Book Excerpt

Chapter 12
(partial)

An imperfection on the tracks caused a particularly heavy jolt to the Suddeutschland Express and brought Giselle back from her recollection. She shook her head and looked down at the ornate platinum cigarette case cradled in her hand. The metal case with its beautifully engraved fleur-de-lis gleamed as a ray of Bavarian sunshine glanced through the train compartment window and reflected off its burnished surface.
She slowly and thoughtfully turned the case in her hand to reveal the elaborately engraved initials “V. V.” Velva Violet. It had been a present from one of the Sisterhood members. In fact, all of the sisters had presented Giselle with gifts, tokens of their esteem, and all engraved with the initials “V.V.” Her favorite was a sterling silver necklace containing a beautiful moonstone. The initials were engraved discreetly on the back. It was only too bad that she could not wear it. The danger of discovery was too great.
She now had a full-blown nom de guerre, Velva Violet. How she had exulted in the name, a new identity which brought new opportunity. More importantly, it brought the chance to make a difference in the world. Who could imagine a world-class ballerina literally fighting against the Axis? Who could imagine a woman in 1941 other than in the kitchen?
The name still caused a thrill of excitement to course through her body even though she already was beginning to dread the constant tension, bordering on fear, brought on by her new vocation as espionage agent.
“I must never mention her name. I must never mention her name,” the phrase kept repeating itself in her mind. One slip of the tongue, one wrong move and the game would be up.
She did not want a slip of the tongue to cost her the Sisterhood. What had begun as a simple desire for vengeance and penance for the loss of the Skull of Fate had slowly evolved into a pyramidal organization encompassing old friends and social contacts. Almost single-handedly, she had created a whole new level of espionage in Europe from a broad and divergent group of women.
Much to the amazement of more than a few of the “old boys” in London’s Whitehall as well as back in Washington at the War Department, the Sisterhood had already produced impressive results. She felt pride welling up within her for the successful delivery of the Enigma decoding machine to England and for the defection of Rudolf Hess.
There had been other missions too. The sudden death of a certain foreign minister in Belgrade, a slowdown in the development of Axis rocket science, the loss of vital heavy water in Norway destined for Nazi atomic research and more. All were part of a covert war rarely mentioned in the news headlines.
She gave a slight start and shook her head again. This was no time for complacency. I must be in top shape for this little job, she thought. Little job indeed. This one contact might prove to be the most important Velva Violet might ever make. Danger was now her constant companion since her plan involved a journey into the heart of Nazi Germany.
“But never mention her name,” Giselle repeated to herself as she stroked the cool metal of the case. She knew the American dancer Giselle Tchaikovsky was a well-known performer with connections to the highest social circles. Even though she hadn’t been on the scene in some years, her name and reputation still lingered.
But Velva Violet was another story. She knew that already the name was appearing on dossiers moving between Paris and Berlin. That name was most probably already on Gestapo watch lists. One whisper of the name and the balloon will do much more than go up. Mum’s the word, as they say.
She settled back on the padded seat and gazed out the window at the passing Bavarian countryside.
As the Germans were striving to maintain good relations with an America whose population was still hoping to avoid war, Giselle had encountered no problems traveling to Munich or securing a train compartment. She had told the porter that she was on holiday and wished to travel incognito for privacy. Her ingratiating smile, coupled with a few American dollars, had quickly gained his solicitude and silence.
Now looking out the large window of the speeding train, Giselle found the immediate scenery merely a blur, but it was the horizon that really caught her attention. The Bavarian Alps rose majestically to form a jagged, bluish-gray backdrop to the small villages that dotted the well-maintained countryside. Every movement of her eyes offered a new picture postcard perfect portrait of towering mountains, picturesque alpine villages and dense green forests, all neatly arranged as though pre-planned by some omnipotent landscape artist. She saw the broad blue expanse of the Chiemsee and knew that the train would arrive in Berchtesgaden soon.
Berchtesgaden. She remembered the small vacation town from a visit while on a ballet tour in the early 1930s. Until now, she had fond remembrances of the town, located just 124 kilometers southeast of Munich and initially made famous by the nearby salt mines. She recalled the pleasant well-kept park in the shadow of the twin spires of the 12th century Stiftskirche Cathedral.
Now the little resort town had another reputation --- it had become Hitler’s mountain retreat.
Giselle had learned that additional rings of fortifications were being added to the growing compound on the Obersalzberg, built over the site of the old Haus Wachenfeld.
With the added construction of Hitler’s Berghof, the town’s pre-war population of a mere 4,000 people had swollen to nearly 20,000, some 15,000 of these heavily armed troops stationed there to protect their leader’s retreat.
A bile of fear rose within her. Her mouth was suddenly very dry. Why was she venturing into Berchtesgaden, the beast’s lair?
Unbidden, doubts began to flirt around the edges of her consciousness, hazy mental pictures of arrest and imprisonment. But she shook them off. Hazardous though it may be, this one visit might accomplish more than the entire previous nine months that she had spent constructing her underground organization.
