“My ivory and lilac summer suit, my wide-brimmed panama and my malacca cane seemed unexceptional in the Roman sunshine but were great entertainment for those simple working-class boys. As fervent a revolutionary as themselves, I was seen by them as a dilettante. They could not quite understand what I had to do with the triumph of the masses. A couple of cool words from Putzi Hanfstaengl, however, and they turned their grinning attention back to their work. Saluting ‘Storm Troopers’ sprang to ope...n the massive bronze doors. He showed them his party book, but they knew him, treating him with the utmost respect, lifting their arms in the Mussolini salute, clicking their heels and shouting ‘Heil Hitler!’ It was quietly obvious that Doctor Hanfstaengl was more than a minor member of the new Nazi hierarchy. I was reminded of a scene in Ben-Hur when the great Roman general mounts the steps of the senate, saluted by his adoring men. Thus, with only restrained ceremony, we entered the nerve centre of the movement, not the few shabby rooms of a revolutionary rabble, but the modern appointments of a party ready for the responsibility of government.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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