- D'you have any water? - Sure. Can we have some water?
watch your step.
Charles Goodwin, Linda Voss.
- Pleasure to meet you. - Nice to meet you.
- where shall l sit? - Here will be fine.
There you go. There's some water. lf you need anything else, l'll get it for you.
l'm not really sure l'll be able to do this.
Just relax and sit opposite me and answer my questions.
- l've never done this before. - lt'll be easy, l promise.
- How are you? - Fine.
Can we get a sound check?
Can we just have a few words - just for the sound man?
- what should l say? - Say anything.
l've always had such a big mouth. Now l don't know what to say.
A little more, please?
To tell you the truth, l don't know if l should be doing this.
Everyone told me that l should. They said ''lt's the BBC and they'll do it right.''
- we will do it right, l promise. - That's fine!
Just relax. Are we ready?
- This is a BBC production. lnterview... - You wanted the scrapbook?
we'll do it later. we'll have film clips and photographs.
- l see. - lf we could just finish getting the slate.
- Sorry. - ''Hitler's Germany...''
- what film clips? - You'll see when it's finished. l promise.
- OK? - Sorry.
''Hitler's Germany, Part 5: women in the war.'' Mark.
So just relax. You've got all the time in the world.
- Do l start? - Tell me about the war.
when did you first become interested in it?
The movies.
There they are.
War movies. Anything set in Germany.
lt didn't matter if it was the First World War or the Second.
l especially loved anything set in Berlin.
They're over the border!
From the time l was a child, my grandmother and my father told me stories
about their beloved city.
- You spoke German at home? - To my mother, l spoke English.
She was lrish. Born in Brooklyn.
To my father, l spoke German,
but he warned me to keep this language a secret
because outside of our neighborhood in Queens, New York,
if people heard me speak German, they would either think l was a Nazi sympathizer,
or they would know l was a Jew.
"..wird es von Tag zu Tag schlimmer."
"Hitlers neuste Verordnung besagt, dass Juden keine Deutschen mehr sind
- und alle einen gelben Stern..." - ln English, please.
For us poor lrish trash. Thank you.
''we are no longer allowed to use a public toilet,
nor can Hannah, Sofi or l go to a beauty parlor
because Hitler says the hair of a Jew is infectious.''
''we hear rumors everywhere
that Jews are being rounded up and sent away.''
''we don't know where.''
''we have been invited by friends
to hide with them somewhere in Berlin.''
l guess it was then that the fantasy began.
l dreamed of parachuting into Germany and rescuing them -
my father's two sisters, Hannah and Liesel, and Hannah's daughter Sofi
who played the flute and was just a year younger than l.
l dreamed of seeing Sofi on the concert stage in New York City,
playing her flute, just for me.
The doomed city of Warsaw, pounded by Hitler's guns...
So you contacted the War Department about becoming a spy.
l wouldn't have known who to contact about becoming a spy.
ln 1940, when all of Europe was struggling against Hitler,
l was just a young girl struggling to get out of Queens.
l remember how intimidating the city was.
And l remember the first sight of the man who would change my life.
This is not our war!
lt's not our problem!
lf any blood is gonna be shed keeping Hitler out of England,
let it be English blood, not American!
Because it's not our war! lt's not our problem!
And anyone who says America should get involved in this war
is a Jew-loving commie,
Franklin Delano Rosenberg included!
- why don't you go home? - why don't you go home?
we got another one here!
l am sure your typing skills are superior, Miss Voss, but
a degree from Queens Clerical College is a bit beneath our standards.
Our legal secretaries come directly from Vassar.
l'm sure you understand.
Oh, l understand.
So unless you have something to add to change my mind, l'm afraid l really couldn't...
Lower your standards? Listen, l wouldn't want you to.
You might have to work with someone who's had to get her hands dirty.
And l'm sure that would be uncomfortable for you and the girls from Vassar.
l went to Vassar, by the way.
My uncle's car broke down at the front gate. l had to pick him up.
