Ingrid's Veterans Today Articles
Originally published on www.veteranstoday.com
The Munchousen Syndrome
The Forgotten WWII Battle of Halbe 1945
Germany: Still Under Foreign Powers
A View of the World through the Prism of Europe
Nuremberg: The Crime That Will Not Die
Nuremberg: The Crime That Will Not Die - Part II
Speaking Truth to Power: An Introduction
Japan in WWII: A Casualty of Usury?
A Bishop, a Pope, and a Sheeple
Germany's Governments since 1945: Turncoats and Traitors, all!
A Modern Kidnapping on U.S. Soil
Crystal Night 1938 - Third Reich's 9/11
Rudolf Hess: The Fuhrer's Deputy
The German Reich Exists!
Iron Sky: The Movie
A Jewish Defector Warns America: Benjamin Freedman Speaks on Zionism - Part I
A Jewish Defector Warns America: Benjamin Freedman Speaks on Zionism - Part II
A Jewish Defector Warns America: Benjamin Freedman Speaks on Zionism - Part III
Hitler and the Banksters: The Abolition of Interest-Servitude
The Western anti-German Narrative
Terror and Torture: Made in America
Faurisson: The Poor Man's Atom Bomb
Imperium - Then As Now
Chutzpah in Modern Germany
World War II Negative Stereotype has to be Stopped
Historical Revisionism – the Irreversible Contagion
As I have lamented many times, the problem with historical revisionists has always been that they have tried to be so scrupulously "neutral" for fear of being smeared that they have undermined their own effectiveness.
Power goes to him who seeks it - and revisionist never sought power. They merely sought respect for their forensically based arguments. Their efforts were impeccably scholastic, but a vivacious human element was missing.
Holocaustianity, the temporal religion of the world, is not about respect. Itís hard to get respect for constant yammering. It is about power anchored firmly to belief, not proof. Guilt-tripping is one handy tactic that pays off.
Political censorship aims for control. Censors expect unquestioning surrender to dogma. This is not readily admitted, but historical revisionism has been profoundly threatening to those politically entrenched brainwashing experts - a threat unlike most any other threat in that their doctrine must not be perceived as a means of carefully targeted mass manipulation. Once that self-serving aspect stands out in relief, the game for the censorship hucksters is over.
In revisionist ranks, there have been some exceptions to the political detachment rule in that flamboyant personalities rose here and there from the lackluster scholarly dust. In his younger years, Ernst Zundel was one such exception. You will meet him in the clip below that was filmed at the Zundel-Haus almost three decades ago.
I did not know Ernst then - I wish I did. I ache to have been part of those exhilarating days when it all started with just a handful of motley supporters against the mightiest moneyed power in the world. What was unleashed at Zundel-Haus became a spiritual avalanche that is still gathering momentum. Itís awesome to behold!
Another one who used his magnetism was Ernst's dynamic attorney, Doug Christie, whom you shall get to know in due time. A third was Doug Collins, a feisty Canadian reporter who early joined the uneven struggle and thus upset the apple cart with his inimitable style and raw professional guts.
The clip below comes from a documentary I stitched together in 2005 after Ernst had already been kidnapped and deported to the Vaterland, courtesy of what David Irving christened "the non-members of the High Church of Scotland" - for fear of calling them "the Jews". It certainly wasnít the Eskimos or Hottentots who did it!
I am a bit apologetic for that tape because it was my first attempt at using film to spread a vivid message, and I was technically unskilled. Yet I knew what I wanted ñ I wanted a documentary with a strong human interest storyline that summarized what all this persecution and prosecution of Ernst Zundel was really all about.
It was meant to be played in the Court in Mannheim - and in fact portions of it were introduced and even written up in Germanyís paper of record, the widely read Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung. Right on Page Three - almost full page!
It would have cost us tens of thousands of Euros, had we been asked to pay for the space. Proof that a human interest story gets more attention and more mileage, publicity-wise, than all the scholarly arguments by an otherwise brilliant defense inside a court. Emotions in the service of a Cause!
The song at the beginning of this tape fit my mood in those days because I seriously feared for Ernstís life in captivity - if life there was to be at all. In those scary weeks that dragged into months, I really feared the worst.
At the very least I assumed Ernst would never see freedom again - that the very "Germans" whom he had tried to free from their shackles had conspired to put lifelong shackles on him.
To paraphrase a saying from the Bible - easier might it be to pass a camel through a needle's ear than to get a brainwashed German with his thumb in his mouth to let go of his lollypop guilt!
I am planning a series of brief video vignettes to show that there was flesh and blood and pain and tears behind this monumental struggle for Truth in History.
Not only that - there was also often poignancy and out-and-out hilarity because so much of this trial, and subsequent trials, was wacky to the point of being utterly bizarre.
Now that I have "set up the clip", as they say in Hollywood, it gives me great pleasure to introduce Doug Collins, a top notch journalist who started as your average media dupe but soon became a trusted Zundel friend and comrade for Truth in History.
A bit of background on Doug to frame this story properly. Hereís Wikipedia's bio, condensed:
At the start of World War II he joined the British Army. He was captured in the Battle of Dunkirk in 1940, later being awarded the Military Medal for bravery during this campaign.
During his four years as a prisoner of war, he made no fewer than ten escape attempts. I've been told he succeeded with seven we used to refer to Doug as "the one who got away"! He was able to escape from a German POW camp in Silesia and stealthily made his way to Hungary.
After being captured there, he made another daring escape, this time making his way to Romania. There he was imprisoned once again, but when Romania capitulated in 1944, he was freed and returned to Britain, serving in combat with British forces in northwest Europe to the end of the war.
From 1946-1950, Collins worked as a political intelligence officer with the British Control Commissionís de-nazification department in Germany.
Collins immigrated to Canada in 1952 and worked for several decades as a reporter or columnist for several Western Canadian newspapers, including the Calgary Herald, Vancouver Sun and Vancouver Province.
In 1960 eight trade unions sued Collins for libel when he was the Vancouver Sun's labour reporter. The same year, the newspaperís managing editor, Erwin Swangard, fired Collins for doing outside freelance work.
Collins successfully sued for wrongful dismissal. He was reinstated and returned to work after four months. He collected his back pay, walked into the editorís office and quit - and then went to personnel to demand holiday pay.
In 1963, he sued Readerís Digest for libel - and won.
Collins returned to the Sun in the 1970s. He quit for the last time when then-publisher Clark Davey tried to restrict his freelancing.
Collins worked as an interviewer/editorialist for CBC Television in Vancouver from 1958 to 1968. From 1981 to 1985 he was the news director/talk show host for CJOR radio in Vancouver.
Collins was the recipient of two awards for journalism. He received the National Newspaper Award (1953). He received the MacMillan Bloedel Award (1975) for reports on alleged corruption at UBC.
In 1993 he was awarded the 125th Anniversary of the Confederation of Canada Medal, given to approximately 42,000 Canadians "who have made a significant contribution to their fellow citizens, their community, or to Canada."
Between 1983 and 1997, Collins wrote a column for the North Shore News, a small weekly community paper in North Vancouver, B.C.
No mean media maven, that one! Doug Collins was a man of principles and a journalist and anchor of distinction. When he first met Ernst Zundel in 1985, he did not care for him.
Like most in his profession who take their marching orders from what are now called Zionists who serve a non-Western agenda, Doug had absorbed the Canadian media venom, and as a former British soldier and later intelligence officer in a defeated, bombed-out Germany, he had to overcome some built-in biases. It is to his credit that he did.
Here's Doug, going to bat for Truth in Reporting if not for the "Nazi on Carlton Street" yet. Itís one of my favorite moments:
Fairly recently, Ernst filled me in on how Doug shed his prejudice against a so-called "Holocaust Denier" and joined the Ranks of the Damned. Conversion happened on the roof of the notorious Zundel-Haus where Ernst had built himself a private little nook for those few hours of the day when he needed to escape the frenzy of his ever-present friends and foes below.
With two bottles of wine and a sausage between them, those two re-fought World War II, with Dougís nose getting redder and redder. That's where, incidentally, Doug shared with Ernst the true fate of the infamous Heinrich Himmler, the Chief of the F¸hrerís SS. You might want to know. Tread with caution.
You may have read that Himmler bit into a cyanide capsule the Hitler government provided for high echelon officials if worst should come to worst. I did. That is the orthodox story, widely believed.
Now Doug told Ernst that in his capacity as intelligence officer in the employ of vengeful Allies, he was an eye witness to a different scenario. Himmler had been beaten to death, and Doug was shown the body.
I found this story shocking and asked: "Who did it? The Brits?" and Ernst replied, "no - those who worked for them."
See? You have just experienced an important revisionist moment. Truth in History can and will surface in the most unlikely times and places, if only you'll give it a chance.
Anyway, the salutary lesson of this story is that, at the end of a deprogramming session, a renowned newspaperman climbed down from the Zundel-Haus roof top a seriously contemplative man - and subsequently penned many a column where he talked boldly of "Swindlerís List" and other politically incorrect stuff, spreading revisionism every which way for the rest of his life with real gusto.
Here are some authentic Doug Collins gems, as taken from a little paperback, published 1998 ñ ìHere We Go Again!î:
"Swindler's List" will hit the Academy bell because Hollywood is Hollywood and what happened to the Jews during the Second World War is not only the longest lasting but also the most effective propaganda exercise ever - Dr. Goebbels himself couldnít have done it any better. (..) Hardly a day goes by but that press, radio and television donít mention something about the six million. That figure is nonsense but media go on parroting what everyone knows. "I used to do the same."
"[Holocaut propaganda] is so effective that the mere mention of Auschwitz makes even babes feel guilty."
"Your man Doug is in trouble for saying that the ëholocaust's" six million story is nonsense, that the biggest influence in Hollywood is the Jewish influence, and that the whole thing has become a business"
"It brings a blush to my battle-hardened hide, but frankness forces me to confess that in 1997 I became the most discussed columnist in the country, thanks to the Canadian Jewish Congress and other would-be censors. But it still puzzles me that my harmless offerings could create a national furore and, in British Columbia, a media feeding frenzy."
"Such are the joys of political incorrectness. Only a few years ago, when men were men and liberals, homosexuals and feminists did not rule the roost like so many squawking chickens, the columns in question would never have raised an eyebrow."
"For such critics I was the serpent in the Garden of the Politically Correct Eden. Sleepwalkers in the major media nodded their heads like clockwork Barbie dolls as your correspondent was put through the grinder, describing me as an anti-Semite, a racist, a dork, and other terms with people who profess to hate hate."
"Free speech has always had a bad name. It had a bad name when Luther nailed his theses to the door of Wittenberg Cathedral. It had a bad name when John Milton wrote that Truth and Falsehood should grapple freely, and when John Tyndale was burned at the stake for translating the Bible into English. The peasants couldnít be trusted with it. Who knows what ideas they might get? The Spanish Inquisition had no time for free speech either - oh, there was one other chap who got bad headlines for speaking out. I think his name was Jesus."
"Stick with me,"î Doug Collins counseled, "and I will educate thee. Difficult but not impossible."
"It ainít easy, being me. The rage of the politically correct and the journalistically gutless knows no bounds. So they denounce ìhate literatureî while writing it."
Doug was not shy about dropping names either. Here are a few such nuggets:
"About a fellow named Foth who apparently gave Doug a hard time in some publication:
"On reading all this, I cried with joy and went into the attack mode. To suckle fools and chronicle small beer was a waste of time, I wrote, but [these] inanities had to be dealt with. I felt sorry for Foth, I sobbed, but that would not prevent me from kicking him in the gonads. We of the lower classes are like that."
"About Lisa Mrozinski, a lawyer representing the government side [who] stated that the need for proof makes it difficult to get anywhere with such complaints in the courts."
"About Roger McConchie, legal counsel for the B.C. Press Council, who put it perfectly when he said that the purpose of the [Hate Laws] was to ëstifle speech that is not criminal."
"Wasn't it Elie Wiesel, a major holocaust propagandistî asked Doug, who said the world should never stop hating the Germans?"
And here comes my all-time favorite punch line where Doug speaks of "Sol Littman, a propagandist from the Simon Wiesenthal Institute who dines out on the holocaust."
In our self-chosen revisionist battles where verbal sorties fly every which way, it doesnít get any better than that!
Toward the end of his life, Doug was sued twice by Jewish spokesmen for his irreverence - and, true to his colors, he kept swinging like the true champion he was, lambasting them for suing him, under the terms of the B.C. Human Rights Act, which should be renamed the Kill Collins Act or the Never Call a Spade a Spade Act."
And elsewhere, many times in various venues:
"Under the vicious B.C. Human Rights Code truth is no defense, fair comment is no defense, which it is in libel and slander, and within the framework of the code there is no right to appeal."
That was a lesson that Canada learned, largely thanks to Dougís columns and subsequent defeat. He and his publisher, a fellow named Speck of the North Shore News, ended up ordered by court edict to line the pockets of Canadaís censors to the tune of $200,000 for their politically incorrect ways. Wikipedia, that lying outfit in the service of said censors, claims it was a puny $2,000.
Doug Collins passed away about a dozen years ago, but he is not forgotten. I miss him very much. He and I fought many cyber wars together when the Zundelsite was under global siege and I needed all the help that I could get. I met him only once in person - on the barge to Vancouver Island sometime in 1998. I believe it was on that occasion that he told me: "Ernst Zundel is a man in a nation of wimps."
Just count yourself in, Doug! That makes two of you. Might there be three? Four? Five? Never underestimate the clout and muscle of steadfast dissidents for Truth in History to "Set the Record Straight!" - so we can all relax!
Editing: Jim W. Dean
Ingrid's brand new on-line store can be visited here at Soaring Eagles Studios and Gallery. It offers DVDs in English and German, as well as many books. Zundel Prison Art items will be raffled off later to help support sound scholarship for Truth in History.
UFOs and Antarctic Bases – A Realistic Appraisal
This article was written more than ten years ago - before Ernst Zundel's political kidnapping and subsequent incarcerations in six prisons in three countries on two continents for his politically incorrect ways.
Those who know my husband personally know that he has many interests and talents beyond the one for which he was abducted and for which he is internationally known - the one that cannot now be mentioned on fear of life and limb in Europe!
Iíll let you guess what that is.
Instead, let's talk of esoteric Zundel hobbies.
For one, Ernst kept a vivid interest in World War II technology inside the Third Reich - including "Flying Saucers". When I showed him the pravda.ru write-up which I had pulled from the Net, we both had a good laugh, and Ernst, in a flamboyant mood, dashed off the following while sitting on our deck, enjoying the Tennessee sunshine:
I consider this a garbled account about the Third Reich's best-kept secret weapons research and development - circular flying craft, commonly called UFOs.
The article gives one an insight into the state of the mind of at least a segment of the Russian reading public, when one sees newspaper stories of this type, which mix pure speculation, propaganda tales of World War II and weird, far-fetched occult themes with the serious side of cutting edge technology.
There is also the usual misspelling of names, incomplete titles etc., and one wonders what original sources the authors consulted for this rather incredible tale.
Nonetheless, the goofy essay merits comment.
I believe I can claim at least some familiarity with the UFO topic, having authored and published some small booklets on Nazi UFOs in the late '60s and early '70s - before I was forced by Germany's enemies to tackle [a politically sensitive topic] , which put an end to my youthful fascination and explorations of the esoteric.
This political derailing of my life caused me to become a serious activist and made me dedicate my life to the clearing of my people's and country's reputation by debunking an untrue accusation. Had my enemies left me alone, who knows what flights of fancy might I have indulged in instead?
Seriously, I personally corresponded with and interviewed some of the German UFO researchers in the 1960s still alive then, including Rudolf Lusar, post-war Germanyís most famous author on German secret weapons in World War II.
Nobody ever told me about a secret project code-named "Base 211", although some, who were aircraft engineers - one attached to Hermann Goring's Reichs-Luftfahrtministerium, was personally present when one of those circular crafts, being tethered to a concrete floor of a large aircraft hangar and propulsion-tested in Wiener Neustadt, Austria, broke its moorings and shot through the ceiling, damaging it and the aircraft severely.
I can say with certainty that advanced research, production and flight testing were definitely going on during World War II of these circular flying craft, some which could reach incredible heights very quickly and obtain high speeds in horizontal flight - well in excess of the speed of sound.
Some of the sanest descriptions of German secret weapons can be found in the bestselling books of Lusar, who was an aircraft engineer and whose books went through several printings in the 1950s and 1960s. The German title was ìDeutsche Geheimwaffen des II. Weltkrieges und ihre Weiterentwicklung.î (German Secret Weapons And Their Continuing Development) At least one English translation was published in London at the time.
In a similar vein, the American Air Force's Air Technical Intelligence Chief, a general named Simon, published a hardcover book about Nazi Secret Weapons he and his team had inspected and tested in the 1960s with a small publishing house called WE Inc., based in Connecticut. It is full of astonishing photos and rich in technical details.
When I spoke to the publisher, who had ordered some of the UFO books published by me, he said: "Very interesting, Zundel, but you have only scratched the surface!"
One more very interesting source was a mass-circulation book published in England and America, titled "Intercept But Don't Shoot!" by Renato Vesco, who is alleged to have been Benito Mussolini's Air Technical Intelligence Chief during World War II. Vesco lists an incredible number of sources, among them whole sets of declassified British intelligence and engineering assessments of German research projects, including weird alloys, completely new metals and Rube Goldberg-like contraptions, all tried and tested by the Germans. In the 1970s, it was obtainable from the Queenís Printer in London.
As to German Antarctic explorations - there was at least one publicly known German Antarctic expedition undertaken by the Third Reich in 1938 before the war broke out. The documentation is replete with lots of maps, flying courses, black-and-white photographs and even a color photo section.
