In my own unpublished memoirs, which have been read by only a few authorised friends, I describe the "insect" episode in more detail

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The Box on the Back Seat
The Box on the Back Seat
One theme overshadowed my interviews with Hitler’s People – the
Jewish tragedy: the Final Solution.* How much had they known,
what had been said in Hitler’s presence? There had been virtually
no mention of it in the post-memoirs of the Allied good and great;
and for that matter, what place had it in a Hitler biography either?
The answer was this: If I were William Shirer, writing on the
rise and fall of the Third Reich, it would be quite proper just to lay
responsibility at Hitler’s door. He was the head of State.
I was however a Hitler biographer: I was dissecting the person,
and not the post, and it became relevant to think the unthinkable,
and to inquire how far he himself was involved, or had been shield-
ed from the ugliest decisions.
The absence of any direct paper trail, or any archival evidence,
even after sixty years or more, was what required me to start
thinking outside the conventional frame. Could it be, as SS Ober-
gruppenführer Karl Wolff had put it, that Himmler, his chief, had
* The Final Solution of the Jewish Problem went through many different
shades of meaning as the years passed, and depending on whose lips were
speaking the phrase. The first Foreign Ministry file labeled Endlösung der
Judenfrage was dated 1936.

david irving Confidential Draft of Memoirs102
decided to act on his own and that “the Messiah of the coming
two thousand years” should be kept immaculate?1 So Wolff quoted
Himmler in his private papers; but Wolff himself was quite defi-
nitely in the know, however much he protested his ignorance later.
Typical of the plight of my critics was one signal which they of-
fered, signed by Gestapo chief Heinrich Müller on August 1, 1941,
asking for Anschauungsmaterial, visual materials, on the operations
of the Einsatzkommandos, the SS task forces, to be sent in for Hitler
to look at. The document was considered [robust] enough for de-
fence lawyers to spring it on me in the Lipstadt Trial in 2000, but it
had only the flimsiest of pedigrees – it came from a Moscow source,
it was a typed copy, the file-number provided by Lipstadt’s lawyers
did not exist, there were no supporting or contextual papers, and
no reference to it, dated before or since, had turned up in the ar-
chives. Besides, what did “visual materials” mean? Or “activities”
for that matter – because in addition to the more murderous ones,
the task forces had a dozen different tasks to perform in the East,
mostly Intelligence gathering.
As for Hitler, there was not a single wartime document showing
he knew of the Holocaust, and there isn’t one even now. Since 1965
I had trawled through the archives and found no Hitler order, nor
even evidence that he knew what was going on.
On January 19 (••) 1945, told by Generaloberst Heinz Gude-
rian that the Red Army had now overrun Auschwitz, Hitler’s only
mild response, recorded by the relays of stenographers, was a re-
signed, “Jawohl” – okay. The name Auschwitz meant nothing to
him. [Auschwitz was overrun Jan 27, 1945; the Lagebesprechung was
however – mistakenly? - dated earlier, I think.]
To my mind these stenographers, together with the adjutants and
secretaries, were a vital source. On Hitler’s orders Bormann had
recruited a dozen verbatim stenographers in September 1942, to
write down every word spoken in his presence; they were the elite
in a very specialized profession. The Americans interrogated them
closely, and all said the same thing: the topic never came up in his
presence.

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The Box on the Back Seat
I located the interrogating officer concerned (•• add name
source), and he provided copies of his reports to me. I located sev-
eral of the twelve stenographers – including Karl Thöt, Ludwig
Krieger, and Heinz Buchholz (one, Heinrich Berger, had been killed
by Stauffenberg’s bomb).
I was not the threatening presence that the Americans had been,
and I won these men’s confidence; but I got the same answer.
I was very impressed by these civil servants; they all needed
postgraduate degrees to qualify as government stenographers.
I found that Dr Krieger lived only a stone’s throw from the Ger-
man Parliament building in Bonn, where he was still employed as
a verbatim stenographer. He had kept all his papers. In World War
I he had been personal secretary to the legendary Colonel Walter
Nikolai, head of Military Intelligence, and he produced to me his
shorthand diaries of that earlier life as well; he had never been asked
about them, and although I sent strong recommendations to both
the Federal Archives and the Institut für Zeitgeschichte, the diaries
are to be feared lost by now.
Krieger had much to tell me. He described the May 1943 war
conference at which Vice-Admiral Wilhelm Canaris, the Abwehr
Intelligence Chief, reported to Hitler that a body of a British officer
had floated ashore, carrying in his document pouch top-secret let-
ters which apparently revealed that the Allies were about to invade
Sardinia, and not Sicily as common sense dictated.
“I was dying to interrupt,” Krieger told me, “and say that this
could well be a British Intelligence plant. But as a mere stenogra-
pher, of course I had to remain completely silent.”
Canaris insisted that the documents were genuine.
“Even as Hitler was leaving the conference room,” continued
Krieger, “he suddenly turned back and said: ‘Herr Admiral, might
this not just be a British trick, to fool us into believing that they will
be invading Sardinia, instead of Sicily?’”
Once again Hitler was right, as events proved; but since the
Battle of Stalingrad he had lost his sureness of touch, his Fingers-
pitzengefühl.