While conquering her hesitations, Giselle noticed the train was slowing. Gradually the foreground of her vision coalesced into a slow-motion panorama of gingerbread cottages and red-roofed chalets.
As the train pulled to a stop in the charming Bavarian station, she saw a large red banner flapping just outside the compartment window. Highlighted against a brilliant white circle in its center was a giant Swastika which momentarily pressed against the glass.
Giselle gave an involuntary shudder at the sight. Screwing up her courage, she gathered up her belongings and moved to the station platform.
Looking about, Giselle suddenly found herself flanked by two tall and muscular young men dressed in the stylish but sinister black uniforms of the SS.
“Fraulein Tchaikovsky?” One of the men placed his hand on her elbow. Giselle noticed the sleeve band that designated the trooper a member of the Liebstandarte-SS Adolf Hitler, Hitler’s personal bodyguard regiment. “Come with us.”
A jumble of thoughts raced through her mind in the few seconds of silence she and the pair stared at each other. Had she been found out? Was she to be arrested? Was this the end of the line for Velva Violet?
Alhough Giselle maintained an outward calm, her stomach was churning at the sight of the black-clad Stormtroopers. One of the troopers suddenly bent over and began gathering up her luggage while the other said pleasantly, “Fraulein Tchaikovsky, I am under orders to escort you to the Berghof. There is a car waiting out front.”
Still unsure if she was under arrest, Giselle decided to play out the scene with confidence. She placed a hand affectionately on the trooper’s arm, partially covering the blood-red Swastika arm band.
“You boys do a magnificent job,” she gushed. “And you are so punctual. Such healthy looking boys.” She gazed admiringly at the SS man, who tried to maintain his military bearing even as his cheeks flushed slightly with embarrassment.
Her poise fully recovered, Giselle quickly turned and marched for the station entrance with the two black-clad troopers hurrying to catch up. In his haste to be courtly, one fumbled clumsily with the door of a big wine-colored Mercedes 230 Saloon parked nearby. The two men took their places in the front seat and, with a low roar of the six-cylinder engine, the big Mercedes quickly left Berchtesgaden behind.
The 3.5 kilometer drive to the Berghof passed quickly. “You must be quite honored to have been selected to protect the Fuehrer,” said Giselle, leaning forward toward the driver. “You must enjoy duty in this beautiful place very much.” She waved a hand vaguely out the car window at the huge dark fir trees they passed.
The square-jawed trooper in the passenger seat said nothing but the round-faced blond driver for the first time smiled and replied, “Oh, yes, madam, it is very beautiful here, especially for a boy from the industrial Ruhr.”
“Perhaps you could show me the sights,” cooed Giselle, much to the driver’s delight.
“Of course, madam,” he answered. With a wide grin, he sat up a bit and straightened his black peaked cap.
Once through the first security checkpoint, he relaxed somewhat and began to act the part of tour guide. As they accelerated past the SS guard post, he pointed to some buildings on their left. “Here is our post office and the driver’s quarters. And the long building behind there is the Autogarage where they service the cars and trucks,” he explained. “And to our right is the barracks which houses the guards. And on the left again is the movie theater and a Kindergarten.”
As the big dark red Mercedes pulled past the barracks, the driver nodded toward a large multi-story wooden home with two balconies that completely encircled the building. “That’s Reichsleiter Bormann’s house,” he said in a reverent tone.
Giselle knew that since the flight of Deputy Fuehrer Rudolf Hess to England Martin Bormann, Hitler’s chief of staff, had become the most powerful man in the Reich. Few people, outside the upper levels of the intelligence community, realized what a power Bormann had become in recent months. No one saw the Fuehrer without going through him.
Just ahead on their left, there loomed the famous Hotel Zum Turken, now headquarters for the security services, Reichssicherheitsdienst and Gestapo. A long column of troops dressed in field gray uniforms with rifles resting on their left shoulders marched along the pavement while several young women dressed in traditional Bavarian dirndls waved approvingly from the stone patio in front of the hotel.
Thanks to her intelligence work, Giselle knew that the main entrance to a vast underground bunker system was located on the east side of the Hotel Zum Turken. She silently hoped that she would never have to go there as dark cramped places gave her claustrophobia. She had heard outlandish tales of dark ceremonies and blood rituals being conducted in cavernous rooms deep within the bunker system.
“And, of course, the famous Berghof villa of our beloved Fuehrer,” said the driver proudly, breaking Giselle’s reveries. She turned and gazed with interest at the sprawling mountain complex. Its large white facade was broken by windows with colorfully-painted shutters and a wide wooden balcony on the second floor shading an enormous picture window on the first.
The Mercedes appeared to be leaving the Berghof complex and Giselle felt her apprehension return. Where were they taking her? Ahead the road passed through a phalanx of tall trees. Glancing between the trees to her right, Giselle saw the unmistakable manicured greens and hole flags of a golf course. A little further on, the large four-door touring car swung off onto a small gravel road which led to a small gingerbread cottage sitting in the center of a circular drive.