The title is "Die deutsche antarktische Expedition 1938", published by the Safari Verlag. The book itself is long out of print - at least since 1945. However, the negatives of the aerial photos taken by the expedition and some newsreel film footage survived World War II and can be seen at Hamburgís famous Hydrographic Institute.
The serious British publisher, W.R.D. McLaughlin, published a book after the war called German Antarctic Raiders, which is about German naval activity in the Antarctic in World War II.
In the 1970s, a film documentary appeared about the German Antarctica expedition on prime time German TV, which included filmed interviews of some of the actual participants of that expedition. This expedition team surveyed and mapped large areas and took soil, water and ice samples. It charted the Antarctic waters and air currents. It left behind hundreds of Swastika flags driven into the Antarctic snow and more hundreds of flags air-dropped to lay proper explorersí rights of possession to that terrain. All of this is documented in the above mentioned book.
This expedition claimed officially for Germany a clearly defined geographic area of the Antarctic Continent and named warm water lakes and mountain ranges they discovered you can read about and find on any map put out by the National Geographic Society, for instance. This claim is presently recorded in the Antarctica Gazetteer No. 14, available from the United States Board on Geographic Names.
There even exists a German Antarctic Foundation which, through its various chapters around the world, keeps alive Germany's rightful claim to the area, known as Neu-Schwabenland ñ and trust me, I had nothing to do with the selection of that name, even though I am a proud, full-blooded Swabian. I was born in 1939!
Thus, Germany is far larger than the chopped-up, politically truncated, demonically maligned little piece of real estate in the very heart of Europe the Allies left behind after their defeat of Hitler. Germany's Antarctic claim, never challenged, is three times the size of pre-World War II Germany. Many of its highest, Alp-like mountains as well as lakes and glaciers are named after those wicked Nazi crew and expedition members. Horrors!
In the 1990s I interviewed an American publisher and author from Florida who publishes a magazine, called Sharkhunters, devoted largely to WWII submarines with lots of famous U-Boat aces as contributors. He told a fascinating story, which I broadcast on my satellite show, The Voice of Freedom. He claims that he had, indeed, come across maps and photographs of German Antarctic bases in World War II in the Chilean and Argentine naval archives, one based in Tierra del Fuego, accommodating approximately 8,000 men.
One Japanese national TV program invited me to Princeton University in the middle 1990s where I was interviewed for hours and where some of my unpublished material was filmed. This television program was then enhanced with computer-generated, brilliantly done Nazi flying saucers, being shielded by icebergs at first, gracefully rising out from Antarctic ocean bases and glaciers.
They are some sight to see ñ what with the Swastika strikingly adorning these incredibly maneuverable, exotic flying craft wobbling out of the choppy, iceberg-strewn ocean, shaking off pieces of ice and trailing cascading water, as they elegantly zoom away at very high speed!
There is immense worldwide interest in this alleged German Antarctic UFO activity, borne out by the fact that large-circulation Japanese newspapers, magazines and TV programs devote a lot of space, money and time to this story.
One even came to interview me in Toronto and ended up hiring one of my own "Zundel-Haus Lieutenants", a volunteer who helped around the office, but who had lived in Argentina many years and spoke several languages. This man had personal knowledge of the people and places involved. That expedition is as well a fascinating one - but too long to recount here. Perhaps another time!
Even in America, the topic is a sizzling one. Right after World War II, Admiral Byrd, the famous American Arctic Explorer, was sent to Antarctica by President Truman in 1947 with a military task force, equipped with the latest military hardware including air craft carriers, submarines, helicopters, even tanks.
What was he looking for - in, of all places, Antarctica? There are all kinds of articles, serious and otherwise, suggesting that he was sent to smoke out Hitlerís last stronghold there. National Geographic Magazine covered that Task Force in over 40 pages of photographs and texts in 1947.
When I was younger than I am today and learned about all these things in the 1970s, I tried to raise public awareness with my little easy-to-read books, which turned quickly into controversial bestsellers, going through numerous printings before I myself pulled the plug on the ìSecret Nazi UFO Projectî by not reprinting and not writing new material on this topic.
My Jewish detractors made me change course, but I want to touch briefly on a widely misreported story of my UFO exploits. It had to do with my last UFO project, a planned Antarctic overflight via a leased, extra-large, fuel tank equipped, long range Boeing 747 from South African Airways.
For political reasons, this airline had to fly non-stop from Europe to South Africa, not being allowed to land and refuel anywhere in Black Africa at the time, courtesy of apartheid. I had a lead on the plane and had tentatively found a crew of Australian and New Zealanders with 747 flying skills and training and also Antarctic overflight experience.
The idea itself was a bit of a publicity lark - we were going to toast each other with champagne over the South Pole and drop a Hitler flag onto some glaciers from the plane to send a greeting to whoever might have been holed up down below. It caused lots of media interest. I had already close to ten media and TV programs lined up whose executives had pledged the $9,999.- fee to send their staff writers and photographers along ñ to see for themselves what was down there!
I was young, rich and adventurous then - and we were all roaring to go. I had lots of fun and did up to three and four talk shows a week on that "Nazi-Antarctic-UFO-Find-the Fuhrer's Bases" story and sold lots of UFO booklets to boot - when tragedy struck! An Air New Zealand passenger plane crashed into Mt. Erebus, killing all passengers and crew members.
The subsequent, painstaking investigation came to no firm conclusions on why the plane crashed. The United Nations, in conjunction with the Big Powers - Russia, America, England etc. - got involved and declared the Antarctic Continent off limits to all civilian overflights.
Coincidence? It put an end to the Zundel UFO Adventure for good.
The last person to raise my "UFO past" and grill me intensely on it was the famous Mike Wallace of ìSixty Minutesî in the 1990s. Wallace seemed to be fascinated and not a little freaked out by the topic. What did he have to fear?
In the summer of 2000, Ingrid Rimland, my new wife, and I visited the famous, much-visited Roswell, New Mexico UFO Museum. Many will recall that a UFO allegedly crashed there in 1947 only two years after World War II - with little "aliens" on board etc. etc.
While there, I bought a nicely produced hardcover book by U.S. Col. Philip J. Corso, (Ret.), who worked deep within the Pentagon hierarchy on a secret UFO Project in the 1950s-60s. On the dust jacket it says this: "With unprecedented detail, Corso divulges how he spearheaded the (U.S.) Army's reverse engineering project that seeded Alien technology at American companies such as IBM, Hughes Aircraft, Bell Labs and Dow Corning."
We toured the museum for several hours and talked with employees and tour guides there, and what do you know? Nicely protected by glass I spotted some diaramas - life-like models reduced to scale: "Nazi Saucers", Swastikas, Balkenkreuze, Luftwaffe insignias and all - being refueled by tankers on the ground with Luftwaffe - and SS-uniformed and armed German soldiers guarding the "Nazi UFO base." I thought I could not trust my eyes!
Allow me this thought as a German who has refused throughout a lifetime to make myself a slave to the Pavlovian Reflex and kick a long-dead Adolf Hitler in the shin:
The Americans captured and shipped thousands of German rocket, aircraft and other weapons specialists to the US immediately after World War II to "seed" exactly the same projects that Col. Corso described as their advanced weapons research.
While in Roswell, Ingrid and I also went to the American rocket pioneer Stoddard's workshop/museum and looked at the tools and scientific gear displayed there - a shockingly primitively equipped place, compared to what Wernher von Braun had had to work with Hitlerís test facilities at Peenem¸nde at the end of World War II.
On that hot summer afternoon I wondered to myself if what had really crashed in Roswell might not have been one of the German Flying Saucers, keeping an eye on what the competition was up to at Mr. Stoddardís lab and test site - and that the ìlittle green menî story was a false road flare, planted by US authorities at the time!
Why so? Would it not have been painfully embarrassing to admit to the American and world public that "here we were, having clubbed the Germans to a pulp in massive bombing raids, monkeying around at Mr. Stoddard's lab and other places with that outdated, old-fashioned, glorified fire cracker rocketry the departing Hitler regime left behind, along with Wernher von Braun - while a still-undefeated bunch of high-tech Nazis are hot-rodding it around the globe and maybe even through the universe, snugly ensconced in their never-captured, Antarctic based UFOs?"
A man can speculate, can't he? After all, this is America, isn't it? And red-blooded Americans don"t fear - or do they? - that they will faint or turn into some frogs if they discover that a real live "Nazi" called Ernst Zundel - according to the ADL, the JDL, the Wiesenthalers and other some such outfits that specialize in smears - turned out to be a human being after all who has just given them a publicly little-known piece of his mind. [End]
Ingrid's comment: Much of the information on Antarctica and German UFOs are in Ernst Zundel's various UFO booklets, some a bit tattered and grimy after the 1995 arson of the renowned, world-famous Zundel-Haus in Toronto, set ablaze by Germany's enemies 50 years to the day after Germany surrendered to the Allies, May 8, 1945.
They still sell, believe it or not! They need to be updated badly!
Visit www.soaringeaglesgallery.com and check them out yourself!
Colonia Dignidad: A Trading Post for Nazi UFOs?
Have you ever heard of Hacienda Dignidad? My Spanish is a bit rusty, but I believe the name translates into "Ranch of Honor" or "Plantation of Pride." Hacienda Dignidad is a mysterious place, deep in the Chilean mountains. Allegedly, it is a trading post for Nazi UFOs.
Ernst Zundle on his release from prison
Remember, I am writing this totally from my faulty memory without any access to any notes I may still have in my files, at least in fragments. This is the rough story by no means complete. The Hacienda Dignidad myth is only a small piece of a puzzle that is much larger, much more mysterious, encompassing people all over the globe for at least 60, maybe even 70 or 75 years.
When I was young, I stumbled upon it because of my interest in space exploration and space journeys to the near planets ñ to the Moon, to Mars, Venus and, beyond, to Orion and Sirius. It did not take long for me to make all kinds of interesting contacts in Canada, America, Germany, Austria, Spain and, especially, South America and, strange as it may seem, Japan of all places.
My first encounter with Japanese interests in space came in 1967 when I met the CEO of what was then a sizeable conglomerate of Japanese corporations worth well over US$250 million, all involved in the most diverse business fields. That man, letís call him the Chairman, was a Japanese Naval AttachÈ in Germany during World War II.
He was ultimately taken to Japan by German submarine in late 1943 with a secret cargo apparently involving jet planes. The Germans were far ahead of the Japanese, even the British and the US in that field, having had operational jets, several different kinds, by different manufacturers and designers since 1938. There is a story of just such a submarine which carried nothing but mercury, which the Japanese apparently needed in war production.
Incidentally, I corresponded with some of the crew of Captain Schefer's sub which landed in Argentina long after Germany's surrender in Europe - there is also the story of a German sub using an uninhabited island in the Falklands/Antarctic/South Atlantic region. That island could still not be visited in the 1970s because it seems the Germans used a mine barrier at the lagoon entrance to prevent the Allied ships from landing there.
Anyway, the Chairman was thrilled to meet me, and I was wined and dined, had a Japanese driver/translator assigned to me, who was dressed formally, including gray gloves at all times. He did a lot of bowing. Wherever he guided me, I was showered with gifts from shops located on the most famous shopping streets in Tokyo.
He took me to large art supply stores near the University of Tokyo and to the National gallery of Japan, where I was introduced as though I were a V.I.P., receiving fine collections in gift boxes of rice paper, seals and sealing wax - a very big deal in Japan! Evidently the Chairman thought that I was someone special because, as he said in his accented German, î Herr Z¸ndel, Sie sind der erste Deutsche, der denkt wie meine Kameraden in Deutschland im Kriege.î [You are the first German who thinks as my comrades did in the war].
The Chairman was the one who told me over a slow meal of many courses that Japan was at war with America. He pointed to an attachÈ case and said, "This time we will defeat them with this (meaning commerce) and not with tanks, ships, or planes."
He said in parting that Japan would never forgive the Americans for dropping the atomic bomb and for making Japan lose face before other Asians, especially the Koreans and Chinese.
That was a big deal with him, as were the humiliations and executions by hanging of Japanese leaders via the Tokyo war crimes trials and tribunals. He was far less forgiving than the Germans!
I donít know if this Chairmanís hand was involved in what followed, but in the middle 70s I was contacted by a man who claimed to be a Japanese reporter/writer. He was very interested in my UFO books, ordered several of them, kept calling me for details and basically pestering me because, by then, I was phasing out this rather frivolous line of books. I would imagine that it must have been in '78 or '79 when this reporter finally made arrangements to come over from Japan to interview me at length.
Money seemed no object with this Japanese reporter, who arrived with a photographer/sound man with state of the art tape recorders in tow. They parked their stretch limousine, chauffeur and all, in a no parking, no stopping zone outside my house. The bored white driver would sit there for hours, pulling away once in a while because Toronto police told him to move on.
Meanwhile, we talked and looked through my UFO/Nazi Secret Weapon/Antarctica file, only interrupted by lunch, tape changes, coffee breaks. Later on, we went out to the CN Tower where I was treated to one of the most expensive dinners in my life.
The two came back the next day, and this time they seemed quite interested in talking to one of my male secretaries, Sepp. We used to horse around a lot, talking of olden times, and I used to call him my "Adjutant", for Sepp had an illustrious past. He had served as an aide de camp and interpreter for Field Marshall Kesselring in Italy during the latter part of the war.
We were young and brazen then. We thought we would supply some visual aids for our Japanese guests, so for the occasion we dressed Sepp up in a spiffy Nazi uniform of an officer of the communications section - visorís officerís cap, the works! The photographer just loved that man and his uniform! I could see why - it would lend authenticity to the story being told for a magazine or television special.
Then my Japanese guests left, loaded with UFO literature. They said they would be in touch, and mentioned that if they could raise the funds, they might be tempted to go and visit some of the places in Europe and Latin America. Especially submarine bases and underground installations left over from World War II really interested them. They were like children with a new toy.
In the months that followed, I helped them gain entry to some circles and installations, such as the former German submarine base and bunkers in Bergen, Norway, which operated undamaged until after surrender in May 11th 1945 - not May 8th! The Norwegians used those facilities, along with the most modern German subs, into the 1970s.
My guests also visited the Hydrographic Institute in Hamburg and looked into the thousands of air photos taken over Antarctica and its German bases, established by the Ritscher Expedition under the protection of Hermann Gˆring, with Rudolf Hess as the liaison for the project.
They went to Camp Dora in the Harz Mountains and to the bunker complexes in the Alpine Redoubt, which figured large in the Allied propaganda in '44 and '45. They sent me many postcards from those places. Unfortunately, the 1985 arson claimed all of those files.
In the wake of those visits, UFO orders for books, spotter charts and investigator passes began to pour in from Japan. We even sold Frisbees resembling UFOs. The first articles appeared, and we did a brisk business for a while with Japan in that period.
Then one day, I received a call from our Japanese writer. He was in the US, in Los Angeles. Could he drop by? He wanted to make me a proposal about a research trip.
Sure, said I. Come on up.
He arrived within a week and suggested that I accompany him to Latin America, together with another Japanese tape recorder man and photographer, using my trusty German aide - minus Nazi uniform, I insisted! - on the trail of the Nazi UFOs. The expedition was to last from 4 to 7 weeks.
Ernst in his earlier publishing days
I was still a hands-on graphic artist at that time. I ran a lucrative graphic arts studio, along with my publishing house, and I had important contracts with some of Canada's largest corporations.
There was no way I could stay away that long without losing my business. So we made a compromise. I would not go, but I would lend him my German AttachÈ.
Of course, Sepp liked the idea of researching Hacienda Dignidad, somehow connected to Nazi UFOs, because he could get a free first class trip out of this deal and see his friends in Chile and Argentina, where he also had family.
He was happy to go along. I was excited for him, even paid him his salary, bonuses, insurance, the works ñ for which the Japanese researchers reimbursed me generously. For me, it was a good deal, because my trusted Adjutant would be in fact my eyes and ears and report back to me. The Japanese had no problems with that. Everybody was satisfied.
Sepp took off for Los Angeles where he would meet the rest of the team. The first stop was a special effects studio in Hollywood, which mightily impressed my World War II staff officer turned volunteer. That educational experience behind them, the team flew off into the wild blue yonder and landed in Santiago, Chile to meet up with my co-author of my first German UFO book, titled ìUnbekanntes Flugobject? Letzte Geheimwaffe des Dritten Reiches. The man's last name was Mattern.
Mr. Mattern was a German who had emigrated to Chile in the 1920s as a professional photographer. In time, he became the official photographer for all the presidents and most of the military big wigs in Chile in the early 1930s and thereafter. He was in and out of the Presidential Palace, the military academies, the Parliament ñ he simply knew everybody!
Chileís military was thoroughly Prussian, having adopted Prussian drills, ethos, code of honor, WWII German uniforms, and helmets ñ even the goose steps! - which, by the way, they have kept to this day. The Chilean army under Pinochet was like an extension of the World War II German Army in looks, behavior and feel as well as in outward appearance. Exclusively German marching bands and German marches were, and are, still played to this day by that time warp Chilean army!
Mr. Mattern was to be in charge of the Chilean part of the trip, especially since he had once personally visited the area upon which the Japanese seemed to be totally fixated ñ the fabled Shangri-la called Hacienda Dignidad in a remote interior mountain range. As the story went, during his one and only visit to Hacienda Dignidad, Mr. Mattern was picked up at the train station or air field ñ I canít recall which ñ by someone and driven to the Hacienda, and when his visit was over, he was driven back to his point of arrival in the South Central part of Chile. I believe the town was called Parral.
Mattern was, by then, already a man well into his 80s, but his correspondence was absolutely lucid. He assured the Japanese team plus Sepp that they would be met at the airport by a representative of Mr. Richter who would then take them to the Hacienda for a reception and interview with Mr. Richter personally. Security and secrecy were given as the reasons for this somewhat out of the ordinary arrangement.
