Does Providence Work Both Ways? an Historical Look at an Unsuccessful Attempt Upon the Life of Adolf Hitler

It was early March, 1944, and Germany had already lost the war. Though expressing that fact to Adolf Hitler meant taking one's life in one's hands, and at best it would result in a loss of rank; perhaps a loss of life. Yours.

Though Hitler had ceased public appearances, mostly because of wartime demands on his schedule as well as his well-founded fear of assassination, the Führer would allow one regular deviation from his strict routine. Every few days, whenever he was in Munich, he would appear without advance warning for lunch at his favorite restaurant, a place called Osteria Bavaria owned by his good friend Hans Otto Krieger whom he had known since World War I. And this is where our story begins.

Summer, 1942. The Schumann family of Frankfurt am Main were given up as German Jews by an irate boyfriend of their daughter, Ilse. The family included Jakob, a butcher; mother Anna Lise; sons Rolf, 24, Willy, 22; and 20-year-old Ilse. Once she spurned her longtime German boyfriend for a Jewish boy she'd gone to school with, and who had found his way to Britain earlier in the year, the now ex-boyfriend retaliated by paying a visit to the Gestapo. There came the early morning knock on the door, and within a fortnight they were headed east.

The family arrived at Buchenwald where the men were transferred to another transport, and for a while Anna Lise and Ilse were put to work. Following a journey of twenty days the Schumann men landed in Sobibor, one of the most brutal camps in the Nazi regime.

There they were worked nearly night and day, and within six months both Jakob and Rolf would succumb to the effects of malnutrition and typhus. The same week Willy would learn that his mother and sister were shot in retribution for an attempted escape by prisoners in another barrack adjacent to theirs.

In light of the dreadful loss, and his own suffering, Willy held up. He was determined to get through the hell that had become his life any way he could. He would defy Hitler if it was the last thing he would ever do.

Then came providence for Willy.

The young man, who looked surprisingly "Aryan" with his pale complexion, piercing blue eyes, and yellow-blond hair, could easily pass for a German. In fact, the entire Schumann family bore these physical traits, which is how the family managed to stay below the Nazi's anti-Semitic radar for as long as they did. They weren't particularly religious, and had never made much personal ado about their family history even before the National Socialists were voted into power in 1933. To them, Hitler was an oddity that would pass soon enough.

One autumn day in 1943 Willy's chance arrived. He had caught wind of a massive escape that was planned for October 17^th, and he immediately seized on the opportunity to play a major role in the breakout. And on the afternoon of the escape a new contingent of guards was driven into the camp for a routine change-out. One of the guards bore a striking resemblance to Willy, and he made a mental note of it just moments before the escape was put into motion.

With the fitting of a new jacket and some jack boots for a particularly cruel SS guard as the ruse, the guard was dispatched and the flight was on. And within moments Willy sought his doppelganger and in the confusion of the moment cracked him on the head with a brick. He then stepped on his neck and broke it. Within seconds the dead soldier was stripped naked and his still-warm clothing riding upon the back of a newly freed orphan. The game was on.

As he ran out the gate he was given ammo and a rifle by camp guards, which he promptly turned on them. He took eight escaped prisoners "hostage" and shouted to an SS that he was marching them into the woods for summary execution. Two of the "prisoners" recognized their friend immediately and passed the word in Yiddish. But in their zeal and happiness, they had forgotten about the many landmines planted near the trees, and one young man who was running ahead of the group tripped a mine and was killed instantly. Willy was knocked unconscious, his last sight being smoke behind a guard tower. All went dark.

He doesn't remember how long it was, but he awoke to the smell of rubbing alcohol and remembers seeing "A lot of white; everything was white." He was in hospital. He was still wearing the long underwear and SS trousers, and the shrapnel was still in his leg. He had not yet been seen by the doctors. Thankfully for him, the shrapnel was well below the belt. His greatest fear at the moment would be that medical personnel would catch a glimpse of his manhood which would, because of his circumcision, would betray his true roots. At the moment he had the perfect cover; wounded SS man who was wounded in the performance of his duty.

