The Briefcase Bomb That Could Have Ended World War II

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It was 12.35 p.m.

on July 20th, 1944, and Klaus von Stauffenberg was running late.

The 36-year-old Nazi colonel hurried to keep up up with his fellow officers as they escorted him to heavily guarded barracks deep in the woods of Poland.

The complex, known as the Wolfslayer, was the Nazis' military headquarters on the Eastern Front.

Sweating from the scorching heat, Stolfenberg pulled a handkerchief from his pocket to mop his brow.

He was about to meet with the top leaders of the Nazi party, and he didn't want them to think he was nervous.

Stolfenberg walked into the meeting, edging his way around the giant rectangular oak table.

Every Every head turned to watch him in silence.

He looked up to meet the gaze of the most important person in the room.

It was the man Stauffenberg had vowed he would kill that day, the leader of the Third Reich,

Adolf Hitler.

Stauffenberg had joined the German army in 1926 at just 19 years old.

Over the years, he advanced to the rank of colonel.

Though he was initially supportive of Hitler's military strategy and nationalist pride, he began to disassociate from the Nazi Party.

He was sickened by Hitler's plan to exterminate the Jews, and by late 1942, nine years into the Nazi regime, he fully resented what was happening to Germany under the Führer.

As the war dragged on, he came to the conclusion that there was only one way to stop Hitler.

Inside the barracks, an officer announced that Stauffenberg would give updates on the Reserve Army.

Hitler gave a curt nod, then shook Stauffenberg's hand.

The young colonel met Hitler's eye and tried to keep his nerves in in check.

Stauffenberg took his seat at the table, with only two men between him and the Fuhrer.

As the meeting resumed, Stauffenberg quickly looked around to see if anyone was watching him.

They weren't.

He bent down and carefully placed his briefcase on the floor under the table.

The last thing he wanted to do was accidentally rattle it, because inside the briefcase was a two-pound bomb.

and the fuse had already been activated.

Stauffenberg pushed the briefcase with his foot, foot, nudging it closer to Hitler.

He knew he had 30 minutes from the time the fuse was activated until the explosion, and time was running out.

He had to figure out a way to get out of the room before this assassination plot became a suicide mission.

As an officer droned on about the dire situation on the Eastern Front, Stauffenberg could feel his heart pounding.

Every second he stayed in this room, he inched closer to certain death.

Just then, another officer called for Stauffenberg to give his report.

He felt his stomach drop.

There was no way he could finish the report before the bomb tore the room to shreds, but it would look too suspicious to refuse.

If Hitler wanted him to address the group now, he didn't have any choice in the matter.

Beads of sweat formed on Stauffenberg's upper lip.

Then, Hitler waved the officer off.

They'd get to Stauffenberg's report later.

Stauffenberg felt a wave of relief.

Then he seized his chance and whispered to a nearby officer that he needed to make a call.

He slipped out of the room.

Once he was out of sight, Stauffenberg bolted outside and jumped into a waiting car.

The driver started the engine, but Stauffenberg told him to wait just a minute.

He turned to look back at the barracks.

A deafening explosion tore through the building, shattering the windows.

Black smoke and dust rose into the air.

Stauffenberg ordered the driver to hit the gas.

As his car sped away from the blast, Stauffenberg took one last look at the wreckage to confirm what he knew to be true.

Adolf Hitler, leader of the Third Reich, was officially dead.

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From Balant Studios in Wondery, I'm Luke Lamana, and this is Redacted Declassified Mysteries, where each week we shine a light on the shadowy corners of espionage, covert operations, and misinformation to reveal the dark secrets our governments try to hide.

This week's episode is called The Briefcase Bomb That Could Have Ended World War II.

Adolf Hitler is history's public enemy number one, the most despicable villain of the modern era.

After being appointed Chancellor of Germany in 1933, he dismantled German democracy and rose to ultimate power as a fascist dictator before plunging the world into the bloodiest conflict in human history.

