It was my first visit to Berlin to attend a meeting. I learned about the city of Berlin from novels about the Nazis. So when I came to Berlin, I had a desire to see all the places that the novels mentioned. After a night's sleep early morning, I became ready and came out of the hotel with my bag. The meeting is at ten. Before that, I need to have breakfast and see a little bit about the city of Berlin and its historical monuments, including the remains of the Nazi regime. It was a lovely morning. While on the walk through the street, I seemed to be hearing the screaming voice of Hitler's speech from everywhere.
I kept walking down the street looking for a café. Suddenly an old antique car pulled up next to me. Sitting in the driver's seat, a teenage girl in a vintage Nazi uniform poked her head out and greeted me warmly. She was the only one in the car.
"Hello sir, Heil Hitler."
"Heil Hitler…" I greeted her back. I had heard that word of addressing of Hitler's time: Heil Hitler means let Hitler win.
"Today, January 30, 1933, the great FĂĽhrer became Chancellor of Germany. We celebrate this day as Hitler Day. Happy Hitler Day." She held out her hand and smiled.
"Wishing you a happy Hitler Day too," I said shaking her outstretched hand.
"Come with me, let me show you some sights of Hitler's day." She invited me to the car.
She said seeing me hesitating to get into that vehicle. "This is an extraordinary artifact. Do you know what is special about it?"
I shook my head no.
"This is the car in which the great FĂĽhrer drove."
"The FĂĽhrer...?" I looked at her suspiciously.
"Hitler. Germany's hero." She laughed. "Wouldn't you like to take a ride in this vehicle that Hitler drove in? It is an awkward opportunity."
"Where is this trip? I have a meeting today. I'm down for it."
"When is the meeting?"
"At ten o'clock."
"It's seven o'clock. There are still three hours left."
"Meanwhile I need to have some breakfast and then get there."
"Where is this meeting?"
I said the place.
"Okay, I'll drop you there before ten o'clock. On this special day, I will show you some of the untold, unseen things of the great FĂĽhrer. And a nice breakfast with me." She looked at me questioningly.
"I'll come if you drop me there before ten o'clock. I'll have to take a taxi anyway."
"According to the address you mentioned, your meeting is at a resort on the shores of Lake Wannsee. This spot is a little far away from here. I'll drop you there.Â
"Lake Wannsee? The place of the Wannsee conference?"
"Yes." She said with a rough look. "So you know something about Nazi's history?"
"I heard this name in a fun novel about the Nazis," I said excitedly.
"Then come. I'll show you that lake and the historic building on its shores where the Wannsee Conference was held."
Mesmerized by the beauty and her eloquence, I got into the car.
The car moved.
"Your name? Where do you come from?" She turned her face.
"I am Alpesh, Indian. Came here for a business meeting."
"Mr. Alpesh, you are lucky enough to ride in the great FĂĽhrer's car. This is a rare experience of luck. right?" she asked with a smile.
"Yes, of course. Is this Hitler's car?"
"Yes. I am also a fan of Hitler." Happily, she laughed out loudly. Then she asked me. "What do you know about Hitler?"
"I don't know much. Except for some things in history."
"Histories are collections of written lies. Truths are rarely found in it. Most of our histories are lies written by opportunistic men to protect their selfish interests. Did you see any places in Berlin where historical memories of Nazism are sleeping?"
"I came here yesterday. I want to see it all."
"Which novel have you read about the Nazis?"
"A novel called Seventeen Moments of Spring by Yulian Semyonov, a beautiful work of Russian realism. It is a thrilling adventurous story about a Russian spy who infiltrates the Nazi regime's intelligence service and learns their secrets and foils Heinrich Himmler's secret mission to negotiate peace with the Allies during the war without Hitler's knowledge. When I read it, I wanted to see all those places in Berlin that were mentioned in the novel."
"How many days will you be here?"
"One week."
"Then let me take you through this historic land of Nazi heritage."
"Very happy."
Then while driving I asked her something. "Why do you like Hitler? What glory did Hitler have? Destroyed many kingdoms, killed millions of people, is this glory?"
She looked at me angrily.
"Sorry, that's based on what I know," I said scared to see her look.
