Her Hidden Life: A captivating story of history, danger and risking it all for love

I picked up my jacket and left the inventory books on the stand. We walked down the paved road in front of the greenhouses. Karl breathed easier when we got to a safe spot. Below us, the Berghof glowed in the sun.

‘How did it go with the Colonel?’ Karl asked.

I looked at him, trying to gauge the intent of his question, wondering whether I should trust him. There was something about him – a kindness, a willingness to listen – that made me want to trust him, to feel comfortable enough to talk honestly. ‘I answered his questions,’ I said, trying to be non-committal.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a gold cigarette lighter. He fidgeted with it and turned it over in his palm a few times. ‘I’m still trying to give them up.’ He pointed to the lighter. ‘At least it gives me something to do.’ He chuckled and then asked, ‘Did you notice anything unusual about Ursula before you went to the Teahouse?’

I shook my head.

Karl’s face tensed and his gaze narrowed. He put his arm around my shoulder; his face was close to mine. ‘I told the Colonel you knew nothing about the incident yesterday, despite what you may have seen.’

My heart raced.

‘I protected you in every way I could,’ he continued.

‘Why?’

‘Because – ’ He drew away and looked at the lighter in his hand. ‘This is hard for me to admit, but since you’ve come to the Berghof, I’ve been unable to think of much else besides you.’ He turned away, as if he was afraid of what I might tell him.

I put my hand on his shoulder. ‘I’ve thought about you as well.’

He turned, his face flushed. ‘Really? I’m very happy to hear that.’

I laughed. ‘You don’t have to be so formal, Karl. This is as new for me as I suspect it is for you.’ I pulled him to me and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

‘Thank you.’ He looked around. Far up the hill a group of SS officers were walking down from the barracks. Karl took my hands in his. ‘We don’t have much time. I want to share something with you, Magda. It’s important to me. That’s only part of it – there’s much more. It concerns the war. Do you want to know why it’s important to me?’

I nodded.

‘Then I’ll come by your room tonight when it’s safe. You must trust me as I trust you.’ He kissed me. ‘Go back to work. I have to go.’

He walked quickly toward the Berghof as I headed back to the greenhouse. The SS officers smiled and nodded as they passed by.

I knelt next to the cucumber plants and started to count again, but couldn’t help but wonder what Karl had to tell me that was so important. However, more exciting for me was the thrill that lingered from his kiss.

A soft knock on my door woke me at two in the morning.

I pulled on my robe and opened the door a few centimeters. Karl stood in the dim hall, his face ashen in the gray light. His eyes were puffy with dark circles underneath them. He pushed the door open and slipped in through the narrow opening. My room plunged back into darkness. I had gone to bed thinking he wasn’t going to come.

‘Light a candle,’ he said.

‘Are you certain this is safe?’ I asked, aware that it was dangerous for an SS officer to be in my room at this hour. ‘I don’t have a candle. I’ll get one from the kitchen.’

‘Please, but be careful. A guard is on duty outside the entrance. I made up the story that additional investigations regarding Ursula and the poisoning were being conducted under cover of night.’

‘At this hour?’

‘I told him it was of utmost secrecy.’

I put on my slippers and stepped from the room. The Berghof was in blackout; fortunately, I had walked the hall so many times I knew where I was going. Candles and matches were stored over one of the sinks, kept there as accessories for Hitler’s evening dinners. I opened the cupboard like a thief, took them and then crept back to my room. I wondered if the Colonel was hiding under a table waiting to catch me in my nocturnal wanderings. Fortunately, neither he nor anyone else stopped me.

I found Ursula’s ashtray pushed against the wall under her bed, placed the candle in it and lit the flame. A warm yellow light flared outward in a small circle. Karl sat on my bed, his head cupped in his hands. He finally looked up, withdrew an envelope concealed in his uniform jacket and placed it beside him. He motioned for me to sit on the bed next to him.

I did so. Then he kissed me with a sudden warmth and passion.

I didn’t push him away. His lips drifted to my neck where his soft breath sent tingles down my spine. I regained my composure and broke away from his embrace even though I didn’t want him to stop. My heightened emotions made his affection too uncomfortable.

‘What is this about?’ I asked. ‘Why put us both in danger?’

He caressed my face and said, ‘I told you when we met that I recognized something different in you. I still believe that’s true.’

I looked at him, unsure what to say.

He took his hands away. ‘Franz was distraught this afternoon. He could barely answer the questions the Colonel asked him. He lied about his relationship with Ursula. Franz told the Colonel they were only friends. I know they were more than that. He told me so himself – you know how men brag.’

‘Why are you telling me this?’

‘Because you think for yourself and you don’t want the German people to suffer any more than I do.’

‘Of course I don’t.’

‘Tell me, are you in love with Hitler?’

I almost laughed, the question was so ludicrous. I was quick to answer. ‘In love? Not at all.’

‘Do you believe in him and the dream of the Third Reich?’ He paused as if pained by his words. ‘I’m saddened for Germany.’

I thought of my father because Karl’s words were exactly like something he would say. ‘I don’t admire the Führer,’ I said. ‘My father says he surrounds himself with bullies who do his dirty work while he enjoys life. That kind of man earns no respect. I agree with that.’

Karl picked up the envelope he’d placed on the bed, opened it and withdrew several photographs. ‘These are hard to look at, but you need to see them. Hitler is wrong about the war; he is lying about how the Reich deals with Jews and prisoners of war. The lies must be stopped.’ He handed them to me. ‘My life is in your hands.’

I tilted the photos toward the candlelight. The first series showed SS officers shooting naked men, women and children perched atop a ravine. You could even see the smoke erupting from their rifles. ‘Where is this?’ I asked, horrified by what the photos portrayed.

Karl bowed his head. ‘Near the Eastern Front.’

It was shocking enough that our soldiers were shooting unarmed men – but women and children as well?

The second set of photos was even more gruesome and I blanched at the sight of corpses entwined in death. There were so many you could not tell where one body ended and the next began. The photos showed mounds of luggage, shoes and eyeglasses, followed by mountains of decomposing flesh. I was stunned. In the final picture, a naked man lay dead on a slab in front of an opening that looked like the door to an oven. A prisoner – nearly a corpse himself – stood by his side, presumably to make sure the body was cremated.

‘Is this propaganda from the Allies?’ I asked, not wanting to believe what lay in front of me.

Karl shook his head. ‘No, the photos are real. They came from an SS officer at Auschwitz. You must keep what you’ve seen to yourself.’ He replaced the photos in the envelope and slid them back in his jacket. ‘There’s an underground network of officers who believe National Socialism must be stopped – for the good of Germany. We are determined to make sure this happens.’

I didn’t want to hear his words – not because of Germany, but because I was selfish. Karl’s life was in danger. Anyone who defied Hitler was doomed. ‘Only a few men know about this? You’re taking a huge risk.’

Karl nodded. ‘A risk worth dying for.’

I trembled as if an icy wind had raced over me, my body full of conflicting emotions. On the one hand, I recognized my growing attraction for Karl and I admired his strength, courage and conviction. Not every man would place his life in a woman’s hands, or ask that she join him in keeping such a powerful and dangerous secret. The pictures he had shown me were already seared into my memory. What kind of tyrant could order these kinds of deaths? Shouldn’t all of Germany rise up to stop such atrocities? But so few people knew and what use would it be to start a revolution? The Reich, and its powerful officers, would crush anything in its way. Then I pictured Ursula dead upon the ground. She had sacrificed herself for her brothers. How could I dishonor her and Karl by ignoring the photographs? Karl studied me, awaiting my response. Finally, I asked, ‘What do you want me to do?’