The meeting with Mr. Mattern was cordial at his upper middle class home. The meals were served in the finest china, rare wines, candle light, very civilized. The team was on its way, being briefed by Mr. Mattern what he had observed during his visit many years ago, such as the brand new Mercedes Benz ambulances which were used by German emergency services, Mercedes Diesel mini-buses, sheet metal workshops with the latest German metal bending machines, punch presses, all of them equipped with the most modern tools and machines.
Mattern spoke of extensive vehicle repair facilities, motor reconditioning shops, modern communal kitchens and learning/meeting facilities, a state of the art hospital with a surgery and an outpatient clinic for Indians in the area and a maternity ward where local people, mostly Indios or Mestizos, were treated by the medical staff of the Hacienda Dignidad, completely free of charge.
The nurses, said Mattern, wore typical German nursesí uniforms with Red Cross and Christian insignia on their gowns and habits. There was also a dairy farm, he recalled, as well as sheep, flocks of chickens, geese etc. In fact, it seemed that the Hacienda was based on what in National Socialist Germanyís time would have been called a ìMusterbetriebî ñ an ideal, self-contained community, run like a perfectly integrated prototype enterprise.
Mattern also saw a neat little Christian chapel. He said he was taken for long rides on magnificent horses along well-kept trails, accompanied by Richter, who would stop and talk to Indio laborers, male and female, in Spanish.
Although their outings would often last several hours, said Mattern, they never seemed to come to a fence or the edge of the property. It was rolling hills and dales, fields of potatoes, wheat, rye, and corn. Every once in a while he would hear the sounds in the distance ñ the whine of jet engines or turbines being accelerated, and then the sounds would die down again, and silence would prevail.
Only a few times, he told his guests, did he think that he saw strange aerial activity going on by even stranger craft. He was never told what was it was, and it was clear to him that the host was unwilling or perhaps under orders not to expand on those strange noises and those odd goings-on.
During his stay, there were communal suppers and lectures on different topics by different people, said Mattern. There were German and Austrian folk dance performances and even some by Indian dancers accompanied by rather primitive local instruments. He was not allowed to take any pictures or make any drawings and notes. Camera, note pad, pens were politely taken from him and returned at the end of the visit. Some of these Mattern recollections, by no means all, found their way into the initial German books and my subsequent far more Mickey-Mouse English language books on UFOs, titled UFOs: Nazi Secret Weapons.
This, then, was a little preview of what the Japanese investigative reporter, the sound man photographer, and my own secretary/translator hoped to find at the mysterious Hacienda. Remember, this was long before faxes, satellite phones, much less cell phones, the Internet and e-mail came onto the scene. Letters from and to Chile would normally take 9-12 days one-way, which is still good and fast by todayís standards.
The team left Santiago, the capital, full of anticipation and arrived in Parral, hoping to be met by Mr. Richter or by one of his staff members, as Mr. Mattern said he was assured via his usually well-connected channels.
The team arrived. Parral is a regional, administrative center with military and federal police bases as well as airports and rail center.
No Mr. Richter. No one else either! Now what?
Mr. Mattern, back in Santiago, could not get any explanations from his highly placed sources either, which shocked him visibly. All his inquiries hit dead ends.
My man on the scene spoke five languages. As a German military officer on Field Marshall Kesselringís staff, Sepp had served as a liaison to Benito Mussoliniís government, and as such he had participated in all the high level meetings, including the ones concerning Mussoliniís liberation by German commando leader Otto Skorzeny at the Gran Sasso.
Anyway, Sepp was a resourceful man because of his background and training. He decided to do the logical thing ñ he went to see the postmaster of the town and asked for the address of the Hacienda Dignidad.
There he was met with evasive answers. Security considerations. Obscure laws. Shrugs. Blank stares. I should also mention that Chile was then under martial law since Allende had been overthrown. Martial law can bring out very strange behavior.
When he could not shake loose the address, Sepp went to see the mayor, Japanese crew in tow. At city hall, he was at first cordially received by the staff and was shown into the mayorís spacious office. There, behind the mayorís desk were several large maps of the area ñ one of the town, another of the whole region with oddly colored patches towards areas heading to the foothills of the mountains. While they chatted with the mayor, asking for Mr. Richter and the way to the Hacienda Dignidad, it became quickly clear that security did not permit the city official from giving them the information they sought either.
By now it was past lunch. After a meal, the team decided to rent a car - a Volkswagen Beetle - and do their exploration without Mr. Richter.
Sepp had memorized the map at the mayorís office. At the car rental place they obtained a similar scale map of the region, matched with what he had seen shaded in. A decision was made to head out into the general direction of those colored/shaded areas. Sepp was certain it had to be the Haciendaís location, going by the description of the landscape Mattern had given them in his briefings. Sepp was confident that he could find the Hacienda by asking local people in the foothills.
By now it had begun to rain, and as they were climbing steadily, it was getting colder and darker. Quickly, they left civilization behind. Telegraph poles and electric wires ended. Farmersí fields gave way to bush land, poor soil, and the odd Indio shack made of corrugated metal roofs, old leftover wooden pallets, crates etc. with run-down or broken down cars strewn in the fields. The road got progressively worse, and the asphalted surface had long given way to potholes and gravel, which made for a bouncy ride as they wound their way ever higher into the foothills.
It was a miserable afternoon drive. The Japanese wanted to turn back. Sepp wanted to press on, and since he was the driver and navigator, German stubbornness won out. With his cold and grumbling passengers getting more weary by the minute, things were heading for a crisis, when suddenly the rain stopped just as they came to an area of clearly man-planted, 25-year-old conifer trees on either side of the road. They could see a light flicker in some hut on a hillside in the distance.
They hit upon a paved road, and soon they found themselves on a driveway with a cut lawn on each side. They could see a white stucco gate, Latin American style, with a high wrought iron fence on either side, and then a long, heavy wire security fence, metal links with barbed wire continuing on into a distant, man-planted forest. They were, in fact, in a turn-around, circular driveway area, and there was even an electric bell.
By the street lamp they could see some metallic reflections in some high birch trees inside the fence behind the large gate, which had a smaller gate for pedestrians on the side of it. This road carried on behind the gate into a well-kept landscaped area, dotted by majestic 25-35 year old coniferous, German-type blue spruce, or Norwegian pine trees familiar to people in Central Europe, the Black Forest and the Alpine regions. There was a winding path up to the blinking light shack a few hundred meters up a steep bank.
It began to drizzle again. The Japanese were lightly clad, shivering and uncomfortable, sitting huddled in the car. Sepp had a waterproof ski jacket and offered to investigate the light, while the others waited. He decided to take a shortcut and climb straight up the hill. It was slippery and rough going ñ when, suddenly, a car horn sounded, and as he turned around and looked down, he saw several men in non-descript rain coats surrounding the Volkswagen Beetle.
Hastily, he slid down the hillside to get there faster, getting himself wet and muddy by the rain-covered high vegetation. The men had started questioning the Japanese who did not speak Spanish and were clearly at a loss as to what to do next. One of the strange men, to Seppís surprise, wore a forage cap used by German mountain troops in World War II, the famous Gebirgsj‰ger of Oberst Dietl in Narvik, Murmansk and later the Caucasus when they climbed the highest mountain, Mount Elberus, and planted the Swastika flag on the peak, creating a worldwide sensation at the time.
The German spread-eagle insignia and the Edelweiﬂ had been neatly removed from the cap, but one could still see the outline in the sun-bleached material. This man was muscular, bronzed, blue-eyed and blond. More yet, he spoke heavily accented Spanish with a clear Bavarian twang, familiar to my south Tyrolian born Sepple! Sepp knew he was in the right place. He knew that was no local Indio or Chilean.
Sepp addressed him in German; however, the man refused steadfastly to answer in German. In Spanish, he asked the team what they wanted, denied knowing a Dr. Richter, and requested that they hand him their passports, airline tickets, cameras and tape recorders. He then motioned them inside the gate which opened electrically, although no wires or high poles were visible anywhere. He motioned them to drive down the driveway, while the rest of the ìreception committeeî followed them in their own, four-wheel drive military type vehicle.
After 300-400 meters, they came to a series of typically German type buildings - sturdy masonry with baked-tile roofs, stone and stucco Alpine style architecture. They were told to park their car. Politely, they were assisted with their luggage. They entered a large office/reception type room, tastefully decorated, again Alpine type, and were asked to make themselves comfortable. It was a building with all modern amenities, electric lights, flush toilets, wash basins, typewriters, office desks, office lamps, clothes racks etc. It had the feel of a military officerís quarters.
By now, it was pitch dark outside.
They were given sandwiches, hot herbal tea, some dessert, and then the interrogations began ñ at first, separately in different rooms by different people, some of whom spoke English with the Japanese. With Sepp they insisted on speaking Spanish, an odd situation. They could not be persuaded to speak German ñ even though they were clearly Germans.
No one answered any questions as to where they were, what the place was called. No one claimed to know a Mr. Richter. No one admitted that this was indeed Hacienda Dignidad.
The interrogations lasted several hours, and about 10 p.m. they were all brought together again. They were told that they had penetrated a restricted military area without authorization, and that this was a serious offense ñ that a military police escort was on its way from Parral to pick them up, and that it would be up to the military to decide what to do with them once they got there.
Their passports, cameras, tape recorders, films, and luggage would be turned over to the military. It was suggested that they could get some rest in a room that had some bunk beds and blankets, and they were warned not to try anything foolish. They could use the rest room but not leave the building for any reason.
The Japanese seemed pretty upset by all this and wondered what they had gotten into. Their ardor had considerably cooled by then, and they felt it was wiser not to press their luck und instead beat it back to Parral, get their passports back and get out of the jam they were in!
They were satisfied that out in nowhere, cut off from civilization, there obviously were people living with all the accoutrements of civilization, European no less, who had video surveillance cameras, electricity, flush toilets, heating systems, paved roads, tall metal wire fences, automatic electric door openers as well as a facility where there were multilingual people working in shifts, people connected somehow with the military or at least the federales, the police, who had the power to take peopleís passports.
Everybody was tired, and soon all were asleep, only to be wakened in the early morning hours by truck motors howling, doors being slammed, loud voices in Spanish. They were introduced to the head of their military escort ñ a whole convoy of trucks and jeeps! After a short breakfast, they headed out into more rain and fog, making visibility difficult. Even so, they could make out numerous European type buildings in the distance which looked like part of a community with neatly cut lawns, garden flowers, and all asphalt roads everywhere they looked!
The trip back to Parral was slow and rocky. The team was taken to an army or federal police compound where they were herded into a large room and, once again, separately interrogated. They were told what they already knew ñ that they had entered a restricted military area without authorization, for which they could be jailed for a substantial period, but seeing that they were foreigners, and that their press credentials and stories checked out, they were only going to lose their undeveloped film, same with the tape recordings.
They were told to take their rental car, drive it all the way to Santiago, check at the federalesí posts along the way, have their expulsion orders stamped at each place ñ and be out of the country in 72 hours! Pronto!
The Japanese did as they were told ñ they left Chile in a hurry. All were glad they got off easy. They were given their passports and cameras and tape recorders back and went on to points in Brazil and Argentina for other interviews on the trail of the mysterious Nazi UFOs. And our Sepp told us this story as he remembered it.
A decade later, I was invited to Princeton University for a lengthy series of Nazi UFO-related interviews, which were aired on prime time Japanese TV in a remarkable if sensationalized UFO special with superb computer animations of realistic Nazi UFOs.
Mr. Mattern never did find out what had happened to Mr. Richter ñ or to Hacienda Dignidad for that matter. He died within a year, but as I said, he was well into his eighties by that time. Sepp passed away a few years later.
From other sources, such as El Mercurio, a left-leaning mass circulation Chilean newspaper, as well as from the German weekly, Der Stern, and the German news magazine, Der Spiegel, the following story emerges:
Hacienda Dignidad is a colony totally self-sufficient in everything, technologically equipped with the very latest amenities. The community has its own schools, teachers, hospital, medical staff, and technical people. It is claimed that mysterious testing of some sort is being carried on at the Hacienda for the Chilean military.
Even Chilean senators and parliamentarians find all their efforts blocked, usually by courts, the police, and the military. The German Embassy reports that numerous Germans receive their World War II army, air force, and other pension checks, which are sent to a collective address in the town of Parral, where they are deposited into a joint account.
The El Mercurio newspaper reported already in the late í40s and í50s that one of their reporters, in fact, did penetrate the Hacienda terrain via back roads through the mountains, using pack horses, and that he did observe strange flying craft taking off and landing in some remote area of a valley away from the actual community ñ which is what Mattern reported seeing during his one and only visit in the 1950s or 1960s ñ I donít remember now exactly just when his visit took place.
The latest report about Hacienda Dignidad I read in the late 1990s in Der Spiegel. There was talk that the community was run by an autocratic leader. It was described almost like a semi-religious cult, but that there were married couples with children there.
After his visit to what he certainly believed had been Hacienda Dignidad or a similar enterprise in the remote foothills of the Chilean mountains, Mattern was of the view that this place was a supply base for fresh fruit and vegetables picked up by ìflying saucersî. He also felt that the colony served as a rest/recuperation and medical facility for German-staffed UFO bases further to the South like Tierra del Fuego and even Antarctica proper.
The story of the El Mercurio reporter, except for Mattern the only other human being claimed to have visited Hacienda Dignidad, is in one of my booklets in excerpted form. It was a bestseller in its time and is still widely quoted, as is the hastily organized Admiral Byrd Expedition to the mysterious continent of Antarctica in 1947.
The most extensive photographic documentary is to be found in an exhaustive article in National Geographic magazine, replete with maps and flight paths of the Byrd overflights, leaving out the far more sensational revelations supposedly contained in Byrdís private diary, which was forbidden to be published by U.S. authorities - or so it is alleged. Its content was leaked by Admiral Byrdís son, who himself came to a rather bizarre and mysterious end.
Doug Christie - Rest in Peace
Doug Christie was a veritable star in various Canadian court venues ñ the likes of which the Lobby that plagues us all with all their lies piled up on lies and yet more lies had never yet encountered.
Doug Christie was young, brilliant, fearless, smashingly handsome, determined, exceedingly quick on his feet ñ conventional descriptions will not do him justice. He was in a league by himself.
His adversaries ñ in the courts, and in the streets? Iíll let you be the judge.
Somebody called Doug Christie ìErnst Zundelís Battling Barristerî ñ the moniker fit, and it stuck. Seven times he took the Zundel Case alone to the Supreme Court of Canada ñ I have been told, more often than any other Canadian lawyer with any other case before him or since. He was a class act, both feared and admired by many.
Ernst and Ingrid - Before his secret trial
Two weeks ago, Doug Christie passed on. Ernst Zundel is still being held as a free speech hostage by political hacks who run the country of his birth right down into the ground.
Whole governments world-wide now know that the so-called ìHolocaustî is a political weapon of mass deception in terms of holding huge nations in hock. Long story I wonít repeat here.
I took three days to stitch together from faded movie clips the essence of what ìHolocaust Denialî is really all about ñ and who the actors were, and are, in a drama of near cosmic dimensions.
If you are ignorantly vomiting the media hype right back into the arena about the ìgassingsî of ìsix millionî, please do yourself a favor and educate yourself at least at kindergarten level.
If you already know, as many do ñ as millions all around the globe now know! ñ that ìAuschwitzî was a false flag operation before that term was even coined, I honestly believe you wonít forget the raw emotions in this short documentary that powered both sides of the battle. This morning, I give you Act I.
Doug was an intellectual warrior of true grit as well as warmth you seldom find in the legal profession. He was despised and demonized by many, as was and still is his ill-reputed client. Their battle took decades ñ and isnít yet done. On good days it simply rained media spitballs. On bad days it was wall-to-wall, blood-curdling death threats and worse ñ not just against them, but those who supported the battle of constitutionally guaranteed Freedom of Speech.
Today I give you Doug Christie, in life and in death. You will also meet beautiful Keltie, law researcher and comrade extraordinaire, Dougís partner of 32 years and mother of his children. You will meet a much younger Ernst Zundel, the tireless street action populist ñ by now a world-wide icon of the Movement, prevented from joining his wife.
You will get a glimpse of three or four dozen of Zundel supporters, simple folks like you and I. You will also meet a howling, shrieking mob of Zundel detractors whose behavior speaks for themselves.
In this Shakespearean play, there is your corrupt judge. Your hateful prosecutor who does a hatchet job.
A Defense of Hitler the Veteran?
(Editor’s note: VT was dared to print this. We shy away from nothing, America has already given up too many rights, rights we have fought for and will fight for again. Here, Dr. Zundel cites America’s Neocon traitors as Marxists. For many of us here, our own separate "path of discovery" has led us inexorably to the same conclusion, that the "Bush revolution" was everything but "Reaganesque" or even conservative.
America, like Germany in the 20’s, has been overrun by Bolsheviks, repackaged as "neocons," as "Zionists" and even as "Christian evangelists." They have been lovers of totalitarianism, of war, of "one world government" and of concentration camps and torture.
Increasingly, they control the current “anti-governmentî dialog of what purports itself to be the "anti-imperialist left." As the phony left and phony right melded, the underlying heart of Bolshevism has been revealed.g)
When I was twelve years old, I had it out with the Mennonite Elders - I asked why the Devil was not given a fair hearing. I knew he was a villain - everybody knew! - but nowhere in the Bible did I find a forum where the poor sob could argue his case.
I was, in essence, pleading chivalry.
I had been raised to take it for granted that an accused be treated with fairness and not be dismissed out of hand. As you can imagine, that argument fell on deaf ears. As a matter of fact, I found myself under suspicion that Satan himself had infested my mind. It was an experience I have never forgotten - my first introduction to the fury unleashed by conformist belief.
