With the party name changed, the next task was pulling in members.
After a few speeches in the old warehouse, word spread and the crowd grew—from barely ten to maybe twenty.
But word of mouth alone had limits.
So I decided to try something else. I rounded up every member and marched us straight into the streets.
And what we did there was...
"Sir, please read this!"
"Kids, take these home and show your parents."
We handed out flyers.
Never in my past life had I done a flyer gig, and here I was stuffing leaflets into strangers’ hands.
It might look pathetic, but in a world with no internet, no TV, flyers were the standard weapon of publicity.
We shoved them at everyone—men, women, young, old. And sure enough, at the next meeting we had a real crowd.
About eighty, give or take.
Once they gathered, I took the stage. Sure, they’d come because of my flyers, but they weren’t paying me much attention yet. They were chatting with neighbors, focused on their beer mugs.
Before opening my mouth, I scanned the room.
Ex-soldiers still in uniform, grease-stained factory workers, old women, kids ditching school, even vagrants.
All sorts.
I locked eyes on them one by one, put force in my gaze, and began.
"First, I thank all of you for making time to be here. My name is Adolf Hitler. I once fought on the front for the German Empire, and today I stand as a member of the National Socialist German Workers’ Party."
Still, plenty of them weren’t listening. I didn’t panic.
The real game hadn’t started.
"Can you hear me, everyone?"
I suddenly cranked my volume, and heads snapped toward me.
"What is our greatest problem? Indifference!
Even when the nation faced ruin, we blinded ourselves, focused only on our tiny lives, and chose to shut out our duty to country and society. With no concern from anyone, how could anything go right?
And here is the result. Today! Today itself is the child of our indifference!"
The speech landed.
At the next rally, two days later, 120 people showed up. The warehouse was jam-packed, standing room only.
But no one complained. They waited in silence for me to start.
Hundreds of eyes on me. My heart hammered like never before—even worse than the battlefield.
But I knew: if I flinched now, it was over.
I breathed deep, recalled the lines I’d drilled into myself, and fired them off like bullets.
"As you know, our Fatherland is in crisis.
Millions of young men gave their only lives for the nation’s safety and our people’s future.
And yet we repay them with nothing. We failed to honor their sacrifice.
Defeat stripped us of colonies and land. The economy collapsed. Countless wander homeless, jobless.
Worse still, the world mocks us as castrated pigs. And the most humiliating part is that our own people accept it—shrugging, as if it were natural.
What do you think caused this disaster?"
"Communists!"
"Lenin and his lot!"
Someone shouted from the crowd.
"It’s the Jews!"
If this had been the real Hitler, he’d have leapt on that line.
But I wasn’t him.
I might be in his body, but I was still me. I didn’t share his rabid hatred of Jews. I wasn’t about to scapegoat them.
"Some say the communists. Others, the Jews. But that’s not my answer."
"Then what the hell is?"
"My answer is..."
I paused deliberately. A pause is power.
"...ourselves."
"What?"
"What the fuck’s he saying?"
"Get off the stage if you’re going to spout shit!"
The crowd bristled. A few hotheads yelled for me to shut up.
Even my comrades below the podium looked rattled. What the hell was I thinking?
Relax. I had a plan.
"Why deny my answer? Curious, isn’t it? The enemy is within us. Our own weakness, our own indifference!"
I kept my tone steady, eyes firm. The shouters fell silent.
"Our weakness—the belief that nothing can be done, that it’s over—dragged us into defeat. Our indifference—‘why bother with politics, what difference do I make’—let the communists sink their claws into this nation.
Even now they spread like cholera, rotting Germany from inside. Their aim is one: civil war here, just as Lenin did in Russia!
Do you truly want that future?"
"No!"
"Of course not! None of you, unless you’re communists yourselves, want that nightmare. So why sit idle while they destroy our future?
Now is the time to rise together. Individually we may be weak, but united, we are stronger than anything. The rulers are not the owners of this land—you, the people, are!