Place looked like a real shithole to me. Thank you very much.
Es tut mir so Leid. Es tut mir so Leid.
Hab keine Sorge, hab keine Sorge. Es ist nur Wasser.
lch darf meinen Posten hier nicht verlieren. lch habe zwei Kinder...
Miss Voss.
You failed to mention that you speak a second language.
Since all demands for payment have gone unanswered, like the billing in September,...
..die Rechnung vom September dieses Jahres,...
- we have no choice... - haben wir keine andere Wahl,...
but to impound the shipment of cement wagons...
als alle Zementlaster zu beschlagnahmen,...
- until proper reparations are made. - bis die Reparationskosten bezahlt sind.
Laster is truck. l said wagon.
You said cement wagon. Laster is correct.
You're very certain of yourself,
which is good. You'll have to be. Bitte.
we're trying to disentangle certain companies from their affairs in Germany.
One of our senior partners has a tin ear for languages, which leaves him handicapped.
Graduated cum laude from Harvard, but flunked out of Berlitz.
He also has a lousy disposition
and runs through secretaries like a bowling ball through tenpins.
lncidentally, we call him the pallbearer
because he rarely cracks a smile.
- Come in. - He also dislikes women who wear hats.
Hi.
l saw you on the street this morning, with that speaker?
Yeah...
what did you say to him?
l just suggested he might be more comfortable speaking somewhere else.
You were great.
Reminded me of Jimmy Stewart in The Mortal Storm.
Did you ever see it?
No.
lt's a great film.
what's with the blackout? You expecting Hitler to bomb us tonight?
Sometimes l think better in the dark.
Ed Leland, Linda Voss.
90 words a minute, bilingual dictation, works a mimeograph,
and speaks German with the accent of a Berlin butcher's wife.
- How's that for a last-minute save? - Berlin butcher's wife?
Taught by her grandmother, who's from Berlin.
But she wasn't married to a butcher. My grandfather owned a button factory.
Till it burned down.
Your... your grandmother, did she insist you speak...
German? She doesn't speak English.
She's... She's lived here for...
My sixth-grade teacher used to do that.
- Beg your pardon? - You know, start a question and not finish it.
Like ''The capital of lndiana is...?''
She's been in this country for 18 years.
So my question is, if she's lived here for 18 years, why doesn't she speak...
English.
She prefers German.
- Does she prefer Germany? - She's Jewish.
- You're Jewish? - Half.
ls that a problem in this company?
No, no! ltjust means we're half-sure you're not a Nazi spy.
He must like you, you make him laugh.
She'll be fine. Could you stand up and turn around, please?
- why should l do that? - Because you want the job.
And l asked you to. lt's a test l like to give.
well, l'll take it sitting down.
what l was gonna ask you to do is stand up, turn around,
close your eyes and tell me what you see here. lt's an observation test.
Now, do you really have a problem with that?
Pictures of sailboats and polo ponies, fancy books and diplomas,
stuffed fish on the wall, calendar set to the wrong date,
bookcases that need dusting, carpets that need cleaning.
And two Harvard guys who are surprised a girl who needs ajob
won't be treated like a slave.
Are you always like this?
Forgot to tell you, my other half's lrish.
Lethal combination.
lt didn't take me long to sense there was more to Ed Leland than met the eye.
ln February of 1940 one of the switchboard girls accidentally tapped into his private line
and heard a voice that she swore was Franklin Delano Roosevelt's .
ln March, Jimmy in the mailroom caught sight of a sealed document on Ed's desk,
- addressed to J Edgar Hoover. - Hi, Jimmy.
ln April, Ed's staff started interviewing recently arrived German refugees
to get details about life in Hitler's Germany.
And by fall of that year, Ed Leland's whereabouts were completely unpredictable.
He'd vanish for weeks at a time,
returning as abruptly as he'd left,
to dictate letters that made no sense at all.
Naturally, it set a girl's mind to wondering.
