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Bauer grabbed his watch. It was only three minutes after nine. It was too early—

He peeked through the window, looked through the fog. He couldn’t see well, but well enough.

The armored car stationed at the rear exit was doing a three-point turn. It was turning around to leave.

Hitler’s speech was concluded? Impossible! Hitler never spoke for less than two hours at these events.

He grabbed his radio. “Berta, this is Anton, over.”

“Anton, this is Berta, over.”

“What’s happening? Is the speech over?”

“Over? How could it be over? Let me look. I’m a few kilometers down the street. I don’t see the motorcade leaving.”

“The armored car at the emergency exit just left.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Neither do I. Keep me posted.” Bauer didn’t know what was going on inside that beer hall. There could be any number of reasons why the crowd was engaged in sustained applause. Maybe Hitler was introducing the other officials present like Goebbels and Göring, and it was one continuous applause line. Or maybe—

But then the applause began to subside, and Bauer could no longer hear it. He listened intently, eyes squeezed shut. Then his radio squawked again.

“Anton, the motorcade is leaving.”

Bauer grabbed his watch. It was 9:07 p.m.

“No!” he cried, throwing down the watch. “No!”

The bomb detonated on time, at 9:20 p.m. on November 8, 1939. It caused a partial collapse of the roof of the Bürgerbräukeller Hall and left a mountain of rubble. Seven people died and over sixty were injured. But not Adolf Hitler or his top aides, who had all left the beer hall just thirteen minutes earlier.

It was due to the fog. Hitler was preparing for the invasion of France and had wanted to fly back to Berlin the next morning. But the fog would prevent air travel, so Hitler changed plans and prepared to travel by private train to Berlin. So he’d moved up his speech by half an hour and had limited it, uncharacteristically, to one hour.

Later, while on the train, Hitler was informed by Joseph Goebbels of the bombing and the attempt on his life. “Now I am completely at peace!” said the Führer. “My leaving the Bürgerbräukeller earlier than usual is proof to me that Providence wants me to reach my goal.”

98

September 1940

Berchtesgaden, the Berghof

Bavarian Alps

“THIS HAD BETTER WORK,” Thomas Bauer said to Erich von der Haas, as they stood at a table over a large map of Obersalzberg, a region outside Munich and the location of the Berghof, Hitler’s retreat in the Bavarian Alps. “Do we even know he’s here?”

“He’s here, Bauer,” said von der Haas.

“How do you know?”

“Two things. Before he arrives, they fly the big swastika flag from the flagpole on the carpark in front of the Berghof, his chalet. The flag is flying right now.”

“And what else?”

“Wherever Hitler goes, so goes the Führerbegleitkommando. Several of his security detail were seen at the tavern at the Hofschaffner Inn in Berchtesgaden last night. He’s here in Obersalzberg, Bauer. He’s staying at the Berghof.”

Nearly a year after their last attempt at the Bürgerbräukeller, Hitler’s influence and power were at their zenith. Over the last several months, Germany had rolled through much of western Europe, invading, defeating, and occupying Belgium, Denmark, Norway, the Netherlands, Luxembourg—and, most notably, France. The Germans had just begun aerial bombing of England, targeting its large population centers—mostly London—and military and industrial facilities. The new prime minister, Winston Churchill, was pleading with the United States for intervention.

“Fair enough.” Bauer leaned on his hands, looking over the map. “Show me.”