Page 21 of The German Mother

‘Hitler thought the commissioner was going to rabble-rouse for his cause – support the National Socialist vision – but I think vonKahr got cold feet. Either way, Hitler and his storm troopers broke into the hall, shouting “The German revolution has begun,” and bundled vonKahr into a back room.’

‘I heard about that…’

‘And that wasn’t the worst of it…Göring gave an electrifying speech demanding the end of “Jewish” government in Berlin. He got the audience very riled up, at which point the storm troopers pushed all of us – the correspondents and press – to the front of the hall, and held guns to our heads, shouting “The press are all Jews.”’

‘You must have been terrified, Peter.’

‘I’m not sure we had time to be frightened. One of my colleagues demanded they release us immediately, but Hitler refused. “We waited five years, surely the press can wait,” he shouted. Then the crowd in the hall started singing nationalistic songs and shouting, “What a pity there are no Jews to kill.”’

‘ThePostwas subjected to terrible violence that night,’ said Leila. ‘And my own father – who is a jeweller in the town – was caught up in the mob. His neighbour’s shop was vandalised.’

‘The violence that night was appalling,’ said Peter. ‘I wasn’t surprised it ended with so much killing – of policemen as well as Hitler’s supporters.’

‘People say Hitler will use the death of his men for propaganda – to make martyrs of them.’

‘He will, for sure. The thing is – when you see him in the flesh, he looks so uninspiring. I wrote a piece for theTimesthe day after the putsch, describing him as “overwrought and dead tired, a little man in an old waterproof coat with a revolver at his hip, unshaven and with disordered hair”’.

‘I thought exactly the same!’ said Leila. ‘I saw him that night too, leading the mob, and that’s just how he appeared to me – just a dull little man in an old raincoat.’

‘But be in no doubt,’ Peter went on. ‘That guy has power coming out of his fingertips. When he starts to speak he is mesmeric. And he has the luck of the devil.’

Leila shivered slightly. ‘What do you think will happen at the trial? Will he get off?’

‘I can’t see it. There’s no way he can clear his name completely. After all, people were killed that night. On the other hand, this trial will present him with a platform. He knows everyone is watching and waiting for the outcome, and this will give him exactly what he wants – an opportunity to speak to the world.’

‘So what should we do, as reporters? Would it be best not to cover the trial?’

‘Well, no – I mean, the trial is one of the biggest stories ever. It will sell papers. But it’s how we cover it – that’s what will matter.’

‘But we must simply tell the truth, surely? That’s what is most important.’

‘But which version of the truth, Leila? Hitler’s or ours?’

Leila had arranged to meet Viktor that evening. He had promised to collect her from her office and take her out to dinner. She was sitting on Peter’s desk, deep in conversation with him, when Viktor arrived. ‘Hello there,’ she said, leaping off the desk, ‘is it seven o’clock already? I’d completely lost track of time.’

Viktor stared pointedly at Peter. ‘I don’t think we’ve been introduced…’

‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ replied Leila. ‘Viktor Labowski, this is Peter Fischer. Peter’s from theNew York Timesand he’s over here to cover the trial. Peter – Viktor is a very good friend, and a rather grand publisher here in Munich.’

Peter stood up, and shook the older man’s hand. ‘It’s good to meet you, sir.’

‘You too,’ replied Viktor, before taking Leila’s arm. ‘Darling…we ought to go. I booked a table.’

‘Yes, of course. I’ll get my things.’

Viktor was silent as they walked towards the restaurant, and Leila sensed his irritation. As they were shown to their table, she decided to broach the subject. ‘Viktor – has something upset you?’

‘No, no…’ he replied hurriedly.

‘Don’t be silly. I can see you’re upset. What is it?’

Viktor paused while the waiter poured water into their glasses, and then ordered a bottle of hock. When the waiter had finally left them alone, he breathed deeply. ‘That man – Peter…how long has he worked with you?’

‘A week or so, why?’

‘It’s just…you hadn’t mentioned him before.’

‘Why should I? He’s just a colleague.’