On 12 June 1945, after forty-three days at sea, Santa Cruz III arrived at the small industrial port of Río Gallegos on the south-east coast of Argentina. Although seventeen people had boarded the small cargo boat in Kiel, only sixteen disembarked. Doctor Hipke had disappeared two days before the arrival. His cabin was empty and there was no sign of his makeshift operating theatre, which had been dismantled and scrubbed clean. The VIP party of three were transported by plane on a short thirty-minute flight to the Führer’s new base: a large Argentinian-style farmhouse situated a few miles north of El Calafate, a small town on the southern border of Lake Argentino in the Santa Cruz province of Patagonia.
As Hitler’s private secretary, Bormann had spent the previous few years making him an incredibly wealthy man. As well as his salaries as chancellor and president, he received massive royalties from both his book, Mein Kampf, and for the use of his image on postage stamps. Bormann had also set up the Adolf Hitler Fund of German Trade and Industry, which collected a special tax from major industrialists, all of which went straight into the Führer’s personal account. He also supervised the secret warehouses scattered across the country, which were packed full of Nazi treasure, stolen mainly from Jews and wealthy businessmen who didn’t support the Nazi regime.
By the summer of 1943, Bormann realised he and Hitler needed an escape route in case Germany ended up losing the war. He identified Argentine President General Edelmiro Julián Farrell and his vice president, Juan Perón, as passionate Nazi sympathisers; hence perfect bedfellows. So Bormann began to route millions of Reichsmarks into South American banks, as he looked to create an insurance policy against a possible defeat.
In the immediate months after the end of the war, the Argentines personally welcomed a number of senior Nazis to their country but with the prized cargo of Hitler, Bormann and Braun, they hit the jackpot. Bormann had arranged for the boat to be laden with large, unmarked wooden crates containing a potpourri of stolen treasures, including rare artworks, an array of gemstones and two tons of Nazi gold. A Führer’s ransom worth over two hundred and fifty million dollars.
The fugitives arrived in style at their new home in El Calafate. Perón had arranged for one of the limos from his personal fleet to be on hand for the last leg of the journey. The long-wheelbase Fleetwood Sixty Special was Cadillac’s most luxurious vehicle. It was parked up on the makeshift airstrip which had been hastily constructed in a field on the east side of the lake. They landed in a twenty-seater DC-3 aircraft and immediately switched to the chauffeur-driven limousine.
Ten years earlier, Bormann had been personally responsible for supervising the renovation of the Berghof, the Führer’s beloved holiday home in Berchtesgaden, on a hilltop village in the Bavarian Alps. Hitler insisted the retreat should be totally private and had instructed Bormann to remove any neighbours who lived in the area. Nazi funds were used to purchase all the properties within a five-mile radius and those who refused to sell were shipped off to concentration camps. Two days after the work was completed, Hitler and Braun stayed at the new property for a weekend and the Führer complained that his view across the valley was ruined by a single farmhouse almost eight miles away. The following weekend, Bormann gave instructions for it to be razed to the ground. That episode was an early indicator to the Führer that his private secretary was totally ruthless when it came to carrying out his orders and was therefore an invaluable asset. An attack dog with unquestionable loyalty.
In January 1945, Bormann sent off detailed plans to the team of Argentine architects in charge of the new construction. Like its owners, the residence would conceal a secret of its own. The exterior resembled a traditional local farmhouse, so as not to stand out, but the interior included a few special furnishings and artworks that Bormann had shipped over from Hitler’s beloved Berghof retreat.
The Cadillac pulled up outside the house where four heavily armed men were waiting to create a guard of honour for the Führer. A large name sign, El Blondi, hung directly above two wooden entrance gates at the front of the property. Braun was the first to react to it.
“Martin, you’ve given it the perfect name. It’s a permanent memorial to the Führer’s soulmate.”
Bormann had chosen the name as he knew Hitler had loved his pet Alsatian far more than any human in his life. Bormann had surprised him with the puppy as a birthday present back in 1941 and the pair had become inseparable. Towards the end of the war, Blondi even moved into the bunker and slept in Hitler’s bedroom. The day before the three of them fled Berlin, he gave instructions for his beloved pet to be given a cyanide capsule, rather than fall into the hands of Russian soldiers.