Reason did not enter into it at all.
More decades than I care to admit have turned me into a lady of decorum, but I still feel inside as I did then - defiant about unexamined dogma. In my book, it’s just not fair to dump buckets of slime on a scoundrel without allowing him the slightest chance of defense.
I speak of obligatory Hitler Bashing.
Even at risk of losing my scalp, I intend to raise that principle of chivalry again. Nowhere in the post-war era do I find a respectable forum where the Western world’s favorite villain can argue his case without rivers of spitballs and volleys of vilification.
After having listened to three generations worth of wall-to-wall disparagement I speak for one lone veteran who has been demonized like no other veteran on earth. Ever.
Veterans know that any war of serious magnitude will write its own harsh rules. Nonetheless, I take it for granted that my argument - even now - will fall on deaf ears. I know that I will find myself under suspicion that the Fuhrer's jackboots are surreptitiously parked under my bed.
However, this is Veterans Today- not veterans three or four generations ago. The time has come for balance.
More than a year ago, I was invited by Veterans Today's senior editor, Gordon Duff, to have my say my way. When several months ago I asked Gordon if this topic or that one might be too hot, he wrote me back, "We ain't afraid of no one."
I take him up on it. I take that chance to convey my uncensored opinion.
I will argue facts and conditions that were then, as they are now, on every veteran’s mind. The German veterans of yore - those who fought World War I - could have been your brothers and might yet be, if soldierly gallantry ever be given a chance.
Here is what today's media tells me: That US veterans today are being marginalized, neglected, arrested, abused, labeled as mentally ill - for speaking out against a corrupt government that has misused their youth and openheartedness and cares not one whit for its own.
"Is that how America honors its veterans?" they ask in disbelief. I hear it everywhere.
For me, it's deja vu, although I was not yet alive when my own ancestors, so history records, learned that a nasty government at the behest of faceless traitors had stabbed them in the back. Those were the times that brought forth Adolf Hitler - a young, impoverished veteran who had done his duty as best he knew how.
Now he and his comrades were homeless, hungry, unemployed, severely traumatized - battling depression and thoughts of suicide, their situation worse, much worse, than what it is today in a perplexed and traumatized America.
They, too, dealt with treason within.
They, too, saw their country betrayed, their values debauched, their parents in rags, their children’s future compromised - in the clutches of banksters and crooks.
I ask for simple fairness for a young man of modest means whose bravery in war, if nothing else, has never been in doubt. Say what you will - what you feel that you must since you think you are dealing with Satan! - but first know some pertinent facts before you condemn.
Fresh from the bloody battlefields and rat-infested trenches of a fratricidal war to benefit big banks, decorated with an iron cross for valor, now lying blinded by a poisoned gas attack in one of Germany’s dilapidated military hospitals - this young man, all by himself, decided that enough was enough.
He and his comrades would end the treason, betrayal and abuse by treacherous civilians as well as some of their own military leaders at the front.
The Versailles Treaty, with all its ghastly clauses and conditions that spelled the end of Germany, became the crux on which Adolf Hitler focused millions of Germany's veterans' fully justified rage. This unknown former soldier molded a ragged army of defeated, hungry comrades into a formidable political fighting force, which through its battlefield-tested courage and its resourcefulness and manly self-assertion took back the towns and cities of their fatherland from Marxist revolutionaries.
Street by street. City-block by city block. Village by village. Eventually whole regions.
Veterans marched. Veterans acted. And for the most part, without the use of guns.
How was that done? By comradely unity at huge demonstrations - stark evidence of an indomitable patriotic will.
This will to survive, to save their fatherland from hunger, shame, and treason was the accomplishment of millions of German war vets, fresh from the front, having come back to a hell’s pit of depravity. The decent, honorable country they had loved was finished. The banking system lay in ruins. Inflation had ravaged all savings. Pornography was king. Raw hunger stalked the streets - until one lone, self-educated veteran stood up, rolled up his sleeves, and rallied what strength was still left!
History records the rest of the story, a truly epic tale. The world should stand in awe.
Ah, but what of the SA? And what of the SS?
What of it? It’s cheap to be a Monday Morning Quarterback.
Those early supporters joining Hitler’s fledgling political party were not of the scum of the earth that had infested Germany’s cities. They were decent Germans, the salt of the earth, highly decorated, battle-tested war vets like you and your disheveled comrades - among them Rudolf Hess and Hermann Goring, a celebrated ace, severely wounded in combat.
Next joined the volunteers of what was called the Freikorps, by the thousands - soldiers who, without pay, would rush to the assistance of the hard-pressed, demonized, inadequately funded Reichswehr, forming a home-grown militia in many of the border regions where aliens flooded in to fatten themselves on Germany’s defeat.
Those were no Sunday visitors. They were the bloody Marxists and other foreign revolutionaries - thieves and murderers, all - seizing power over German towns, cities, entire regions - hell-bent on benefiting shamelessly from the ruin of Germany. You call your Marxists “neoconsî. They called them Spartakists. All blood-red commies, to the core - the alien vermin from the East.
Had Hitler not come, in no time at all Germany would have turned red - as would have all of Europe.
It was this highly disciplined force of disillusioned, furious war veterans that joined the equally emaciated, ill-equipped government forces on the Right. These German veterans, led by their Fuhrer - meaning Leader - lept into the breach, time and again, to prevent the collapse of their homeland.
Thousands of German war veterans sacrificed limbs, careers, families, even their lives by coming to the aid of what they called their Heimatland - the land which they called “home’ - which had fallen on desperate times.
It was the sacrifice of these thousands upon thousands of idealists that saved the mortally wounded German state and post-WWI society from utter collapse and threatening chaos.
These German war vets made the difference. In those dark days, the Germany of yesterday had simply no one else.
You did not know that - did you? I didn't. I heard this story only recently. I always assumed that Hitler, in the early years, collected some rambunctious skinheads from the dirty streets of Germany who rioted in taverns by swinging table legs.
When communist revolution had been checked and defeated, it was natural that many of the Freikorps volunteers joined Hitler’s National Socialist party and its uniformed political units - the SA and later the SS. Those were their nation's best - their battle-tested vets. It was these millions of veterans that followed Hitler's rallying cry - and in no time at all, by sheer necessity and iron discipline, subdued the Marxist scum.
Think what you will and say what's expected, but know that Hitler was a man of valor who did not shrink from duty in an emergency. He was the one who sent the Marxists packing.
I found a book review for you. Please take to heart what one of your own highly valued military historians has to say:
"Hitler: Beyond Evil & Tyranny" - By R. H. Stolfi, Prometheus Books, 2011
Reviewed by Gregory Johnson, Ph.D. :
“No man is a hero to his valet, not because the hero is not a hero, but because the valet is a valet.î ó G. W. F. Hegel
Adolf Hitler was clearly the man of the 20th century, whose shadow grows taller as the sun of the West sinks ever lower. Sadly, though, there is no biography worthy of Hitler.
If great men are those who leave their stamp on history, then Hitler was a great man. But great men present great problems for biographers. Great men are not necessarily good men, and even good men, when they hold political power, often find it necessary to kill innocent people. Evil men do not find this difficult, but good men do. Thus a good man, if he is to be a great man, must also be a hard man. But it is difficult for biographers, who are ordinary men, to sympathize with great men, especially men who are unusually bad or hard.
But biographers must at least try to enter imaginatively into the minds of their subjects. They must feel their feelings and think their thoughts. They must feel sympathy or empathy for their subjects. Such sympathy is not a violation of objectivity but a tool of it. It is a necessary counter-weight to the antipathy and ressentiment that hardness, cruelty, and greatness often inspire. Sympathy is necessary so a biographer can discover and articulate the virtues of intellect and character necessary to achieve anything great in this world, for good or ill.
Of course, one’s ability to sympathize with great men depends in large part on one’s moral principles. A Nietzschean or Social Darwinist would, for instance, find it easier to sympathize with a human beast of prey than would a Christian or a liberal democrat. Even so, it has been possible for Christians and liberals to write biographies of such great conquerors as Alexander the Great, Julius Caesar, Mohammed, Genghis Khan, and Napoleon without whipping themselves into thousand-page paroxysms of self-righteous moralistic denigration.
Hitler, of course, provides even greater problems for biographers, because his demonization is a prop of contemporary Jewish hegemony, and there are consequences for any writer who challenges that consensus.
R. H. S. Stolfi’s Hitler: Beyond Evil and Tyranny  is one of my favorite books on Hitler. It is not a biography of Hitler, although it is organized chronologically. It is, rather, a kind of “meta-biography,î an essay on the interpretation of Hitler’s life. Stolfi’s project has both positive and negative aspects: Stolfi critiques the existing interpretations of Hitler’s life as a whole and of specific episodes in Hitler’s life, and Stolfi sets forth his own interpretations.
Stolfi’s criticism of Hitler biographies focuses on the work of those he calls the four “great biographersî: John Toland (Adolf Hitler: The Definitive Biography ), Alan Bullock (Hitler: A Study in Tyranny  ), Joachim Fest (Hitler ), and Ian Kershaw (Hitler: 1889-1936, Hubris  and Hitler: 1936-1945, Nemesis  ). In Stolfi’s words, “the penchant of [Hitler's] biographers for gratuitous sarcasm, strained skepticism, and writing from preconceived heights of antipathy has left the world with a dangerously inaccurate portrait of Hitlerî (p. 54). (Judging from the reception of David Irving’s Hitler’s War and The War Path, the existing establishment regards an accurate portrait of Hitler more dangerous than an inaccurate one.) Four examples of this bias will sufficice:
(1) Ian Kershaw claims that outside of politics, Hitler was an "unperson," a nullity, which completely ignores Hitler's voracious reading, serious engagement with and understanding of philosophers like Schopenhauer, love of painting and fine art, remarkable architectural knowledge and skill, and love of classical music, including a connoisseur’s knowledge of the operas of Richard Wagner that impressed the Wagner family and other highly discerning individuals.
(2) Hitler’s biographers invariably denigrate his humble, common origins, coming off like parodies of the worst forms of social snobbery. But of course the same authors would wax sodden in describing any other man’s rise from poverty and obscurity to fame and fortune. Jesse Owens, for instance.
(3) Stolfi rebuts one of Joachim Fest’s most outrageous liberties as follows: “The great biographers all debunk Nazi theories of racial differences, which they characterize as pseudoscientific and based on unredeemed prejudice, yet one of them [Fest] could claim confidently, without hint of countervailing possibility, that the subject of his biography had ëcriminal features’ set in a ëpsychopathic face’î (p. 268).
(4) The great biographers regularly slight Hitler's service as a soldier during the First World War, yet as Stolfi points out, Hitler won the Iron Cross First Class, the Iron Cross Second Class, and a regimental commendation for bravery. He was also seriously wounded twice. Hitler never spoke much about what he did to earn these commendations, partly out of his characteristic modesty and reserve, but also probably because he did not wish to relive painful experiences. But even this is twisted by his biographers to cast aspersions on Hitler’s bravery and character. Stolfi notes that with no other historical figure do biographers feel entitled to take such liberties.
Kershaw is the most tendentious of the great biographers, repeatedly characterizing Hitler as an “unperson,î a “nonentity,î a “mediocrity,î and a “failure.î These epithets must surely feel good to Kershaw and like-minded readers, but if they are true, then Hitler’s career is utterly incomprehensible. Stolfi is acerbic, witty, and tireless in skewering the great biographers ó although some of his readers might find it tiresome as well.
In addition to offering fascinating interpretations of particular events, Stolfi argues for three overriding theses about Hitler: (1) Hitler cannot be understood as a politician but as a prophet, specifically a prophet forced to take on the role of a messiah; (2) Hitler cannot be understood as an evil man, but as a good man who was forced by circumstances and his own ruthless logic and unemotional “hardnessî to do terrible things; and (3) Hitler must be understood as one of the great men of history, indeed as a world-historical figure, who cannot be grasped with conventional moral concepts.
Surely by now you are thinking that our author must be some sort of “discredited,î “marginal,î outsider historian like David Irving, or even a dreaded “revisionist.î So who was Russell Stolfi?
Born in 1932, Stolfi is to all appearances an established, mainstream military historian. He was Professor at the US Naval Postgraduate School in Monterey, California and a Colonel in the US Marine Corps Reserve. He is the author of three other books: German Panzers on the Offensive: Russian Front-North Africa 1941-1942  (Schiffer Publishing, 2003), Hitler’s Panzers East: World War II Reinterpreted  (University of Oklahoma, 1993), and NATO Under Attack: Why the Western Alliance Can Fight Outnumbered and Win in Central Europe Without Nuclear Weapons  (with F. W. von Mellenthin, Duke University Press, 1983). I first read Hitler: Beyond Evil and Tyranny in May of 2012, and I was so excited that I tried to contact Stolfi for an interview only to learn that he had just died in April.)
Politician or Prophet?
Adolf Hitler was a formidable political organizer who took over a minuscule Bavarian debating club and turned it into the largest political party in Germany. After being imprisoned for an abortive Putsch, Hitler decided to attain power legally, through electoral politics. To that end, he virtually created the modern political campaign, traveling tirelessly by automobile and airplane and masterfully employing the mass media of his time. When he became Chancellor, Hitler proved a formidable statesman, transforming Germany with a virtually bloodless revolution and recovering German lands and pride through a series of deft foreign policy triumphs until the British and French started a World War to stop him.
Yet for all that, Stolfi argues that Hitler’s personality, goals, and grand strategy were more like those of a religious prophet, specifically an armed prophet like Mohammed.
Politicians presuppose a common political system and climate of opinion. They generally avoid contesting fundamental principles and instead deal with essentially quantitative differences within the same political and ideological continuum, hence their ability to compromise and their susceptibility to corruption. Stolfi points out again and again that Hitler refused to behave like a politician.
Hitler never compromised on basic principles. He took dangerously unpopular stands (p. 225). He refused to soften the party’s message to appeal to squeamish and lukewarm people. He was no demagogue: “A demagogue tells his audience what it wants to hear. A messiah tells his audience what he wants it to hearî (p. 248). Hitler never worried that his radical views would “discreditî him in the eyes of the public, whose minds were mostly in the grip of his enemies anyway. Instead, Hitler was supremely confident of his ability to lend credit to his ideas through reason and rhetoric. He wanted to elevate public opinion toward truth rather than condescend to pander to ignorance and folly.
Hitler also refused to enter common fronts with enemy parties, especially the Social Democrats, even when they took patriotic stands.
Hitler was, moreover, utterly incorruptible. He refused to make special promises to businessmen and other interest groups. He just handed them the party’s platform. In the end, he was offered the Chancellorship simply because his opponents knew he could not be bought off with anything less.
Revolutionaries deal with fundamental issues of principle, which is why they seek to overthrow existing systems and begin anew. Hitler was, of course, a political revolutionary. But he was something more. He saw himself as the exponent of a whole philosophy of life, not just a political philosophy. He placed politics in a larger biological and historical perspective: the struggle of Aryan man against Jewry and its extended phenotypes Communism and Anglo-Saxon capitalism. He believed the stakes were global: nothing less than the survival of all life on Earth was in peril. And having miraculously survived four years of slaughter and two serious wounds in the trenches of World War I ó including an experience that can only be described as supernatural (p. 95) ó Hitler believed that he enjoyed the special protection of Providence.
Hitler had a number of heroic role models. As a child, he was transported by Germanic myths and sagas. As a teenager, he identified with the hero of Wagner’s opera Rienzi, based on the story of Cola di Rienzi, the 14th century popular dictator who sought to restore Rome to its Imperial glory but who was undone by the treachery of the aristocracy and church and finally murdered. Hitler prophesied that he would become a tribune of the people who would rise and fall like Rienzi, and he did. Hitler also identified with Wagner’s Lohengrin and Siegfried. Although Hitler himself had little use for the Bible, his later career as armed prophet brings to mind the Hebrew prophets and lawgivers as well. Stolfi’s analogy between Hitler and Mohammed is quite apposite and revealing.
Savior of Germany ó and Europe
Hitler, however, apparently did not think of himself as a messiah figure, but more as a John the Baptist, preparing the way for someone greater than him. But, as Stolfi documents, many of Hitler’s closest followers ó all of them intelligent men, ranging from mystics like Hess to consummate cynics like Goebbels ó as well as some of his more fair-minded enemies, did see him as a messiah figure, and in the end, he was forced to take on that role. Reading Stolfi makes Savitri Devi’s thesis in The Lightning and the Sun that Hitler was an avatar of the god Vishnu seem a little less eccentric. (Savitri did not originate that thesis. It was a view that she encountered widely among educated Hindus in the 1930s.) There was something messianic about Hitler’s aura and actions, and people around the world understood it in terms of their own cultural traditions.
Stolfi does not mention it, but there is a sense in which Hitler was the savior of Germany and all of Western Europe, although his accomplishments fell far short of his ambitions, consumed his life, and devastated his nation. When Hitler launched operation Barbarossa in 1941, the Soviets were poised to launch a massive invasion of all of Central and Western Europe. Hitler pre-empted that invasion, and although he failed to destroy the USSR, the Third Reich was destroyed instead, and Stalin conquered half of Europe, the outcome would have been much worse if Stalin had been able to launch his invasion. Stalin could have conquered all of Europe. At best he would have been repulsed after unimaginable devastation and bloodshed. Thus every Western European who has lived in freedom from want and terror since 1941 owes a debt of thanks to Adolf Hitler, the German people, and their Axis partners.