World War II resulted in the deaths of at least 35 million people, including 6 million Jews, as well as hundreds of thousands of Romani, disabled people, queer people, and other minority groups.

Hitler enjoyed almost fanatical devotion from the Nazi Party during the first years of his regime.

But by 1942, it was becoming clear to many in Hitler's inner circle that his lust for power had thrust the country into a war they couldn't win.

The future of Germany looked grim.

Those on the inside had to do something to save their country from complete destruction.

But doing this meant more than just killing Adolf Hitler.

There would need to be a vast network of determined, like-minded co-conspirators ready to take over.

They would have to eliminate the men surrounding Hitler and come up with a plan to rebuild Germany in the aftermath, while there was still a Germany left to save.

Almost a year and a half before the briefcase bomb exploded at the Wolfslayer, another high-ranking Nazi officer took his shot at killing the Führer.

On March 13th, 1943, Colonel Henning von Tresco stood waiting in a hangar as a plane carrying Adolf Hitler made its approach to Smolensk airport.

Tresco was at the end of his rope.

He'd been unable to forgive the Nazis' ongoing violence over the last nine years.

He considered the Fuhrer a monster, hell-bent on grabbing power, with no regard for the consequences.

Tresco wasn't alone.

Dozens of his fellow officers felt the same way.

They all knew that there was only one way to wrest Germany back from the claws of this demon, and that was to remove him completely.

As Tresco waited, he rehearsed the plan in his head one more time.

He would accompany Hitler's entourage to the local Nazi command center where they would have lunch.

While there, he and an associate would retrieve a very special package.

On the outside, the box appeared to contain two bottles of fine French liquor, but inside the box was a bomb.

When Tresco accompanied Hitler back to the airport, he would wait for the right moment to sneak on board.

Then he would plant the bomb on the plane.

Once they were in the air, the bomb would go off and everyone would be killed.

Tresco got ready to greet Hitler, but his eyes widened in dismay when he saw not one, but two identical planes pulling up to the hangar.

Tresco had a problem on his hands.

It appeared Hitler's entourage was too big for just one plane.

Now he had no idea which plane to plant the bomb in.

As Hitler and his entourage gathered around a table at the command center for lunch, Tresco frantically tried to come up with a plan.

But there seemed to be no good options.

He could plant the bomb in the lunchroom itself and set it off while Hitler was eating, but there were too many innocent bystanders, including some of Tresco's friends who might be killed in the blast.

He thought his best course of action was still planting the bomb on one of those planes.

He just had to make sure it was the one Hitler boarded.

That's when he came up with a brilliant idea.

He made a beeline for Colonel Heinz Brandt, one of Hitler's closest aides.

With a sheepish grin, Tresco pulled him aside and explained that he'd lost a bet to his friend, who was a general on Hitler's staff.

As a payment, he owed the general this box of fine French liquor.

He asked if Brandt wouldn't mind delivering the liquor to the general when the plane arrived back in Rostenberg.

Tresco figured that Brandt would be on whatever plane Hitler chose.

For a minute, Brandt didn't say anything, but at last, he nodded.

He said he would make sure the general got it.

After lunch, Hitler, Tresco, and the rest of the group returned to the hangar.

As they said their goodbyes, Tresco shot a glance to his associate, the one who had been storing the bomb.

The man nodded and approached Colonel Brandt.

He thanked Brandt for delivering the liquor for Tresco and pressed a package into his hands.

Minutes later, Tresco held his breath as he watched Hitler board his plane, followed closely by Colonel Brandt.

Tucked under Brandt's arm was the ticking bomb.

The plane took off and disappeared over the horizon.

Tresco held his breath, hoping hoping that his plan would work.

At any moment, the bomb would explode.

Tresco tried to hide a smile as he imagined Germany after Hitler.

He pictured Joseph Gebels, Hitler's propaganda minister, announcing his death over the radio.

