ALEXANDER MORITZ FREY ON ADOLF HITLER
"One evening a pale, tall man tumbled down into the cellar after the first shells of the daily evening attack had begun to fall, fear and rage glowing in his eyes. At that time he looked tall, because he was so thin. A full moustache, which had to be trimmed later because of the new gas masks, covered the ugly slit of his mouth."
"He sat there panting ... . His yellow face grew red, ... and he resembled a gobbling turkey as he began to rant about the English. ... I immediately had the same impression that many had of him later -- that he took the military maneuvers of the enemy personally, as if they wanted to take his precious life in particular. ...
"We gave him something to drink, he calmed down a little and then he got worked up again about the impertinence and stupidity of the enemy. Finally he stuck his head carefully outside, listened around, and, seeing that everything was calm, the shelling long over, he disappeared with an ill-tempered farewell."
"He spoke, ranted, boasted and distorted the true state of affairs with a certain cunning talent already back then as a lowly private, just as he would do 25 years later -- to all intents and purposes with the same words -- as the holder of unlimited power."
"When people claim that he had been a coward, that's not true. But he also wasn't brave, he lacked the composure for that. He was always alert, ready to act, back-stabbing, very concerned about himself. All his comradeship was an act -- an act cleverly chosen for the simple and naïve -- to make himself popular and to create a striking impression. He knew the tricks that one could use to throw nuggets to the youngsters that they would happily swallow."
"I gave him some sort of tablet to swallow. He had a mild temperature and a raw red throat. Although it was as good as nothing and it would normally have been ignored at the front, I advised him nonetheless to register for a doctor's appointment the next day. He thought for a moment, hesitated -- and then shook his head, ... clenched determination in his eyes. No, he didn't want that, he said opaquely. In the later course of his illness, he made sure that it was talked about among his fellow soldiers and that it also came to the ears of the officers that Hitler has a 'terrific throat infection' but is doing his duty nonetheless."
"I sat together with Max Amann and Hitler in the same train compartment ... Hitler sat opposite us, sleeping with his mouth open. ... He slept with his chin hanging down and had stretched out his feet in such a way that Amann, with his short fat legs -- he always had plenty to eat due to his connections ... -- was wedged in. .. He gave the sleeping man a kick against the shinbone. Hitler gave a start.
"'Kindly keep your joints to yourself!' said the sergeant in a commanding tone. Hitler understood, then he went red. For a moment he looked liked he wanted to lunge at the other man, but immediately managed to keep his temper under control and he said nothing. Amann said, in a sarcastically pacifying tone, "Yes, I mean you, Private Hitler."
"After the end of the war in Munich, where we both lived, I often saw Hitler, although I never spoke to him again. For a long time we lived in the same neighborhood. I often ran into him in the Maximilianstrasse. He bought his newspapers at the same newspaper stand as I did. He bought a lot of newspapers at the same time ... The newspaper woman appreciated him as one of her best customers. Incidentally she complained loudly, in a very Bavarian way, about the Nazi gangs."
"We ran into each other sometimes in Café Heck, one of the three Hofgarten cafés. Hitler would sit there together with a half dozen confidants. He always greeted me hastily, the blood rising quickly in his face, probably because of his antipathy towards me. He sent his Max Amann over to me. He was supposed to win me over to the movement. 'Hitler will make it, believe me, Frey, he will make it. And you will regret it if you don't listen to me,' he told me. ... He tried several times, inviting me to large Nazi rallies ... I made it unmistakably clear to him that I did not share the Nazi worldview. He knew that I was published in democratic and social-democratic periodicals, and he harshly condemned my 'service in the pay of the Jewish press.' I took my leave of him with just as much energy."
"As fate would have it, I met Hitler on the evening before his putsch in the Bürgerbräukeller. It was in Maximilianstrasse again ... Incredibly nobody appeared to recognize Hitler, at least not the majority of the passers-by. ... He was alone, prowling along in the manner of a predator before it leaps, imagining its prey, he didn't see his surroundings; the evil, fanatical stare was directed into the empty air, which meant he was walking along in the abundance of his demonical visions. ... He was walking along, not wearing a hat, his permanently oily, shimmering black hair was combed very precisely, and he was wearing a yellow raincoat."
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