Let us show those who mock us and would destroy us that the German people united are powerful, unbreakable, and destined to rise again!"
The hall erupted. Applause, cheers—an explosion like a volcano.
***
Word of me spread fast. Crowds swelled. People signed up as members by the dozens. Donations flowed.
No more shabby warehouses. We rented big halls, fancy restaurants.
A 180-degree turn from scraping by on members’ pocket change.
"I can recognize real talent," Drexler said with a grin, cutting into steak.
For a man who’d lived on boiled potatoes and turnips, this meal was a dream.
"It’s thanks to you, Hitler. Thanks to you I’m tasting luxuries I never imagined."
I smiled and nodded.
"Appreciate it. But we’re nowhere near done. You’re not satisfied with this, are you?"
"Of course not. Man’s greed never ends."
I skewered a slice of steak, dipped it in gravy, added mashed potatoes. The beef juice and soft potato melted together on my tongue.
Goddamn perfect.
I washed it down with wine. Drexler leaned closer, lowering his voice.
"Let me ask you one thing."
"Shoot."
"How far do you mean to go?"
"How far?" I smirked. "All the way."
A waiter brought plum pudding topped with honeyed apple and pear. Once he left, I leaned in and whispered so only Drexler could hear.
"The whole damn world."
***
While the treasurer types wrestled over how to handle the flood of donations, I planned speeches and Drexler scouted venues.
We plastered posters everywhere, and the crowds came swarming.
"Welcome, friends. Adolf Hitler here. Some of you know me already. Some of you heard rumors and came to see me for the first time today.
Each time I face you I feel both joy and embarrassment. At first, I could look every one of you in the eye. Now there are so many I don’t know where to look!"
Laughter rippled through the hall.
Open light, then heavy blows—that’s the rhythm.
"Communism does not fit Germany. Have you ever seen oil mix with water?
Communism glitters on the surface, but inside it’s nothing but violence and ruin.
Look no further than Russia! Lenin and his men claim they freed the people, but in the name of justice they slaughtered millions—just for thinking differently!
How can such barbarism belong in a great civilized nation like Germany?
Germany is a great nation. The heart of Europe. Destined to lead the world. Yes, we lost a war, yes, we are in turmoil, but this is only growing pain.
With you—if you stand with me—these hardships will fade into memory, dismissed as nothing more than a rough patch we outgrew!"
"Hitler! Hitler! Hitler!"
***
The ragtag nobody’s club was now a rising force in Bavaria.
And with fame came recruits. Serious ones.
"Ernst Röhm. A pleasure."
"Welcome, Röhm. Adolf Hitler."
Röhm, a Reichswehr captain, soon to be the head of the SA.
Next came:
"I’m Rudolf Hess. I heard your speech and came to meet you. An honor."
"The honor’s mine, Hess."
Hess, who would later transcribe Mein Kampf. In history, he’d fade, overshadowed by his own secretary, Bormann, and then fly solo to Britain in a Bf 110 like some bargain-bin prophet.
In another loop, Hess had died shielding me from bullets during the coup. That’s why seeing him again now—this Hess, who didn’t yet know me—actually felt good.
Then came:
"I’m Gregor Strasser. This is my brother Otto."
"Brothers, eh? Guess I’m quite popular."
The Strasser brothers—Gregor, who would be purged despite loyalty, and Otto, who fled abroad to fight against the Nazis.
Would this loop repeat their fates? Or would my choices give them different lives? That was up to me.
Finally:
"I am Ernst Hanfstaengl, Herr Hitler."
The man looked like a mafia boss but was a Harvard-educated blue blood, a patron who later fell out with Hitler and fled to America. His ex-wife and son, though, stayed in Germany as die-hard fans.
Rich, connected, plugged into Bavarian elites—Hanfstaengl dragged me through parties, networking me into high society.
And among those connections was...
"Adolf Hitler."
"Hermann Göring. I’ve heard much about you. A pleasure."
The eternal wild card of Nazi Germany—Hermann Göring.
And with that, the core team was complete.