He wondered how people would respond.

Perhaps there would be a national period of mourning, or hopefully, a collective wave of relief.

But finally, the nightmare would be over.

Two hours later, Tresco was back at his headquarters in Smolensk, waiting for the news.

The phone finally rang, and Tresco lunged for the receiver.

As he listened to the voice on the other end, his throat tightened.

Hitler had landed safely in Rostenberg.

Tresco slammed the receiver down.

The bomb never went off.

Even worse, he had no idea what had gone wrong.

It could be that the cold temperatures at high altitude deadened the fuse, or maybe the bomb was a dud.

Either way, Tresco now had an even bigger problem on his hands.

If the bomb didn't explode, it meant someone might find it.

They would open the box and discover a bomb instead of French liquor.

They would piece together that there had been a plot to kill the Fuhrer, and that Tresco was part of it.

Tresco grabbed the phone again, this time to call Colonel Brandt.

Suppressing any hint of concern in his voice, he asked Brandt if the liquor had been delivered to the general yet.

Brandt said no, and Tresco exhaled.

He explained that the wrong box had been delivered.

He'd send the correct one over with one of his men right away.

Brandt agreed to hang on to the liquor until he received the new package.

Tresco hung up and sighed in relief.

There was always a chance that Brandt might open the box himself to sneak a sip, but Tresco couldn't worry about that now.

He had a bigger problem.

He had to find another way to kill the Fuhrer.

Just eight days later, Tresco and his co-conspirators found another opportunity to finish what they'd started.

Rudolf Christoph von Gersdorf watched from the wings as the Führer gave a speech in an armory in Berlin.

It was March 21st, 1943, and a collection of weapons and other military trophies captured from the Russian front was on display.

Gersdorf was only half listening to the Führer's speech honoring those lost in battle.

He was too distracted by the the bomb in his jacket pocket.

Gerstorf was one of the organizers of this exhibition.

A few days earlier, he'd received a call from Henning von Tresco, who was still fuming over the failed assassination attempt at the Smolensk airport.

Gerstorf had an idea what Tresco was about to ask of him.

He too was disgusted with the Fuhrer and appalled by his orders in Russia to kill prisoners and civilians.

He knew the only way out of this nightmare war was with Hitler gone.

Gerstorf listened as Tresco told him how he'd heard Hitler would be speaking in Berlin in a few short days.

After he gave his speech, he'd want to tour the weapons collection.

As the architect of the exhibition, Gersdorf would naturally be the one to show him around.

Gersdorf agreed, so Tresco made his request.

He wanted Gersdorf to help them make sure this was the Führer's last speech ever.

Without hesitation, Gersdorf said yes.

He then scouted the building for the ideal spot to plant a bomb.

He knew it had to be hidden as close to Hitler as possible.

As he looked around the hall, he found the perfect place, under the platform where Hitler would give his speech.

But on the day of the event, Gerstdorf quickly realized that the plan wasn't going to work.

As he approached the platform while Hitler spoke, He saw it would be impossible to get through Hitler's guards to plant the bomb under the stage in time.

The fuse would only take 10 minutes to go off.

Gersdorf paused.

He realized there was only one way to get a bomb close enough to Hitler to get the job done, and it involved a bigger personal sacrifice than he'd bargained for.

He would have to get close enough to Hitler himself and allow the bomb to kill both of them.

As Hitler finished his speech, the applause snapped Gerstdorf to attention.

It was finally time to give the Führer his tour.

Gerstdorf figured that a full walkthrough would take about 30 minutes, but they would never make it to the end.

Because 10 minutes into the tour, the bomb would explode and take out Hitler, along with Gersdorf and the rest of Hitler's inner circle.

Gersdorf greeted the Fuhrer with a click of his heels.

As formal introductions were made, Gerstdorf snuck his hand into his jacket pocket and activated the fuse.

Gersdorf began the tour, offering lengthy explanations of the origin and functionality of each weapon on display.

