Mussolini reclined in an imposing leather chair in Francesco’s Vatican office, a room that breathed power and influence. The scent of Cuban cigars wafted through the air, a tangible symbol of their shared triumph. Mussolini was a maelstrom of emotion, brimming with confidence yet humbled by the magnitude of the mission entrusted to him just eighteen months prior. His destiny was clear, his role in this grand scheme pivotal; he was ready to play his part to perfection.
“Your guidance has been invaluable, counselor,” Mussolini confessed, his voice laced with gratitude and a hint of regret over his past doubts. “I underestimated the reach of your influence in our great city.”
“Our connections are not just vast, Prime Minister—they are effective,” Francesco replied, his tone hinting at the power his organization wielded.
“I am, and will forever remain, in your service.”
“To your success, Prime Minister,” Francesco proposed, striding over to the bar to pour two glasses of his finest Cognac. Mussolini rose and crossed the room to accept the glass of exquisite Hermitage Grande Champagne Cognac from Francesco’s prized collection. They raised their glasses in a toast and the clink of crystal echoed throughout the room, a symphony of celebration for Mussolini’s greatest achievement yet.
Chapter 23
20 October 1923
Tuesday
Munich, Bavaria, Germany
“Do you have everything prepared for the rally?” Cardinal Pacelli probed Hitler, his voice laced with anticipation and a hint of urgency.
“Every detail, as per your instructions, Your Excellency.”
“As you know, last year’s uprising in Rome was a triumph. Mussolini now holds the reins of power in Italy. The liberal Italian government has been effectively decapitated,” Cardinal Pacelli declared, thrusting a year-old newspaper towards Hitler as evidence.
“Do you foresee us seizing control of the Bavarian government in a comparable manner?”
“That is the goal. However, regardless of the outcome, I anticipate this uprising will catapult you into the public eye. That is of the utmost importance, Adolf.”
“I trust your guidance, Your Excellency.”
Hitler’s loyalty to the Nuncio of Germany was unshakable—he had witnessed the cardinal’s influence permeating throughout the whole of Germany. Hitler understood that his own climb to the pinnacle of power within Parliament was a game of endurance, a test of his personal patience. As Cardinal Pacelli continued to fortify his position, weaving his influence deeper into the fabric of the German hierarchy, Hitler knew that his own ascension to power would inevitably follow.
With the cardinal subtly manipulating the German elite, it wouldn’t be long before he was facilitating crucial introductions for Hitler. He saw Pacelli’s predictions materializing before his eyes. He could almost taste his rise to power in the Third Reich, so long as he just clung to the cardinal’s coattails.
His destiny as the Führer, the ultimate leader, seemed all but guaranteed.
8 November 1923
Friday Evening
Bürgerbräukeller Beer Hall
Munich, Germany
Hitler, backed by a formidable force of 600 members from his Sturmabteilung paramilitary organization, stormed into the bustling beer hall meeting of three thousand attendees. Enraged by Gustav Ritter von Kahr’s decision to call off the revolution, Hitler and his associates seized the moment, capitalizing on the burgeoning unrest and the populace’s support. Hermann Göring, the formidable leader of the Sturmabteilung, spearheaded the audacious intrusion into Bürgerbräukeller Beer Hall.
Hitler, flanked by the likes of Rudolf Hess and his six other loyalists, navigated through the sea of startled faces in the crowded auditorium. Struggling to command the attention of the crowd, Hitler, in a dramatic display of authority, climbed onto a chair with his pistol raised. The deafening sound of a gunshot echoed through the hall as he fired a round into the ceiling. His voice boomed, “The national revolution has broken out! This hall is surrounded by six hundred men. Nobody is allowed to leave.”
With the crowd now hanging onto his every word, his voice gnashed with authority. “The Bavarian government has been deposed. There is now a new government, under the command of General Ludendorff.”
Then Hitler, flanked by the unwavering Rudolf Hess and his loyal associates, herded Kahr and associates into a secluded room and demanded their support for the putsch. After enduring hours of intense negotiations stalled by Kahr’s stubborn refusal to comply, Hitler re-emerged into the cavernous beer hall. Addressing the restless crowd, his voice reached every heart and soul. “Outside are Kahr, Lossow, and Seisser. They are struggling hard to reach a decision. May I say to them you will stand behind them?”
The crowd responded with an overwhelming, deafening roar of approval signaling their unanimous agreement to proceed with the putsch.
Hitler masterfully manipulated the crowd’s emotions, his voice resonating with passion and determination. “You can see what motivates us is neither self-conceit nor self-interest, but only a burning desire to join the battle. We are in the grave eleventh hour in the fight for our German Fatherland.” He paused, letting his words sink in before delivering his final chilling statement. “One last thing I can tell you: either the German revolution begins tonight, or we will all be dead by dawn!”
The crowd’s response was an earth-shaking roar of approval. The sheer volume of their support did not go unnoticed by the three holdouts. They could not ignore Hitler’s skill in swaying the crowd. They knew they had no choice but to comply.
As the clock struck 11:00 p.m., General Ludendorff emerged from the shadows, his presence a beacon of influence and power. His mission was clear—to sway Kahr, Lossow, and Seisser to join the brewing revolution. With his persuasive prowess and commanding aura, he managed to extract a reluctant agreement from the trio.
For the next several hours, confusion and unrest permeated the air. Government officials, armed forces, police units, and ordinary citizens all found themselves at a crossroads, torn between their loyalty to the crumbling government and the allure of a radical uprising led by the nascent Nazi Party. The question hung heavy in the city—remain faithful to a failing regime, or join the clamor for change demanded by the German people?
As dawn broke, the disorganized coup, lacking strong leadership, crumbled under its own weight. State police and armed soldiers descended upon the rebels, their ambush heralded by a hailstorm of bullets, leaving four state police and sixteen Nazis dead. The remaining Nazis either scattered or were rounded up and arrested. Hitler, Hess, and Ludendorff fled Munich, narrowly escaping the authorities’ clutches.
10 November 1923
Sunday Evening
Munich, Germany
The late-night shadows seemed to pirouette on the ancient walls, casting an eerie glow around the room. Hitler, shrouded in a cloak of anonymity, had managed to infiltrate Pacelli’s residence, skillfully eluding the relentless pursuit of the state police and officials who were tirelessly hunting him down.
The city was a cauldron of clashing emotions and simmering tension. A substantial segment of the population, disillusioned by the current government’s surrender to the Versailles Treaty, were rallying behind the insurrection against the established political regime. Yet there was an overbearing fear of the unknown, a reluctance to embrace the emergent Nazi Party. Could these Nazis truly provide a panacea for the citizens’ hardships? There were even hushed murmurs of support for the rebellion within the sacred corridors of Parliament itself, yet none were audacious enough to speak up in public for fear of risking their esteemed positions for the sake of this unproven Nazi Party. Their loyalty, albeit begrudgingly, remained tethered to the weakened and defunct government.
“I have failed you, Your Excellency,” Hitler confessed, his whisper piercing the hushed silence of Cardinal Pacelli’s private study.
“This is merely a bump in the road, Adolf, a stepping stone on our path,” Pacelli reassured him, his voice steady and comforting. “We will seize this opportunity to launch you into the limelight. Trust me, Adolf.”
“I don’t see . . .” Hitler began, but his voice trailed off, uncertainty clouding his words.