(See on this site Daniel Michaels, “Exposing Stalin’s Plan to Conquer Europe î and the National Vanguard review  of Viktor Suvorov’s Icebreaker; for more recent literature on this subject, see Viktor Suvorov’s definitive statement of his research has been published as The Chief Culprit: Stalin’s Grand Design to Start World War II  [Annapolis, Md.: Naval Institute Press, 2008] and Joachim Hoffmann, Stalin’s War of Extermination, 1941-1945: Planning, Realization and Documentation  [Capshaw, Al.: Theses and Dissertations Press, 2001].)
The Question of Evil
In today’s climate of moral relativism and rot, Adolf Hitler is probably the only human being that even liberals will denounce as evil. Hitler is the modern world’s paradigm and embodiment of evil. But of course other people can be evil if they are “like Hitler.î Thus the most radical thesis of Stolfi’s book is that Adolf Hitler was not evil.
There are many dimensions to this argument.
(1) Stolfi points out that there is no evidence that Hitler had psychopathic or sociopathic personality traits as a child. He did not torture animals or steal, for instance. He was polite, serious, and reserved.
(2) Stolfi also points out that Hitler was not primarily motivated by hate or ressentiment. He arrived at his two great enmities, namely against Jewry and Bolshevism, based on personal experience, current events, and extensive research. But when he was rationally convinced of their enormity, he naturally hated them with appropriate magnitude and intensity. As Stolfi writes, “It is difficult to imagine Hitler either as messiah or otherwise and not hating the enemy. Did Jesus the Christ or Mohammed the Prophet hate Satan or merely disapprove of him?î (p. 233).
(3) Calling Hitler evil, like calling him “crazy,î is mentally lazy, because it exempts us from trying to understand the reasons for Hitler’s actions: both his thought processes and objective events that prompted him to act. Hitler had his reasons.
(4) Stolfi argues that Hitler’s character, goals, and actions were not evil. Hitler did what he thought was right, and he was hard enough to spill oceans of blood if he thought it was necessary to advance the greater good. A Socratic, of course, would claim that it is an empty claim, as nobody does evil as such but only under the guise of a perceived good. The evil of an act is in its outcome, not its motive. We all “mean well.î
(5) Stolfi hints that Hitler may have, in a sense, been beyond good and evil, because his goal was nothing less than the creation of a new order, including a new moral order, and it begs the question to subject such men to the moral laws they seek to overthrow. This points us back to Stolfi’s thesis that Hitler has to be seen more as a religious than a political figure and forward to his third major thesis, that Hitler was a world-historical individual.
Stolfi deals with a number of episodes in Hitler’s life that are adduced as evidence of evil. Stolfi argues that some of these acts are not evil at all. He others that others were necessary or mitigated evils.
And he claims that still others were no more evil than the actions of other great men of history who nevertheless manage to receive respectful treatment from biographers. Finally, Stolfi argues that all of these acts, even the evil ones, do not necessarily make Hitler an evil man, for even good men can commit horrific acts if they believe they are necessary to promote a greater good.
(1) Stolfi argues that Hitler’s Beer Hall Putsch and other violations of the laws of the Weimar Republic are somewhat softened by the fact that he believed that the Weimar Republic was an illegitimate and criminal regime. Hitler’s early attempts to defy it and replace it are not, therefore, “evil,î unless all acts of disobedience and revolution against governments as such are evil. In any case, after his release from prison, Hitler adopted a policy of strict legality: he pursued the Chancellorship through electoral politics, and he won.
(2) Stolfi argues that the creation of the Sturmabteilungen (Storm Troops) was not motivated by a desire to violently intimidate political opponents and seize power. Instead, the SA was formed in self-defense against organized Communist efforts to violently intimidate political opponents and seize power, violence that had effectively suppressed the ability of all Right-wing parties to assemble. The SA did not merely assure the NSDAP’s freedom to assemble and organize, it broke the Red terror and restored political freedom to all parties.
(3) Stolfi argues that the Rˆhm purge was necessary because there was ample evidence that Rˆhm himself was plotting a coup, and, true or not, Hindenburg, the leaders of the military, and Hitler’s top lieutenants all believed it to be true. Hindenburg threatened to declare martial law and have the army deal with Rˆhm if Hitler would not. Hitler had to act, because if he didn’t, he would be effectively deposed: he would be abdicating the sovereign function to decide and act for the good of the people to Hindenburg and the army. Even so, Hitler temporized to the last possible moment.
R. H. S. Stolfi, 1932-2012
Stolfi claims that Rˆhm’s death was a kind of apotheosis for Hitler: “By June 1934, Hitler stood poised to pass beyond friendship with any man into the realm of the lonely, distant Leader. But Hitler could never pass into that realm with Rˆhm alive and serving as a reminder of Hitler’s own historical mortality. Rˆhm had to die, and Hitler had to kill himî (p. 306). But this was not, of course, Hitler’s motive for killing him.
Ultimately, Stolfi judges Rˆhm’s death to be politically necessary and morally excusable. He describes it not as a cool, premeditated murder but as a “crime of passionî of a man faced with the infidelity of a sworn confidant (p. 309). Of course, the Rˆhm purge was the occasion for settling a number of other old scores, which complicates Stolfi’s moral picture considerably.
(4) Stolfi evidently thinks there was nothing evil at all about Hitler’s assumption of dictatorial powers ó through a provision in the Weimar constitution ó or his suppression of a political movement as destructive and implacable as Marxism. But he praises the relative bloodlessness of Hitler’s legal revolution.
(5) As for the concentration camps off to which Hitler packed the leaders of the Marxist parties and other subversive groups: in 1935, when the German population stood at 65 million, the concentration camp inmates numbered 3,500, most of them Communists and Social Democrats. The camp system and its mandate were expanded to house people in protective custody for being social nuisances, including beggars, drunks, homosexuals (homosexuality was criminalized under the Second Reich, remained criminalized under Weimar, and was criminalized in the liberal democracies too), gypsies, and habitual criminals ó by 1939 there were 10 camps with 25,000 inmates in a country of 80 million people. That doesn’t seem quite as evil as it was cracked up to be. Furthermore, since Himmler and Heydrich certainly did not lack persecuting zeal and organizational skill, we can conclude that the camp system was exactly as big as they thought it should be.
To give some context, according to Wikipedia  - where statistics about Soviet atrocities tend to be on the low end due to Marxist policing ó in March of 1940, the Soviet Gulag comprised 53 separate camps and 423 labor colonies in which approximately 1.3 million people were interned out of a population of 170 million. Whatever the real size, it was exactly as big as Stalin wanted it to be.
Although I have not been able to find records of similar forms of internment in liberal democracies for political dissidents and social nuisances, these surely did take place. But even in the absence of these numbers, it seems clear that Hitler’s camps were far more similar to the prisons of liberal democracies than the Soviet Gulag to which they are always likened.
Of course, these were peacetime numbers. Under the exigencies of war, Hitler’s camp system expanded dramatically to house hostile populations, prisoners of war, and conscript laborers, which is another topic.
(6) Hitler’s anti-Semitism is often put forward as evidence of evil. Hitler himself thought that certain forms of anti-Semitism were repugnant if not outright evil: religious anti-Semitism, anti-Semitism based on ressentiment, gutter populist scapegoating, etc. His repugnance for such phenomena prejudiced him against anti-Semitism as such. But his personal experiences in Vienna, combined with serious reading eventually led him to a dispassionate, scientifically based, and historically informed anti-Semitism.
When Hitler took power, Germany had a relatively small Jewish population. His basic policy was to prevent any further German-Jewish genetic admixture, remove Jews from positions of power and influence, and encourage Jews to emigrate. By the outbreak of the Polish war, Germany’s Jewish population had been dramatically reduced. But due to Hitler’s war gains, millions of new Jews fell into his remit. More about this anon. Stolfi is somewhat circumspect in passing judgment about Hitler’s peacetime Jewish policy. But we can safely say that it was no more evil than, say, the British treatment of Boer non-combatants or the American treatment of the Plains Indians.
(7) Regarding Hitler’s foreign policy exploits as Chancellor ó including rearmament, pulling out of the League of Nations, remilitarizing the Rhineland, the annexation of the Sudetenland and Austria, the annexation of Bohemia, and the war with Poland ó Stolfi writes, “every international crisis that involved Hitler in the 1930s stemmed from an iniquity on the part of the Allies in the Paris Peace Conference of 1919? (p. 316). According to Stolfi, in all of these crises, morality was on Hitler’s side, and he lauds Hitler for conducting them with restraint and relative bloodlessness ó at least up until the Polish war.
These were hardly the outrageous, unendurable moral provocations of Allied propaganda that justified Britain and France starting a World War because Hitler, having exhausted diplomatic negotiations, started a war with Poland to recover German lands and peoples subjected to horrific Polish oppression. The British and French simply could not grasp that, in Stolfi’s words, “a world-historical personality had marched, outraged, out of the desert of shattered Flanders fields, and the former Allies had not even superior morality to shield themselves from himî (p. 317).
(8) Stolfi interprets Operation Barbarossa against the USSR as a colonial war of conquest as well as a crusade to rid Europe of the scourge of Bolshevism. From an ethnonationalist perspective, of course, Hitler’s aim to reduce Slavs to colonized peoples was evil. Furthermore, it was more evil than British, French, Spanish, Portuguese, Belgian, American, and Russian imperialism directed at non-European peoples, because it is always worse to mistreat one’s own blood than foreigners. But it was certainly not uniquely evil in the annals of human history. If Genghis Khan and Timur the Lame can be the subjects of objective historical assessments, then Barbarossa does not disqualify Hitler.
Stolfi does not treat Barbarossa as a necessary war to preempt Stalin’s planned invasion of Europe. I wanted to ask Stolfi his thoughts about the thesis defended by Viktor Suvorov and Joachim Hoffmann in an interview, but that was not to be. If they are right, of course, than there was no evil at all in launching Barbarossa, although one can justly criticize the excesses of its execution.
(9) According to Stolfi, Hitler’s darkest deeds are the massacre of 3.1 million Soviet POWs captured in the opening months of Barbarossa and the killing of 4.5 million Jews in what is known as the Holocaust. Stolfi is certainly a Hitler revisionist, but I do not know whether he is a Holocaust revisionist or not, since I am unsure if it is legal for him to think that “onlyî 4.5 million Jews were killed by the Third Reich. I had not even heard of the 3.1 million Soviet POWs, which Stolfi mentions only a couple of times in passing. But of course I have heard of the Holocaust, to which Stolfi dedicates the last two paragraphs of the book (pp. 461-62). Such a brief treatment may itself constitute revisionism, at least in France, where Jean-Marie Le Pen was fined for saying that the Holocaust was only a footnote to the Second World War. Given that some footnotes are longer than the paragraphs in question, Stolfi might have gotten in trouble in the land of libertÈ. Stolfi’s treatment, however, is a welcome corrective to the Jewish tendency to treat World War II as merely the backdrop of the Holocaust.
Of course, just as Hitler is our age’s paradigm of an evil man, the Holocaust is the paradigm of an evil event. Stolfi does not dispute that the massacre of 7.6 million people is evil. But he does not think it is uniquely evil in World War II or the annals of history in general. Winston Churchill, for example, was responsible for the starvation of millions of Indians whose food was seized for the war effort. He was responsible for the deaths of hundreds of thousands of German non-combatants in strategically unnecessary terror bombings of German cities. He was responsible for the expulsion of 14 million Germans from their homes in Eastern and Central Europe, up to two million of whom died. Was Churchill evil? His apologists, of course, would argue that his actions were necessitated by the exigencies of war and the pursuit of the greater good. But Hitler’s apologists, if there were any, could argue the very same thing and be done with it. If Churchill, Lenin, Trotsky, Stalin, Mao, Pol Pot, Julius Caesar, and other members of the Million Murder club can receive fair treatment in a biography, then why not Hitler?
Stolfi compares the Holocaust to Julius Caesar’s 10 year conquest of Gaul, in which he killed more than a million armed men and reduced another million to slavery. One million civilian non-combatants were also killed or reduced to slavery. Some particularly troublesome tribes were entirely exterminated because they were “irreconcilable, menacing, and useless either as allies or slavesî (p. 38). Stolfi points out, however, that Caesar’s acts “revealed harshness of almost incredible proportion,î but his acts were “based on realism and prudence in the face of perceived danger ó scarcely sadism and crueltyî (p. 38). Likewise, Stolfi argues that “Hitler took the action of pitiless massacre as a last resort in the face of a perceived irreconcilable enemyî and his actions “showed virtually nothing that can be interpreted as sadism, cruelty, or ingrained hate as opposed to temporary fury in the carrying out of the actionî (p. 39).
Hitler’s massacres, terrible though they may be, do not prove that he is an evil man, since even good men might resort to such measures in direst extremity. Moreover, even if they were expressions of evil, they were not unique expressions of unique evil but all too common in the annals of history. But, again, only in Hitler’s case are they treated as insuperable objections to serious historical treatment.
In sum, Stolfi argues that Hitler cannot be seen as evil if that means that he was motivated by sadism, psychopathy, hatred, or a neurotic need for power and attention. Instead, Hitler was motivated, first and foremost, by love of his people, beyond which were wider but less pressing concerns with the larger Aryan race, European civilization, and the welfare of the world as a whole. Because Hitler believed that the things he loved were imperiled by Jewry, Bolshevism, and Anglo-Saxon capitalism, he fought them. And when the fight became a world conflagration, he fought them with a remarkable hardness and severity. But his essentially decent character and positive ends remained unchanged. Thus for Stolfi, Hitler is a good man who did some bad things as well as good things ó a good man who made many good decisions and some catastrophic mistakes.
A Dark World Historical Personality
But there is a sense in which Stolfi thinks that Hitler is beyond the very categories of good and evil, at least as far as historians should be concerned. Stolfi argues that Hitler was a great man, like such great conquerors as Alexander the Great, Julius Caesar, Mohammed, and Napoleon. (Stolfi makes scant mention of unarmed prophets like the Buddha or Jesus.) According to Stolfi, if one were to freeze Hitler’s life at the end of 1942, he would have to be considered one of history’s greatest statesmen and conquerors. And even if one plays the film all the way to the end, Stolfi argues that the Allies did not win World War II so much as Hitler lost it, which itself underscores his greatness and the relative nullity of his opponents.
Indeed, Stolfi argues that Hitler was more than just a great man but one of Hegel’s “world-historical individuals,î who inaugurates a new stage in human history and cannot be judged or comprehended by the standards of the previous stage. Stolfi, it seems, detaches this concept from Hegel’s overall view that world-historical individuals advance history toward the Providential goal of universal freedom, a goal that Hitler, of course, rejected in favor of particularisms of race and nation. Sadly, though, Hitler may have advanced the universalist agenda in defeat, through no intention of his own.
But, as another prophetic figure once said of World War II, “the war’s not over as far as I’m concerned,î meaning that history is still unfolding, including the consequences of Hitler’s actions. So it remains to be seen whether Hitler will contribute to the victory or defeat of universalism. If racial nationalism ó of which Hitler is an inexpungeable part ó defeats the drive toward a homogeneous global society, then Hitler would be a world historical figure of an entirely new order: not an agent of “progress,î but of its termination; the man who ended the “end of historyî and started the world anew; the man who took the ascending line of progress and inscribed it within a cyclical view of history, whether interpreted in the widely variant Traditionalist or Spenglerian senses.
* * *
Hitler: Beyond Evil and Tyranny is a remarkable book that I recommend to all my readers. It is an audacious project executed with clarity and dry humor. Sometimes Stolfi seems to go a bit too far, perhaps just to test his dialectical skills. For instance, he even defends Hitler as a painter. He does a surprisingly good job, but I will still not budge from my conviction that Winston Churchill was Hitler’s superior in this ó and only this ó regard.
This book is even more remarkable because it is the work of a mainstream military historian. Let us hope that it clears the way for other genuinely historical studies of Hitler and the Third Reich. This really is an inevitable development as the generations that lived through the war die off. Furthermore, we are now living in a multipolar world with new rising powers ó Russia, China, India ó that are free of Jewish cultural and political hegemony and hungry for a genuine understanding of Hitler and the Second World War.
White Nationalism would, of course, still be true and good even if Hitler were every bit the monster and tyrant that his enemies claim. But White Nationalists should still welcome Stolfi’s book because reducing the cloud of moral hysteria and denigration that surrounds Hitler somewhat lowers the impediment we have to step over. Stolfi takes some of the sting out of the inevitable accusation that we are “just like Hitlerî ó which, it turns out, is an undeserved compliment.
Book Review by Dr. Gregory Johnson, June 7, 2013,
The letter below, written by a Norwegian physician volunteer working in Gaza, needs no introduction - the heading I gave it says it all! A lifetime ago, I was a child who experienced first-hand the kind of carnage the Gaza civilians experience even as I write this. To call it “inhuman” does not do it justice. It is, in my opinion, satanic.
Please circulate this letter widely. It needs to go viral on the Net.
The last night was extreme. The “ground invasion” of Gaza resulted in scores and carloads with maimed, torn apart, bleeding, shivering, dying - all sorts of injured Palestinians, all ages, all civilians, all innocent.
The heroes in the ambulances and in all of Gazaís hospitals are working 12-24 hour shifts, grey from fatigue and inhuman workloads (without payment all in Shifa for the last 4 months), they care, triage, try to understand the incomprehensible chaos of bodies, sizes, limbs, walking, not walking, breathing, not breathing, bleeding, not bleeding humans. HUMANS!
Now, once more treated like animals by “the most moral army in the world” (sic!).
My respect for the wounded is endless, in their contained determination in the midst of pain, agony and shock; my admiration for the staff and volunteers is endless, my closeness to the Palestinian “sumud” gives me strength, although in glimpses I just want to scream, hold someone tight, cry, smell the skin and hair of the warm child, covered in blood, protect ourselves in an endless embrace - but we cannot afford that, nor can they.
