When Miller wrote these words in April 1945, over two years had passed since she had received accreditation as a war correspondent for American and British Vogue, a position that secured her as the only woman combat photographer to follow the Allied advance across western Europe in World War II. Though Miller never photographed Hitler himself, her intimacy with the living figure was made strikingly apparent to the Vogue readership by the famous image of her bathing in his tub flanked by a kitsch Venus figure and a photograph of the Führer taken by Heinrich Hoffmann, his court photographer and exclusive holder of the right to photograph him (Figure 6). Here, as in so many of Miller’s wartime photographs, Hitler’s image figures prominently. Photographic appropriations of Hitler painted, photographed, and transformed into effigy are abundant in her wartime oeuvre. Inset into Eva Braun’s domestic tableau, held by French soldiers above a makeshift fire, or strategically placed next to a suicided Burgomeister, Hitler’s photograph becomes what Garrett Stewart has variously named an “embedded auto-icon, the abyssal duplication, the internal recursion.” For Miller, the Hitler photograph acknowledges the photographic reproduction that frames them at the same time that it signals her own history as a figure thrust into the space of representation. Both Miller and the Nazi leader, these auto-icons suggest, produced themselves as ideals by meticulously deploying photographic representation and playing on a seductive appeal for libidinal investment by those who gazed upon them.