Gaining entry to Hitler’s bunker

It was September 1946, and I was stationed at RAF Gatow in Berlin when my German colleague Ruth and I decided we would attempt to visit Hitler’s bunker.

To get there we had to go through the ruins of the Reich Chancellery. It must have been a beautiful building with lofty and spacious rooms; now very badly damaged.

We eventually reached the entrance to the bunker, which looked just like any other air raid shelter. We were now in the Russian sector of Berlin, and two Russian soldiers were on guard. They tried – and failed – to look smart when they saw us approaching. We couldn’t communicate but eventually they understood that we wanted to take a photograph with them, and they seemed happy to oblige.

Thinking this might endear us to our ‘new friends’, we tried to pass through the entrance, but a rifle and a body suddenly barred our way. The guard started to speak in Russian, and it was obvious that he wanted something before he would let us pass.

At that moment, a German policeman appeared and told us that they needed a pass with a signature. Apparently to a Russian a signature meant everything. Though we didn’t have one, an idea suddenly struck me. Gambling that any official-looking signed document might work, I took a hairdressing chit from my bag. The guard examined the very nice signature then let us through.

Pat with the Russian guards, 1946 © Pat Troup

We descended a concrete staircase. On the walls, hundreds of people had left their scribbled signatures, and I couldn’t resist adding mine. The bunker was extensive, containing a living room, dining room, drinking room, telephone exchange, bathroom and three or four bedrooms.

When we reached the end of the staircase, there was a long corridor that contained two beds for guards.

The first room we entered was the drinking room, where Hitler and his friends no doubt made merry during many an air raid. The next room was Hitler’s bedroom, which contained an already-blown safe. The carpet on the floor had been cut to pieces, no doubt by souvenir gatherers, and I took a piece myself.

The adjacent bathroom had been completely stripped of all the fittings, but some tiles were still on the walls. Again I decided to take a piece as a souvenir.

Hitler had a small room for his dog, Blondie, off his bedroom, and I was shocked to see the bones and outline of the dog’s body, which had been burned. We went through the remainder of the rooms, all very much in the same state, and came to the surgery, which appeared to have plenty of modern equipment.

Having completed our tour of the bunker, we came out to the surface again, and saw the area where the bodies of Hitler, Eva Braun and others had been burned. You could still see teeth, false or otherwise, lying on the ground. Petrol cans lay cordoned off nearby.

As we headed back towards the Chancellery a man appeared. He offered to exchange a medal for cigarettes, which were in many ways the currency in Berlin at the time. I accepted, and later found the medal to be a Gold Cross of Honour of the German Mother, awarded to any German mother who had produced eight or more children for the Reich.

Pat today © Pat Troup

Elizabeth Patricia ‘Pat’ Troup (née Humphreys) joined the RAF in March 1944 as a Flight Mechanic, aged 18. She was posted to Berlin in January 1946 and took part in the Berlin Airlift. Pat left the RAF in 1952 but continued as a reserve for several years. She is a member of the Association’s Shaftesbury Branch