It's September the 27th, 1940, were in Berlin.

The streets are packed, lined with flag-waving schooltuber.

An open-topped Mercedes cruises past the Brannenburg Gate.

It contains a delegation from Italy.

They're two hours late, and they already had a telling off from Joseph Gerbos.

Three years ago, Mussolini and Mussolini alone was the toast of Berlin.

But today the Italians must compete for Nazi Germany's affections.

But there are new guests of honour.

When they come from the far east, the land of the rising sun, Japan.

The German Italian packed of steel is about to be upgraded to a Berlin, Rome, Tokyo,

and the Axis.

In the marbled great hall of the Reich Chancellery is a long-gilded table.

Leather-bound papers are stacked for the elaborate signing ceremony.

There is props as much as anything legal.

The dignitaries enter, fountain pens are wielded, flash bulbs pop.

The ink is blotted deliberately and slowly for the camera.

Afterwards the huge oak doors are thrown open.

An attendant enters bearing a big silver stick.

He bangs it on the floor three times.

A signal for all to rise, all to hush.

And then, in a simple grey uniform, enters one adult Hitler.

He milks the moment, bestowing the odd nod upon his foaning devotees.

...