The killing of Hitler: a failure. Here I stand fighting my own people. I may end up killing my own students. I stepped into the Nazi’s path of destruction and must follow that decision to the end. I must get to the leaders and kill them in order to save our existing civilization forged by patriots and true heroes. (Chapter 2, The Wood Factory, p18) A gentle teacher in a small village, seemingly isolated from the rise of Nazi Germany, finds himself thrown into the fray-against his own country. In The Tree Walker, My Life as a Nazi, I tell my story: with two assassination attempts on Hitler, advising the Fuhrer on war strategy, the killing of generals, serving on the Russian Front, working in SS Headquarters in Cracow, entrusted with the Reich’s bank funds in Dresden, aiding with Denazification, then settling down as a farmer, I experienced a drastic life change. I survived to ruminate on these events. The full horror cannot be known; it died with the millions of victims. I reflect on why the Germans were vulnerable, why the Jews were vulnerable, and why war continues here on Earth. The issues that Hitler resolved, albeit in a terrible way, we continue to ignore and helps seal our doom. Hitler’s attempt at a one-world government did not end with World War II; it is a work in progress. He merely advanced the tools of a totalitarian. That silver-tongued serpent outsmarted us from almost day one. My mind returns to the visage of a tortured Stefan, shot down like a dog. A gentle man who wanted to come closer to each brother and offer comfort, the care of a true friend. That image sobers me instantly. I refuse to be enamored, in any way, by this mighty enchanter. If not for Stefan, I may have been. (Chapter 6, Meeting Hitler, p52) A moving masterpiece, offering crescendo after crescendo. Each point more exciting and leading to a greater promise. What will be his climax? Even the soldiers are having difficulty standing still. He will have this crowd praise him in adoration. He will have everyone shouting as loud as never before, with multiple chants of Sieg Heil, to hail victory. I foresee it coming. The final blessing, the height of ecstasy, the mass insanity. I pretend to drop something and go down on one knee to pick it up. In the same movement I pull out the gun Axel gave me, take quick aim, and shoot. He flies back, but still the shouting continues from the crowd. Perhaps a concluding antic he makes for an exit? In the confusion, I put away my gun, run up the steps, and speak calmly into the microphone, ‘Stay calm. Everything is under control. Please proceed quietly and orderly back to your homes. We will keep you appraised of the situation.’ (Chapter 10, In the Army Now, p89) I try to imagine someone telling me I must leave my home, move to an overcrowded ghetto and I spend the night searching for an available shelter. Immediately stripped of everything: given a number for a name, no schooling, no public transportation, no job, no food, a curfew with deadly consequences. Then divided by barbed-wire fencing into two sections, and assigned without explanation. Mother into A, I’m in B. One side is emptied, then the other side taken to a ‘work center’ newly constructed atop of where we used to honor our dead, and cast into a taller barbed-wire container. I cannot imagine it. (Chapter 13, Working at SS HQ, p121) The next generations do not own our personal experiences and thoughts, and since that cannot be imprinted into another, will be lost. Even the voices screaming wake-up calls lie entombed in books, or at best placed on the nightstand and the light shut off. Only through personal experience do we learn, and then we tune into people who are on the same wavelength. (Chapter 17, Wars, and Rumors of Wars, p164)