How I Saw Hitler on My Summer Vacation

by Kathleen A. Reed

  Hubert at the train station in Linz

  The ride was so long that by the end of the trip, we knew almost everything about each other. When our train reached Vienna, Hubert asked me to go to dinner with him. After I was all settled in my hotel, I dressed up for a change! We went by tram out to the famous “Rathauskeller” in the cellar of the Town Hall. The locals called it the “Rathaus.” It was quite picturesque and very crowded. We ordered wiener schnitzel and drank the famous Grinzinger wine. The resident orchestra included strolling musicians — a violinist and a singing accordion player who meandered throughout the audience. The music consisted of well-known Viennese waltzes and bits from operettas, which were thoroughly enjoyable. To my surprise, at one point they started playing “A Bicycle Built for Two,” for my special benefit and for an English party at the next table. I sang it for Hubert, to his amusement.

  We stayed there until rather late, and then we walked past the Maria Theresa Place. The statue of the Empress was impressive against a backdrop of the full moon behind her shoulders. Near the Justice Building, we found a little coffee house, where we sipped sweet Viennese coffee, which was piled high with whipped cream. Here we listened to Hungarian music played on a cello, violin, and a xylophone-type instrument. The house was not very crowded, so I had the thrill of being serenaded at our table. The musicians played with such feeling, it almost made me weep. Hubert said that they were playing especially for me. He asked if I could feel the music in my soul, and that was exactly my experience. We were reluctant to leave, but it was quite late. After taking a taxi home, I said farewell to Hubert, for I was leaving early in the morning for Budapest and he was headed to Berlin. He was so very nice, but — oh, Max!

  Helen touring the Royal Palace in Budapest

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Blue Danube to Budapest, Hungary

  Hungarian Music Can Be Treacherous

  Date: September 10, 1938

  Place: On the Danube to Budapest

  Weather: Fine — a little chilly.

  Instead of waiting to write a full diary entry this evening, I will add some thoughts this morning. It should be a rather uneventful day. The travel agent in Vienna did not think much of the twelve-hour trip down the Danube. The beautiful Blue Danube River was anything but blue, and it was not very beautiful when we started out. I am half inclined to agree with the travel agent, but here I am, gliding down the Danube to Budapest! This boat is full of German and Hungarian natives and we are sailing under the Hungarian flag. It was necessary to go through customs before boarding, and to my surprise, the Customs Agents looked through my bags very carefully, this time! They poked fun by saying that some my letters were probably from my sweetheart.

  The officials here are quite intense about passports! I had to leave mine at the hotel for an hour, and relinquish it again today at customs. They said they would give it back to me, upon my leaving the boat. All this is most strange, but I guess they need to be careful. There was a typical old Austrian man sitting next to me. His hair was as white as his collar, which was spick and span. He insisted on trying to talk, but he spoke a dialect that I could not understand. At noon, he brought out his little package of brown bread, sausage, and pungent-smelling cheese, then gulped it all down. The Californian on board, turned out to be rather rude, and two English sisters were bored with everything! I enjoyed the company of a girl named Helga from Danzig. (That is exactly how she autographed this diary.) She spoke some English and we were able to communicate beautifully. It was dusk when we neared Budapest. By this time I was becoming ecstatic about being on this boat trip. The final few miles were mesmerizing!

  The reflection of the moon on the serene Danube, and the approaching lights of Budapest, created an incomparable romantic setting. Near the shoreline, adding to the dreamlike scene, were the black silhouettes of treetops, emerging from the water’s surface. As we two swayed to the haunting strains of Hungarian music — wafting toward us from a radio — Helga and I exclaimed over the ever-changing panoramic views. All we could manage to say was “sunderschon” (gorgeous) over and over again! As we grew nearer to Budapest, we saw millions of lights — a spectacular display! Gazing up to the summits one could see (illuminated) the Citadel, the Parliament building, as well as churches and domes. We were totally enraptured, and wished it would never end.

