It's Sunday, September 3rd 1939, outside the office of the Foreign Ministry in Berlin.

It's just before 9am and Paul Schmidt, a translator for the German Foreign Ministry, sits

impatiently in the back of a taxi. He's late for a very important meeting. Only days ago,

Hitler's army invaded Poland. The British demanded Germany withdraw, but Hitler pressed on,

and last night the British embassy called the meeting. Schmidt was ordered by his

superiors to receive the British ambassador at 9am sharp, overworked and under immense pressure,

Schmidt overslept, and a lack of punctuality is not tolerated in Nazi Germany.

As Schmidt's taxi tears through Wilhelmplatz Square, he sees the British ambassador enter the building.

Stop, stop the car.

Determined to be on time, Schmidt leaps out of the taxi.

He enters the building through a side door before sneaking into the meeting room through a back

entrance. Inside the office, he barely has time to gather his breath,

before the clock strikes nine and the main office door opens.

Ambassador Henderson, welcome friend.

British ambassador Sir Neville Henderson knows Schmidt well. The two men have a cordial

professional friendship, but today Henderson is all business. Would you like to sit, Mr. Henderson?

No. Henderson stands solemnly in the center of the room. I regret that on the instructions

of my government, I have to hand you an ultimatum. Henderson produces a document and reads it aloud.

More than 24 hours have elapsed since an immediate reply was requested to the warning of September

1st, and since then the attacks on Poland have intensified. If his majesty's government has not

received satisfactory assurances of the cessation of all aggressive action against Poland,

and the withdrawal of German troops from that country by 11 o'clock British summer time,

...