As the car rolled to a stop, a slender woman with light brown braided hair came out the cottage door and approached them. She was dressed in a traditional dirndl, complete with short white apron. She was a five-foot, three-inches tall, well-proportioned woman with shapely legs. She was in her late twenties and still quite attractive, thanks largely to a pleasant smile. As the woman neared, Giselle realized her attractiveness stemmed more from her trim, fit figure and healthy tan than from any innate beauty.
The woman’s smile was open and cordial as she beat the SS man to the rear door. Having recovered his military bearing, the driver stared straight ahead while his companion stood at attention behind the woman as she opened the car door.
“Miss Tchaikovsky, I’m delighted that you could make this visit,” she said taking Giselle’s hand.
“Please call me Giselle,” responded Giselle as she watched the effect this offer of friendship had on her hostess. Despite the near-daily parade of the pompous and mighty through the Berghof, Eva obviously was excited to be in the company of a famous American dancer. “And you must be Eva Braun. Clara Petacci has told me all about you.”
Suppressing a slight giggle, Eva looked quickly at the two SS men and whispered, “I hope she didn’t tell you everything. We women must have some secrets.”
Giselle put on her best smile and responded, “She told me just enough to convince me that I must stop in and meet with you, as I am making a tour through Bavaria anyway. I understand that you are a patron of the arts?”
“I am and I must say I’m delighted to meet such a noted dancer,” said Eva with enthusiasm mixed with difference.
“Oh, I assure you the delight is all mine,” replied Giselle in her most humble tone. She knew that a true admirer of creative artists could never resist being shown respect and attention by their icons.
“Oh, I just know that we are going to have a wonderful time together,” said Eva, placing her hand on Giselle’s arm. “But come, I will join you and we’ll retire to a place with more privacy.” She motioned for Giselle to reenter the Mercedes and climbed in after her.
As the SS man climbed back into the passenger side of the car, Eva’s friendly tone changed to the impersonal arrogance of one who is accustomed to obedience from subordinates. “Driver, you will take us to the Kehlsteinhaus.”
“Jawohl, Fraulein Braun,” snapped the driver. The big red Saloon pulled away, its tires crunching on the gravel drive.
Indicating the small cottage, Eva explained, “This is the Bechstein Haus, a guest house for special visitors. It’s small but cozy. Most of the Fuehrer’s guests stay at the Platterhof which is better equipped to host guests accustomed to luxury. Only special friends stay there.”
“I would like to be a special friend to you,” said Giselle bluntly.
Somewhat embarrassed, Eva said quickly, “I didn’t mean you weren’t… I just thought we might have more privacy at the Kehlsteinhaus…” She became even more embarrassed. “I mean, of course I would like for you to be a special friend, it’s just that…”
Giselle smiled at her discomfort. “I quite understand, Eva, “she said in a soothing tone. “You would prefer not to be seen with an American at a time when relations between our two countries are, shall we say, strained.”
Eva smiled sheepishly as though caught in some distasteful act and admitted, “Well, you realize that I have to be very careful about what I do and who I see. I must avoid any circumstances that might reflect badly on the Fuehrer, even when he is not around like now.”
“I quite understand,” said Giselle sympathetically. “Clara explained all. You must be very lonely here on occasion.”
Eva looked out of the car window past Giselle and sighed. “It is difficult sometimes. Whenever important visitors come, especially Party officials, I am not to be seen. Sometimes I could just…”
She caught herself, realizing that this friendly woman also was the citizen of a nation that might soon be at war with Germany.
In a stiff tone, almost as though reciting a learned speech, she added, “Of course, it is my duty to serve my Fuehrer and my Fatherland in whatever manner is necessary. We are all soldiers now that we are locked in a struggle to bring the New Order to Europe.”
Giselle remained silent.
Eva leaned back on the broad leather car seat and sighed. “But let’s not discuss politics. I have been so excited since receiving your letter of introduction from Clara. I am absolutely famished for news of the theater and the arts.
“I recall your name from some years ago. You danced in the Berlin Opera House in the early thirties, didn’t you?”
“Yes, as a young girl,” smiled Giselle. “It’s kind of you to remember.”
“How could I forget,” said Eva with a sparkle in her eyes. “That was about the same time that my boss first introduced me to the Fuehrer. Those were exciting days.”
From her briefing before leaving for Bavaria, Giselle knew that Eva had been an assistant to Heinrich Hoffman, Hitler’s personal photographer. Hoffman was a man quite close to the German leader. In the mid-1930s it had been Hoffman who had convinced Hitler to undergo treatment by his own physician, Dr. Theodor Morell. And Hoffman’s daughter, Henrietta, had a short-lived marriage to Baldur von Shirach, the Hitler Youth leader.
