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Hitler's Table Talk

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3io HITLER'S INTEREST IN MOTORING<br />

Secondly, Müller opened my eyes to an infinite number of<br />

small details that escape most drivers. Every pedestrian who is<br />

installed behind a wheel at once loses his sense of the consideration<br />

to which he is convinced he is entitled whilst he is a<br />

pedestrian. Now, Müller never stopped thinking of the people<br />

on the road. He drove very carefully through built-up areas.<br />

He believed that anyone who runs over a child should be put in<br />

prison at once. He didn't skirt the edge of the road, as many<br />

people do, but instead he stuck rather to the top of the camber,<br />

always mindful of the child who might unexpectedly emerge.<br />

When he wanted to pass a car, he first of all made sure that the<br />

driver of the car in front of him had taken cognisance of his<br />

intention. He took his curves cleverly, without making his<br />

rear wheels skid, and without sudden spurts of acceleration—<br />

all gently and flexibly. I realised that driving was something<br />

quite different from what I'd hitherto supposed, and I was a<br />

little ashamed at the comparisons that forced themselves into<br />

my mind.<br />

During that journey I took two decisions: I'd buy a Benz,<br />

and I'd teach my drivers to drive.<br />

I went to the Benz works, and thus made Werlin's acquaintance.<br />

I told him I wanted to buy a sixteen-h.p. "You'll decide<br />

for yourself in the end," he said. "I'd advise you to try a<br />

ten-h.p., to begin with, to get your hand in: it does only eighty<br />

kilometres an hour, but it's better to arrive at your destination<br />

at eighty than to smash yourself up at a hundred and ten."<br />

These were so many dagger-thrusts at my pride.<br />

Theoretical and practical knowledge are one thing and<br />

presence of mind at the moment of danger is something else.<br />

Schreck had them both to the same degree. He was as strong<br />

as a buffalo, and cold-bloodedly fearless. He used his car as a<br />

weapon for charging at Communists.<br />

Kempka has been my driver for nearly ten years, and I have<br />

nothing but praise for him. Moreover, he impeccably manages<br />

the collection of cars for which he's responsible. When I ask<br />

him, in September, if he has his stock of oil for the winter and<br />

his snow-chains, I know he's ready equipped. If I need to know<br />

the time, I can rely on the clock on the instrument-panel. All

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