V Alexander - The Taster

She wore a simple black dress, but she looked elegant, as if she had dined with the Führer. There was a touch of red on her painted cheeks and her hair looked freshly done. I detected that slight sadness that nearly always lingered in her eyes.

“Magda, isn’t it?” she asked.

“Yes.” I was surprised she remembered me.

“You’re not reading tonight.” She sat down beside me and looked out across the broad expanse. “It’s a lovely evening.”

“Very lovely.” I looked away, in no mood for delicate maneuvering. What did she want?

“We seem to be of like spirit tonight,” she said. “Is there anything I can do to make things better?”

I shook my head. I couldn’t tell anyone, certainly not Hitler’s confidant, what I was going through. I made up an excuse, one I thought she would want to hear. “I miss the excitement the Führer brings to the Berghof. It’s very dull now that everyone is gone.”

Eva nodded. “I’m off to Munich tomorrow to be with my parents and friends. The dogs are coming with me. I don’t suppose I will see Adolf until he comes back in… well, whenever he returns. He is so busy.”

I knew she couldn’t say when Hitler would return. It would be as much a blunder as Karl telling me the Führer was on his way to Rastenburg.

Another SS man appeared on the terrace with Eva’s two Scotties leading the way. She said nothing to him as he handed her their leashes. “Negus, Stasi, sit!” The spunky black dogs did as they were told and sat looking at her with their pink tongues hanging out. The SS man saluted and turned on his heel.

Eva smirked. “They’re so formal. I suppose they have to be.” She paused and then asked, “Do you have a boyfriend?”

I knew anything I’d say would get back to Hitler. If I gave her Karl’s name, it might make it easier for us to see each other; on the other hand, the connection would bond us together for either good or bad. I’d been told that one of Hitler’s private secretaries had married an SS officer because the Führer enjoyed seeing them together. He’d played the role of fatherly matchmaker and the two had eventually given in. I hoped my answer might make things easier for Karl and me. “Captain Weber took me to your showing of Gone with the Wind, and we’ve been on walks and to dances.”

Eva smiled. “Oh, Captain Weber. A fine officer and handsome man. The Führer depends upon him. He would be an admired and respected husband.”

I fought to keep from blushing. “We have no marriage plans. We barely know each other.”

Eva petted one of the dogs and said, “That could change. When the war is over, everyone who served will be honored. Karl and you will have a happy home and many children for the Reich.”

I looked away, wanting to finish the conversation about my private life.

“Wasn’t it horrible about the other taster?” Eva asked.

Her eyes snared me and I knew I must be cautious in my response. I remembered Cook’s words about what to do under questioning. I looked at her and said, “Yes. She must have gone mad to do such a thing. I never suspected.”

“That’s why the Führer has people like you and Karl working for him. We must protect him; otherwise, all is lost.” She smiled, but panic also flashed in her eyes. Perhaps she sensed, or knew, the war was going badly. “Why, even young women are suspect. One was captured and tried in Munich in February for handing out leaflets that maligned the Führer and the Party. A word of advice, Magda—never trust anyone. You cannot be too cautious. Remain loyal—but what am I saying? I know you will be.”

I hesitated, but then asked, “What happened to the woman?”

“Her head was cut off.” Eva gave an uncomfortable laugh, rose from the railing and pulled on the dogs’ leashes. “Adolf despises such nasty business.” She held out her hand. “I suppose it will be a while before we see each other again.”

I nodded and shook her hand; it was cold to the touch. She said good night and I did likewise. The SS man was still in the corner. I wanted to find out if Eva was telling the truth about the woman who had been beheaded, so I decided to ask the officer. My question would be risky, but I reasoned I would get an answer if I told him I was trying to find out for Eva. He had certainly seen her on the terrace with me.

He barely gave me a glance as I approached. Apparently, he was a sentry assigned to look out over the grounds and the SS guardhouse below. He had taken a seat on the stone railing. His shoulders were hunched with boredom; there was little to guard when Hitler was away. Even the skies were clear from threats. A few Allied planes had flown over recently. The air-raid sirens sounded, but no bombs were dropped.

“Excuse me,” I said. “I was talking with Fräulein Braun. She heard about a woman who was arrested for handing out leaflets in Munich. Eva wanted me to find out more about her.” I used her first name to make it sound as if we were friends.

The officer looked at me oddly, as if sizing me up, but answered my question to be rid of me. “Sophie… Sophie something or other. She was tried and convicted of treason, as were her brother and a few other conspirators. They worked for an underground organization. I don’t remember the name.” He stared out over the valley, bored with my intrusion.

“What happened to them?”

He turned, his blue eyes ablaze. “What happened to them? What should happen to all traitors—they were guillotined. That I remember. Good riddance.”

He must have caught the look of horror in my eyes, for he shook his head as if to pity my weakness. He turned and stared at the dark mountains. I thanked him and left the terrace.

That evening as I lay in bed, I longed for Karl and wondered about the young woman who was executed for handing out anti-Nazi tracts. Hitler only accepted blind obedience to the Party. If Karl and I dared step out of line, we would be killed. A terrifying thought struck me: Karl and I have already crossed that line.

The next morning at breakfast, Cook relayed orders that we were to be in Rastenburg in three days. The communication came directly from Hitler. It was a two-day trip by train. I was happy about seeing Karl again, but somewhat surprised that Cook and I had been summoned.

“He likes my cooking,” she said in response to my questioning. “You’ll join the other tasters at the Wolf’s Lair.”

“All of us?”

She shrugged. “It’s not up to us to question the Führer’s orders.” She leaned close and whispered, “I think it has to do with the size of the staff in Rastenburg and the incident here with Ursula. He and Captain Weber are being cautious.”

I imagined the food lined up on a table with each woman tasting a single dish. If one died then another would take her place, perhaps within the hour, like a deadly assembly line. Each death would be counted as a victory for the Führer, a sacrifice for the good of the Reich.

“You may leave after breakfast,” Cook said, and handed me a small gold book with few pages in it. The Reich eagle was emblazoned in black on its front cover. “Keep this with you at all times. It verifies that you work for the Führer.”

I opened it and one of the pictures taken of me in Berchtesgaden stared back. The book stated I was “to be granted all special privileges,” as a member of Hitler’s staff. I was free, under his orders, to travel in Germany, or any territory of the Reich.

I’d been thinking about going home to Berlin for some time because I hadn’t seen my mother and father in months. My job and blossoming relationship with Karl had consumed my time. An extra day away from the demands of the Reich was a gift to be savored. “I’d like to visit my parents,” I told Cook.