david irving Confidential Draft of Memoirs104
Karl Thöt showed me his shorthand diary covering his three years
with Hitler. It was a curiously spectral volume, containing only
frameworks, so to speak – settings and scenes, but not the actual
top secret stuff that made up the twice daily situation conferences
he was recording.
I persuaded him to spend a day dictating the diary onto tape
for me; it contained all the little detail, the local colour which is the
very stuff of history and the personalities who make it come true:
At the noon conference the heater promised by the Führer is indeed
there – a small china stove. . . In the afternoon, before a brief reception
of seven officers handpicked for special missions for which the Führer
briefs them in a short speech, he inquired in General Schmundt’s pres-
ence whether the stove was warm enough for us. When we said it was,
he was hugely pleased and laughed out loud.2
The horrors that these stenographers heard, the plain truth
of their fatherland’s situation, crippled by the world’s onslaught,
ablaze from end to end with horrifying air raids, undermined by
treachery, eroded by starvation and pestilence – the grim truth was
so frightful that two of the stenographers buckled under the mental
strain and suffered nervous breakdowns within days of starting.
Unlike the generals and admirals, who each heard only their own
sector, then saluted, clicked their heels and left, these humble
scribes, like their Führer himself, heard it all.
Among the private papers of stenographer Ludwig Krieger I
found a note dated December 13, 1945: “In the Führer conferences
which I reported in shorthand there was never any mention of the
atrocities against the Jews. For the present it must remain an un-
answered question, whether Hitler himself issued specific orders
. . . or whether orders issued in generalized terms were executed by
subordinates and sadists in this brutal and vile manner.”
As General Schmundt himself had advised Walter Frentz, “If
you know what’s good for you, you’ll destroy those negatives.” It was
contraband knowledge, and it was not allowed into the Sperrkreis,
the innermost, cordoned-off, zone of the Führer’s headquarters.

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The Box on the Back Seat
As his paranoia grew in the middle of the war, Hitler directed
one adjutant, the lanky six-foot-two (188cm) SS officer Richard
Schulze to attend every audience he gave, even the tête-à-têtes with
Himmler. So what did he, Schulze, know?
I already knew the answer and I invited him over to London
for the David Frost programme on June 9, 1977, when my Hitler
biography finally came out, and sat him in the second or third row
of the audience, next to Pilar; when Frost, in a well-staged fit of
adenoidal desperation shrilled at me the question – did Hitler know
or not – I held up a hand, and asked for a microphone to be reached
over to Schulze.
Like a barrister examining a witness, I invited him to identify
himself.
“I was Hitler’s personal SS adjutant from 1942 to 1944.”
“– In other words, throughout the Holocaust period?”
“Yes. He ordered me to be present as a witness at every meet-
ing.”
“Please tell Mr Frost and our television audience at home what
discussion, if any, there was in your presence about Jews and the
Final Solution.”
“Mr Irving, there was never even one word spoken on the sub-
ject.”
This is not verbatim, but an accurate rendering of our exchange
– it was necessarily brief, because Frost had had no advance warning
of Schulze’s presence, and I could see wild off-camera semaphoring
going on to get this ambush over. As newspapers reported, it had a
huge impact on the viewers.
As I drove round Germany and Austria I did not neglect the wid-
ows. Some knew nothing, but others – pleased with my visit – often
vanished upstairs and came back clutching dusty suitcases stuffed
with notebooks and papers from some attic room.
I left no stone unturned. The widow of Heydrich’s successor,
the last chief of the R.S.H.A, SS Obergruppenführer Dr Ernst Kalten-
brunner, was subsisting in genteel poverty in a dark little apartment
in Linz; she looked gaunt and hollow-eyed and there was nothing