Bormann led them inside and, for the next couple of hours, they inspected their new residence. It had been specifically designed with three distinct living areas, as Bormann knew Hitler and Braun had never actually lived together. Even in the confines of the bunker, the Führer had insisted they have separate rooms and they never shared a bed. Despite the fact she was now Hitler’s wife, Bormann knew the Führer would continue to treat her as a mistress.
The centrepiece of the ground floor was the grand entrance hall, furnished with ornate Teutonic furniture that had been shipped over from Europe a few months earlier. A gigantic black marble fireplace dominated the area and a number of silver-framed pictures, featuring the Führer in a variety of animated poses, were displayed on the mantel. Directly above the fireplace hung a watercolour, set in an ornate gold-leaf frame, that Hitler himself had painted. Two heavy oak doors led through to an enormous study that boasted light pine-panelled walls, broken up by rows of bookshelves. Bormann’s meticulous eye for detail had ensured that Hitler’s personal library had been replicated in the new surroundings. The Führer owned an impressive collection of first editions, and they had been carefully transported from Bavaria.
However, the showpiece in the study was the free-standing Zenith Console Radio Phonograph. It was Hitler’s prize possession, as it allowed him to enjoy his favourite recordings. He was a huge opera fan and owned a large collection of vinyl records. The Führer was obsessed with Wagner’s works and he claimed the composer’s 1842 production of Rienzi was the inspiration for his politics. It featured a medieval Italian folk hero who led the people in a revolt against the nobility.
Another door off the hall led to a staircase that went straight down to a huge basement area that was home to a small group of live-in staff who Bormann had vetted remotely. They included a housekeeper, a cook and a maid who shared the accommodation along with the four guards. The cook had been sent recipes for some of the Führer’s favourite meals, including a traditional Austrian broth with liver dumplings and an apple cake strewn with nuts and raisins, known as “Führer Cake”. The industrial fridge in the basement was heavily stocked with imported bottles of Möet & Chandon champagne, Braun’s favourite drink. The bottom two shelves housed fifty small bottles of Methamphetamine, the Führer’s go-to recreational drug. Theodor Morell, Hitler’s personal physician for the previous nine years, had shipped out the stimulants on Bormann’s orders.
For years, Morell had personally injected Hitler with the drug on a daily basis, always immediately after breakfast. He knew that administering it intravenously produced an immediate rush that would go on to create an intense energy boost for at least eight hours. During the three months they were incarcerated in the bunker, Bormann instructed Morell to teach Hitler how to safely self-inject. As ever, the Führer’s private secretary was obsessed with forward planning.
The huge fridge also contained a separate glass compartment stuffed with clear plastic bags of cocaine, sourced in Peru. Two years before the end of the war, Morell had begun treating Hitler with a bizarre eye-drop mixture. The concoction created by the Führer’s personal physician contained a concentrated dose of diluted cocaine. By 1945, Hitler had moved on from applying the eye drops to snorting the powdered version directly into his nostrils. Bormann recognised the Führer was an addict and, in their new life, he knew the addiction would need continuous feeding.
El Blondi, like the Berghof, stood in its own grounds, five miles away from the nearest property. Hitler was clearly stunned by Bormann’s incredible achievement in creating his new residence and, for the first time in many months, appeared happy and relaxed.
Bormann took advantage of Hitler’s improved mood and joined him in the study to discuss a matter that was high on his list of priorities. He passed Hitler a solitary piece of typewritten paper across the desk. It contained five names.
“Führer, I know we discussed this on the crossing but, now we are here, we need to agree on a name. My three favourites are Johnson, Franklin and Wilson. We know that America is going to emerge from the war as the most powerful nation in the world and our plan for a future Reich means your new dynasty needs to be built there, so when Eva bears you a son he will be educated in English as his primary language, as well as Spanish and German. All these names belong to previous presidents and carry weight and credibility with the American people. Which would you prefer?”
Hitler relaxed back into his chair and surveyed his new study. “You have done extremely well, Martin. Your loyalty is beyond question and your planning has been impeccable. I loathe the idea of choosing any of them but I know it’s an essential part of our future plan, so I will leave the choice to you.”
Bormann allowed himself the rare luxury of smiling back at the Führer. “Führer, I’m going to choose FDR. He was the only president in US history to serve four terms. Welcome to your new home, Señor Franklin.”