Ashy grey faces - Oh NO! Not one more load of tens of maimed and bleeding, we still have lakes of blood on the floor in the ER, piles of dripping, blood-soaked bandages to clear out - oh - the cleaners, everywhere, swiftly shovelling the blood and discarded tissues, hair, clothes,cannulas - the leftovers from death - all taken away Ö to be prepared again, to be repeated all over.
More then 100 cases came to Shifa in the last 24 hrs. Enough for a large well trained hospital with everything, but here - almost nothing: no electricity, water, disposables, drugs, OR-tables, instruments, monitors - all rusted and as if taken from museums of yesterdayís hospitals. But they do not complain, these heroes. They get on with it, like warriors, head on, enormously resolute.
And as I write these words to you, alone, on a bed, my tears flow, the warm but useless tears of pain and grief, of anger and fear. This is not happening! An then, just now, the orchestra of the Israeli war-machine starts its gruesome symphony again, just now: salvos of artillery from the navy boats just down on the shores, the roaring F16, the sickening drones (Arabic ëZennanisí, the hummers), and the cluttering Apaches. So much made in and paid by the US.
I invite you - spend one night - just one night - with us in Shifa. Disguised as a cleaner, maybe. I am convinced, 100%, it would change history.
Nobody with a heart AND power could ever walk away from a night in Shifa without being determined to end the slaughter of the Palestinian people.
But the heartless and merciless have done their calculations and planned another “dahyia” onslaught on Gaza.
The rivers of blood will keep running the coming night. I can hear they have tuned their instruments of death.
Please. Do what you can. This, THIS cannot continue.
Mads Gilbert MD PhD?.
Professor and Clinical Head
Clinic of Emergency Medicine
University Hospital of North Norway
Republican Party Animal: The Travails of a Jewish Holocaust Skeptic/By David Cole
The "Bad Boy of Holocaust History” blows the lid off Hollywood’s secret right-wing underground
(Comments below by Ingrid Zundel)
This controversial title is available on Amazon. I read it a few days ago and discussed small parts of it with Ernst. He hasn’t read it yet, and I am curious as to his response after he has read it. For now, he only said: “Since David has done us the favor and outed himself, we can afford to seize the opportunityÖ”
I assume that most supporters on my list who receive my Power Letter are familiar with the story of a young Jew named David Cole who played a brilliant role in early revisionism. Ernst had befriended him and had taken him protectively under his wings because there were people in the nascent “Revisionist Movement for Truth in History” who instinctively disliked and distrusted David Cole Ö because he was a Jew.
Ernst felt that David was a genuinely idealistic youngster, barely twenty years of age when they met, enamored with his role as a fiery “free speech advocate” who had started doing useful work in turning over Auschwitz’s shards of history.
Ernst and I had barely met in 1994, and I was still a novice and learning “who was who and what was what.” Ernst told me of his young Jewish friend of his who had been introduced to an alternative view of history by a young Irish revisionist scholar by the name of David McCalden. The latter had been instrumental in founding and promoting the California-based Institute for Historical Review.
One incident, particularly, impressed Ernst as to David Cole’s sincerity and courage, as David Cole told the story. There had been an altercation between McCalden and Irv Rubin, then the head of an American-based terrorist group called the Jewish Defense League where McCalden was viciously beaten and thrown through a plate glass window - and David, still a teenager and slight of build, had heroically come to McCalden’s aid.
It was a vivid, touching story, totally believable, as Ernst recounted it to me - and as David retold it to me in every small detail when I got to meet him a decade or so later. Imagine! A little Jewish kid fighting for a besieged revisionist leader! What a courageous deed!
Well, that was then, and now is now. As David tells it in Republican Party Animal, here is what really happened:
The first time I had to face the possibility of my interest in revisionism becoming public was in 1989. McCalden told me he was going to a debate at a Beverly Hills temple. Irv Rubin, lovable and murderous head of the Jewish Defense league (JDL) was going to debate a Jewish leader who didn’t approve of killing people. I’d seen Rubin on TV slapping around anti-Semites (the guy was built like a golem). It sounded like a fun evening.
Sitting in the rear of the temple where some of my childhood friends had been bar-mizvah’d, I anxiously awaited the invigorating back-and-forth. I saw McCalden enter the temple, quietly, from the lobby. Within five seconds, a half-dozen JDL guys piled on him. They dragged him into the lobby and put his head through a glass-plate window. He was tossed onto the sidewalk. Of course, I immediately stood up and said, “That was uncalled for! This is a house of God!” WellÖactually, no. I just sat there in a meek, cowardly silence. The debate went on as planned, but after Rubin told the crowd that the guy he just beat up was a “Nazi,” he won over the audience for the rest of the night.
The next day, McCalden called me. He asked if I saw the fracas. I didn’t call him back.
Then I saw reports on the incident in two local papers. “Neo-Nazi David McCalden burst into a local temple during services and attempted to rip up the Torah, while shouting ëHeil Hitler!’ Security escorted him out.”
Until I read this second version about two week ago, I still believed the first. I called Ernst and asked him if he had ever heard this version. He said it was all news to him.
David further illustrates his early interaction with McCalden:
I read that McCalden was a militant atheist, an Irish nationalist, and a Holocaust revisionist (the term denier had not yet been coined, so revisionists were called revisionists, even by their foes.) McCalden had co-founded the largest revisionist publishing house in North America, the Institute for Historical Review, in Orange County, California.
I found McCalden’s ideological mix fascinating, Atheist, Irish nationalist, Holocaust revisionist. Racist? Maybe, but he had a non-white wife. And there were rumors that he was a closeted gay. It was a mix I’d yet to encounter as I profiled ideologues. I wrote to him. I asked for some info, some literature. Instead, I got a personal visit. But he didn’t come to proselytize, he came to fight.
He thought I was a “Jewish infiltrator” trying to cozy up to him for nefarious purposes. He already had that suspicion when he drove to my house, and when he saw the mezuzah on my door, he went totally apeshit. I tried to convince him that I was not working with or for anybody. I just wanted to know what motivated a guy like him.
I must have been convincing, because he believed me. He gave me some literature and took off. And I read it. Incredibly amateur stuff. I took everything and put it aside. I had no interest in revisiting it.
A little sidebar here, McCalden was an intellectual and a truly gifted writer, but it is possible that the revisionist material at that time was still amateurish. Remember, revisionism still barely existed. Only in 1985 and then 1988, after the two Great Holocaust trials, alternately known as the “Ernst Zundel False News Trials” galvanized the movement, was there solid, documented evidence available globally that not all was as claimed in the traditional Holocaust version. David Cole acknowledges this as he describes his progression as a revisionist activist below:
I went back to see McCalden, but just my luck, the poor bastard had upped and died of AIDS after giving it to his wife as well. I guess those gay rumors must have had merit, not that there’s anything wrong with that (well, to be fair, I think the whole “giving AIDS to your wife” thing was pretty wrong.)
McCalden’s social circle consisted of his Holocaust revisionist buddies and his atheist buddies (there was a fair amount of crossover). The atheist guys were a pretty decent bunch - not racist at all. Plus, I used to self-identify as an atheist in my youth, (I don’t anymore), I fit in very well with them.
One of the atheist guys, the man entrusted with dealing with McCalden’s massive collection of books and files (maybe three thousand books, and at least a hundred huge file boxes of papers), decided they should go to someone a bit more rational than some of the well-known names in the revisionist field. (Ö) So, overnight, I inherited one of the largest libraries of Holocaust books in L.A. And lots and lots of correspondence - almost twenty years worth.
I read through the revisionist literature. It provided no answers, but it left me with several questions. The problem was, mainstream historians would never address revisionist concerns and the revisionists, for the most part, were sloppy and (mostly) ideologically motivated.
I also happened to enter the Holocaust history field at just the right time. Several things were in play. The freedom of travel and research in Poland, not possible during the Cold War years. And the amazingly inept, self-defeating criminal trials of Holocaust denier (yes, denier, not revisionist) Ernst Zundel in Canada, throughout the ë80s, which made a lot of people who would have otherwise ignored revisionism think twice about the reliability of the Auschwitz story.
Blame Canada! (Ö)
Here’s what I want to say: As yet, no doctorate in revisionism exists. I don’t know just how one earns one’s laurels as a “revisionist” - but there exists even today not one sole human being on the face of the earth who has done as much as Ernst Zundel responsibly revising history. He and his trials have brought an entire alternative view of history under one hood and given it visibility and authenticity.
I asked Ernst to write me a synopsis of his interaction with David:
In the early 1980s, Canada was still an Anglo-Saxon country adhering to the “majesty of law”. There was still respectful decorum observed in the courtrooms. It was true that I was under siege politically from many quarters even then. For one, the post-war Germans, always willing to demonstrate subservient compliance to please the Allied Powers still ruling Germany, refused to extend my passport, and I was effectively “grounded” in Canada, not being able to travel anywhere. I was in a Siberian Gulag-type situation, besieged by government-initiated criminal prosecutions for what was called “false news”.
I was beaten, spat at, the target of arson and pipe and parcel bombs by terrorists of all stripes, including terror acts initiated by Irv Rubin and his hoodlums - yet I had become increasingly effective with my worldwide information outreach - its main message being that the guilt heaped on the German people for crimes alleged to have happened might not be warranted. I pleaded for a neutral global debate - all facts, such as they were, on the table!
I was sending my monthly newsletter to 43 countries in German and in English. I was broadcasting in both languages via shortwave radio stations from America, various stations in Africa, the Middle East, via Christian missionary shortwave stations in Israel’s South Lebanon-occupied area, and also broadcast eventually from Radio Moscow’s Kˆnigsberg/Kaliningrad AM station which could be heard all over Western and Eastern countries, loud and clear, without the usual distortions and customary poor reception of shortwave.
Simultaneously, my supporters and I were rapidly expanding our Public Access outreach on 145 to 160 US TV stations with the help of thousands of volunteers. The Zundel media juggernaut was awesome to behold. This unnerved my detractors to the point that they set up a “flying squad” of Simon Wiesenthal/ADL-like pressure groups who were burning up the telephones to enforce the traditional Holocaust version across the USA by putting pressure on newspaper editors, station managers, advertisers etc.
That’s when David Cole entered the picture.
I had heard from the people at the IHR that a young Jew frequently visited them and borrowed and watched every videotape of the Zundel/Samisdat Publishers productions. Since I could not leave Canada for visits to the US or Europe to lecture, David came to Canada, and we became fast friends. I presented him to the public via lectures, press conferences and private gatherings, making him also available to various political intelligence organizations with whom I had developed friendly working relationships.
Thus, these police and intelligence officials could get first-hand information on what I did, said, and wrote. I always shared our venues with my police and intelligence contacts. I sought out attorney generals, justice ministry officials, and even parliamentarians from various provinces. There was nothing clandestine about my political outreach. This was my standard operating procedure for decades in every country I operated. It paid good dividends for an alternative view of history the public was entitled to hear.
I followed the same procedure with David Cole. When he came to Canada, I toured the country with him. He spoke in packed hotel ballrooms full of cheering crowds of not only Zundel supporters but also the public in general.
I am told that in his recently released book David portrays our outreach in a less than flattering manner. That is his view now, but David Cole knows perfectly well that in his very young years he fully and enthusiastically participated in this outreach campaign for Truth in History. He truly gave it his all. He was young, good-looking, eloquent, well-mannered - no gutter language then! We were on a roll, and he helped to legitimize the image we tried to project - that we were not some low-brow idiots who ran around with swastikas and hated Jews and Blacks. It was a pleasure to work with him in private and in public at the time.
The legal struggle around the Zundel outreach even then was fierce, but I won numerous important court cases in Canada and Germany. I had been banned from the mail - and in an epic public tribunal hearing I won my mailing privileges back. I could once again flood the world with my historical information material.
I also won a court case in Germany against the infamous Paragraph 130. The state had to give me my bank account back. I used that money to go into information overdrive. At the same time, my German attorney, J¸rgen Rieger, won an astonishing victory against the German Federal Authorities who were forced by court order to issue me a new passport - “forthwith!”
David Cole and I kept in close touch throughout the 1990s. After my Supreme Court victory in 1992 he told me he was going to Auschwitz and other camps in Poland to make interviews for documentaries for use in the U.S. As fate would have it, David was filming in Auschwitz exactly when I was issued my brand new German passport. I immediately contacted him via phone at the Auschwitz Holiday Inn and flew to Europe at once, meeting him the next day on-site to make interviews with him there in the actual locations - a sensational opportunity!
I took my own cameraman along, and David brought his own “camera woman.” By the time I arrived, David had been there already several days interviewing Polish Auschwitz officials and touring the camps with them. I decided to let David be my “tour guide.” Two documentaries resulted - one in English and one in German. They are still worth their weight in gold.
Ernst Zundel and David Cole at Auschwitz
While still in Europe, I organized several talks and press conferences and meeting with German intelligence officers in Munich and elsewhere.
David was a sensation, lionized by the Germans and even the police and mainstream media when he told them of the many irregularities in the official Holocaust tale. My enemies were shell-shocked by it all! This was in 1989; right after the Berlin Wall fell.
Since I could now travel again, I roamed the world to my heart’s content. I met David several times in the US - where by that time, he himself was under assault quite literally by terrorist and arsonist thugs, and where eventually a US$20,000 fatwa/reward had been offered by the Jewish Defense League’s Irv Rubin for David Cole’s head - “dead or alive.”
JDL’s leader Irv Rubin
Under such dire terrorist threat, David Cole issued his famous “recantation”. During his travails, I kept in constant touch, privately - by telephone, fax, and in clandestine meetings in California, where he was always accompanied by huge, black bodyguards. It looked like the terrorists had won. I myself became the target of abuse and derision all over again because I had worked so closely with this young, brilliant Jew.
It did not take long, and my life took several turns for the worse. I was arrested and expelled from the US to the Gulag in Canada in isolation, treated by the Canadian spy services as a “danger to the security of Canada.” I battled deportation for two years, wearing an orange, Guantanamo style uniform, handcuffs and leg irons.
In my second year of detention, my wife Ingrid told me that David Cole, revisionist Bradley Smith, and some Mexican friend were going to make a documentary about my life. I got permission from prison authorities to be filmed by them - a big surprise to me! - but when the so-called “film crew” arrived, it all fizzled out because they were a sorry bunch of incompetent, lying crooks. The whole unsavory episode is part of David’s book. I haven’t read it yet, but Ingrid has told me enough for me to form an opinion.
How do I feel about this mix of literary brilliance, pornographic sleaze - and truths, half-truths, and brazen, bald-faced lies that leave me simply speechless? I understand he is a serious alcoholic. God only knows what inner devils plague David Cole these days.
As for myself, I feel detached. I am sad for so much talent laid to waste by booze and lack of sexual restraint. I also feel betrayed, because some twenty years ago I thought in all sincerity that David was my friend. But this betrayal does not touch my inner core about what happened then and what is being said today.
How does David Cole view his erstwhile friend and mentor today?
Ernst Z¸ndel was a German who immigrated to Canada in 1958. Zundel loves Hitler. I mean, he really loves Hitler. But, and this is the point I have a hell of a time communicating to people, he loves Hitler because he’s certain, he knows, that sweetie-pie Adolf was framed. That mustached little munchkin couldn’t hurt a fly. Zundel really, sincerely, believes that. He’s nuts, but he’s not dangerous.
With gritted teeth, let me put it this way and leave it at that: Cole certainly is right to say Ernst is not, and never has been, “dangerous” Ö but would three, possibly four Western governments have conspired to the tune of millions and millions of taxpayers dollars to run down, kidnap and furiously try to silence a “nut”?
David knows better - that’s all that I can say! Whatever else you might think about David, he is a very bright man. He even sheepishly admits he knows what happened to Ernst Zundel as he expands his version in the following few paragraphs:
Z¸ndel’s name would not be known if he hadn’t been subjected to two criminal prosecutions by the Canadian government.
In Europe, if you’re arrested for being a Holocaust revisionist, you can’t mount a defense of “but I’m right.” You can’t use “truth” as your defense. You can’t argue your beliefs in court. Essentially, you can only beg for mercy, plead guilty, or plead insanity.
But every time the Canadians put Z¸ndel on trial, they put no restrictions on his defense. He was allowed to plead “not guilty because I’m right.” And so, throughout the course of his trials his legal team was allowed to grill Holocaust historians, survivors, and “experts” of all kinds.
This is one of those moments in which I fear that I lack the language skills to properly express the completely self-defeating lunacy of what the Canadians did. Their desire was to silence Holocaust revisionism. To do that, they gave Z¸ndel the opportunity to do something that no one else had ever had - the ability to grill historians under penalty of perjury. (Ö)
In its attempt to silence revisionism, the Canadian government ended up putting it on the fÖing map. Z¸ndel and his exceptionally able and well-funded legal team took the Canadian blunder and ran with it. Thanks to the Canadians, it wasn’t Zundel on trial, but the Holocaust. (Ö) The story was that the respected experts and the survivors had to make humiliating admissions under oath.
The result of all this tumult was that Holocaust revisionism became “a thing.” In its desire to destroy revisionism, the damn Canucks had put it on the map, with daily breathless headlines in every Canadian paper, carried by wire services around the world. And I thought that as long as revisionism was going to be “a thing”, with or without my participation, the “thing” could probably benefit from having a guy with no ideological fanaticism enter the field to sort the wheat from the chaff and take the wheat out of the hands of people like Zundel.
My reaction? Why, that sneaky little twerp! Image the chutzpah! And marvel at the ease with which a Jewish switcheroo is done. David had a private plan that did not match the image he so carefully projected, and he proceeded to put it to use. He put on his yarmulke and played the Jewish bonus to the hilt, allowing him enormous media leeway not open to serious revisionist scholars.