Please report that my wife Sunflower and l and her new dog Rover
just returned from the seashore,
where we saw a flock of birds - sea birds.
A flock of 14 sea birds diving for fish.
Excuse me, are those pelicans?
You said they were diving.
l've asked you not to interrupt me.
Sorry, Mr Leland, but the German language is very specific.
You wouldn't say seabirds, you would say pelicans.
Unless this is a code, in which case you should just tell me so l'd stop bothering you.
why would you say something like that?
No, l'm curious. why?
well, your wife's name is not Sunflower.
You don't even have a wife.
l mean, not one that l know of anyway.
Therefore you assume that this is all a code.
l don't have to turn around
to see that your overnight bag is full of woolen sweaters and heavy socks.
Not exactly the kind of thing you take to the seashore.
At least not a vacation-type seashore.
More like the English Channel, l'd say.
- Anything else? - No.
- OK. where were we...? - Except that the code is a dead giveaway.
l mean, 14 birds diving for fish! lt's obviously a fleet of 14 submarines.
You're gonna get caught with a code like this. The Germans aren't stupid, Mr Leland.
My God, they do it better in movies. Did you see Espionage Agent with Brenda Marshall?
No.
when she talked about submarines, she talked about her ''rose garden.''
- Her rose garden? - Yeah. So there'd be no connection.
And for airplanes, she talked about figs and dates.
Figs and dates?
Figs were Fokkers and dates...
l can't remember what dates were.
well, l guess l'd better go to the movies to see how they do this.
My wife, Susan, who l call Sunflower.
This was taken a year before l put her in a sanitarium in Switzerland -
a mental institution, which l visit often, and which l'm afraid that she'll never leave.
D'you understand why it's easier for me to let people think that l have never been married?
l'm sorry.
- God, l feel so stupid. - No, it's... it's all right.
l feel so stupid that
l don't understand why l can't make carbon copies of your letters.
Or why l have to turn in my steno pad for a new one each time l've finished.
Or why l type endless letters, but never envelopes,
so that l don't know where they're going to.
Last time l was in Switzerland, l asked a psychiatrist the same thing:
''why is it that l don't trust anybody?''
He thinks it has something to do with my upbringing.
You're a spy, Mr Leland.
And you've seen too many movies, Miss Voss.
Enough to know a spy when l see one.
And about this photo?
The woman's name is Jennifer Krimm.
A model you were never married to, but only dated.
Before you met Kiki Avondale, that is -
a Vassar graduate you were engaged to for six months before you got cold feet.
This is outrageous. This is... This is...
l don't have to listen to this anymore. This is simply and totally...
How do you know all these things?
l might be a better spy than you are.
By late October of '41
London was reeling under a hailstorm of German bombs called the Blitz,
and life in America was energized with the knowledge of what was inevitable.
Young men were disappearing late at night and signing up for the draft.
Glenn Miller was pumping out dance music while there was still time to dance.
And Ed Leland had cast his eyes in my direction.
For us, like the war, it was just a matter of time.
- Kurbis. - Der Kur...
l can't! l can't speak German. l can't get the accent thing.
- At least l made you laugh. - Yes, you do do that.
- ls that a hard thing to do, make you laugh? - well, serious times, Linda.
All the more reason.
Charlie Chaplin says ''A day without laughter is a day wasted.''
You believe that?
Yeah. l try to laugh once a day,
just in case.
D'you like Charlie Chaplin?
To be quite honest, l've never seen him.
- You're kidding! - No.
- well, what are you doing tonight? - Tonight?
Tonight l have tickets for the opera.
- Really? - Yeah.
- l've never been to the opera. - Oh?
- what's it like? - well, it's not for everybody. lt's...
See, that's the thing about Chaplin. He is.
- You really like Chaplin? - Mr Leland...
why don't you call me Ed?
Ed.
..Guterbahnhof und ein Hauptbahnhof.
There are six railroad goods yards and three main-line stations.