  Alas, the time was 8:45, and it had been a long journey. I sadly lost track of Helga somewhere at customs and the driver who was to transport me to my hotel, was nowhere to be found. Not wanting to go hotel-hunting in this land of strange words and signs, I hastened to a taxi, and had to pay the driver with Hungarian money borrowed from my hotel! Before flopping in bed, which looked so inviting, I made arrangements for a trip to Mezokovesd, for tomorrow. Mezokovesd is a village outside of Budapest, where on Sundays the peasants put on their festival clothes, attend church and promenade around the square. I came directly to Budapest just so I could be here on a Sunday, and will return to Vienna later.

  Date: September 11, 1938

  Place: Budapest

  Weather: Fine, but very windy.

  I reached the travel place by subway and was delighted to find several other English and Americans waiting for the tour. During lunch at Mezokovesd, our small group was entertained by more of that captivating Hungarian music. The English-speaking folks in our group congregated around one table. Lunch consisted of sausage and cheese, with bread, fruit and tea or coffee. On to the promenade! As planned, we climbed up into the balcony of the church and waited until it looked like the service was about to end. Then we tiptoed down and outside, so as not to miss the promenaders as they came out. Sure enough, we saw the girls walk around the square in front of the church, in the “Corso” as they call it. The young ladies joined hands in groups of two or three and strutted. The little boys looked so cute, spiffed up in their equally fancy suits. The colorful clothing was made up of multiple layers of fabric, lace, pleats, and petticoats for the girls. Some boys pointed, laughed, and made silly remarks about the girls. Ignoring the boys, the young ladies welcomed the opportunity to show off their beautiful, elaborate outfits.

  When we stopped for coffee and cake on the way home, a Dutchman entertained our table with feats of magic. During a visit to one little village, we intermingled with some crazy wine festival revelers! Somehow, we became so caught up in the fun that we found ourselves marching with the natives in a long parade! Finally, realizing our bus was about to leave, we dashed back onto our bus laughing and dancing down the aisle to our seats.

  At 8:00 p.m., I joined a group for a nightlife tour. At first, I was dismayed, because I couldn’t find another English-speaking person on the bus. As always, things turned out just fine! A friendly German man from Hamburg, sort of attached himself to me, thus banishing my lonely feeling. Budapest must be one of the most beautiful cities in the world at night, starting with the lights twinkling on the river. The buildings are illuminated from their bases — with a lovely pale green hue — which imparts a fairyland atmosphere to the whole scene. You are afraid to breathe for fear it will all disappear! We drove around the city then up to the Citadel for a higher view of the lights on the river. Our second stop was at a small coffee and wine café which had a Hungarian orchestra. That visit put us in the mood for the Moulin Rouge, a charming nightclub just around the corner from my hotel. Here we danced the Tango, drank champagne, and watched an excellent floorshow. I surprised myself and did the Lambeth Walk like an old hand.

  Music was being performed everywhere we went! Next to the door of each nightclub there was a saucer full of coins, with a sign that said “for the music.” After several more stops, the bus dropped me at my hotel at 2:15 a.m. Saying “Good Night” to everyone was difficult!

  Date: September 12, 1938

  Place: Budapest

  Weather: Perfect.

  Arthur, the handsome young desk clerk, invited me see the Gypsy Boys orchestra at the Café Ostende this evening. Having heard so many wonderful things about t
his group, I was delighted at the thought of seeing them in person! This morning, he told a porter to accompany me to the subway that went to the tour office. They suggested the three-hour express tour, which was about to leave. In order to see Budapest and the Blue Danube from above, we drove up to the Fishermen’s parapet. The seven towers symbolize the seven Magyar tribes that arrived in Hungary in 896. The Turks have so often overridden Hungary that their traces are everywhere, beginning with an odd mixture of Turkish and Gothic architecture. We visited the famous Gellert Thermal Baths, which opened in 1918.

  We were invited to take a peek at the wave pool, where artificial waves are generated by a mechanical device at one end of the pool. Bathers seemed to enjoy standing in this pool, trying not to get tipped over when a wave came upon them. Unfortunately, there wasn’t time to take a swim. Budapest contains many of these health-giving thermal baths. The natural temperature of the water is quite hot, and when brought inside a building, it heats up a room.