As he spoke, he tried to push aside his fear.

He might have only 10 minutes left to live, but he was going to make them count.

As he led the Fuhrer to one display, he noticed Hitler's gaze start to wander.

Clearly, Hitler had no interest in this exhibition and wanted to finish it as soon as possible.

He set the pace and hurried past the display cases.

Gersdorf rushed after him, a lump formed in his throat.

The tour he'd banked on taking half an hour was about to be cut disastrously short.

Two minutes later, Hitler thanked Gersdorf and walked briskly out of the armory.

Gersdorf kicked himself for not activating the fuse earlier, but he couldn't waste time regretting his actions.

He still had a ticking bomb in his pocket with less than a minute before it went off and killed everyone but Adolf Hitler.

Gersdorf sprinted to the bathroom and flung himself into a stall.

He yanked the bomb from his pocket and with shaking hands, ripped out the fuse.

Gerstorf slumped against the wall and slid to the floor, relieved but defeated.

He had been willing to sacrifice himself to kill Hitler, but the plot had failed.

Gersdorf desperately tried to calm his rising anger.

He had to report back to Tresco that they needed to find yet another way to free Germany from Hitler's reign of terror.

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On April 7th, 1943, Colonel Klaus von Stauffenberg stood atop his Horsch 901 truck in the North African desert.

He was waving German army vehicles through a narrow pass between two hills.

He squinted up at the sky, then back at the lineup of trucks.

Stauffenberg was nervous.

He didn't like being out in the open like this.

They were way too vulnerable to attacks by enemy aircraft.

But that wasn't the only thing that was bothering him.

He kept thinking about the conversation he'd had the previous night with his division commander.

The two men had shared a bottle of strong Tunisian wine and complained about the incompetence of the Nazi regime.

With every sip, they grew bolder and expressing their disgust with Adolf Hitler, how his hunger for power was destroying Germany.

By the end of the night, they agreed.

Hitler had to be dealt with.

Suddenly, Stauffenberg heard the unmistakable roar of low-flying aircraft.

He looked up to see a fleet of American warplanes racing toward them.

He yelled to his men to take cover, but the ambush happened too fast for anyone to react.

The bombers shot through the line of German army vehicles, exploding ammunition trucks and sending shrapnel flying.

As machine gun fire blanketed the pass, Stauffenberg looked up to see one of the planes heading right for him.

A swarm of bullets tore through the lieutenant who had been sitting next to him, and Stauffenberg jumped for cover.

But it was too late.

He'd been hit.

His face, arms, legs, and back felt like they'd been set on fire.

He rolled under what was left of his truck, inhaling quick, sharp breaths to try and stay alive.

But it wasn't long before the pain was too intense.

It enveloped him in a warm, silent darkness.

About four hours later, Stauffenberg opened his right eye, immediately aware of the bandage on his left.

He was laid out on a hard cot in a field hospital.

Every inch of his body screamed in pain.

He raised his left hand to touch the bandage on his eye and saw two fingers were missing.

As for his right hand, it was gone completely.

With what remained of his left hand, he tried to pull the bandage from his eye.

A nurse rushed over to stop him, telling him the bandage needed to stay in place in order for the eye socket to heal properly.

When he heard socket, he realized he no longer had his left eye.

Stauffenberg felt devastated.

His time on the front line was over.

But then he realized something profound.

He should have died in that pass in North Africa.

There must have been a reason his life was spared, and he knew what it was.

He mumbled aloud, We must save Germany.

Six months later, in October 1943, a healing Klaus von Stauffenberg sat behind a desk at the office of the Army High Command in Berlin.

Desk work was safe, but it was also boring, especially for a man of action like Stauffenberg.

He didn't join the Army at 19 with dreams of shuffling papers, but he took comfort in his newfound purpose.

He would save Germany by any means necessary.

And if the best way to do that was working at a desk, then he'd do it.

