BERLIN -- The fall of the Berlin Wall has more fully exposed an ugly wart on the landscape -- the remains of the bunker where Adolf Hitler made his last stand.

It is a grassy mound, which, until last November, was in the no-man's land between the two walls that make up the Berlin Wall. For years, no one but border guards and attack dogs were allowed near it. Now it sits exposed, and Berlin officials are exercised about what to do with it. Is it a historical landmark for tourists to gawk at, or is it an embarrassing reminder of an era that the Germans would just as soon forget?

So far, both Germanys have done a good job covering up the traces of the Third Reich. Berlin officials who asked not to be named told us that the physical evidence of the Holocaust has been the subject of intense secret debates. The disposition of historical landmarks is politically sensitive now more than ever because of the reunification of Germany. Many Europeans and Jews everywhere fear a resurgence of the nationalism, the arrogance and the antisemitism that once prompted a united Germany to do the unthinkable.

If Berlin officials had their druthers, they told us, they would demolish any reminder of that era. But they fear being accused of trying to rewrite the past or forget it.

''That is why,'' one key aide to West Berlin Mayor Walter Mompers told us, ''it's better that a unified Germany is integrated within the international community of Europe in 1992.'' He suggested, confidentially, that unless Germany is made to assume a pan-European role, it might begin to flex its muscle in some ugly way in years to come.

The aide personally agreed with the philosophy that those who remember history are not doomed to repeat it. But, he added, it is ticklish to speak of reminders in Berlin now, especially when Berlin is competing with Bonn to be the capital of the unified Germany, and Berlin doesn't want to be saddled with all the ''bad history.''

Other Germans we met, particularly young people, said they would like to see more memorials to those who suffered at the hands of the Nazis. They don't want to revel in guilt, but they do want to prevent a repeat.

One of the few memorials to the Nazi era is the remains of an old synagogue near Charlottenburg that was firebombed during Hitler's Kristallnacht rampage in 1938. It is being restored as a museum.

Another memorial is the Wannsee Villa, where the chief of the Gestapo and 14 other German officials met on Jan. 20, 1942, and planned the ''final solution'' -- the extermination of European Jews. Two months ago, Jewish leaders gathered at the villa to remember the event. The meeting received scant attention in the German press, which considers such stories to be ''downers,'' as one German journalist put it.

Berlin has two places that pass for memorials to the victims of the Nazis. The first is the Plotzensee Memorial, dedicated to all victims of Hitler. But it specifically emphasizes not 6 million Jews but 2,500 members of the German resistance who opposed Hitler and were executed.

The other memorial is a haphazard affair at the corner of Prince Albrecht and Wilhelm streets near the old Berlin Wall. It was once the site of the Gestapo and SS headquarters. It was dynamited into two large mounds of rubble in 1949. After years of argument, it is now a small museum called ''The Topography of Terror'' made out of the underground cells that were not destroyed.

Most other physical reminders of the Holocaust were destroyed by Allied bombs or by occupying governments that preferred to bury the past. In 1987, the British razed the old Spandau prison, which had held the seven Nazi criminals convicted, but not executed, at Nuremburg. After 1966, Spandau had only one prisoner -- Rudolf Hess. When he died in 1987, the British destroyed the prison overnight. We visited the site and found a supermarket in its place.

Those who argue for more memorials are profoundly aware of the tide of antisemitism in West Germany. One of the unhealthy byproducts of reunification has been growth in neo-Nazi groups. ''We have the impression during the past few months that these groups actually have increased in numbers,'' one official said in a briefing provided us by a half-dozen top counterintelligence officials in West Berlin.

The right-wing extremist groups are recruiting with some success in East Berlin too. They appeal to those whose antisemitism was encouraged by the Soviets or who are worried about their own stake in a new Germany.