  Helen with tour group at the St. Gellert Baths

  After lunch, I walked down to the park in front of the National Theatre where the peasants were selling their wares. The money I brought along was dwindling so I had to be satisfied with a black belt decorated with red and green embroidered Hungarian designs. After getting lost two or three times on the way back to the hotel, I indulged in a short nap before my date with Arthur, at the Café Ostende.

  It was a lovely evening, illuminated by a nearly full moon. We arrived at the Café Ostende just as the adult orchestra was playing their last piece, which preceded the Gypsy Boys show. The Boys Orchestra was splendid! Wearing elaborate costumes, some of the tiny tots seemed almost too small to hold a violin! There was not one sheet of music between them! That is the way with musicians in all of Hungary. I was informed that they play more by ear, than by memory. Some of the older boys played larger instruments, however they all looked of school age. We loved every moment, and wished it would never end. After an intermission, the adult orchestra resumed their playing. We had a grand table right in front of the stage. Arthur was well acquainted with both the manager and the orchestra leader. The leader, a gypsy king, eventually came down to speak with us. He said I am a nice girl and that I should stay in Budapest and take care of Arthur. He also told me that I was not a real American because I seemed too romantic. I am not sure of the reason for that statement, but I do love to close my eyes and sway to the Hungarian music!

  The manager spoke English well and interpreted the Hungarian gypsy songs for us. He came to our table, sidled up to me with a violin tucked under his chin, and gazed soulfully into my eyes. Although this is common in the nightclubs here, I still found it quite flattering. (However, if it carries on too long, it feels a bit unsettling.) Arthur and I sipped wine and became more and more entranced with one another. He transformed into quite the romantic lover, and begged me to stay in Budapest and marry him! It is fortunate that the music ended when it did. The situation was becoming quite treacherous. We were the last ones to leave Café Ostende.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Austria

  Lost Reservations, Gas Masks, Soldiers, and a Black Night

  Date: September 13, 1938

  Place: Budapest to Wien

  Weather: Overcast but no rain.

  TIMELINE: Marshall Law is declared in the Sudetenland, by Czechoslovakian President Benes.

  Up early again! This is too much! My train was scheduled to leave at 8:30. Arthur ordered breakfast and helped me close my bag. I longed to extend my stay in Budapest. I do not know why, but having my hand kissed makes me feel so sentimental. Perhaps it is because men do not kiss our hands, in America. A great many soldiers down at the station were marching and drilling, but everything seemed peaceful enough. I kissed Arthur good-bye, climbed aboard the train, and was off for Wien. (Vienna) A driver, from the travel service in Wien, met me at the station, and described several sightseeing tours. He also stated that they have been darkening portions of the city at night in preparation for possible air raids. On the way to the hotel, I was dismayed by his stories of the black nights they had experienced, with all lights out and not a glimmer of shine, anywhere. It sounded like it would be terrifying, especially if one was a tourist unfamiliar with her surroundings.

  Well, dear diary, all of the late hours and irregular meals caught up with me here in Vienna, where I am planning to stay several days. I became so sick that it was necessary for the hotel to call a doctor. He said that it was nothing to be alarmed about, but still ordered me to stay in bed for 2 days! I am too frightened to disobey his orders! My day was filled with periods of sleeping and waking. I am not sleeping soundly because of the clamor outside! The window in my room is vibrating with the sounds of soldiers marching by!

  Date: September 14, 1938

  Place: Vienna

  Weather: Sunny.

  I am snuggled up in my bed, still resting, and slowly recovering. Although my desires are to be out doing things, my body does not want to cooperate. There was so much excitement in the street today! There were parades with bands and troops marching by, people laughing and talking, and streetcars jingling their funny little bells. I am sure I shall feel well enough to participate in the morning. If I had to be sick somewhere, I am glad it was here in Vienna where I am spending 3 1/2 days. Late this evening, what seemed like 10,000 soldiers — interspersed with drummers — marched by, drowning out all other noise! The banging of the drums reverberated off the buildings. The marchers were shouting, chanting and singing! They were coming from the direction of the Westbahnhof Railway Station, which is not far from my hotel. I peeked between the curtains and watched them stream by until the whole spectacle made me dizzy! I tumbled back into bed!

  Date: September 15, 1938

  Place: Vienna

  Weather: Rainy.

