THE PURPOSE OF THAT AFTERNOON WITH KREBS is important for I feel explosions from above rocking the Bunker. Like that one just now. I must learn any defense I can. Pieces of concrete are shifting and falling as the floor shudders. But I’d rather hear the whining of bombs because that means they’re not directly over us. Hearing nothing and feeling pressure in my ears means the bombs are close. And though other people are annoyed by “nuisance planes” which only fly over to scare us, I’d rather be kept awake all night with noise not bombs. When people complain about losing sleep, Goebbels calls their silly grumbling “the soul moving its bowels.”
What caliber guns are they’re firing at us? If Adi were beside me, he’d explain them as he lovingly did once by pointing to tracer beads in the sky as my own special string of pearls. 175 mm is heavy artillery whatever that is, but he assures me those shells won’t destroy a bunker over 30 feet under ground with 16 feet of concrete walls and ceiling. And we’re not under “army” concrete. It’s “speer” concrete, more trustworthy, Adi says. Since that July 20 assassination attempt, Adi’s no longer comfortable with anything but Speer’s construction—along with very select SS guards.
The assassination attempt was awful for Adi as well as for me though it had a glorious outcome. The villains were so sure of success that they took over the main radio station. But they didn’t succeed for long, and the radio was quickly taken back by the SS. I had some terrible moments when I heard the rumor of Adi’s death. I remember exactly what I was eating when a neighbor bounded into the room during dinner saying the führer might be dead. My potato croquette fell automatically from my lips as if it, too, was shocked. But somehow I knew he was still alive as my heartbeat remained normal, my pulse calm. My body would have collapsed if He were no longer in existence. It would not have been possible for me to continue to breathe.
Goebbels said that when Adi was pulled from the wreckage, covered with dust and bleeding, the first thing he shouted was: “send immediately for a salad of spinach and a spoonful of vinegar!” Diet was always his main concern for survival.
To assure people that he was alive, Adi gave a speech to the nation, his thrilling words spilling through their big wooden Siemens radio, splendid words spilling from the metallic threads of the radio’s fabric front. At one in the morning on July 21, he stated that criminally stupid officers had formed a plot to remove him. A bomb was planted by Colonel Count von Stauffenberg and exploded two meters away from him. Except for some minor bruises and burns, he was fine. This confirmation of Providence was the sign that he should continue his goal for the greatness of Germany.
Claus von Stauffenberg, his wife and four children were executed. Goebbels said it’s a very ancient custom that when a man is a traitor, his blood is bad, it contains treason and his entire family and remotest connections must be exterminated. I felt relieved knowing such evil people were gone.