Stauffenberg looked up to see Colonel Henning von Tresco approaching his office.

They'd met back in August through a fellow officer who was part of the resistance.

Tresco was impressed with Stauffenberg's pure hatred of Hitler.

At this point, many of Tresco's co-conspirators were losing steam, daunted by their multiple failed assassination attempts.

But Stauffenberg was determined, and he was exactly the kind of person their mission needed.

Tresco placed a stack of files on Stauffenberg's desk.

Stauffenberg opened the top folder.

The title read Operation Valkyrie.

It was a Nazi contingency plan that outlined what to do in case the Allied forces tried to bomb Germany.

Tresco told Stauffenberg he wanted him to update this plan.

Tresco said they would use it as a cover and issue new secret orders under its umbrella.

The new plan would be to kill Hitler and seize control of Germany after his death.

Stauffenberg felt a thrill of excitement.

This was the reason he hadn't died back in North Africa.

He immediately started preparations to update Operation Valkyrie.

Under the new orders, all individuals still loyal to Hitler would be immediately arrested.

Then, Stauffenberg, Tresco, and their co-conspirators would be free to create an entirely new government.

The plan wasn't just an assassination, it was a full-blown coup.

On July 20th, 1944, at 12.35 p.m., Colonel Heinz Brandt studied a map laid out on a giant oak table.

He was in the barracks at the Wolf's Lair, along with 23 other Nazi officers.

They stood around the table, discussing the dire situation on the Eastern Front.

It had been more than a year since Brandt carried Colonel Tresco's bomb, disguised as liquor, onto the Fuhrer's plane.

Hitler never knew just how close he'd come to being blown up.

Brandt snuck a look at his boss.

He could tell Hitler wasn't happy hearing such bad news about the Eastern Front.

And Brandt was wondering how the Fuhrer's foul mood would affect the rest of his day.

The door opened and Klaus von Stauffenberg entered the room.

Brandt watched him take a spot at the table and place his briefcase on the floor.

The interruption annoyed Brandt.

Stauffenberg was late.

The officer wasn't in the meeting for two minutes before he slipped out the door again.

Brandt's annoyance now teetered on anger.

At 12.40, the officer leading the presentation pointed out a Ukrainian city on the map where the Germans were in a desperate position.

Brandt leaned in for a closer look, and as he did, he kicked something over under the table.

Brandt checked to see what it was.

He found Stauffenberg's briefcase now lying on its side.

He placed it upright again, but it still felt unsteady.

So he rested it against one of the oak table's legs.

next thing Brandt knew, he was on his back, blinking in confusion.

He heard shouting, but couldn't see anything through the thick haze of smoke and dust that blanketed the room.

He tried to breathe, but choked as he inhaled.

His first thought was that maybe a Russian plane dropped a bomb on them.

As he tried to peer through the smoke, he started to panic.

He couldn't see or hear the Fuhrer anywhere.

Suddenly, a familiar figure stepped out of the haze.

It was Hitler.

His hair was burnt to a crisp, his pants were singed, and he was stumbling.

But he was alive.

Brandt suddenly felt very drowsy.

But before he slipped into unconsciousness, he had one last thought.

Klaus von Stauffenberg had conveniently left the meeting just before the explosion, and he had left his briefcase behind.

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Four hours after the blast at the Wolf Slayer, Klaus von Stauffenberg walked into his office at the Army High Command in Berlin.

His adrenaline was still pumping.

During his flight back to the capital, all he thought about was that image of smoke billowing out of the Wolf's Layer.

Hitler was finally gone, and Operation Valkyrie had begun.

Stauffenberg was so pleased with how well the assassination had gone that he was sure the rest rest of the plan would go off without a hitch.

A communications officer at the Wolfslayer would have radioed Tresco and others at the Army High Command to tell them that Hitler was dead.

And since good news always traveled fast, word of his death would have shot through the German military.

Army regiments had probably already started rounding up SS officers and other Nazi officials.

