I must have ridden for hundreds of miles across southern Germany, garnering information and spreading propaganda wherever I could. In my role as Martha Ulrich, I became accomplished in the art of subterfuge. It felt so normal to me by then—lying to everyone I met about who I was and where I’d come from—I didn’t feel at all guilty, not one little bit. It was as if I had two different personalities, and when I slipped into that of Martha Ulrich, I was so convincing, I almost believed my own stories.