And he is right in saying that Ernst was not a bean-counting revisionist in the conventional footnoting sense. His role was that of what he himself has called a “radical revisionist” - a street-smart global populist for truth in history, arranging dozens of lectures for David, where David enlightened the masses on the discrepancies of the conventional Holocaust tale, as often as not to thundering audience applause.
David seemed utterly credible then. He wrote sharp, imaginative letters, trouncing the media, pleading with dignitaries on behalf of the revisionist cause. David and Ernst gave joint media interviews. David and Ernst toured the ruins of Auschwitz, together. And, much to his amazement and surprise, the Jewish wunderkind called David Cole became a media star, invited to popular talk shows like 48 Hours, Montel Williams, Morton Downey Jr., and Phil Donahue, to name but a few out of many.
It must have been in 1994, at my very first revisionist convention put on by the Institute for Historical Review where David was one of the speakers, an opportunity for me to observe him first-hand. I came to this scene without the slightest prejudice. I knew of Ernst’s fondness for David, and I was prepared to be duly impressed.
As part of his lecture, which was quite good, David was showing a network media clip - it might have been The Phil Donahue Show - where either the host or the audience took umbrage at Ernst and David touring the Auschwitz in tandem, and where David defends himself thusly:
“Zundel visited Auschwitz. I visited Auschwitz. We met. What was I to do - kick him in the balls?”
And David turned to Ernst, who sat in the back of the room, put on a rueful smile, and said, “Ernst, I’m sorryÖ” and Ernst replied in his gentle, grandfatherly way: “It’s okay, David. It’s okay.”
That’s not how I felt. I felt nothing but rage at this two-faced little snit shamelessly playing both sides to reap favors from opposite camps. At the break, I sat outside by myself in the hall on a small hotel settee, and David spotted me, plopped himself right next to me and looked at me expectantly. I don’t know if he knew who I was, but by his facial expression I could tell he wanted me to say something to him - maybe a compliment for that off-color comment at his lecture?
When it comes to smutty language, I am the biggest prude on earth, and no apologies. I felt such an instinctive revulsion at his mendacious comment that I could not bring myself to say a single word. Side by side, we sat there for maybe ten minutes, in silence.
I asked Ernst later why he had been so calm with the slick liar on the stage, and Ernst said in his easy-going way: “What do you expect? He is of the tribe. He could not help himself.”
I know a useful fable to illustrate the above - and what followed. A frog and a scorpion sit by a river, trying to get to the other side. The scorpion says to the frog:
“You know I don’t know how to swim. Permit me to ride on your back?”
The frog looks at the scorpion and says: “No way. Why would I do that? You’d only sting me, and both of us would drown.”
“Why would I do a foolish thing like that?” argues the scorpion. “That would not be in my interest.”
That argument makes perfect sense to the frog. “Ok,” he says. “Hop up!”
Predictably, as they both reach the middle of the wildly raging river, the scorpion readies his stinger and rams it into the spine of the frog.
“Why did you do a foolish thing like hat?” screams the frog, struggling against the treacherous current, in vain attempting to rid himself of the scorpion.
Whereof the scorpion replies, as both drown in the currents: “I could not help myself.”
There’s great wisdom in folklore as cultural shorthand, explaining life’s absurdities that cause so much destruction and death. The autobiographical story that David tells in this book is like a mirror image of the fable.
There was great tolerance for David Cole in our ranks in the beginning. In those early Internet years, he was accepted as “one of us” who went along for a dangerous ride because, around us, political censorship was tightening its net - until, to everyone’s surprise and seemingly out of the blue, David recanted his entire involvement in an Open Letter to the JDL, sniveling and groveling, calling himself a “self-hating Jew”, pleading for mercy and whining that he was guilty of the ultimate disgrace - disloyalty to Jews.
We were shocked, naturally, but not really surprised. All of us knew that this letter must have been written with Irv Rubin’s pistol on Cole’s head - who would not have caved in and sobbingly recanted, in his place? We did not hold it against him, knowing what Irv Rubin’s beefy hoodlums might have threatened to do to frighten him out of his wits. We were just grateful for the sterling revisionist work he had done up to then - and no one, to my knowledge, held any serious grudges.
You can still watch the David Cole clips of those years on YouTube - how genuinely sincere they sound. I put many of them there myself on my channel. Millions have watched them by now. Those clips have bought us more good will for our Cause than any of the dry, scholarly papers the IHR and more scholarly inclined revisionists put out.
Murky gossip insisted that David was now on the run, hiding out from an avenging female. We did not know that he had changed his name to David Stein. As far as we knew, he existed underground somewhere for several years, allegedly working for a smutty sitcom television show called Seinfeld, not the kind of program on which we would have wasted our time. There was even some loose talk that he was churning out pro-Holocaust films for ADL’s Abe Foxman. Tsk. Tsk.
David Cole appeared briefly at a beach party in the LA area, probably in 2002. Ernst and I had been married by then, and we attended this private barbeque party together. To everyone’s surprise and genuine delight, there, all of a sudden, was David - looking relaxed and content, as slim and as wiry as ever, an overweight mulatto girl at his side. A lady of the night? She did look coarse and cheap, long purple fingernails and all, but nobody raised an eyebrow. After all, weren’t revisionist bending over backwards, over and over again, avoiding the label of “racist”? That was - still is - the generally expected attitude.
Throughout the pages of Republican Party Animal, David slyly plants insinuations that practically all revisionists on earth are closet ideologues if not boot-stomping Nazis. Not true. On race, revisionists are neutral and accommodating to a fault.
Another little sidebar here that Ernst and I still savor.
It happened at another IHR convention where the famed Jewish investigative journalist, John Sack, was one of the main speakers. There, at breakfast, Sack, Ernst and I were sharing a table, finishing our scrambled eggs, when Anita Wilson, a black revisionist aficionado, well-known and heartily accepted by us all, sashayed up to our table in a revealing summer dress, bent over Ernst, spilled one of her bare breasts right over his nose, and gave that “Nazi Z¸ndel” a slobbering kiss smack on the lips. I said to Ernst, “ Ö there goes your reputation as a fire breathing racist” and everybody laughed. Anita plucked herself right next to Ernst, put both elbows on the table and leaned aggressively into John Sack: “Now, John, will you explain something to me? Why are you Jews always in everyone’s face?! Why don’t you Jews get a life?!” A scene right for the movies.
Cole opens one of his chapters with the following:
“There are two principles I live by when I decide I want to accomplish something successfully. The first principle is, “just do the fÖing work.” (Ö) The other principle by which I live is the old saw that “in the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is king.” I find it best to work in fields where I’m surrounded by ninety percent idiots, because I can accomplish more that way.
The field of Holocaust history, as I found it in 1990, and politics, as I found it in 2008, were perfect for me. My one eye beat most of the tin-cup-holding blindies who populated those fields.
I first realized that I was perfectly cut out for the Holocaust revisionism field when I discovered the obvious manhole in the floor of the supposed gas chamber at the Auschwitz main camp. The manhole was typical of an underground or semi-underground air raid shelter. If a cave-in occurred, if the doors were blocked, the manhole was an escape hatch to allow the soldiers in the shelter to make it to safety. I was also the first person to note that the “gas chamber” locks were from the inside, not the outside. Ever since Poland had freed itself from the Soviet yoke, revisionists and non-revisionists had gone there to study the campsite. And no one had ever seen the manhole, or the door lock, as obvious as they were. No one.
I was where I belonged. A one-eyed king.
If you associated with revisionists, you would never be accepted into the “mainstream” camp. But, frankly, there was no choice for an honest researcher but to associate with revisionists. They’d been the ones collecting evidence during the Z¸ndel trials, only a portion of which was actually used. I could read the “mainstream” views in a hundred books. I needed to mix with the revisionists and deniers in order to win their trust. Because they were the ones with vital pieces of evidence.
I earned Zundel’s trust because I was willing to be seen with him publicly. To this day, there are those who say, “but did you have to appear with Z¸ndel in public?” Yeah, I did. I never said anything in support of his views, but I supported his right to be free from prosecution for simply writing a book, and I still do. On that subject, I’d stand with him again today.
Once the revisionists came to trust me, I could start to go to work. It wouldn’t be long before I’d clash with them. But as I said at the beginning of this chapter, I was now able to “just do the fÖing work.”
By the fall of 2004, memories of [a romantic relationship gone sour] had faded, and I decided it was time to go back to L.A. and start working again. El Segundo meant no longer having access to the trains and subways, which meant less self-sufficiency, as my well-known aversion to driving had become much stronger now that I drank. Fortunately, fate was more than willing to step in with a solution.
At just about that time, political disaster had caught up with the Zundels. I will skip the political kidnapping tale since it is known to my readers and freely dispersed and discussed on the Net. By the fall of 2004, after Ernst was dragged in chains to Canada for an alleged “visa overstay”, he had already spent a horrid winter in isolation in an ice-cold cell in the Toronto West Detention Center, a notoriously brutal prison. Throughout the two years Ernst was forced trying to survive in solitary confinement in Toronto, I had every reason to fear that he was in danger of being seriously hurt, maybe even poisoned or brutally killed in his sleep. I was left fending for myself in Tennessee, likewise subjected to a lot of verbal abuse from invisible callers and anonymous Internet writers. I was out of my wits with fear for Ernst’s safety if not his very life. Repeatedly I would get nasty updates about how innovatively the prison guards were trying to break Ernst’s spirit - spitting in his food and maybe even worse, never turning off his light, forbidding him to talk to other inmates, refusing him the telephone for days at a time, strip-searching him hundreds of times, sometimes even after a telephone call to me, stealing his mail, once even calling me to tell me “Sorry to have to tell you, but your husband has died at 11 o’clock in the morningÖ” For a few minutes, I actually believed it - I was that terrorized. During one telephone call, always monitored, Ernst told me quietly, referring to this non-stop harassment and abuse: “Ö you don’t know the half of itÖ” and I don’t know to this day what he meant. I can guess.
I read in an AP wire release that Israel was planning to ask for Ernst’s extradition - and I knew all too well what that meant. I tried to talk to my congressman, Bill Jenkins, who refused to see me until I threatened a hunger strike in front of his door. I tried to engage Senator Corker whose staff was insulting and rude and would not give me the time of the day. Not one to give up, I flew Bruce Leichty, our US immigration attorney, to Washington to force Corker to familiarize himself with our case - no doing. Despite thousands of dollars spent for this trip, Bruce and I were not allowed inside the senator’s office and had to talk to an underling in the cafeteria. I tried to ambush the Canadian Consul General in Washington, who likewise did not let me come into his office but sat in the lobby with icy eyes and twitching cheeks, sweat forming on his forehead, as I relayed my woes. He listened, did not say a single word, gave me his card and vanished. To this very day, never a follow-up from any dignitary or representative I approached - for me, it was a time beyond frustration and despair.
Supporters who will read the following might object that I was far too gullible and should have been wise to a Jew who had, for all intents and purposes, abandoned the revisionist cause and was now doing pro-traditional version Holocaust films. It is true I am, in general, a trusting individual. In truth, I never had any doubts to suspect that David might be deceptive and even go so far as to exploiting our desperate situation for his ends.
When Bradley Smith, an old-time revisionist and good buddy, called me and said that plans were being laid in Hollywood, where David Cole had important connections, to get some serious outreach going with a professional documentary about Ernst’s plight, it seemed like a godsend from heaven.
Here David tells his side of the story, introducing his readers to one of his friends:
“I need a car.” Fat Frank was always very direct. I liked that about him. “My car just got booted and impounded, and it’s too much of a junket to excuse what it would cost to get it back. I need a new one.”
With Frank, like me, it was always about playing an angle. Frank again showed his talent for being direct. “If you get me a car, I’ll drive you everywhere you ever need to be. It will be like having a personal chauffer for life.”
Well, I’m not about to pass that up. But I’m also not about to spend a dime of my own money on a guy like Fat Frank. He was a scavenger, still living the life of an illegal alien with no Social Security number who grew up in Vegas learning to get by through begging, borrowing, and stealing. I liked him a lot, but I’d never turn my back on him.
But he had a very sincere desire to make films. He had a good eye for directing, and had already done several films that sold like hotcakes in the rapidly growing bilingual market. And me? What else am I going to do but make films? I was intrigued by the idea of finally churning out a few things that had absolutely nothing to do with the Holocaust. No more “safe” Holocaust films, no more revisionist Holocaust films. It was time to move on and leave the Holocaust behind.
But fate said, “not so fast there, aÖhole!” Because truth be told, if I wanted to get Fat Frank a car without spending my own dough, it was time to revisit the revisionist trough.
There was and is no “revisionist trough.” Unlike our political opponents, we have no sponsors with deep pockets. Over the decades, the revisionist outreach has been held afloat with the help of thousands of little old ladies in running shoes and well-meaning old gentlemen with heart of pure gold and overflowing affection for Ernst’s bitter struggle against the greatest of all odds. These folks have chipped in, again and again - and do to this day. There have been occasional bequests to help revisionists out of tight spots and push the revisionist struggle forward, such as the Leuchter Expedition during the Great Holocaust Trial ‘88, but in general the revisionist outreach world-wide has been financed by nickels and dimes. For decades! With tireless persistence!
David explains this scenario:
I’d always stayed in touch with revisionist Bradley Smith, even during my days in exile in El Segundo. I like Bradley. I’ve known him since 1989. I’ll know him until the day one of us dies. We don’t agree on everything, but he’s a lifelong friend. And now here I came, because Fat Frank needed a car.
Bradley informed me that several prominent revisionists - Germar Rudolf, David Irving, and Ernst Z¸ndel (Ö) were facing lengthy prison sentences for their “crime” of writing about history. Z¸ndel was already in a hellish situation. He had beaten the Canadian government every time it tried to prosecute him, but in 2001 he’d had enough, and retired to the hills of Pigeon Forge, Tennessee. He and his wife Ingrid had a house there, and Z¸ndel pretty much limited his duties to tending to his website. Naturally, the Canadian government and its national intelligence agency, CSIS, couldn’t let a miscreant like Z¸ndel get away. Post 9/11, they had new powers to go “full fascist” on him (finally). They slapped what’s known as a “security certificate” on Z¸ndel, which is Canadian-ese for “now we can do whatever the f..k we want to you with no charge or trial.” The U.S. promptly shipped him back to Toronto, and Z¸ndel was stuffed into a six by ten foot cell, 24 hours a day, the lights always on, watched constantly by guards - with no trial, no charges, no sentence.
At the same time, revisionist Germar Rudolf, living in Chicago and married to an American woman with whom he’d fathered a child, was facing deportation to Germany. Indeed, he was the perfect German, so damn anal about paperwork. He’d paid for the best immigration lawyers to make sure everything he did was within the law. But the Germans, anxious to imprison an author in order to prove they’re no longer the type of fascists who imprison authors, were unhappy. They wanted Rudolf back.
Meanwhile, arrogant hot-head historian David Irving was facing trial in Austria for being a revisionist. I was less interested in his case. He goes looking for trouble. Zundel and Rudolf, like me, had tried to flee from it. I sympathized with them a bit more. (Ö)
But back to Fat Frank and his car. I went to Bradley to see if he could round up some money for a documentary publicizing the Rudolf and Z¸ndel cases. I would work on the film anonymously, and Frank could help me edit. Bradley came through with a nice little wad of cash from his backers. Frank got his car. And I got yet another wonderful bit of unappreciated irony - I was coming to the aid of two legal immigrants (Z¸ndel and Rudolf) in order to buy a car for an illegal immigrant.
I, too, had known Bradley for years. When Bradley told me of the plan to make a documentary to highlight Ernst’s illegal arrest and brutal treatment, I was of course all ears. But was there a screenplay, I wanted to know. Was there at least an outline? If we made a film, where would it play? What media would give us the time of the day?
There are a few things you must know about Bradley. He is the world’s most enthusiastic devotee of pie-in-the-sky projects that always sound so promising - and always fizzle out. Every new strategy, he always believes, is going to put revisionism on the map once and for all, but somehow, these iron-clad ideas for an ultimate revisionist victory have a way of running through his fingers. Yet Bradley is like our perpetual Santa Claus. You cannot even call him on the carpet for his enthusiastic dreams because there are no goodies to be had. Yet nobody really expects any tangible results as long as Bradley keeps needling and needling Abe Foxman and consorts and drives them right up a tree. And because he does not have a mean bone in his body, backers always forgive him, over and over again, and manage to keep im afloat - though just barely.
So I had my doubts about Bradley. Another harebrained scheme? But when Bradley told me that David Cole, with whom he was in touch, who was now rubbing shoulders with influential folks in Hollywood and would be involved incognito, as well as a really cool Mexican producer chap he had already taken in tow, what choice did I have at that point?
I was willing to give it a shot. I said I would fly out to LA and try to meet the trio.
I was having lunch in some outdoor restaurant near Hollywood when David showed up, all radiant smiles. You have to give him that - David knows how to schmaltz and convince a desperate “war widow” at the end of her rope - which is what I had become. David has lots of charisma. He succeeded in something like five minutes to make me put all my reservations aside. I finally knew in my heart what Ernst had always told me - that there was “something special about that kid.” After all, he had known David for years and had worked with him productively for more than a decade. Why would I still harbor some doubts? I had none.
I forgot if it was then or later that I met Frank the alleged producer as well. He looked bloated and seedy, and he wore a girl’s ring in his ear. However, do you look a gift horse in the mouth? I kept my politically incorrect bias to myself about a Mexican who seemed to be on the skids. But I wanted to know, then and later: where was the script or even an outline of the film we were going to make?
There was no script. One thing at a time. A script would come later. For a start, let’s shoot some original footage. This we did, throughout several months, as outlined below.