It was Hoffman, along with the ubiquitous Bormann, who had insisted that Hitler receive royalties on each German postage stamp carrying his likeness. The immense wealth accumulated in this manner had provided Hitler with the funds to purchase his retreat at Berchtesgaden.
Giselle kept this information to herself. She did not want Eva to know the depth of her interest or research on her. Giselle also was careful to avoid showing any enmity toward the Third Reich. She merely smiled and nodded during the ensuing inconsequential conversation, awaiting an opportunity to question Eva as to her own personal beliefs.
The afternoon sun was bright and Giselle wished she could remove her overcoat but there was no room to maneuver sitting next to Eva on the leather rear seat of the Mercedes. She sat quietly as the car retraced its earlier drive through the Berghof area. But instead of turning onto the road to Berchtesgaden, the big convertible eased to the right onto a narrow mountainous road marked “Kehlsteinstrasse”.
Conversation waned as the large Daimler-Benz 2.3-liter engine strained to pull the car up the twisting road. Several times, they passed through tunnels cut into the mountainside.
Giselle became totally absorbed with the panoramic view of the Alps and was somewhat surprised when they came to a stop in a circular parking lot. The two SS men remained with the Mercedes. Giselle and Eva walked between two concrete retaining walls which grew in height as they approached a large arched entranceway cut into the side of the Kelhstein peak.
Walking in the bright Bavarian noonday sun, Giselle felt lightheaded. The long journey, the apprehension of arrest and the meeting with Hitler’s mistress were a dizzying combination. Then she remembered the altitude. Their drive had begun at 3,300 feet, then moved in a zig-zag manner up the mountain to more than 6,000 feet. No wonder she was lightheaded, she thought. Smiling, she relaxed and allowed herself to enjoy the scenery, which was quickly lost to sight as Eva led her into the darkly shadowed entrance to a rock tunnel.
The heels of their shoes clicked loudly on the stone floor of the passageway. Giselle noticed that Eva had matched her steps to hers and soon both were marching in unison, as though members of some military unit.
Marching along in the echoing tunnel, it seemed unnatural to speak. Giselle ogled the arched stone block walls and contemplated the woman beside her.
Though seemingly a superficial blonde more interested in film stars than history or politics, Giselle realized there was much more to this woman. She wondered if she should share some of her adventures in South America and Mexico. She decided against it, as the less Eva knew about her, the safer it would be. Giselle was well aware of the brutal interrogation methods of the Nazis. And she knew she could never be entirely certain as to Eva’s true loyalties.
Looking ahead, she saw a small doorway flanked by electric candles. Inside was a glint of golden light which immediately engaged her attention.
With Eva standing to one side smiling and extending her arm in invitation, Giselle entered a large elevator the size of a small room. Lights in a circular fixture inset in the ceiling cast off light that bounced off the highly-polished brass walls creating a golden glow within the elevator. Green leather cushioned benches lined three sides of the space and each women took a separate bench, relieved at the chance for a rest.
Somewhere deep within the bowels of the mountain an engine throbbed to life and the elevator began to rise swiftly.
Looking around her, Giselle shook her head. “This is incredible,” she muttered.
Eva smiled proudly, “Yes, my Fuehrer spared no expense in the construction of what he likes to call his Eagle’s Nest. The tunnel we just passed through is more than 400 feet in length. The road here is only four miles from the Obersalzberg but it passes through five tunnels. It really is quite an engineering achievement.”
“I wish I had brought a camera,” groaned Giselle, admiring the golden opulence surrounding her.
Moments later, the lift reached the apex of the shaft and bumped to a halt. Exiting, the two women entered a large room with long square wooden beams supporting the ceiling. Glancing about, Giselle decided the room looked big enough to house a medium-sized restaurant.
An enormous bright red Persian rug covered much of the floor and situated near its center was a large round table covered with a white cloth. A bouquet of wild mountain flowers in the center was the only decoration. Steam rose from an elaborate tea service. Near the table was a large stone fireplace over which hung an intricate Medieval tapestry.
Giselle noticed the odd assortment of stuffed chairs placed around the table. Several were covered in solid red while others were in different colors and patterns. It looked like an expanded version of any Bourgeoisie living room.
She particularly noticed the number. There were 12 chairs, a sacred number with numerous historical and metaphysical implications. She wondered if it was sheer accident that 12 chairs surrounded the table in Hitler’s most personal place.
The walls were slate gray stone blocks and appeared to be of the same material used to construct the elevator tunnel. Walking to one of the large windows set in a slight alcove, Giselle gave a small gasp at the vista outside.
The Kehlsteinhaus was situated on an outcropping, a narrow finger of rock jutting from the side of the mountain. Behind the building a pathway wound toward the summit in the near distance. The other three sides faced out to a breathtaking view of the Alps, some covered with snow and others with bright green meadows and woods.
“On a clear day, one can see all the way to the Dachstein,” Eva said excitedly, pointing as if she were a tour guide. “Munich is that direction and Vienna is there.”
