Fury From Within

Chapter One

Adolf Hitler shuffled into the bunker corridor-half bent, dragging his left foot, the left arm shaking uncontrollably. Although he was 5 foot 8 inches tall, now, with his head and body twisted to the left, he looked much smaller. The eyes that his admirers had once called “magnetic” were feverish and red, as if he had not slept for days. His face was puffy, and its color was a blotchy, faded gray. A pair of pale green glasses hung from his right hand; bright light bothered him now. For a moment he gazed expressionlessly at his generals as their hands shot up and out to a chorus of “Heil Hitler.”

The corridor was so crowded that Hitler had some difficulty getting past everyone to reach the bunkers small conference room. Slowly, as though in pain, Hitler scuffled to his place at the head of the table. He motioned for those about him to sit before turning to the colorful maps that were spread out on the table in front of him. He managed a slight smile as he anxiously tapped the maps of his ever shrinking empire.

His hands trembled as he shuffled his notes, deciding it best to lay them on the table. He knew the Russian threat had to be taken seriously. They were at the very edge of Berlin itself. As he was about to speak, there was a loud commotion in the hall and the vast bulk of Goering filled the doorway of the little conference room. Pushing his way in, Goering heartily greeted those present, pumped Hitler’s hand vigorously and excused himself for being late.

He then addressed Hitler: “My Fuhrer,” he began, “What you have asked of me a fortnight ago has been accomplished.” He smiled about the room as if a child who had just pleased his parents.

Hitler suddenly came to life. He pounded on the table in front of him. “Faith!” he yelled. “Faith and a strong belief in success will make up for all of your inefficiencies!” He looked about the room as if 10 years younger than when he entered. His face now crimson, the gray since vanished, his eyes vibrant once more. “Field Marshall Goering has brought me the best news of the war.” He turned to his generals assembled about the small table. “I will tell you,” he yelled, if you are conscious of the fact that this war should be won, it will be won! If your troops are given the same belief — then you will achieve victory, and the greatest success of the war!”

In the tense silence that followed, Hitler dismissed all about him but Goering, motioning for him to stay. Goering nodded before closing the room’s door. Now, just the two of them stood face to face about an empty room.

Hitler took the seat at the head of the table; Goering took a chair beside him. It was remarkable the change in Hitler’s health, if just for the moment.

“My Fuhrer,” Goering began, “I can still have you flown out within the hour. We don’t have long before the whole city is surrounded. You can go to Bavaria and bring our new weapon to our engineers. They have been working for years to achieve our miracle. They only lacked the material to set the bomb in motion. In a matter of days they could have a working prototype ready for use against our enemies, one that could destroy whole cities with a single blast! It must be you, My Fuhrer!”

Hitler shook his head. “No,” he said meekly, “I have made my decision to stay. I shall not leave Berlin. I will defend the city with my troops to the end. Either I will win the battle for our Reich’s capital or I shall die as a symbol for the Reich.”

Goering thought his decision was madness. “I must insist,” he said to Hitler, “you must leave for Berchtesgaden within the hour.”

Hitler refused to hear anymore. “I want you to fly to Berchtesgaden, but not before our two guests arrive,” he yelled at Goering, before leaving the room.

A ½ mile from the Bunker, along the East-West Axis — the broad highway running from the river Havel on the west to the Unter den Linden on the east — a plane suddenly swept in and landed, maneuvering up to the Brandenburg Gate. It was a small Fieseler Storch piloted by General Ritter von Greim and a well-known German Aviatrix named Hanna Reitsch. The two had been summoned to Berlin by Goering and Hitler.

Goering knocked once on the door leading into Hitler’s private quarters before entering. As he entered he saw Hitler sitting in a chair facing a painting of Fredrick the Great; he was having a one-way conversation with the painting. He cleared his throat before announcing: “My Fuhrer, they have arrived!”

General von Greim and Hanna Reitsch were escorted into Hitler’s private quarters. Hitler beamed as he gracefully took Hanna’s hand, kissing it softly before releasing it. He curtly nodded to General von Greim. “I have a mission for you that could help save Germany,” he said before providing them the details. Ten minutes later they were escorted back to their awaiting plane and a heavy metal suitcase was placed in its rear. “It’s our new Wonder Weapon,” said the soldier in response to their disapproving looks.

Their plane never arrived at its Salzburg destination; crash landing somewhere within the Soviet Army lines. Its case disappearing for some 30 odd years….