Einen Riesenschornstein.
Right near a large...
- How d'you say Schornstein? - Linda?
Me? l don't speak German.
Ja. Church steeple.
Can we take a break for a moment?
Schornstein is smokestack, not church steeple. Translator's been lying.
Linda, the man has been working as a translator for years.
Yeah. well, he started out by making little mistakes.
And when nobody noticed, the mistakes started getting bigger.
lt does not make him a liar...
He tripled the number of railroad lines coming into the city!
One sentence involving a munitions plant... He left that one out altogether.
what is he? A double agent?
Right here in this office?
- what'll you do to him? - Stop using him as a translator?
- How'd you know to stay quiet? - The Fighting 69th.
- Brenda Marshall and Cary Grant. - l see.
They cut out his tongue.
By day we worked together. By night we were lovers.
Secret lovers.
Until a Sunday morning in December when we lay listening to a symphony on the radio.
l said l'd never been to a concert and would love to go with him someday.
We interrupt to bring you a news bulletin.
The Japanese have attacked Pearl Harbor by air, President Roosevelt has just announced.
The air raid is still on. The anti-aircraft fire can be heard in a steady drone
as the attacking planes come in.
We will continue to receive reports which will tell the story of what is to happen
in the months that are to come.
For me, there would be no symphonies with Ed.
Just the sound of drums, as America went to war.
Goodbye, dear l'll be back in a year
Cos l'm in the army now
They took my number out of a hat
And there's nothing a guy can do about that...
What Pearl Harbor also did was bring Ed Leland's uniform and true identity
out of the closet:
that of a full-ranking military colonel working for the OSS in Washington.
His job: to co-ordinate information coming from behind enemy lines.
- So you accompanied him to Washington? - To the Washington airport.
But our journey together ended there.
- l want you to set up an office for Andy. - lt came as a complete surprise to me.
Everything he said that night came as a complete surprise.
l'm continuing on.
Continuing on?
To where?
l don't know.
l can't say.
what does that mean?
lt means things change.
lt's not the right time for us.
l don't want you to be waiting.
l don't wanna be,
either of us, worrying.
But, Ed, what's a war for
if not to hold on to what we love?
Colonel!
Hey, Colonel!
Goodbye.
He said he'd be in touch with me, but he never was.
And no one ever knew l loved him.
While America went to war, Ed disappeared in Europe.
And l disappeared into the lnformation Center of the War Department,
a basement where hundreds of women toiled,
sorting, filing and distributing information about Germany.
Linda. ''Trooper.''
And where l secretly searched for clues about Ed Leland.
Clues and words such as " Trooper," which l found out was Ed's code name,
and "Camp Brady," which meant "behind enemy lines."
l knew he was traveling, and into dangerous places.
l also knew l didn't wanna care.
l'll be seeing you
ln all the old familiar places...
Six months into the war, Europe still belonged to Hitler and Mussolini.
American boys were being lost by the thousands on Pacific islands
with names like Corregidor and Bataan.
And the man named Ed Leland had disappeared from the face of the earth.
When spring came to Washington he was all l thought about
because l believed that wherever he was
the sheer force of my love for him would keep him safe, keep him alive.
Excuse me, l noticed you looking a bit lonely. would you like to dance?
- No, thanks. - You sure?
l will.
ln everything that's light and gay
l'll always think of you that way
l'll find you in the morning sun
And when the night is new
l'll be looking at the moon
But l'll be seeing you
And l'll be seeing you
ln every lovely summer's day
ln everything that's light and gay
l'll always think of you that way
l'll find you in the morning sun
And when the night is new
l'll be looking at the moon
But l'll be seeing you
- At ease, gentlemen. Good evening. - Sir.
Hello, Linda.
Hello, Ed. what brings you to town?
l had to come in for something. l'm gonna be here for a while.
That's great.
would you like to dance?
Nah. You're busy.
Come on.
l don't wanna dance.
would you all excuse us for a couple of minutes?
