The story of the Polish ‘poisoned chocolates’ is an interesting example of how, in an atmosphere of rampant terror, even the craziest allegations can gain wide credence and reappear in countless different contexts. After the invasion of Holland, orders went out for all ‘unexplained’ chocolates to be instantly destroyed; in France, Alexander Werth’s diary for 21 May reveals this entry:‘Another woman says they dropped poisoned sweets at the Gare d’Austerlitz the other day, and that one child died after eating one.’7. This assumption was perpetuated by no less a person than Paul Reynaud, who, in his ‘the Fatherland is in danger’ speech of 21 May, erroneously declared that ‘Through unbelievable faults, which will be punished, bridges over the Meuse were not destroyed.’ (According to General Doumenc, all the Meuse bridges were blown.)8. Walter Schellenberg, the famous S.S.
