Hitler’s holiday house at Obersalzberg was reached by a precipitous road that wound its way up Mount Kehlstein and ended at a bronze portal blasted into the rock. Here an SS guard snapped to attention as Baron von Berg proceeded to drive through a long marble tunnel lined with chandeliers. When he emerged in the vast underground garage at the other end, he stopped the Mercedes, and an SS valet opened the rear door only to discover that the passenger was dead.
“His shirts weren’t pressed, and he was always on time, never early,” von Berg explained to the terrified attendant, jumping out of the driver’s seat. “Now, I won’t be long, so inform the airfield in Berchtesgaden that my private plane will arrive and take off in three hours. Unload the globe from the trunk and have it brought up to the house. In the meantime, have my car washed and get that blood off the backseat. You might also inspect the wiring under the hood before we leave, to ensure we don’t have any unfortunate accidents, because you’ll be my driver.”
The parking attendant gave him a stiff-armed but shaky Nazi salute. “Zu Befehl, Herr Oberstgruppenführer!”
“Excellent. Carry on. And don’t scratch the fender this time.”
Von Berg stepped into the waiting elevator and sat down on a gray leather seat. As the polished brass cage began its slow three-hundred-foot ascent up the shaft in the heart of Mount Kehlstein, he glanced at his watch and turned to the sleepy SS guard operating the elevator. “Rather unusual for the Führer to hold a situation conference this early, wouldn’t you say? He’s not exactly what I would describe as a morning person.”
“Ach,” replied the operator with a nod. “He is having trouble sleeping these days and keeps us all up every hour to accommodate him.”
“And accommodate him we must. Is my delivery here?”
“Yes, Herr Oberstgruppenführer.” The operator pulled a hook on the floor to reveal a lower compartment. Below were two SS orderlies with a large object draped in canvas: the Templar Globe. They would exit on the lower level of Hitler’s house.
“Very good. Have it ready when I call.”
When the elevator reached the top, von Berg proceeded to the anteroom of the Berghof, Hitler’s holiday house. Oberführer Rattenhuber, the Nordic-looking chief of the SS bodyguard, seemed very surprised to see him, as though he had just seen a ghost. He was so surprised, in fact, that he failed to ask General von Berg to hand over his pistol when he brushed past without waiting to hear the magic words “The Führer will see you now.”