Yes, sir.
we'll be over there, OK?
How you been?
Not great.
No?
No.
- when did you start smoking? - l don't know.
Kind of a silly thing to do, isn't it?
l'm a silly girl, Ed.
l think you're living proof of that.
Sorry to hear you're in the basement. lt wouldn't have happened if l was here.
l spoke with Andy, and he'll keep his eyes out for a betterjob.
l told him l'd quit if he doesn't.
You can work for me while l'm here. l can always use a good secretary.
This is all so civilized, Edward.
That's what you like, isn't it? Civilized people.
Polite ladies with pedigrees who look good at the opera,
who never make you laugh too hard
and never make you feel too much.
l've had a lot of time to think about this, and don't tell me it's the war
when l've waited months to hear if you're dead or alive, and you waltz into a nightclub.
- Linda, l came in last night. l was gonna call. - Go to hell!
Careful. You might have to admit that you know me.
- Linda, it is the war. - You're so noble, Ed.
Did l promise you something? lf l did, l'd like to know.
Excuse me, l thought the lady might like to dance.
The lady is busy.
l'd love to dance.
l'll always think of you that way
l'll find you in...
- l'm cutting in. - Don't let him.
Excuse me, but the young lady doesn't...
Don't try it! l'll leave here with your Adam's apple in my pocket.
what do you want from me?
l want you to stop feeling sorry for yourself.
No, you want me to stop feeling.
Like you.
Good night, sweetheart
All my prayers are for you
Good night, sweetheart
l'll be watching o'er you...
You did love me, didn't you?
l couldn't have been wrong.
You weren't.
well, then how do you stop?
Cos l want to.
So l'll say
Good night, sweetheart
Sleep will banish sorrow
Good night, sweetheart
Till we meet tomorrow
Dreams enfold you
ln my dreams l'll hold you
Good night, sweetheart
Good night
His name was Albert Eckert. You know his file by the code name ''Zipper.''
A society dress designer, popular with the wives of high-ranking SS officials in Berlin.
That is until last wednesday at 1400 hours when he was last seen
by our senior operative, Sunflower, buying roses at a marketplace.
This photo was taken one hour later, at 1500 hours.
Maybe somebody didn't like his latest dress design!
That man put his life on the line,
which is more than anybody in this room is about to do.
- You're looking to replace him? - lmmediately, but it won't be easy.
His access to information was his close relationship to Hedda Drescher,
wife of Horst Drescher, a social-climbing young Nazi
who ingratiates himself to his superiors by hosting elegant parties in his beautiful home.
A home which was appropriated from one of the finest Jewish families in Berlin.
The simple genius of Eckert's method was to bring Hedda a new gown
for each of these social occasions and help her get dressed in the study,
where he was allowed to linger for a glass of port when the party began.
At which time, he'd lock the door and microfilm certain documents
that Drescher was in the habit of bringing back from the war Office - like this.
And this.
Documents which lead us to believe
that somewhere in Germany scientists are developing a bomb that can fly by itself.
So l think you all can see the urgency of the situation. Lights, please.
we need someone to get back into Drescher's study, and fast,
find out where this work is being done and stop it, before it goes any further.
Any suggestions?
what about that cabinet maker, Meyerhoff? The guy from Leipzig?
- lf you wanna get into the study... - Makes sense.
They'd let him pull apart their secret cabinets?!
what about Eric Erdmann, the language professor? He came from Munich.
They were both born in Germany, so they'll be instant best friends?
- Linda. - lt took Eckert years to gain their confidence.
You think somebody can just move in and be given run of the house?
She's right.
That is what you need, though - someone who can move in and live there.
Someone with a low-class Berlin accent who could work as a domestic.
Someone with the accent of a Berlin butcher's wife.
Let's break for dinner.
l know the codes, the network, l know the whole operation! l could pass for a Berliner!
Linda.
Because you are a secretary, not a spy.
