Left without his father, William and his mother struggled back in England. Any job opportunities he could find seemed to vanish into thin air the moment people found out his last name. But there was one place where being a Hitler was your ticket to success: Nazi Germany. So William said goodbye to his mother, left his conscience in his old bedroom, and went over to Uncle Adolf's lair to mooch. Not wanting him to crash on the Eagle's Nest couch, his bestest best uncle eventually got him a gig at the German national bank. That was only his day job, though. By the 1930s, Willy Hitler had found his true calling: professional name-dropper.
Better than joining the family business.
On the strength of his last name alone, Willy gained access to all the parties, women, and cocktail shrimp Berlin had to offer. It was wild. Gaggles of Hitler groupies lined up for the chance to get their Aryan mitts on Willy's little willy. On the family side, however, things weren't going too great. Dissatisfied with his crappy job at the bank, Willy asked Uncle Adolf to help him get a better grip on those evil coattails of his. It was around this time that the fuhrer starting referring to Willy as "my loathsome nephew" and accusing him of trying to "climb on my back."