I Don’t Need Nazis In My Germany

November 4, 1937

Northern Germany, Berlin I finally arrived in Berlin.

To the historic capital of Germany, descended from the Principality of Brandenburg, and a place that would be nothing but ruins by the end of World War II.

As if to prove its German sensibility, the rough urban area was covered everywhere with dark red flags bearing the Hakenkreuz.

It was an oppressive and bleak scene, befitting what the West often called the Empire of Evil.

The people seemed more energetic than I expected, but it was common to see members of the SS (Schutzstaffel) roaming the streets.

From now on, this is my stage.

One wrong move and it's all over.

And I—