- Because l'm a secretary?! - You're not suited to it. You have no training.
- l'm not suited?! You can't speak German! - You can't hold your tongue.
l saw it the first time l met you. Everything just spills out of your mouth.
- lt makes you dangerous. - lt's more my war than yours.
- That is a ridiculous thing to say. - l'm a Jew!
- Hear what Hitler does to Jews? Half-Jews? - Of course. l have relatives still hiding there.
- l doubt it. - That they're hiding?!
- That you know what's happening. - Meaning?
Meaning l won't let you commit suicide.
- l will quit if you don't let me go. - l'll miss you.
l will, goddammit!
l quit!
- Linda. - Ed, l want you to taste my strudel:
the way my grandmother taught me to make it.
She taught me to cook German-style, the way my grandfather likes it.
And l could cook for 50 if l had to. Five courses - the way they do it in Berlin.
On nights when they didn't have people over, l could bring tea and strudel
up to the Dreschers' study and put a little schnapps in the tea
so that Horst and Hedda would get tired and could retire early,
and l could be left alone in the study to clean up.
This is not about you and me, goddammit. l wanna do something important with my life.
Here, taste!
Taste it!
You know what you're getting yourself into, Linda?
Yeah. The war.
He agreed to send me - for two weeks only-
insisting that whether l succeeded or not, l'd come out of Berlin in exactly 14 days.
Untrained in survival skills, l was given a quick course in using a microfilm camera,
and a purse that made up in function for what it lacked in fashion.
Beyond that, it was all guts.
Accompanying me as far as Switzerland,
Ed would turn me over to the legendary Sunflower,
a German working for the Americans, who would take me on my final journey into Berlin.
l'll meet you in two weeks.
Right on this plafform, two weeks from today.
- Do l look all right? - You look perfect.
This is it.
Still wanna go through with it?
- where is he? - Right in front of you.
- There? - Not there.
There.
Take care of yourself, Linda.
See you in two weeks.
Eyes down, say nothing. And try not to look like a spy.
- Are you mute? - You said not to speak.
- ln German, please. - You spoke in English.
Dear God, your accent.
what's wrong with it?
Excuse me?
l guess l couldn't blame him.
Might l interrupt? Are you aware that you're speaking in German?
Sorry.
l remember it in German.
Could you remember it in English, please?
Sure.
- what's wrong with my accent? - lt's from the gutter.
But it's supposed to be. l'm a cook.
But not one that Drescher would accept.
Don't you know he's a man of great pretensions?
with that vulgar sound, he won't let you in at the door.
My God, what have they sent me?
l guess l couldn't blame him.
Konrad Friedrichs, known as Sunflower, had become a spy, by my calculations,
around the year l was born.
A veteran of two wars, he was now partnered with me,
whose only qualification, as he was quick to point out,
was that l was born to some low-class individuals from Berlin.
lt was my hope that some of these individuals were still in safe hiding,
that my Jewish relatives had escaped Hitler's dreaded storm troopers,
and were somehow, somewhere,
still alive.
Your first sight of Berlin. Any impressions?
Pitch darkness - l was surrounded by it.
The city was blacked out, prepared for the night raids which hadn't yet begun.
Leave the luggage.
Not yours. Follow me.
Toilet, washbasin.
You'll stay in here until l decide what to do.
Come!
Come.
Uncle Putzi!
l'm sorry l frightened you. No one answered the door.
Herr Friedrichs is not at home.
well, he's wrong about your accent.
lt's charming.
Come. Come.
He said if your cooking was like your accent, it was strictly for the beer halls.
So, l'm taking a week off work to teach you some grammar and high German cuisine.
And believe me, you're going to need it.
we're putting you into Drescher's house in a week
to cook for a party which is most important to him.
His temper is legendary when things go wrong.
- My uncle didn't tell you l was coming? - l just arrived last night, FrAulein.
l'm Margrete von Eberstien
of the Klaus von Eberstiens.
