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Kehlsteinhaus: Hitler's Eagle's Nest

Despite the fact that it is June, the temperature outside is a cool 50 degrees Fahrenheit, but what do you expect when you're in the German Alps? My friends Kenneth, Sal and I have just arrived by train to the town of Berchtesgaden, Germany after an extremely hung-over morning in the aftermath of a Salzburg barhopping spree. Even though the native birds were chirping, German kids were happily going to school and the crisp, mountain air was blowing through the pine trees, but to us it was way too early in the morning to have a thought other than "Where's the bathroom I gotta hurl!" There was a definite reason why we are out and about though.

The three of us hop on the #38 Kehlstein Busabfahrt headed up the narrow winding road through the Konigsee, which in other cases would be an amazing experience, but anyone who has ever drank too much knows that dips and turns in the road are not as interesting as they sound. We all arrive at the entrance to this most infamous tunnel, safe and slightly sound. Once we enter the passageway my hang-over becomes a thing of the past, just like the boots that I imagine walking down this corridor.

Deep inside the mountain we get to an elevator attended by a large and intimidating serviceman. The intimidation soon leaves once I find out it is actually a stereotypical East German woman who politely informs us that the actual elevator is gold-plated. The elevator takes a lot longer than expected and just at the moment when my stomach is starting to decide that it doesn't like cramped places even if said place is surrounded by gold, the doors open up to reveal the most amazing mountain view I have ever experienced. As I take in the absolute beauty, something catches the corner of my eye.
I take a second glance not actually thinking that something so beautiful can be loved by something so evil, but I realize that it can, because it has. There is an inscription on the wall that reads "Kehlsteinhaus: Adolf Hitler's Eagle's Nest." My knees buckle, not because of the booze or the sleep deprivation, but because at this moment I am actually standing where some of the most evil and horrendous thoughts were imagined and put to work. The reality sets in and all thoughts about parties or who my next girlfriend for the night will be, succumbs to the history of the place in which I am standing.

I could stand here for hours on end, but then something hits me in the back of my head and I see my friend Sal with the camera and Kenneth with another snowball getting ready to assault me with a ball of frozen water and another dose of reality. A thought finally goes through my head that says "Hey dude, you just stood where Hitler stood, which is cool and all, but you better dodge this next snowball or else its going to hit you in the face."

Learn more about this author, Steven Groetken.
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