Stauffenberg wanted to cry.

By this time tomorrow, Germany would be a whole new country, one that he had personally rescued from the clutches of a madman.

As Stauffenberg headed down a long hallway, he heard whispering.

It grew louder the closer he got to his office.

Inside, he found a group of his co-conspirators arguing.

They were frantic, shouting that the Fuhrer might still be alive.

Stauffenberg tried to calm everyone down.

He had seen the explosion with his own eyes.

The building had been destroyed.

There was no way Hitler survived.

Then why, they asked, did an officer at the Wolfslayer say Hitler was still alive?

Stauffenberg's heart skipped a beat.

He shook his head and reassured everyone that Hitler was definitely gone.

He had planted that bomb mere feet away from him.

Stauffenberg insisted these were Nazi lies.

Now was the time to stay strong and proceed with Operation Valkyrie as they'd planned.

Stauffenberg's boss, the Nazi loyalist General Fromm, poked his head out of his office.

He asked to have a word.

Stauffenberg, along with some of the other conspirators, then crammed into Fromm's office.

Fromm demanded to know what the hell was going on.

Stauffenberg stood rigid with his head held high.

He stated flatly that Hitler was dead.

He knew this because he was the one who planted the bomb.

The room fell into a stunned silence.

Suddenly, General Fromm slammed his fists onto his desk.

He shouted that Stauffenberg had committed high treason.

But Stauffenberg didn't flinch.

Fromm composed himself, then informed Stauffenberg that he was under arrest, along with the rest of the traitors who were in on the assassination plot.

A smile slowly spread across Stauffenberg's face.

He'd been waiting for this moment.

He calmly responded that no, he wasn't under arrest.

Fromm was.

The Führer was dead.

The architects of this revolution were now in control.

Stauffenberg stepped out of Fromm's office along with the others, closed the door, and locked it from the outside.

Hours after locking Fromm in his office, Stauffenberg was on the phone barking orders to Nazi officers across Europe.

Outside Germany, in Paris, Vienna, and Prague, Operation Valkyrie was well underway.

The German army was arresting SS officers and high-level Nazis left and right.

Stauffenberg felt electricity course through his veins.

The plan seemed to be unfolding perfectly.

But in Berlin, things weren't going as smoothly.

Some troops arrested SS officials, believing the plotters' assurances that Hitler was dead.

But others hesitated to make arrests, having heard rumors leaking from the Wolfslayer that the Führer was still alive.

Stauffenberg knew he had to remove any doubt about the assassination as quickly as possible.

He couldn't let his co-conspirators keep working themselves into a frenzy about whether the Führer was dead or not.

If they lost their faith in Operation Valkyrie, the coup would fail, regardless of how well it was going in other cities.

So once again, Stauffenberg tried to assure them, and maybe even himself, that Hitler was dead and gone.

He knew that they needed to hear from an eyewitness who could confirm his death, so he lied.

Stauffenberg told them that he had personally seen Hitler's dead body.

But at 6.45 p.m., six hours after the bomb exploded at the Wolfslayer, a radio in the Army High Command Office crackled to life.

The harsh voice of Joseph Gebbles, Gebbles, Hitler's chief propagandist, filled the room.

He said an attempt had been made on the Fuhrer's life that day, but that Hitler had survived the attack.

He was alive and well.

Stauffenberg looked around the room at his fellow plotters.

He could see the fear in their eyes as Gebels' words washed over them.

He finally had to accept that some kind of sick miracle had saved Hitler's life.

Gebels droned on, sealing all of their fates.

He vowed vowed that each and every person involved in the assassination plot would be hunted down.

They would pay the price for what they had done.

Four hours after Joseph Gebbles confirmed the assassination plot had failed, Klaus von Stauffenberg looked out of his office window and saw Nazi officers surrounding the building.

He knew they were there to take prisoners, but he still couldn't believe it was actually happening.