"How did you know that?" she asked in a dull voice.
"History."
"All history is the lies of opportunistic man. A little bit of truth can be seen in all of it or nothing. That is the history that we have." She turned her face towards me.
I shook my hand without saying anything.
She continued. "Haven't history glorified many who have done the barbarous things you mentioned? Alexander the Great, Genghis Khan, Napoleon, and how many heroes are filled with greatness in history..? These people shook the earth with bloody wars, and butchered people mercilessly. Countries, cultures, and societies have been destroyed in their struggles. War means extermination, where there are only two things: kill or be killed. No war brings peace. So, isn't the etiquette of war, and the war crimes that result when it is broken, really just a slapstick farce? We humans who say these things are not those who do not know that there is no place for politeness and kindness in a destructive war, yet we write such precepts for peace of mind like the gospel of the devil, and talk about the good and bad in war..! What is all this but irony? It is a fact that darkness is darkness and there is no light in it, and there is no peace in the war of annihilation. All wars are products of human selfishness, and pride, while war is not a necessary condition for man's existence on earth. I am one of many who believe that the great Adolf Hitler was a warrior who heard the cries of the war-humiliated German people." She stopped and looked at me sternly. "Now, your rebuttal."
I waved my hand meaning there was nothing to say.
"Don't you know anything about Hitler?"
"Hitler, an Austrian, born in a poor family, fond of painting, fled to Vienna without even completing his schooling when life became difficult."
"Why did Hitler flee to Vienna?"
"That...? To walk around.., right..?"
"Was Hitler a roaming beggar?"
"Seeking a livelihood?"
"Idiot."
"Love..?"
"The ultimate fool." She looked at me angrily and continued. "That artist of Linz went to Vienna to devote his life to painting." Losing her temper, she spoke like a church pastor saying great words in a calm voice. "But the Fine Arts Academy of Aristocrats there trashed the colored dreams of that melancholy artist. Those who think that art is only the expression of naked lust and indulgences, could not find the artistic quality in that artist. But..." Her voice rose, gravely. "But, it was not the cessation of a life, from that depravity, from human scorn, that life was changing and rising as a revolutionary star, a fiery fighter of National Socialism, the fearless warrior who shook the earth, who flew away the isms which humiliated Germany..! There the life of that great man, Hitler, passed from the idle imagination of art to the creativity of human progress. Do you understand who I am now?" she asked,Â
"A fan of Hitler."
"So who is Hitler? Devil or angel?"
"Angel. Yes, the angel." Seeing her fierce expression, my fear came out in my voice.
"This car belongs to that angel." She turned to me. The anger and wildness that showed on her face suddenly disappeared somewhere. Like a dreamy beauty in a fairy tale, her lovely face was radiant with purity, and the grace of divine love filled her gaze. She said in a loving voice, oblivious to the surroundings and lost in some kind of trance.
"This is the vehicle in which my great FĂĽhrer passed through the Brandenburg Gate hearing to the self-satisfied applause of thousands and the eulogies of Heil Hitler. Can you hear the noise of the glorious procession of the Savior..? Just as the worshipers welcomed Jesus as he ascended to Jerusalem, our Savior is uniquely praised and hailed on that street by thousands of worshipers..!"
Her eyes sparkled and her words flowed like sweet songs.
The image of Hitler marching majestically through Berlin's Brandenburg Gate to the applause and cheers of his admirers flashed through my mind. Her voice was heard again in that joy.
"Those lovers, the FĂĽhrer and his beloved Eva united in life and death, drifted in this vehicle through the Bavarian valleys chilled by the snowflakes of the Alps. This vehicle is a witness to the warm breaths of love and the silent love expressions of the heart language that they shed in the garden of love that covers the white blanket by the winter. The scent and warmth of their love still lingers in it." A sigh rose from her. Those lentils looked tender. She continued in a low mournful voice. "But time, which has no obligation to anything, mercilessly erases everything in the gloomy darkness. There they dwell as mourning memories, to give us the nectar of eternal sorrow.Â
The next moment she left the dream and turned her face towards me. A small smile appeared on her cheerful face. "Do you mind having breakfast with me?"
"No objection," I replied immediately.
"Then come on."