Once I discussed this with Ada Klein. When I mentioned Hitler’s remarks about meat eaters she recalled an incident at Easter 1926 when she visited a matinée of the Zigeunerbaron in the Gärtner-Platz theatre. Afterwards they ate at the Café Viktoria in the Maximilian-Strasse opposite the Thierschstrasse (now the Restaurant Roma). Hitler ordered kid liver. The waiter brought a giant portion. Hitler asked: ‘Is that the liver from one kid?’ The waiter replied: ‘No, from two!’ At that Hitler remarked to Ada: ‘The human is an evil animal of prey. Two small innocent animals were deprived of life to provide a glutton with a gourmet dish. I believe I shall become vegetarian one day.’ After Geli’s death he actually did convert and never tired of holding forth from time to time during meals on the brutal methods of slaughter. When Eva Braun then gave him a pleading look to not go on about it so at the meal table because it put many guests off their food listening to the discourse, this confirmed the correctness of his opinion.
On the other hand he would go into almost poetic rapture whenever he described how his own vegetarian meal had been grown. The farmer sweeping the seed fan-wise from his hand in that great gesture with his arm as he bestrode his fields; how the broadcast seed fell to earth, sprouted and grew into a green sea of waving stems turning slowly golden yellow in the sun. ‘This picture alone’, he believed, ‘should tempt Man back to Nature and her produce, which is given to mankind in wasteful fullness.’ He would always round off by saying that he did not intend to convert anybody to vegetarianism, for if he did in the end nobody would accept his invitations to dine any more.
He would often recall the meals he enjoyed most as a child. These included bread rolls with meatballs and sorrel sauce, which his mother used to make. Marion Schönmann, a native of Vienna very often the guest of Hitler and Eva Braun at the Berghof, once joked that she would make some for him. Next day wearing a chef ’s white outfit she caused uproar in the kitchens, set the staff in high dudgeon and created an awful mess, the result of which was meatballs as hard as iron. Hitler, who enjoyed getting the better of his female compatriot, did not miss this opportunity of berating her much-vaunted skill in cooking, and suggested she should use her recipe to defend the turreted castle she owned near Melk on the Danube. Years later he still relished retelling the story of Frau Schönmann’s meatballs.
When the diners rose, he would always kiss the hand of Eva Braun first, and then that of his female partner at table. During the meal Eva Braun took little part in the conversation, at least in the earlier years. Later when her self-confidence grew she would talk if she felt so inclined. She would allow her impatience to show if at the end of the meal Hitler embarked on one of his favourite topics instead of rising. In the war years when her influence on Hitler was more certain she would even go so far as to cast looks of disapproval in his direction or ask in a loud voice what the time was. Hitler would then quickly abandon his monologue and rise from the table.
Until the war, on his walks on the Obersalzberg which led to the ‘small tea-house’ on the Mooslahner Kopf, Hitler would wear a ghastly khaki windcheater, far too long and several sizes too big for him, and a nondescript hat with a wide brim to protect his sensitive eyes. This hat was the curse of the photographers, for it only allowed them to get a shot of the lower half of his face. Eva Braun, very conscious of appearances, would often criticise his clothes, but he ignored her. Only if she repeated her criticism too often, and he saw it as a criticism of his taste would he let his annoyance show. When Eva once spoke disapprovingly of his hunched shoulders when walking he brushed this aside with: ‘Those are the great worries of state which weigh me down!’
On these walks in wartime he preferred a black cloak. He kept to well-maintained bridle paths at the sides of the farm meadows, a walking stick in his right hand, the lead of Blondi his German Shepherd in the left. He would always go in company with the newest arrival amongst the guests. It would take a comfortable half hour to reach the tea-house, built by Professor Fick in 1937 and resembling a low, tower-like pavilion. On a rocky promontory equipped with a guard rail he would then stand enjoying the view over Berchtesgaden and Salzburg, both hands resting on the walking stick. Speer is mistaken when he says that Hitler had no feeling for the beauty of the landscape. Hitler would always wait at this promontory for his guests to catch up and then all would enjoy the view together.
Once everybody had looked their fill◦– far below the river Ache curled through the valley◦– Hitler would lead the way to the tea-house. There was a cloakroom in the porch and then one entered a room of bright marble with a large fireplace. Furnishings were deep, chintz-covered armchairs at a round table. Tall, narrow windows in the south face of the tea-house allowed a good view of the mountains; the fireplace was on the north side, above it a gold-framed mirror reflected the crystal crown lights in the ceiling and the beeswax candles in wall holders. I never saw the grate lit. As a source of warmth it was superfluous, for central heating was installed below the red marble floor tiles.
While the visits to the small tea-house on the Mooslahner Kopf formed part of the daily ritual, the tea-house on the Kehlstein was rarely visited. It was at 2,000 metres, and Hitler felt unwell in the thin air at that altitude. This little house on a mountain top was like a fairytale with which he enjoyed surprising foreign heads of state.[119] Hitler would often proudly relate the fascination of his visitors for the road which led to the Kehlstein, often skirting the edge of the precipice. Further on they would be impressed by the tunnel drilled into the mountain with its imposing metal lift and then the overwhelming sight over the majestic mountain world of Berchtesgaden. The construction work on the Kehlstein was Martin Bormann’s masterpiece, just as the farm was also developed on his initiative.
While the guests to the small tea-house drank mostly tea or coffee, Hitler and Eva Braun preferred cocoa. The selection of cakes and pastries was very tempting, but Hitler always had apple pie, its pastry breath-thin, low in calories, with thick slices of baked apple. Later cognac and liqueurs were offered. To be a couple of kilos overweight was a serious political matter for Hitler and if it suddenly became difficult to button his jacket at the midriff and the scales confirmed an increase in weight, especially if a Party rally was in the offing, he would reject anything sugary and eat very little. He would always proclaim a diet by declaring: ‘I have to eat less, I am putting on fat, I must lose it!’ His iron will would bring about the hoped-for result, and then he would announce: ‘So, I am back to my old weight, I have lost seven kilos in the last fourteen days!’ Battling his tendency to corpulence was spurred less by vanity than his awareness of people’s disapproval of well-fed orators, and most of all his fear of being ridiculed, both of which kept him on the path of moderation. Göring’s corpulence on the other hand did not worry him, for he found both Göring and Dr Morell well proportioned. One saw that the same fear of ridicule was the reason for his decision not to wear leather shorts, the so-called ‘shorts regalia’ of Bavaria, or be seen in bathing trunks. To his mind such articles of apparel were inappropriate for heads of state.
119
The Kehlstein tea-house was a gift to Hitler from the NSDAP for his fiftieth birthday. A road six and a half kilometres in length climbed 1,710 metres to a parking place at a gallery entrance to a lift. This lift rose 124 metres directly into the Kehlstein tea-house. Seidler and Zeigert,