Page 135
119
THE DRINKING FINALLY ENDED in the wee hours of the morning. Erich sat on the floor against the wall nursing a bottle of beer.
“I said I was sorry,” Thomas said.
“We had her,” von der Haas said. “We had her right there. She was about to take me down to see the portrait in Hitler’s private office. I was in. And then you had to spill a drink all over her dress and bolt out of the room.”
“I had no choice. I didn’t even know Müller was in the bunker until I saw him.” Bauer sighed. “Sorry, pal. Sorry I screwed things up.”
“If I were you, I’d have done the same thing. Except I probably would’ve killed Müller, not shot him in the foot.” Von der Haas waved him off. “But we’re screwed now. You’re lucky she didn’t have us thrown out of here.”
“I’ll make it up to her,” said Bauer. “I’ll apologize.”
“If we even see her again.” Von der Haas threw the bottle down on the ground, smashing it into pieces. “It’s over. I’m going to sleep.”
He pushed himself up and past Bauer toward the dormitory where they’d thrown their bags.
“What about our bet?” Bauer asked.
120
April 29, 1945
Führerbunker
JUST AFTER MIDNIGHT, REGISTRAR Walter Wagner sat in the war room of the Führerbunker in his gray uniform with black collar and black Volkssturm armband, across from Adolf Hitler and Eva Braun, with Martin Bormann and Joseph Goebbels on either side of the couple.
“I come now to the solemn act of the marriage,” said Wagner, his voice trembling from nerves. “In the presence of the witnesses, I ask you, mein Führer Adolf Hitler, if you are so willed as to enter wedlock with Fräulein Eva Braun. In this case, I request that you answer with Yes.”
“Yes,” said Hitler, who had just turned fifty-six and was dressed in full uniform.
“Now I ask you, Fräulein Eva Braun, if you are so willed as to enter wedlock with our Führer Adolf Hitler. In this case, I request that you answer with Yes.”
“Yes,” said Eva, age thirty-three, wearing a white satin dress.
After the brief civil ceremony was concluded, the newlyweds celebrated with their guests, essentially the highest-ranking members of the government still present in the Führerbunker. They had tea and cake and sandwiches, and sipped champagne. Even the Führer had a few sips.
“It’s the least I can do for her,” Hitler told Goebbels privately before the couple retired for the night.
A few hours later, at breakfast in the Vorbunker, which consisted of nothing more than stale bread and small packets of butter and weak coffee, the news of the marriage spread quickly. But it was no more than ten minutes before the topic returned to: When would Hitler kill himself, and should they kill themselves, too?
“I hear he’ll do it tomorrow, April 30, at 1500 hours,” said a woman named Doris, who was a secretary for Bormann. “Unless the Russians breach the bunker before then. But they don’t expect that to happen.”
Von der Haas and Bauer looked at each other. That gave them just over thirty hours.
“I’m going to keep the cyanide capsule in my mouth, in my cheek,” said one soldier. “If I think I’m okay, I won’t use it. But the moment I need to, I can bite down on it and…” He gestured to his throat in a choking motion.
“But could it dissolve?” asked another soldier. “Could the capsule start leaking the cyanide?”
“Um, I don’t think so, no. I think you have to bite it.”
“You think?” The second soldier laughed. “Frider, you better be more certain before you execute this brilliant plan.”
“I heard they check,” said one of the women. “The Russians check to see if you have cyanide on you. They sweep your mouth.”
“Did you guys hear about Mussolini?” said a third soldier. “He tried to escape Italy, but they caught him. They executed him and his mistress and hung their corpses upside down from meat hooks in the Milan town square so people could desecrate their bodies.”
“Where did you hear that?”