Like so many other attempts to remove Hitler from power, Operation Valkyrie had failed.

The SS still had control of Berlin, and now there was nowhere for Stauffenberg to hide.

But if he was about to go down, it wouldn't be without a fight.

At 10.50 p.m., Nazi officers burst into the building.

They spread through the office, assaulting and arresting the suspected conspirators.

Some tried to run, but Stauffenberg kept calm.

An officer grabbed Stauffenberg.

As he tried to wrestle himself free, he felt a flash of pain, like someone jabbed him in the shoulder with a red-hot poker.

A warm puddle spread down his arm, and he realized he had been shot.

Incapacitated but still conscious, he staggered into the ante-room of General Fromm's office.

Not long after, Fromm appeared with Stauffenberg's co-conspirators in tow.

The general had been freed from his office jail by Nazi loyalists.

He addressed all of them, but looked straight at Stauffenberg.

He announced that this was a court-martial.

Everyone in this room has been found guilty of treason.

The punishment was death.

As blood poured from his wound, Stauffenberg felt so weak that he could barely keep his head up.

But he gathered the last of his strength to stand up straight.

He claimed full responsibility for the assassination attempt and insisted the other men were only following his orders.

Fromm ignored him.

Stauffenberg and his co-conspirators were dragged to the courtyard to face the firing squad.

They were placed together in a line, lit only by the harsh headlights of a truck.

Stauffenberg turned to face the firing squad.

They shouldered their guns and fired at each man in succession.

In his last moment, after he was shot, Stauffenberg was determined to have the final say.

He cried out, loud enough for every officer in that courtyard to hear him.

Long live, sacred Germany.

Following the July 20th assassination attempt, Hitler recovered and managed to do considerable damage in Germany with the short time he had left.

In the first several months of 1945 alone, as the Allies closed in on the Nazis, Hitler's forces caused the deaths of 250,000 people imprisoned in concentration camps and on forced death marches.

On April 30th, 1945, Hitler died by suicide in his underground bunker in Berlin, completely surrounded by Soviet forces.

If he and his inner circle had been killed sooner, perhaps the war would have ended and those many lives would have been spared.

But unfortunately, that's a version of history we will never get to know.

Follow Redacted Declassified Mysteries, hosted by me, Luke Lamana, on the Wondery app or wherever you get your podcasts.

If you're looking to dive into more gripping stories from Balin Studios and Wondery, you can also listen to my other podcast, Wartime Stories, early and ad-free with Wondery Plus.

Start your free trial in the Wondery app, Apple Podcasts, or Spotify today.

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From Balin Studios and Wondery, this is Redacted: Declassified Mysteries, hosted by me, Luke Lamana.

A quick note about our stories.

We do a lot of research, but some details and scenes are dramatized.

We used many different sources for our show, but we especially recommend Countdown to Valkyrie, The July Plot to Assassinate Hitler by Nigel Jones, and articles like A Group of German Leaders Tried to Kill Hitler in 1944, Here's Why They Failed by Albinko Hasek for Time magazine, and The July Plot, When German Elites Tried to Kill Hitler, by Jesse Greenspan for History.com.

This episode was written by Dana Rossi.

Sound designed by Andre Plus.

Our producers are Christopher B.

Dunn and John Reed.

Our associate producers are Ines Renikay and Molly Quinlan Artwick.

Fact-checking by Brian Pignant.

For Balin Studios, our head of production is Zach Levitt.

Script editing by Scott Allen.

Our coordinating producer is Samantha Collins.

Production support by Avery Siegel.

Produced by me, Luke Lamata.

Executive producers are Mr.

Ballin and Nick Witters.

For Wondery, our senior producers are Laura Donna Palavota, Dave Schilling, and Rachel Engelman.

Senior managing producer is Nick Ryan.

Managing producer is Olivia Fonte.

Our executive producers are Aaron O'Flaherty and Marshall Louie.

For Wondery.

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