“No wonder Hitler thinks he’s master of the world,” muttered Giselle with awe. Eva turned and looked at her quizzically, obviously not hearing her words. Deflecting her curiosity, Giselle took her by the arm and gushed, “Oh, this is simply amazing. I feel I’m on top of the world.”
Giselle stood staring out the large window at the mountainous panorama while Eva moved to the center table.
“Won’t you be seated? I had some tea ordered. I’ll pour,” said Eva as she busied herself over an engraved silver tea set.
“I’ll stand for a moment, if you don’t mind,” replied Giselle, taking a slow walk around the large single room. “I need to stretch my legs after that ride.”
“Please make your self comfortable,” said Eva, pouring tea.
After expectant moments looking out the window, Giselle turned and asked, “And where is your Fuehrer? I thought that during the summer months, we would find him here among the beauty of the mountains.”
With no hesitation, Eva replied, “Oh, he is in East Prussia, closeted with the generals. They have been at it for weeks now. It must have something to do with the Mediterranean theater. We seem to be pushing the British back in North Africa but I understand that plans are afoot to evacuate Crete, which is sad after all the heavy fighting there.”
Eva suddenly stopped and glanced at her guest as though she had just spilled some state secret. “Oh, but we decided not to discuss politics,” she said
Seizing the opportunity, Giselle spoke up. “It’s quite all right. I would like to count you as a friend and, in fact, this is the real reason I came to see you.”
“Oh?” asked Eva, arching her eyebrows in wary puzzlement.
“I thought you might be interested to know why your Fuehrer has been spending so much time at his Prussian headquarters.”
“It’s not another woman, is it?” Eva asked, suddenly concerned.
Giselle laughed gently. “No, no, nothing like that.” Eva’s face softened in relief.
Growing quite serious, Giselle sat in a stuffed chair next to Eva. She leaned forward and said bluntly, “Hitler is planning to attack Russia.”
Eva looked shocked. “No. That can’t be. We have a non-aggression pact with Stalin. And besides, der Fuehrer himself wrote in Mein Kampf that it would be suicidal for Germany to ever again fight on two fronts.”
After waiting a moment for Eva to regain her composure, Giselle said gently, “I know it’s hard to believe. Even Stalin will not believe his own intelligence. He’s really going to be caught with his pants down. But, Eva, it’s true. I have this from the highest sources in both Washington and Moscow.”
After a few moments of silence, Eva looked up. “Then the war will spread. It may engulf the entire world,” she said somberly. “This is terrible. This is monstrous. How can he do such a thing?”
Sensing a momentary loss of faith in the infallibility of her idol, Giselle said, “Do you realize that all this is following a plan dictated by the forces that are at work around Hitler?”
Eva sat back in her chair and looked at Giselle in silence.
“Are you trying to get information out of me?” she asked in a suspicious tone.
“Quite the contrary,” replied Giselle soothingly. “I am here to give you information. You are now among the very few people in the world who know of Germany’s plan to attack Russia.”
After another long silence, Giselle added softly, “I am here to enlist your help.”
“My help? Help in what? You are an American. I would never betray the Vaterland!” said Eva indignantly.
“Of course not. No one is asking you to betray your country,” said Giselle quickly. “All I am asking is for you to help save lives, not only in Germany but throughout the whole world.”
“Save lives? I don’t understand,” said Eva. Her features pinched into a puzzled expression.
Getting to her feet, Giselle paced lithely back and forth in front of the large stone fireplace. “Do you understand that there have been forces at play throughout history trying to fragment humanity, separating men from women, the righteous from the unrighteous.”
Eva scowled. “Are you talking about the occult?” she asked, her eyes narrowing.
Giselle stopped her pacing and smiled. “Some people call it the occult. But I’m sure you realize that the word occult only means information that is hidden or beyond the range of common knowledge.”
Eva looked at her shrewdly. “You are speaking of ancient knowledge that has been handed down over the centuries by secret societies.” Her response was really more of a statement than a question.
“Exactly!” exclaimed Giselle, obviously surprised that Eva would exhibit any understanding of such subjects.
Giselle and Eva stared at each other for some time.
Giselle broke the silence by softly saying, “You really do understand about these things, don’t you?”
Very quietly, Eva replied, “I have had access to certain understandings and even documents.
“Addie has spoken on occasion about matters like this,” she added, unconsciously using her familiar name for Hitler. “I used to pay no attention when I was younger because I didn’t understand, in fact, really didn’t want to believe in such things. But that was before I studied the documents.”
“What documents?” asked Giselle, intensely interested.
“The Ahnenerbe SS have been excavating in southern France. They have discovered and impounded some very rare and significant documents,” Eva explained, adding with a conspiratorial smile, “The Fuehrer was more concerned with the political aspects of their work and dismissed these papers as irrelevant. I took some for myself, for they spoke of ancient secrets and reportedly were brought to France by Mary Magdalene herself.”
Giselle stared at her wide-eyed. “You mean the Mary Magdalene of the Bible?” she exclaimed.
