mum was easing it open.

"I told you didn’t I? You would not listen…and now look, shouted Angela as she wiped her tears away. He’s ordering me to make sure you have the baby aborted Geli…at seven months old!. What sort of doctor is going to do that?"

Despite her own anger, mother clasped daughter to her bosom as the two women wept in unison.

Darkness had fallen outside and the street lights were casting shadows across the intersection. Geli pulled herself away from the embrace and dashed to the bay window. Holding the curtains back with her elbows, she gave a mighty heave to the bottom half of the sash window, pushing it upwards so she could lean out.

Below, she saw her uncle striding furiously towards his Benz, waiting to take him to the airport. With her mother now pressed up behind her and looking over her shoulder, Geli made one final appeal for sanity and for the life of her unborn child. Between the tears and gasps for breath, she screamed out uncontrollably. "Please….please….. please can I keep it…….please?"

From 30 metres away and in shadow, both women witnessed a face of madness as he looked up, pointed resolutely at the balcony and yelled back: No. For the last time, No.

Long after the car had driven off, those word echoed cruelly in their ears and along Princeregenzplaza.

Geli and her mother looked at eachother and squeezed eachother’s hands.

Come and sleep in my room, insisted a very sad mum, "Come on darling. Come with

me. We will go to Mass together tomorrow and pray for an answer to all this."

Geli dutifully followed her mother, doing her very best not to cry and soothing her baby as she walked carefully along the corridors, every now and then running a hand along the wall for balance and comfort.

They both knew it would be a long and tortuous night. Hopefully some sleep would come their way and ease the pressure of the hell in which they now found themselves.

One should not believe that parliamentarianism will be our Damascus…

We come as enemies! Like the wolf tearing into a flock of sheep, that is how we will come

– Joseph Goebbels, 1928

Chapter 2

With Half a Smile on Her Face

Shock had consumed mother and daughter who wept and comforted eachother but who both seemed almost paralysed and unable to talk.

In the darkened corner of Angela’s neat-as-a-pin room, a squat, oak grandfather clock beat almost in time with Geli’s broken heart. With each clunking second, she felt an overwhelming sense of helplessness and despair. At exactly the same moment the pendulum triggered the muffled chimes for ten o’clock, Geli looked up to see her mother slumped onto her side in her chair, mouth slightly open and eyes firmly closed.

Easing herself very slowly from her own armchair, Geli leant over her sleeping mother and gently kissed her forehead. She then tip-toed softly to the door, and in tiny movements, turned the brass knob until she could pull it open. A squeaky hinge startled her but failed to disturb her mother’s slumber.

It was pitch black in the hallway. Only the thin slither of light filtering from under her own door, as well as her hands sliding along the walls, guided Geli back to her bedroom. She wasn’t crying anymore. There were no tears left.

Locking the door behind her, she moved slowly towards her writing desk and sat down. A bizarre calm had descended upon her as she rested, with her head lowered almost onto her chest, studying the beautifully embroidered roses edging her nightdress.

For some time she ran her fingers over the embossed flowers and allowed herself a half smile. Next, she moved both hands to her belly and moved them around to assess precisely where her baby’s head and feet were.

With the most gentle of strokes on her child’s head, she softly whispered aloud, I love you my precious darling. I’m not leaving you.

As if the baby heard her, Geli instantly went into labour, her waters and her mind bursting in cruel harmony. She pushed back in the chair, then rocked forward in pain, her head all but resting on her wriggling child as it began its fight for life.

Geli Raubal reached forward to a small, inconspicuous drawer towards the back of the desk, just behind the inkwell. No tears - just resolution.

I’m not leaving you darling she repeated.

The eerie silence of the final minutes of September 18th1931 was pierced by the sharp crack from a pistol, jolting Angela Raubal from her light sleep and rivetting Anna Winter inside her own room. Only minutes before, Anna, Hitler’s Munich house-keeper, had returned after a pleasant evening out with friends.

Angela leapt from her chair, saw Geli was missing and grappled with her terrifying initial thoughts. An involuntary scream burst from her lips as she flicked on the hall light and raced to Geli’s apartment. There’d been no time to think too much, only to run.

Shouting Geli’s name, she was met in the hallway by Anna who, realising Geli’s door was locked, immediately