My father, the baron, is an actual friend of Hitler.
Der Fuhrer's been to my house!
To tell you the truth, it's my mother he likes. She's a famous concert pianist.
And der Fuhrer, like Horst Drescher, is a man of great pretensions.
would you like to meet der Fuhrer, Lina?
Ed Leland says to tell you hello.
Margrete von Eberstien was no one l was prepared for.
And now
you must tell me all about Clark Gable.
ls he really married to Vivien Leigh?
But we were sisters from the start.
Our first job was to contact my courier, a fishmonger,
who would export any documents, microfilm or written messages
inside cartons of frozen fish to Norway.
- That's him? - Ja.
How does it work? l just go over?
Again, use the signal so he'll know who you are.
Pass a message for practice.
- what message? - Anything you like.
For practice, l wrote a message indicating l was looking for my relatives
Hannah, Liesel and Sofi Weiss.
- what is that? - My family.
we heard they're hiding in Berlin.
You're Jewish?!
Half.
Mein Gott, you've got guts.
My father calls it chutzpah.
- what is this? - American spy stuff.
There was a password.
- Ready? - Yeah.
Something about fish.
Codfish.
ls fresh cod in season?
ls cod in fresh s-season?
we are closed.
l meant is fresh cod in season?
- Alle Mann aussteigen aus dem Wagen. - Scheirwetter, Mensch!
where the hell is he? Kurt! Did you fall in?
Take it easy. what's the hurry?
- Gurke? - He doesn't like to be kept waiting.
Just tell him Kurt was on the toilet.
Heil Hitler.
Papers?
You got this at the Tauschmarkt?
- Yes. - My wife did, too.
what did you pay for it?
40 marks.
You overpaid.
Good for hiding money.
- Come! lt's getting late. - Let her be!
- The Commandant is waiting. - Hurry!
- Heil Hitler. - Heil Hitler.
- l thought they got you. - The damn purse flew open!
You're such a dope!
You're another!
My friendship with Margrete von Eberstien
was the closest that l'd ever known.
Did you wish to stop?
Something happened to her?
She was killed?
- we can stop for a bit. - No.
lt's important to tell you that she introduced me to her mother.
- Margrete, what if she suspects something? - Nonsense! She'll suspect nothing.
All she thinks about is herself.
- But what if she asks me... - what if? You'll never see this woman again.
Tomorrow you are going to the home of a barbarian. You'll never see my mother again.
And you?
will l see you again?
Come. Meet Hitler's favorite piano player.
You'll say l'm your cook?
l want to see her kiss a Jew.
well! lf it isn't my pretty girl!
How nice to see you.
- where have you been for so long? - Oh, Mother.
This is my friend from university. Lina von Klopper.
Von Klopper?
Her father is the Baron von Klopper of Pluhn. You know, the big castle of Pluhn?
That von Klopper. How nice to meet you, my dear.
A week after my arrival, Horst Drescher was to give a dinner party
that his chef would be unable to attend.
With just hours left before the party,
Herr Drescher would forego the required security checks
into the girl sent to replace him.
The idea being that l would so impress him with my cooking skills
that he'd decide he couldn't live without me.
No! That's enough basting. These have to go in the oven now. Oh, my God.
You don't need to do the stock anymore.
Help her with those doves in the oven. Please.
Let me taste this soup.
Excuse me!
May l ask you where the first course is? we have been seated for 15 minutes.
l'm sorry, Herr Drescher. The soup is ready now.
lt's supposed to be cold cucumber soup.
we serve it hot in Dusseldorf.
The doves aren't cooked yet?
The doves, we serve cold.
lt's like they knew we were coming. Everything was here.
Even toys for the children.
There were linens and towels, and can you believe the initials were HD?
Like ours! lt was perfect!
Yes, it was perfect. And so is the food tonight.
For my honored guest, Herr General Franze-Otto Dietrich,
a specialty from Dusseldorf:
hot cucumber soup.
