The meteoric rise of Adolf Hitler and the Nazi Party cowed the masses into a sense of false utopia. During Hitler’s 1932 election campaign over half those who voted for Hitler were women. Germany’s women had witnessed the anarchy of the post-First World War years, and the chaos brought about by the rival political gangs brawling on their streets. When Hitler came to power there was at last a ray of hope that this man of the people would restore not only political stability to Germany but prosperity to its people. As reforms were set in place, Hitler encouraged women to step aside from their jobs and allow men to take their place. As the guardian of the home, the women of Hitler’s Germany were pinned as the very foundation for a future thousand-year Reich. Not every female in Nazi Germany readily embraced the principle of living in a society where two distinct worlds existed, however with the outbreak of the Second World War, Germany’s women would soon find themselves on the frontline. Ultimately Hitler’s housewives experienced mixed fortunes throughout the years of the Second World War. Those whose loved ones went off to war never to return; those who lost children not only to the influences of the Hitler Youth but the Allied bombing; those who sought comfort in the arms of other young men and those who would serve above and beyond of exemplary on the German home front. Their stories form intimate and intricately woven tales of life, love, joy, fear and death. Hitler’s Housewives: German Women on the Home Front is not only an essential document towards better understanding one of the twentieth century’s greatest tragedies where the women became an inextricable link, but also the role played by Germany’s women on the home front which ultimately became blurred within the horrors of total war. This is their story, in their own words, told for the first time.

The story of the leading Nazi wives and their experience of the rise and fall of Nazism, from its beginnings to its post-war twilight of denial and delusion.

About the participation of German women in World War II and in the Holocaust.

The “frank, tragic, bittersweet, brutal, emotional” true story of the Third Reich’s so-called she-devils of the League of German Girls (Gerry Van Tonder, author of Berlin Blockade). They were ten to eighteen years old: German girls who volunteered for the war effort, and were indoctrinated into the Nazi youth organizations, Jungmädelbund and Bund Deutcscher Mädel. At first they were schooled in a very narrow education: how to cook, clean, excel at sports, birth babies, and raise them. But when Hitler called, they were trained, militarized, and exploited for the ultimate goal of the Third Reich. From the prosperous beginnings of the League of German Girls in 1933 to the cataclysmic defeat of 1945, Hitler’s Girls is an insightful, disturbing, and revealing exploration of their specific roles: what was expected of them, and how they delivered, as defined by the Nazi state. Were they unwitting pawns or willing accessories to genocide? Historian Tim Heath searches for the answers and provides a definitive voice for this unique, and until now, unheard generation of German females. “An essential account of the women who served Hitler during his years of power. Stunning photographs but a chilling narrative, in view of what they were required to do.” —Books Monthly

This unique biography examines Hitler’s many female relationships, from his mother and sisters to his girlfriends, secretaries, and adoring public. To most of the world, Adolf Hitler was a ranting, evil demagogue whose insane ambitions caused incalculable harm to humanity. But to the women in his life, he was kind, compassionate, and loving—a man to be admired and adored. In Hitler and His Women, historian Phil Carradice explores the Fuhrer’s many relationships with women, from his romantic involvements to his interactions with female staff and the thousands of women who flocked to hear him speak. While many are familiar with Eva Braun, she was not alone in her role as the Fuhrer’s lover. Dozens of women preceded her, including Mitzi Reiter, Henny Hoffmann, and his own niece Geli Raubal. To them and many others, Hitler was the ultimate romantic. From deep familial bonds to a teenage infatuation with a girl he never met, from actresses like Zara Leander to English aristocrat Unity Mitford, Carradice examines how Hitlers relationships with women affected the course of history.

A masterly and moving account of the most horrific hidden atrocity of World War II: Ravensbrück, the only Nazi concentration camp built for women On a sunny morning in May 1939 a phalanx of 867 women—housewives, doctors, opera singers, politicians, prostitutes—was marched through the woods fifty miles north of Berlin, driven on past a shining lake, then herded in through giant gates. Whipping and kicking them were scores of German women guards. Their destination was Ravensbrück, a concentration camp designed specifically for women by Heinrich Himmler, prime architect of the Holocaust. By the end of the war 130,000 women from more than twenty different European countries had been imprisoned there; among the prominent names were Geneviève de Gaulle, General de Gaulle’s niece, and Gemma La Guardia Gluck, sister of the wartime mayor of New York. Only a small number of these women were Jewish; Ravensbrück was largely a place for the Nazis to eliminate other inferior beings—social outcasts, Gypsies, political enemies, foreign resisters, the sick, the disabled, and the “mad.” Over six years the prisoners endured beatings, torture, slave labor, starvation, and random execution. In the final months of the war, Ravensbrück became an extermination camp. Estimates of the final death toll by April 1945 have ranged from 30,000 to 90,000. For decades the story of Ravensbrück was hidden behind the Iron Curtain, and today it is still little known. Using testimony unearthed since the end of the Cold War and interviews with survivors who have never talked before, Sarah Helm has ventured into the heart of the camp, demonstrating for the reader in riveting detail how easily and quickly the unthinkable horror evolved. Far more than a catalog of atrocities, however, Ravensbrück is also a compelling account of what one survivor called “the heroism, superhuman tenacity, and exceptional willpower to survive.” For every prisoner whose strength failed, another found the will to resist through acts of self-sacrifice and friendship, as well as sabotage, protest, and escape. While the core of this book is told from inside the camp, the story also sheds new light on the evolution of the wider genocide, the impotence of the world to respond, and Himmler’s final attempt to seek a separate peace with the Allies using the women of Ravensbrück as a bargaining chip. Chilling, inspiring, and deeply unsettling, Ravensbrück is a groundbreaking work of historical investigation. With rare clarity, it reminds us of the capacity of humankind both for bestial cruelty and for courage against all odds.

A New York Times bestseller, Norman Ohler's Blitzed is a "fascinating, engrossing, often dark history of drug use in the Third Reich” (Washington Post). The Nazi regime preached an ideology of physical, mental, and moral purity. Yet as Norman Ohler reveals in this gripping history, the Third Reich was saturated with drugs: cocaine, opiates, and, most of all, methamphetamines, which were consumed by everyone from factory workers to housewives to German soldiers. In fact, troops were encouraged, and in some cases ordered, to take rations of a form of crystal meth—the elevated energy and feelings of invincibility associated with the high even help to account for the breakneck invasion that sealed the fall of France in 1940, as well as other German military victories. Hitler himself became increasingly dependent on injections of a cocktail of drugs—ultimately including Eukodal, a cousin of heroin—administered by his personal doctor. Thoroughly researched and rivetingly readable, Blitzed throws light on a history that, until now, has remained in the shadows. “Delightfully nuts.”—The New Yorker