V Alexander - The Taster

I walked past several buildings until I reached it, constructed of concrete and stone, low to the ground, although not a bunker. It had windows, and was more pleasant inside than my quarters. Long tables and chairs were lined up in three straight rows. The large kitchen in the back bustled with activity. An orderly opened a double door and gave me a peek at the gleaming stoves and other appliances inside. Minna and Else were nowhere to be seen, but I recognized a man, a cook from the Berghof.

Fruit and oatmeal sat on the hall serving table, so I helped myself and topped them with milk and honey. The men and women at the Wolf’s Lair, like those at Hitler’s mountain residence, were well fed.

I sat by myself at one of the long tables, for breakfast was long over for most of the staff. I was enjoying my food when someone tapped my shoulder. It was Karl.

I wanted to jump up from my seat and kiss him, but he kept his hand firmly pressed upon my shoulder. “Don’t smile or act as if you are friendly with me.” His voice was tight and controlled.

I ate another bite of oatmeal and kept my face forward while he stood behind me. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, too, Captain Weber.”

“Please, Magda, don’t joke. The situation is more dangerous than you can imagine. Meet me at ten tonight by the cinema and I’ll explain.”

“Dora Schiffer is keeping track of us. She seems a strict disciplinarian.”

After a brief silence, Karl sighed and then said, “Oh, you’ve met. Tell her you’re going to the movie and you’ll be back when it’s over.”

I nodded and turned my head to catch a glimpse of him as he strode through the door. I finished my food, took my dishes back to the serving table and left the mess hall. I walked back to my quarters, but couldn’t force myself to go into my room. I sat in the empty library and thought of my father’s words about how Germany was shrinking because of Hitler’s actions. It was true. I felt more and more like a captive, even though I worked for the most powerful man in Europe. I worried about Karl as well. Melancholy shrouded me like an immense dark cloud. I fidgeted in the chair and studied the book titles on the shelves until I dozed into an uneasy sleep. When I awoke, Dora Schiffer was standing in the doorway smiling at me.

“I wish to talk to you about Ursula Thalberg’s poisoning,” she said, and my heart leapt into my throat.

Dora was well acquainted with interrogation techniques. Like the woman in Berchtesgaden who worked for the Reichsbund, Dora asked me every question on a list prepared by the Reich, and also a few of her own. Most of them I’d answered before, but some I hadn’t. She was particularly curious about the relationships I had with the staff at the Wolf’s Lair. I told her the truth, but I did not embellish my answers: I knew Cook and Captain Weber from my work at the Berghof, and many of the kitchen workers who were transferred here to serve the Führer. Dora asked me about Ursula—the second time I’d been questioned at length about my former roommate and her poisoning. She concluded her questioning by telling me I should be wary of Minna. The new taster, she said, was a woman who was out to work her way up through the Reich by finding favor with Hitler—of that, Dora was certain. Any misstep and Minna would find herself out of a job and back in Berlin. After listening to Dora, I believed that Minna could find herself in far worse circumstances than out of a job. Before Dora left, she reiterated her order for me to be at the kitchen before seven, the same one I’d been in earlier in the day.

After she had dismissed me, I returned to my room, stored my things, showered and changed into fresh clothes. Minna and Else were missing, and I wondered if Cook was already instructing them on poisons.

When I arrived at the kitchen, I found the two women sitting against the wall still dressed in the clothes they’d worn on the train. They looked exhausted from their day spent with a cook named Otto, whom I had seen at the Berghof. Hitler liked the way Otto prepared eggs and had snatched him from a sanatorium where he worked. I asked about Cook and was told that she was not feeling well and wouldn’t be working tonight.

Minna and Else said nothing, only stared at me, as Otto set up the dishes to be served to Hitler. The July fruits and vegetables were in season. Most of them had been shipped from the Berghof greenhouses. A steaming egg and potato dish sat at the center of the table. Otto nodded for me to begin. First I smelled the food and then tasted it. I ate fresh cucumbers and tomatoes, green beans and boiled potatoes with parsley before I came to the egg dish. A mushroom sat next to it. I wasn’t sure whether it was poisonous, but I didn’t want my lack of memory or courage to slow my work. I lifted a large spoonful of the egg dish and smelled it. An inviting, creamy scent filled my nostrils; I decided it was safe to eat. It tasted delicious: warm, buttery and fulfilling.

I continued down the line tasting strawberries, apple cake and an iced cake I’d never eaten before. After I was through, Otto took the dishes away, but left the mushroom on the table. As was the case after most tastings, my stomach felt full. I sat next to Else and she gripped my hand. I turned to look at her. Her bead-like eyes flickered with fear.

“The egg dish contained poisonous mushrooms,” she whispered.

I wanted to laugh. How ridiculous would it be for a cook to poison a taster? “He wouldn’t do that .”

“Of course he would.” Minna stared smugly at me.

A few moments later, Dora Schiffer propped her thin frame against the kitchen door. She waved her long arms at Minna and Else and they got up to follow her. Dora returned a short time later and asked, “How are you feeling? You look a little pale.” She towered over me like a tall beanstalk.

“Fine,” I said, beginning to wonder if I had been wrong.

“Remain seated, just to be safe.”

I watched as the staff transferred many of the dishes I’d tasted to serving platters and then took them away for Hitler’s eight o’clock dinner. Soon a sweat broke out on my brow and my heart pounded fiercely. Overwhelmed by nausea, I clutched my chair.

Dora noticed and came to my side. “Something’s wrong,” I told her. I reached for the table but, instead, slipped off the chair onto my knees.

Dora clapped her hands and Otto ran from the kitchen. He leaned over me. “Feeling poorly?” he asked.

“What did you do to me?” I groaned and doubled over in pain.

“I think you’ve learned your lesson,” Otto said. “You should take nothing for granted.”

My head swam in a vicious circle and I retched on the floor, unable to control my stomach. Otto’s round face stared down at me. He seemed more interested in my reaction to the poison than helping. I collapsed in a heap and the world went black.

Aman stood by my bedside when I awoke in the headquarters medical facility. The room blazed with light from the overhead bulbs. I wondered how long I’d been unconscious. My stomach ached and my parched throat longed for water. I blinked and Karl’s blurry form came into focus. He smiled at me piteously and then sat in a chair next to the bed.

“What time is it?” My voice hardly carried above a whisper.

“Almost noon,” Karl said. He handed me a glass of water. “Take a drink—it will do you good. You’ve vomited everything out of your body. They used a stomach pump as well. I came as soon as I heard. I’ve been here all night.” He punched his fist against his thigh. “I should kill that thug for what he did to you.”

I sipped the water. The cool liquid soothed my throat.