So, how are the children enjoying Potsdam, Herr Dietrich?
Not much, l'm afraid. They miss their friends in Munich.
- Potsdam is so far away. - You should have moved into Berlin.
There's a Hitler Youth Corps in Potsdam. They will make friends.
They will.
we saw you on the news films at Berchtesgaden.
Hitler was looking well.
- l'm so sorry, Herr Dietrich. - Forgive me, mein Herr.
- No matter, no matter. - l'm sure it will come out.
The color suits me.
lt's all right.
A house is available in my neighborhood. Perfect for you and the children.
- Schools are better in Berlin. - So l believe.
My apologies. She just came today.
Really? where from?
- Dusseldorf. - She has been through a security check?
Of course, Herr Dietrich. with you here, l can assure you no one would come in this house.
- Just asking. - Highly recommended.
Good.
Delicious.
Makes me feel like a wolf.
Sie sind die dummste Kuchin, die jemals in diesem Haus hier gearbeitet hat.
Sie haben mich vor meinen besten GAsten blamiert.
lch werde dafur sorgen, dass Sie keine Arbeit mehr bekommen.
Niemals. Und jetzt raus hier!
what are you doing out here?
Don't you know it's dangerous?
wait.
wait. lt's me.
The soup?
- He dismissed you? - Yes.
The doves were raw.
l had no time. l arrived at six.
And you'll be home by ten. Can l drop you?
Yes.
Come.
So, where to?
Just straight on this street.
You're a foreigner.
Fresh from Dusseldorf. Yes?
Yes.
You're not really a cook, are you?
The agencies have done that to me as well.
Sent me two nannies who knew nothing about children.
Not that mine are easy.
Their mother died two years ago. They were naturally upset.
- How many? - Two.
That's not so many.
My father took care of eight.
with my help, of course.
l was the oldest.
You have an education?
Apparently not enough to cook doves.
He ate the whole thing to prove it was edible.
You should have seen him.
Pompous little ass,
eating a raw bird.
You know, it's hard to find suitable girls
who've already been through a complete Gestapo check.
l hate to let one get away.
l vanished that night without a trace,
unable to let anyone know what had happened, or why l'd been whisked away.
But having spotted the documents in Franze Dietrich's briefcase,
l had to break my promise to Ed Leland and stay.
lsolated in a small town outside the city,
l was cut off from all contact now,
biding my time as a humble German domestic from Dusseldorf
in a privileged German world.
Look! Papi!
- Bye-bye. - Come on.
As far as l was concerned, it couldn't have been planned better.
ln one quick jump, l'd landed in the upstairs chambers of one of the Third Reich's elite.
A house where names like Guring, Speer and von Stauffenberg topped the guest list,
and where l had no doubt that information critical to the German war effort was held.
But no matter how hard l searched, l could find nothing -
not the briefcase, nor anything even resembling an official document.
Whatever he brought home from the office was being hidden,
and l had no idea where.
Look there! Dieter!
- Dieter! - Dieter!
Be careful now.
Hi.
Franze! Franze, hallo.
Stayson! what a surprise!
Yes, what a surprise.
- well, hello. - Hello.
You know Miss Albrecht? Stayson von Neest.
You know Captain von Haefler of the Foreign Office.
- Von Haefler, nice to meet you again. - Of course!
You're the one who served the raw ducks. l was at Drescher's.
- Your old employer wants you back. - You can tell Drescher he's too late.
- No, it's her employer before that. - From Dusseldorf?
No, Friedrichs of the Foreign Office. The old gentleman.
He was all upset. He thought Drescher had done away with her.
Said she'd been working with him for years.
what was his name? From the Foreign Office?
Herr Konrad Friedrichs. The old gentleman.
..where the happy citizens of Berlin
are treated to the sight of
der Fuhrer
taking time out for the Heroes' Day Parade.
where, in a ceremony
at the Sports Palace,
he will watch new recruits
- being inducted... - Stop the film!
Stop the film!