Eva’s smile grew. “The very same.”
“I have heard stories…,” Giselle muttered to herself.
Eva placed her tea cup on the small table and sat looking at her companion with a thoughtful expression.
Giselle broke the ice. “You do know something about the ancient sisterhood, don’t you.” It was not a question..
Eva looked at her for a moment and then seemed to make up her mind to confide in her new American friend.
“Do you like our little tea house?” she asked quietly. It was the first time she had even intimated a close connection to Hitler.
“Like it? I love it. What an amazing place.”
Eva leaned forward. “It’s even more amazing than you think,” she said cryptically.
Giselle, expecting to learn some new fact about its construction, replied, “Oh, and how is that?”
Eva sighed and slumped a bit into her stuffed chair. Looking up at Giselle, she seemed like a petulant teenager when she asked, “I guess you know that I have a certain special relationship to our Fuehrer?”
Giselle didn’t know whether to laugh or not. But she decided to err on the side of caution. She simply nodded seriously.
“Oh, everybody knows and nobody knows,” exclaimed Eva, “It’s enough to drive me mad.”
Regaining her composure, she leaned across the table and confided, “My Fuehrer has studied the occult for many years. He was first indoctrinated into the Secret Doctrine while an art student in Vienna before the Great War.
“He became knowledgeable as a grand master architect and used this wisdom from secret societies when he designed the Eagle’s Nest. He used the same dimensions, positions and alignments found on the Giza Plateau to construct the Berghof as a center of power.”
Giselle’s eyes widened. She was stunned. She knew about Hitler’s desire for ancient artifacts, his quest for esoteric knowledge and, or course, the crystal Skull of Fate that Peter had brought him from Central America. But she had never considered the extent of his knowledge or ambition.
“Really?” was all she managed to say in response.
Eva walked to a sideboard and produced a piece of paper. Brimming with excitement, she returned to the large table, she began sketching with a free-flowing fountain pen.
“Look, The Eagle’s Nest is aligned with the Great Pyramid, including its hidden passageways. There are similar passageways in this mountain. The Kehlsteinhaus is the capstone of the tower over the King’s Chamber in the Great Pyramid. The tower itself is represented by the elevator shaft.
“Hitler told you all of this?” Giselle was incredulous.
Eva laughed lightly, “Oh, no. Not in its entirety. But he often has used me as a sounding board, never thinking that I actually might listen to his musings. And he certainly never thought that I would be so stimulated by the energy he has created here in this place. I have been piecing things together on my own and gaining my own power.”
She sat back and folded her arms proudly. Eva appeared elated to finally share her confidence with another woman who actually might understand the strange and wondrous process she had experienced.
Returning to her sketch, Eva drew further lines and said, “There are secret passageways beneath us, one represents the Queen’s Chamber in the pyramid. No one will ever discover it. That is where I have hidden the documents I obtained from the work in France.”
“And who discovered these documents?” asked Giselle. Her interest was intensifying.
“A fellow named Otto Rahn had written extensively about the legends and stories of southern France. He spent some time there researching. I believe he brought back some of the knowledge which was handed over to Heinrich Himmler. Some of it was passed along to me by my friends in the Ahnenerbe SS,” explained Eva.
Ahnenerbe SS! There was that name again, the same one mentioned by Haushofer in Zurich. She had been unable to learn much about the organization, but she knew it was the one link to Peter and the skull.
As casually as she could, Giselle asked, “Have you met a man named Peter von Manteuffel? He’s with the Ahnenerbe SS.”
Eva’s forehead furrowed in concentration. Slowly, she replied, “No, I don’t recall anyone by that name.”
“Never mind,” said Giselle, realizing she had hit a dead end. “Where exactly in France did this Otto Rahn fellow find this knowledge?” asked Giselle. She was intrigued but trying hard not to sound too inquisitive.
“I’m not sure,” Eva said pondering the question. “All I know is that he journeyed to a small village called Rennes-le-Chateau and returned with documents attributed to an ancient and secret society. Addie paid them little attention once he realized they had no strategic value in his conduct of the war. He lost interest in them and that’s when I managed to obtain them for myself.”
“Didn’t the SS want them back?” Giselle asked, trying to draw out the conversation. She desperately tried to think of some way to elicit more information from her hostess.
“They do what I command,” replied Eva haughtily.
Giselle smiled and said, “I’ll bet they do. But tell me more of this SS bunch. It sounds as if they are most efficient.”
“Yes, they are. The Ahnenerbe SS has contributed much to the war effort, more than anyone is likely to know. They are very secretive you know. A man named Hermann Wirth help organize the unit. He has proven most helpful to me. I have learned much from him. Do you know he has documents referring to ancient Atlantis?”
Trying to act uninformed in such matters, Giselle laughed and looked incredulous. “I thought Atlantis was just a myth,” she said blithely.
