The people who had most work to do were the young SS adjutants Fritz Darges[24] and Otto Günsche.[25] They had to organize the journey, getting the vehicles ready, telling everyone what to do, fixing the train’s itinerary and time of departure, giving instructions to those who were staying behind. Everything had to be done as fast and in as much secrecy as possible. The telephones were in constant use: the administrators at the Berghof had to be told when we were arriving, the Führer’s apartment in Munich had to be prepared for him, and not least the special train, even though it was always kept near Hitler and ready to leave, had to be prepared for a long journey carrying many passengers.
We were to leave at 21.30 hours. The whole company was ready on time. Each of us had been told our carriage and compartment number in advance, then Hitler’s car with his valet, his escort and the dog drove up, the Führer boarded the train, and it immediately started moving. It was a clear, mild winter night as we quietly steamed away in secret. We were soon out of the snowbound forest that looked so festive. I stood at the dark window of my compartment, looking out at the wide, peaceful landscape. I almost felt sorry to leave, and I was rather apprehensive about the new experiences ahead. Yet again I faced something that was strange to me.
I went out into the corridor. The train was moving so gently and peacefully that you hardly noticed it. I didn’t feel as if I were on a journey at all. Headquarters had simply moved, taking its atmosphere with it.
When I was staying in my little compartment in the guest car while I waited to be introduced to Hitler, I had never forgotten that I was in a stationary train. Now the little cabin had suddenly become a small room like any other. In fact it was more luxurious than many other rooms!
The bed could be turned into a modern couch with lovely comfortable cushions during the day. The bedspread was made of silk, a different colour for each compartment◦– mine had brightly coloured flowers on a pale beige background. The walls were panelled with beautiful polished wood, and there was hot and cold water on tap in the washbasin at any time of day. There was a brass lamp on the little table at the window, a wall telephone hung over the head of the bed, so that you could get in touch with the other compartments, and there was a convenient reading lamp too. The floors of all the carriages had velour carpets.
The two guest carriages were next to the dining car that did duty as the officers’ mess. Then there were carriages for the Führer’s staff, his escort, the radio and teleprinter operators, the guards and the orderlies. Finally you reached the saloon car, which was furnished like a conference room. This was where the military conferences took place at the big table made of valuable wood. The chairs had red leather upholstery, and you could switch on sophisticated lighting everywhere. In the past receptions were often held in this car, and it was shown to state visitors as a sight especially worth seeing. There were a gramophone and a radio here too, but they were never in use while I worked for Hitler.
Hitler’s private compartments were in the next carriage. Even here he didn’t have to do without his own bathroom, although the train had a special carriage with showers and hipbaths in it. I never went into Hitler’s two compartments, nor even took a look inside.
On those explorations of the train which had helped me to amuse myself while I waited after my first arrival, I had never been further than up to these private compartments of Hitler’s, which ended in a dining and sitting room. But I think I remember that there were only a few other carriages between his and the engine, for the railway staff and above all the anti-aircraft crew. The train also carried several light anti-aircraft guns to protect us from low-flying fighters. As far as I know, they never fired a shot except in practice.
So now we were rolling through the night all the way across Germany, with every comfort you can possibly hope for on a train journey. I couldn’t help thinking what other trains now travelling through the German landscape at the same time might be like: cold and unlit, full of people who didn’t have enough to eat or anywhere comfortable to sit◦– and I suddenly had quite an uneasy feeling.[26] It was all right fighting a war if you didn’t feel any of the ill effects yourself. Personally I had never known or seen such luxury before, even in peacetime. And when I saw the men of the government, the general staff and Hitler’s entourage sitting or standing about smoking and drinking, in a good mood and pleased with life, I could only hope that their hard work and all their efforts would really help to bring the war to an end as quickly as possible. It occurred to me that those strenuous efforts might be the only way they could reconcile it with their consciences to live such a life of luxury, when ordinary people were suffering. These thoughts were still occupying my mind when there was a knock on the door of my compartment. One of the orderlies from the Führer bunker put his head round the door and told me that the Führer wanted me to dine with him.
I had had a healthy appetite before, but now I didn’t feel at all hungry. I jumped up and hurried, first, to Fräulein Wolf in the next compartment, to ask if she was invited too. She said she was, and added that when the Führer was travelling he usually took his meals with a few ladies and gentlemen. Of course I was worried about my wardrobe, and asked what you wore on such an occasion. Almost everything I had was casual wear, sweaters and suits. She soothed my fears and said I didn’t have to change and there was nothing for me to worry about, it was all quite innocuous.
I went back into my compartment, washed my hands, hastily powdered my nose, even put on a little rouge so that no one would see how pale my nervousness had made me, and trotted off with my two colleagues Fräulein Wolf and Fräulein Schroeder to the Führer’s carriage. […] It was only natural, naive and self-conscious as I was at the time, for me to feel rather weak at the knees as I made my way along the corridor of the special train to eat my first state meal.
A small table had been laid for about six people in the Führer’s saloon car. Hitler himself wasn’t there yet. I looked at the table settings and was relieved to find nothing unusual. There was no item of cutlery that I couldn’t identify. I knew that Hitler was a vegetarian, and wondered whether everyone else had to go without meat too. I was about to ask Fräulein Schroeder when more of the guests came in. Professor Morell, who had just appeared in the doorway, must have found that quite difficult. The doors of any train, even the Führer’s special train, were meant for people of an ordinary build, but the circumference of the man now trying to get through the door was so vast that I was afraid the frame would burst apart. I had already seen Hitler’s physician quite often from a distance, but I hadn’t realized that he was quite so fat.
The liaison officer Walther Hewel, who followed him, wasn’t exactly slim either, but he was so tall and well proportioned that he looked good. Hewel’s easy manner helped me to stop feeling self-conscious. He told a couple of Rhineland stories, switched on more lights so that, as he said, we could see what we were eating, and finally joked that if Hitler didn’t turn up soon and begin the meal he was going to eat the sandwiches he’d brought.
24
Friedrich ‘Fritz’ Darges,
25
Otto Günsche,
26
In these comments Traudl Junge was referring to the regular passenger trains on German railways of the time. Modern readers might get the impression that she meant the deportation trains taking Jewish prisoners east in inhuman conditions, but she did not intend any such association when writing this manuscript in 1947.