It was the quickest way into the Fuehrer's underground bunker where he had met his end two months before. Rhys, a 22-year-old British soldier, was among the first Westerners allowed to enter the dictator's lair following the end of the Second World War.
Now 88 and living in a Metro Vancouver care centre, Rhys has come forward for the first time to tell us of his wartime experiences and what he found among a pile of junk in Hitler's study.
``Berlin was a shambles. Broken fixtures and furniture were everywhere, covered by splintered glass,'' says Rhys, a retired accountant, in his unpublished memoirs.
Rhys, who was a British subject, ended up in the heart of Nazi Germany on the Allied Control Commission because he had been raised in prewar Berlin and spoke fluent German.
He was thus uniquely qualified to suss out hiding places among the ruins, locate some rare Nazi artifacts and spirit them away from ever-watchful Russian sentries.
The wealth of material he gathered tells its own story of the infamous Third Reich.
* Eerie sights
As a child, Rhys played in the magnificent Tiergarten Park in central Berlin, feeding seeds to a crowd of chickadees. But the mood turned dark in the Depression-ravaged 1930s. One time he was punched out by a group of ``loutish youths'' who also stomped on a cap given to him for Christmas.
By July, 1945, Rhys hardly recognized the city. Hungry people wandered amid the rubble and Rhys was needed to guide the Allies around the city.
One day he joined a group of Americans descending into the bunker, which had been kept dark since Hitler's death.
Diesel-driven ventilators were silent, so Rhys' candles cast eerie shadows on the walls.
The air had a pungent odour, the result of pitch from torches used by the Russians, whose army was first into the city.
Hitler's lounge, where he and Eva Braun committed suicide, was right where the map said it should be, at the foot of the exit stairs.
Even though weeks had passed since their joint suicide, no one had bothered to remove the blood-stained furniture. Rhys noticed his ``velvet sofa and carpet,'' but was unimpressed.
``It was just a job to be done at the time,'' he says.
* A broken Berlin
During his travels through the broken masonry, Rhys took a trip several blocks away to the apartment where his family had left everything behind five days before the war. He says the destruction was ``awesome.''
The once-beautifully treed Tiergarten had been cut down for fuel and turned into a ``moonscape'' by explosions. Many of the zoo's animals were dead.
Hungry Berliners scavenged for food and used hand-drawn carts to pull their worldly belongings.
German women faked serious skin diseases to reduce the chances of being sexually assaulted by Russian troops bent on vengeance. He says people tried to gain sympathy in job interviews by forging concentration camp-type tattoos on their wrists.
Albert Speer's architectural marvel was a building in the government district called the new Reich Chancellery.
It combined Hitler's official residence with grand halls as big as anything in Europe.
Inside Hitler's extra-large study, Rhys says his safe was still unopened.
The Fuhrer's bedroom was tiny by comparison, measuring just 12 square feet.
Rummaging around the piles of soggy debris - the roof was open to the rain - Rhys spotted two undamaged boxes lying on shelves.
``I was thrilled to find several dry boxes,'' he says. ``There was a gilded dinner guest invitation from Hitler and table seating cards for state banquets. ''
Two important finds lay among the badges, plaques and SS epaulettes.
One was an Iron Cross, First Class, accompanied by an award certificate signed by Hitler himself.
Another signed certificate and medal with a winged eagle was to be given for exemplary public service.
Hitler, who was last photographed handing out medals to teary-eyed youngsters above the bunker just days before his death, hadn't lived long enough to present either commendation.
Rhys says he immediately realized the items had historical significance and were keepers.
But the problem was the Russians, who were everywhere at that time.
``I tucked all the memorabilia into my uniform tunic, which made me look quite portly,'' he says.
With the guards none the wiser, Rhys and his artifacts slipped out, eventually making their way to Vancouver.
* Mini-history of the Reich
Rhys's collection is a mini-history of the Armed Forces in the Third Reich.
Many of the items are tiny three-dimensional models of planes, tanks, eagles and swastikas. Some are mounted as badges or put on pins.
There is a Luftwaffe pilot's wings, a tank commander's badge and purple heart-type medals for combat injuries.
A couple of SS shoulder badges worn by Hitler's personal guards came from the bunker itself as those near him desperately tore away any association with the dead man.
Rhys' son Brian says the collection will remain in the family's possession safely locked away in a bank vault.
``As time passed, the significance of the events has become clearer,'' says Rhys' other son David. ``We wanted to celebrate dad's service and contribution. There is no plans to sell the artifacts or for them to leave the family, but it's possible they could be loaned to a museum in the future.''
Few sights are as chilling as the signature of the man who sent millions to their deaths.
Mark Jackson, manager at the Command Post military store in Victoria, says Hitler's signature changed five or six times over the years.
At the end, it was little more than a squiggle on a sheet of paper.
``His last signature was a scrawl because he was an absolute mess,'' says Jackson.
Simon Offord, archivist at the Imperial War Museum in London, England, says Rhys' artifacts are ``quite rare.''
But he says the signature on them could be just a machine-generated copy because 300,000 Iron Crosses were given out during the war. ``Hitler wouldn't be able to sign them all,'' says Offord.
``It is possible, however, that he may have personally signed these particular certificates, which would indeed make them quite valuable,'' says Offord.
Brian Rhys says the family was curious about the signature and showed it to a friend who had once been a handwriting expert for the RCMP. He says the friend authenticated the signature as an original.
Jackson says collectors of German war memorabilia are not usually looking to glorify the Nazi's war crimes, but indulging in a fascination for the Germans' well-recognized military prowess.
``The German collectibles market is the biggest in the world. A lot of German designers were very artistic and their badges have a lot of effort put into them. The Iron Crosses were always made of silver and iron even during the last month of the war,'' he says.
A document with a facsimile of Hitler signature is worth up to $300; Iron Crosses can go for $500.
He estimates Rhys' items are likely worth a few thousand dollars.
* Artifacts a remarkable story
Mark Zuehlke, who has written extensively about the Canadian Army's wartime exploits, says Rhys' story is quite remarkable.
``It is incredibly unique that these artifacts should have fallen into Rhys' hands,'' he says.
``The Russians were incredibly security conscious. They would not willingly have shared anything like these artifacts,'' says Zuehlke.
After the war, Rhys moved to Vancouver, where he met his British-born wife Pat. They raised two boys and he worked as an auditor for B.C. Telephone for 38 years.
Rhys's memoirs have been written in a matter-of-fact tone from the hand of a man accustomed to dealing with dry facts and observations.
Few emotions are expressed - and Rhys' memory is failing so much today that he is unable to add to the written record.
But his son Brian says he will show him a copy of The Province story on Remembrance Day.
Source: canada