“The name may be wrong, but from what I’ve learned, there may be much truth to the stories of an ancient and great prehistoric civilization. We are still learning about this,” said Eva in a serious tone. “We have made expeditions to Antarctica, Iceland and even Tibet in search of such knowledge. Dr. Ernst Schafer of the Sven Hedin Institute headed the expedition to the Himalayas. We have learned much from our investigations.”
Giselle thought this information might explain her inability to locate Peter, despite her growing web of agents and contacts. He may have been sent to some secret retreat in a far corner of the world.
Eva was still talking. “The documents Otto Rahn produced from his research in France contain the divine principles of creation written in the language of light, very similar to old runes. Did you know that runes stemmed from ancient Sumerian tablets only discovered in the last century? These elder documents speak of many arcane things, such as the divine seed, the secrets of crystals and stones, energy fields or ley lines, other star systems associated with such energy and even contact with other worlds.”
Giselle realized that this woman was much more educated in esoteric knowledge than she would have ever imagined.
Stilling bubbling with enthusiasm for her subject, Eva continued. “I must tel you that Addie…” This time she caught herself in her familiarity. “..I mean my Fuehrer, is not so knowledgeable as he thinks his is. I have found several references to things he has left out of his occult practices. Either he doesn’t recognize the importance of such things or he was never informed. I suspect the latter. I think that one of his early mentors intentionally withheld vital information.”
“Who was that?” asked Giselle casually while every fiber of her being focused on Eva’s words.
“Well, I am not supposed to know these things but playing the role of a dumb woman sometimes has its advantages.” Eva smiled, then continued earnestly. “You may have heard of Rudolf Steiner, the Theosophist who formed the Anthroposophical Society in 1912?”
The name meant nothing to Giselle yet she nodded in silent acknowledgement.
“He assisted in some of our Fuehrer’s early esoteric education. He developed the concept that humans can access universal truths without the need for the five material senses. Apparently, Herr Steiner did not fully trust him and withheld some important aspects of his teachings.” She gave a short laugh. “He is dead now, of course, but I think that he now would realize his mistake. Clearly, our Fuehrer was destined to know such things, nicht war?”
Giselle again nodded. She was shocked to learn that such intelligent and highly-placed person took such matters seriously. Yet, her own experiences indicated the truth behind philosophies she once considered preposterous.
Realizing the need for caution, Giselle nevertheless could not help but chance the question that was foremost on her mind. “Have you heard anything regarding a crystal skull?” She asked as casually as possible.
Eva looked at her with quizzical eyes that were beginning to harden with suspicion. “Yes, I know about the skull. Why do you ask? How do you know about this?”
Giselle decided her best tactic would be the truth. “I was involved in its discovery,” she said quite matter-of-factly.
She decided to take another, greater chance.
Taking Eva’s hands in her, Giselle looked deep into her eyes, the mirror of the soul. “Since you know so much of hidden knowledge, you must know that once the world was run by a matriarchal system bound in love to the earth and to humanity.”
Without dropping her gaze, Eva slowly nodded.
“Eva, then you must know that it is up to us to stop the carnage that is engulfing the world,” said Giselle softly. “We must help make the world safe for everyone, Germans and others alike.”
Caught between the thinking and feeling sides of her nature, Eva protested, “But, we must have lebensraum, living space, and we must protect the purity of our Ayran race from the sub-humans…”
“That’s just political talk,” said Giselle angrily. “We must look above that and take into consideration what’s good for everyone, not just the Germans, the French, the British or anyone else. Eva, with the attack on Russia and the rising tensions in the Far East, the entire world may soon be engulfed in war. We must do something to stop this.”
“What can we do? We’re not in charge,” she objected. After a moment of silence, Eva shook her head slightly and muttered, “After all, I’m just one person.”
“That is so,” agreed Giselle in a calmer tone. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t make a significant impact on the events and people around us.”
Eva sat quietly, considering her statement.
“Look, we all have our own special talents and abilities. I understand that you like to make your own perfumes,” said Giselle, trying to engage Eva’s self interest.
“Oh, yes,” she responded with some enthusiasm. “I have long worked on developing scents. I enjoy the study of flowers, herbs, certain essences. I’m afraid poor Addie is oblivious to scents. But he has tried some of my preparations just to be kind.”
Giggling like a schoolgirl caught in some infraction, Eva whispered, “I have been particularly interested in a white powder made from pure gold through a heating process mentioned in those papers I obtained from the SS. I mentioned this to Addie but he said he checked with some chemists who assured him there was nothing to it. But I actually had some of this powder produced and slipped it to him once during dinner. The effect was quite noticeable to me although I’m sure he did not realize its true source.”
“There, you see,” exclaimed Giselle, “you are already practicing female alchemy. You can change a man’s attitude and perceptions by the use of elixirs and scents.” Inwardly, she wondered what could possibly produce powder from metal.
Eva laughed. “Giselle, you can change a man’s attitude even more quickly with other tools,” she said imitating the slapping of a whip into her left hand.