  TIMELINE: The crisis impels Great Britain’s Neville Chamberlain to fly to Germany for a face-to-face meeting with Hitler.

  Learning my lesson about the necessity of sleep, it was not until this afternoon that I felt like venturing out with a tour group. Vienna is particularly interesting as the home of so many great musicians. There are monuments and remembrances everywhere to Strauss, Schubert, Brahms, Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven. The scheduled afternoon tour took us past the houses where many famous musicians lived and worked: where Schubert wrote “Blossom Time,” and Beethoven his “Eroica Symphony.” We passed through the famous wine suburb of Grinzing. If you see green flags hanging in front of a house, it indicates that the owners have their own fresh wine for sale. This is the greatest wine growing district of Austria. It was so cold and windy that we did not tarry long. We were served lunch on a mountaintop near Leopoldsberg. Seated around tables in a glass walled room, we enjoyed the spectacular view and our delicious Viennese coffee. The drive home took us past Schubert’s birthplace and the Opera house. It is still raining, so off to bed, early!

  Date: September 16, 1938

  Place: Vienna

  Weather: Cold!

  TIMELINE: British Lord Runcamin recommends that Czechoslovakia border territories containing a majority of ethnic Germans, be relinquished to Germany.

  The sun shines bravely through the cold weather. The tour man said to expect snow in Switzerland. I think I will go shopping for a hot water bottle! This has been an easy day. In my rambles about town, I did observe something unique. In almost every shop window, I saw red stickers saying either that it was an “Aryan store” or a “Party store.” Some stickers said, “Approved by the Arbeits Party.” There were gas masks in almost every store window display! Next to each gas mask stood a poster that read: “I have mine; do you have yours?” There were signs posted everywhere, indicating that one could find “cellar rooms” nearby. A cellar room was to be sought out, in the event of an air raid. These shelters must have been numerous because no matter where one stood, they could see at least one sign that indicated how many minutes to a particular cellar room, and the number of people it could hold.
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  Looking around for evidence of activity against the Jews, I did notice one large terrible picture of a Jew — with long grasping arms — holding churches, schools, and banks. There were many evidences of an unsettled state. The streets — and even the houses — were teeming with soldiers. Here in Vienna, they surely believe in preparedness. It seems they are going to have four “black nights” next week, and I shall miss them all.

  A special event that I would like to have seen, is the changing of traffic from the left-hand side of the street to the right-hand side, in accordance with German custom. Vienna is the last Austrian city to change over. This is to take place tonight at midnight. I need to leave town early tomorrow, so I they will have to perform the ceremony without me. It has been interesting watching them change the streetcar entrances, all in preparation for the stroke of midnight. I came back to the hotel for lunch and to rest, as tonight it will be rather late when I return.

  Picture Below: Ticket to Vienna Night Tour (green)

  Our Vienna night tour was wonderful! I met only two English-speaking people, but there were others who tried to speak it. We went to the Prather amusement park and rode on the famous Ferris wheel and the scenic railway. This is a huge amusement park along the Viennese lines of a Coney Island. The roller coaster seemed tame compared to those in America. On the way up to Koblenz, we drove by Schubert’s birthplace. The air was very clear and chilly, but we had a lovely view of Vienna and the Blue Danube by night. We then visited the Koblenz Bar, where an orchestra alternated between Viennese music and American Jazz. One minute we heard the Blue Danube Waltz, and the next tune was Billie Holiday’s “Says My Heart.”

  The Germans drank American cocktails while the Americans and British enjoyed German champagne. Our next stop was at Grinzing where we were lead down into a cellar to learn how wine is made. After tasting several types of wine, we returned to the main level, where we sat around tables, eating strange things on rolls and drinking wine. Here we enjoyed an excellent orchestra, with musicians who wandered among us. During the last melody, we sang, joined hands, and swayed around the table. On our return trip, it was comical to see the transformation of the people on that bus. Everyone was having a good time — singing and laughing — even the stout old ladies. When the bus dropped me off at my hotel, it was difficult to tear myself away from that party. They probably kept it up until morning. I had to arise at 6:30, so I trotted off to bed like a good little girl.