He never did see a doctor. A corpsman from a Wermacht detachment worked with a nurse and with little in the way of anesthesia removed the offending metal. He stayed in the hospital for two more weeks, was given a cache of Reich marks, and was told to go home to Munich. Munich was the hometown of the now deceased SS man, Laurentz Gossenmeiner. The new Laurentz boarded a train for Munich the next day, and arrived in town barely believing it could be possible.

He was separated from the military due to his wounds, and the medical packet that had been prepared for him said that he would always walk with a limp. He was given full benefits, and was also given a job; host at a local eatery called the Oster Bavarian.

One Wednesday afternoon, about six weeks after he started at the restaurant, a commotion was heard in the main dining room. Willy's boss stuck his head in the kitchen door with an excited, "He's here!" Who, Willy wondered, could cause this kind of a stir on a sleepy Wednesday?

Then what he saw nearly made him feint. Walking through the dining room, on his way to the private banquet room, was Adolf Hitler and his close personal staff. And what really surprised him was that no one seemed surprised. It was later that he learned this was common occurrence at the Oster Bavarian. And the plan was hatched. He was going to avenge his family and rid the world of its biggest menace. Adolf Hitler would die, and he would be the cause of it. But how?

Since arriving in Munich Willy had become active in a small partisan group headed by the former cantor of a long-since shuttered Temple. David Sterner was a master weapons technician and was a hell of a shot. He could be described as a sniper; the problem was, the equipment of the day wasn't up to his talents, so he was always handicapped by the lack of weaponry that could do anything really constructive. Others in the group advocated bombs, but he felt they were too uncontrollable; too messy. When he heard Willy's report on Hitler's frequent visits to the Bavarian, and the young man's willingness to play the major part, the training began.

It took three months to get Willy up to par, but it happened without incident, and with a willing student. Came the day Willy Schumann was declared ready. From that day forward a Luger lay ready in a leather pouch sewed into his trousers with a slit pocket that would easily facilitate its egress. Now it became a waiting game.

And now Hitler's providence would appear.

For weeks Willy waited, gun at the ready. And for weeks Hitler didn't show. Then one day his boss called him upstairs. This had never happened before; was the jig up? Had the partisans been rounded up without his knowledge? He climbed the stairs and knocked on the office door. Upon entering the first thing he saw was a uniformed soldier sitting across from Krieger, the restaurant owner.

"Willy, please come in," he said. "There's someone I want you to meet." Isn't this always the way, Willy thought. The cat and mouse arrogance of the capture. He debated whether or not he should get the jump by pulling the gun. "Hello," Willy said, tentatively. Krieger smiled, "I'd like you to meet my son. He's visiting us on leave this week!" The sigh of relief must have been audible, but it was ignored, thankfully.

Then Krieger got down to brass tacks.

"I'd like you to clear out your locker right now, and go with my son to our hotel on Himmelplatz. You won't be working here anymore. I'm promoting you to training waiter at the hotel restaurant."

Willy had just been given a raise and a promotion, and to turn it down would raise suspicions. So there was nothing left to do but graciously accept the offer.

He left the Bavarian within moments of the meeting, and he learned from a friend at the restaurant that about two hours after he had left, that the Führer had arrived for a leisurely luncheon.

There are over eighty recorded attempts and plots against Adolf Hitler during the twelve years he reigned supreme. Of those, only a handful were serious. And while not as well known as Operation Valkyrie, which is the subject of the new Tom Cruise movie set to open Christmas Day 2008, it was nevertheless considered to be the one plot that, had providence remained neutral, would have likely succeeded.

But perhaps all happened as it should. While few would have shed a tear at the loss of Hitler and his crew, there is something to be said for events playing out as they must. Because of his deplorable actions, and the many eyewitness accounts and the records of his deeds which survived the war years, fewer nations have attempted in recent times to follow such paths to destruction. And those that do are recognized as who and what they are in a much faster fashion. But whatever the case, two people of complete opposition were each visited by providence, and were sheltered by it. And one of them lived to see the day that justice finally meted out.

Willy Schumann lived to be 84 years old and ended up buying the building in Frankfurt that was his family's home. He passed away on the garden terrace where his mother once tended edelweiss and laurels.