Giselle joined in the laughter, thinking to herself this was an important insight into the sado-masochistic relationship between this woman and the German Fuehrer.
Quick to take advantage of this moment of female camaraderie, Giselle offered, “That’s all fine and good, but sometimes you might prepare a potion that will make your man more contemplative, more understanding. You have the power to shift his thoughts toward peace.”
“And if that doesn’t work?” asked Eva absently, still contemplating Giselle’s exhortation.
Giselle looked straight into Eva’s eyes and said seriously, “Then you should consider taking more serious steps. Chemicals can be used for purposes other than making perfumes and aphrodisiacs.”
Eva looked shocked and Giselle realized that she may have overstepped herself. Quickly, she asked, “How do you like Clara Pettaci?”
The question caught Eva off guard and Giselle saw her thoughts shift. “I like her well enough, though I was surprised somewhat to receive her letter mentioning you. I have not seen her since we met in 1937 during Il Duce’s historic state visit to Germany.”
She dropped her eyes. “She is a kindred spirit. We found we were both in much the same situation. We were carefully kept out of sight. But we managed to meet in Berlin. She’s a very interesting woman.”
“You should know that Clara is one of those working for world peace,” said Giselle quietly. Eva looked up.
“Really?” she said with a trace of astonishment. She sat quietly, contemplating.
Giselle decided to allow Eva time to think on her proposal. She reached into the floral arrangement on the table and withdrew two small flowers. She examined closely the two small white woolly flowers, each with several points emanating from a central head. Giselle finally spoke. “This is Edelweiss, I believe. “
“Yes, they are,” replied Eva, adding with pride, “Their tiny blossoms are considered quite a rarity as they only bloom at the highest altitudes of the Alps.”
Giselle handed Eva one of the Edelweiss and said softly, “Remember this, Eva. With worldwide war looming, we may not be able to ever meet again.
“If we ever need to communicate, your recognition sign will be a single Edelweiss. Mine is a single long-stemmed rose. This way we’ll know it came from the other. All of the women I speak of have taken he names of flowers. Their overall symbol is a single red rose.”
Eva smiled, intrigued with the idea of the use of secret signs like some secret agent. “Does Clara Pettaci have a flower code?” she asked.
“She’s the Black Iris,” Giselle said in a quiet but serious tone. Eva’s smile slowly faded as she grasped the implications of such secrecy.
“Giselle , can you stay with me for a few days? There is so much for us to talk about.” Eva asked. Her request was almost a plea.
“Eva, you know I would love to stay with you,” replied Giselle with a sincere sorrow. “But I must get back to Paris as soon as possible. I have responsibilities and commitments I cannot break. I’m sure you understand.” She could not tell Eva that she was impatient to return to Paris to question Charles about this Ahnenerbe SS. It was, after all, her first major lead in finding Peter and taking the powerful skull from Eva’s lover.
Eva smiled and said, “Certainly, dear, I truly understand. Are you certain you won’t have any problem with the border checkpoints?”
Giselle laughed softly. “I shouldn’t think so. An American passport and American cash can still move mountains. We’re not in this war yet.”
Eva nodded silently and soon the women left the Kehlsteinhaus.
The return trip down the elevator and the long walk through the tunnel was uneventful. Eva was deep in thought. Giselle felt encouraged by the meeting and already was entertaining optimistic thoughts of promoting worldwide peace.
The big red Mercedes was still in the parking lot and soon the pair were motoring back down the winding road to the Berghof.
After pleasantries in front of Hitler’s large two-story villa, the women made their farewells. As Eva exited the car, she suddenly exclaimed, “Giselle, wait one moment. I have something for you.” With that she turned and ran up the steps to the house.
Giselle sat musing. She hoped her new acquaintance would find the spirit and strength to aid the Sisterhood in its struggle for justice and peace. She knew that only the purest of hearts would be able to access the highest spiritual knowledge and wisdom necessary to stop the conspiracy of hate. She also knew she must quickly find out about the Ahnenerbe SS and its link to Peter.
As the moments dragged on, doubts and fears welled up in her mind. What if Eva was not the thoughtful person she seemed? What if she had only played Giselle along until she was safe back in the Berghof? What if she even now was calling the guards to arrest the meddling American? She found herself sweating despite the cool mountain air.
Suddenly Eva returned alone. As the driver was putting the Mercedes into gear, she reached through open side of the touring car and handed Giselle a single red rose bud.
Giselle smiled, relaxed on the back seat and mouthed a “Thank you” over the roar of the engine. Quickly Hitler’s home and woman were lost to sight.

Will Eva Braun assist the Sisterhood of the Rose in stopping Hitler’s plan for world conquest? Will Giselle recover the powerful Skull of Fate in time to turn the tide of the war? Will she find Peter von Manteuffel before he discovers the world greatest treasure? What amazing discovery awaits in the fabled French town of Rennes le Chateau?
 
            All these questions are answered in the remaining chapters of  “The Sisterhood of the Rose”.

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