As an intro, David had given us the grand tour of the studio where the documentary was going to be polished, and now I was really impressed. We went there after hours, and if I remember correctly, David even had the keys. The studio looked professional. David said he had lined up a topnotch editor who knew of Ernst’s plight and was ready and willing to help at no charge. Another hurdle taken before I even knew there was one.
For a start, we did some filming at a Simon Wiesenthal Theme Park, and we filmed ourselves in some private venue discussing the Zundel kidnap situation - how terribly illegal it was. Mark Weber came to that session. Not much came of that footage. Sometime later - maybe this was another trip? - we had a protest demonstration at the Canadian Consulate in Los Angeles, and Frank filmed that one also. As it turned out, that taping was useless as well.
One final attempt to get some good camera work was useful incidentally. It provided us a respectable venue to try to spark some interest in the abduction case of free speech activist Ernst Z¸ndel. Our trio had managed to get “a film crew” booked for a “freedom of speech debate” of sorts at the University of Colorado/Boulder. Such a prestigious venue would have been normally off-limit for us. But we lucked out - the program was launched and completed, despite the timing being most awkward because finals were scheduled that week. We had only some 50-60 people in the auditorium. But still, a victory of sorts. No JDL in sight. No trouble from ADL quarters. But the lighting was poor, and the sound system worse. It was essential another costly, wasted effort.
Enter the “high definition” camera tale. David again:
“Dude,” Frank said one evening,” do you think we can get even more from these revisionists? I mean, we really ought to purchase some heavy-duty equipment. Like one of these expensive HD cameras. I know just the model we need.”
Up to then, we had financed our various outreach attempts on the fly. We didn’t seem to get the project off the ground, however. There still was no script. As far as I knew, there was not a penny of cash in the documentary kitty. I knew we needed at least start-up money to push this project along, and Bradley was broke, and so was Fat Frank, from all I could tell - and I wasn’t sure about David. I gave Bradley some $300 to tide him over some credit card hump, and I gave several postdated checks to Fat Frank who was behind in his rent, as I vaguely recall, in danger of immediate eviction. Our project was about to give up the ghost. An extra fundraising effort was desperately needed.
I compiled a small special list culled from my general supporters, sending out an urgent S.O.S. To my great joy I managed to interest a long-time supporter whom Bradley, David, and I already knew, a wealthy businessman on the West Coast, who generously pledged $5,000.- for our worthy cause.
I announced to our project trio that, at the very least, there was some start-up money I could float that we could use for the high definition camera Frank desperately needed. So far, all I had was a pledge, but I was sure the money would be forthcoming. He was a very wealthy man, and the amount would be peanuts for him - but it meant a great deal of money for us.
I was waiting and waiting for that check. It didn’t come - I wondered if maybe our sponsor had forgotten? I finally gave in and said I would buy that HD camera out of my own supporter funds and lend it to the project - but I did want it back, once the project was finished. It would cost a hefty $3,500.
I don’t know to this day if that camera was actually purchased with the personal check that I sent. What I didn’t know and only found out a year or two later is that the moment Fat Frank and David had heard of the $ 5,000 pledge, they hopped in the car, drove out to visit our wealthy businessman, and pocketed that all-important check.
They didn’t tell me they had done that. It was project money, to be sure, but I was entitled to know, and I would not have sent them the check for the camera in addition, had I known. More than that, as I found out years later, our wealthy mutual friend had asked David just how much it would take to really get down to business and finish that film, and David told him - and I kid you not - they could finish the film for $ 8,000, easy-pie! Don’t laugh. It shows the amateurishness of this bedeviled project. But our mutual wealthy friend sat down and wrote them the check for the requested amounts, and now the trio had loot in their pockets.
I was in Tennessee. They were in California. I was still waiting for the pledge to come through, and I was anxious to nail down the team on just where this project was going - if anywhere at all. I invited those three musketeers to come to Tennessee to sit down with me and map out some talking points and agree on a tentative timeline and budget. Would they do that? We needed a blueprint on paper.
“I sent Bradley and Frank to Pigeon Forge to deal with Ingrid Zundel directly,” writes David. Before their trip, I told Bradley. “never, NEVER let Frank be alone with Ingrid. He WILL try to make a separate deal. He WILL try to get money for himself. Never let him out of your sight.”
“Will do, kid,” Bradley answered. “You can count on me.” He forgot those instructions the moment he left my house.”
Actually, Bradley didn’t tell me to watch out for Fat Frank’s shenanigans. What he did tell me was that David had instructed him “not to mention money” to me under any circumstances - which I thought was very odd. What money? I didn’t know he had already bagged the pledge I had negotiated. It shows you how trusting I was.
I received a call saying that David couldn’t make it for some reason to our get-together in Tennessee, but Bradley and Frank would be there. If my memory serves me right, those two stayed for a couple of days, and we did some additional filming around my home and in my office. In one respect, that visit was useful I finally found out how our documentary was going to be “structured”, content-wise. It was to be a tit-for-tat format between revisionist claims of Holocaust hokum on one side and sterling ADL rebuttals on the other. David had ADL connections, and the ADL slant was going to be our ticket into mass distribution. That was the nifty plan.
At that point, I dug in my heels, and things got very testy between me and the trio. My argument was that I was not going to use supporter money to help finance a platform for the ADL just so they could spew their slime, with us underwriting the so-called “debate. They had never given us the courtesy of a neutral debate venue - so why should we? I said if this was the plan, they should just count me out.
This disagreement stretched over several months and in the end resulted in a rancorous parting, with letters flying back and forth about the costly camera I wanted back and didn’t get - and other grievances we all had managed to store up about each other and this miserably failed attempt to help Ernst get out of his predicament. I have a whole file folder of copies of those letters.
My blood still boils when I think of it all.
And now, believe it or not, here is David, giving his version for our elucidation in light of all of the above that he himself has documented.
Ingrid Zundel did indeed pledge a fat wad of money to my endeavors. And Frank indeed made a separate deal, pledging to use his Mexicanness to help spread revisionism in the (rolling “L”) Latino community, and pledging to use his film directorness to create a “revisionist film festival” in Pigeon Forge. Both promises were, of course, pure bullshit, and discarded the moment he cashed the checks. But with the money I got, I bought all the fancy equipment Frank told me to get. We were now rather well-stocked.
We made a nice, tight little film about Zundel and Rudolf. (Ö) The final film was good. So good, in fact, that not only Bradley, but Zundel’s wife offered us more money.
That is a brazen, bald-faced lie! I never approved of the film. In fact, I never even saw that film until just a few weeks ago - now more than ten years later!
Some time ago, when I read on the Net that it had played in Mexico, I asked Bradley to send me a copy, and he told me that it wasn’t quite ready for distribution yet. It is called El Gran Tabu - and I assume it is now on the Net. A friend finally sent me a copy. I wouldn’t call it good. I wouldn’t even call it average. You go and see for yourself and let me know what you think. But I am putting this in black as firmly as I can that I never pledged any “fat wad of money” to David to show my “gratitude.” In fact, I never EVER gave David one little red penny directly.
What else can I say? I say this book needs to be read. I have focused on the revisionist part - but that is only one-fourth of the story. The quip of the bikini comes to mind: What it reveals is interesting, but what it conceals is vital! Its value lies at a deeper level. Most of the book deals with what the title suggests - the last 5 years of David’s life so far and the “parties” he organized for people he names by name that will shock you, as will the color photos in the center of the book. I won’t describe them for you. The larger narrative in this book is of no particular interest to us but will be of interest to the Republican hotshots he gathered around himself and the sleazy atmosphere at these parties he hints at. My guess is there will be a lawsuit or two from those quarters.
Before I even read this book, two of our attorneys called me, telling me of its mendacious nature but stating, independently, that the book is an important document of our era, regardless. I agree. I even recommend it for those who can think deep and try to uncover the root of what plagues us. Not in the sense that this account is generally truthful, or candid, or sincere. It is dripping with smut, half-truths and outright lies that leave you speechless for its chutzpah, but if you can put up with that, it has flashes of insight worth pondering for our own good.
In conclusion, I’d like to quote one of my all-time favorite titles, a book I read many years ago and reread several times because it is to beautifully wise. It is a classic, called You Gentiles by Maurice Samuel, a prominent Jew who wrote it in the 1920s.
We are not free to choose and to reject, to play, to construct, to refine. We are a dedicated and enslaved people, predestined to an unchangeable relationship. Freedom at large was not and is not a Jewish ideal. (Ö) Freedom to do what? (Ö)
A century of partial tolerance gave us Jews access to your world. In that period the great attempt was made, by advance guards of reconciliation, to bring our two worlds together. It was a century of failure. (Ö)
We Jews, we, the destroyers, will remain the destroyers forever. Nothing that you will do will meet our needs and demands. (Ö) Beyond all temporary alliances with this or that faction lies the ultimate split in nature and destiny, the enmity between the Game and God. But those of us who fail to understand that truth will always be found in alliance between your rebellious factions, until disillusionment comes.
I apologize for this article’s length - but it is an important account from our side for you to read in its entirety. Best wishes, and let us not slacken. Not ever!
Crowdfunding for the Expats and Politically Incorrect Speech
Earth people -- Get off your knees!
By Ingrid Rimland Zundel, Ed.D.
In my previous incarnation, I used to wear a lot of hats. Past 9/11, I have matured politically. Recently, I have decided on a brand new hat that I have never worn before: Executive Producer of an ambitious independent motion picture called THE EXPATS:
MAIN CHARACTER: A hopelessly politically incorrect terrestrial Free Speech Activist -
SUPPORTING CAST: Mysterious UFOs -
VILLAINS: Wild-eyed censorship crusaders, in hot pursuit.
For many years I had a special dream I simply could not shake. It was like a kaleidoscope, but it never varied in content and substance. I dreamed that one day I would produce an innovative film that would become the blueprint for a brand new genre - the serious politically relevant motion picture of our times.
That day is almost here. Hereís why. Thereís too much German-bashing - or worse yet, Hitler-bashing - out there in cyberspace as well as globally in mainstream media. Hitler is dead and gone - he isnít coming back unless he has found the Fountain of Youth among the galaxies, commanding fleets of flying saucers, to even up a score. Gone also is the generation who used to cheer him on.
To the perennial censors, though, it doesnít seem to matter ó you would think that World War II ended last week. Whole generation-bashing has now become the rage, and by extension Zundel-bashing. A shameful pastime for folks who ought to know better. It never seems to end.
Itís also lucrative for those who swing the cudgel. I hate it with a passion. I want intelligent people to weigh both sides after having been exposed to both sides in fair and neutral ways.
The film I envision will be both poignant and funny. Both Ernst and I have been on the receiving end of unrelenting Zundel-Bashing, and it has got to stop. I know exactly how. If I can hold a mirror up to an intelligent audience and make that audience laugh at themselves for having been so brainwashed, my war is already half-won. The other half will follow with deeper understanding about what really happened more than three generations ago.
My prime duty will be to secure the funds for this film. My second task will be to surround myself with a principled crew of men and women of impeccable artistic instincts; determination in the face of obstacles; and most important, sound character. I intend to produce a politically relevant film for our troubled times that entertains and does not offend while adding clarity, so as to warm the heart.So, first things first. Can I raise the funds we need? Well, I believe I can. I have raised money for worthy projects before - among others for a prestigious California media organization, the “Hollywood Annual Angel Award,” founded by then Women in Media President Mary Dorr and her famous playwright husband, Gordon Gordon, author of the Walt Disney comedy film, That Darn Cat.
I learned a lot from the Gordons, both of whom have since passed on. We were close friends in the 1980s, and through them I met some movie stars, including Rhonda Fleming who endorsed one of my books, Sally Struthers of All in the Family and Lana Wood of Peyton Place, sister of Natalie Wood. In those young years, we talked about movies a lot.
Second, almost two decades ago, I raised the funds to fight off the censors that hated my website, known as the Zundelsite. In early 1996, my website came under global “Denial of Service” attack - I believe the first such attack ever in nascent cyberspace.
For forty hours straight, anonymous so-called DoS emails bombarded my service provider, for a total of 28 million hits! It temporarily crippled my server, but the attackers didnít succeed; the Zundelsite is still on the air, albeit now as an revisionist archive repository only.
That was before I met and married Ernst Zundel, a controversial Free Speech activist, equally loved and reviled, depending on who does the loving or hating. When it comes to political demonization, always consider the source!
I have since moved on, and my current active website is called Soaring Eagles Studios and Gallery, focusing on less controversial cultural matters.
Pertaining to THE EXPAT project, very briefly:
I have produced and/or edited some 20 documentaries in-house, all dealing with the persecution and prosecution of expressions of forbidden Free Speech, and I have won an international award for one of them, “Off Your Knees, Germany!” at the Myrtle Beach International Film Festival. That is the length and breadth of my film-making record.
I am an award-winning writer and journalist with 5 books - four of them historical novels to my credit, along with a substantial body of columns, articles, and personality profiles of famous folks I used to rub elbows with when I was younger than I am today and still needed to do things for my ego. Not any more. However, it may help to nudge my readersí participation and sponsorship a bit if I tell you that my first novel won the California Literature Medal Award for 1977, and Alex Haley spoke at the event hosted by San Franciscoís most prestigious private club, known as the California Commonwealth Club.
I mention this to let you know I understand a storyís theme, plot, pivotal points, fast-paced progression and, finally denouement, along with believable characters and equally believable villains. I know how to spin a convincing yarn and have done it many a time when I made the rounds as a convention keynoter, addressing audiences as large as 6,000.
So, yes, I also wrote THE EXPATS - a screenplay adaptation of the lifetime struggle of my husband and life partner, Ernst Zundel, who tried to bring history in accord with the facts and paid dearly for his youthful idealism. Still does, more than four decades later.
However, this film is not about Ernst primarily. His life and activism merely provide the backdrop for a story that needs to be told to show the harm that comes to individuals, families, societies, and even continents with relentless, systematic political indoctrination that demonizes untold innocents and provides an undeserved halo for others.
I should also mention that ever since that seminal decision to become a Zundelist, I have given up my own admittedly marginal celebrity status as an award-winning novelist and inspirational keynoter, which was how I then made a living.
Instead, I knelt into revisionist activist work as a full-time volunteer. For more than 15 years, I never took a salary. I simply donated my time and professional skills to help neutralize the global censorship goons that are ever more plaguing our planet.My previous fundraising effort was a protracted fundraising campaign via letter, lasting more than ten years in exchange for sketches my politically incorrect husband produced in six prisons in three countries on two continents during the seven years he was jailed for having misspoken himself to the displeasure of the ruling mandarins.
I single-handedly raised the funds for his legal defense, which helped me to pay our half-dozen-plus lawyers - and you know that attorneys for political dissidents do not come cheap!
Nor does the general struggle for Freedom of Speech, believe me! Ask Ernst. Ask Edward Snowden and others. It cannot be had at Bargain Basement prices. If you fight for Free Speech, win or lose, you will pay!
THE EXPATS - a film that will deal with the fallout of fighting the censors attacking Free Speech - will cost us a bit. Throughout the rest of this year, I will do some serious fundraising again for this film I intend to produce about the harm that comes with vicious political demonization.
I have been told that the kind of movie I have in mind, if Hollywood-produced, would cost some hefty $200 million. I estimate my independent movie, if managed frugally by cutting out the middlemen and every fringe expense, would cost way less than 1% of the above amount. A conservative estimate, a producer friend told me, would call for a budget of $2 million dollars.
Thatís still a lot of money, much more than you and I have ever had.
However, in Ernstís lifetime of fighting for Freedom of Speech, he has paid out far more than just two million - all raised from a small handful of determined private sponsorship. There were principled people out there in the world who dug in their heels and stayed put - so you and I can speak our minds - and, hopefully, the day will come when we can send the censors packing.
Here is my argument. We have the Internet. Globally, there are some 200 million Germans and German-descendants, the German “Expats” to be starring in my film-to-be, not even counting scores of other European “Expats” who will identify with plot and theme, and who will recognize the villains. If only a small number of those “other” Europeans decide that my project merits support, they will help sponsor it to the extent they can.
I also need to state as firmly as I can for the record that this is my project alone.
Ernst is not involved in a practical way since he canít be involved as long as he is stuck in Europe, thanks to the tireless censorship games his ever more frustrated enemies still like to play.
I believe that my dream is eminently do-able if enough people are curious and willing and help me spread the word. Please help me spread the word among friends and in social media - and, if the Spirit moves you, donít miss the “Donate” button, top right on my homepage,
Besides the world-wide political minority I choose to call “The Expats,” there is another easily “identifiable minority group” - the millions of UFO Stargazers who feel besieged by corporate censorship as well. They want full “UFO Disclosure” in the worst way possible and clamor for their voices to be heard.
There is a funny sub-plot in the EXPATS movie script about how UFOs play into the overall and often desperate strategies the censors like to employ. My Stargazer crowd that wants to know whoís who and whatís what will be willing to fight for “Disclosure” and ask repeatedly to let the sun shine on the UFO enigma, as folklore has called it for decades.
I believe with all my heart that a good number of them would put their shoulder to the wheel supporting a complex, thought-provoking movie about their favorite hobby. As part of my fund-raising strategies, they shall be seriously courted as well.
I am known as an eternal optimist and believe that what oneís heart can perceive, oneís will can achieve. My heart perceives a direct way in reaching millions of people by using modern media not ever possible before to help us fight the censorship multitudes who have targeted your and my spirit.
What we need at this point in order to proceed is a committed professional crew. We will soon start our search for a Producer and Director. So as to lay out our strategies to produce and market THE EXPATS, we hope for our sponsorsí input along any point of this artistic journey. Please do not hesitate to share your ideas and suggestions.
Logistically, we may have to split the movie into two parts. The early post-war years that brought us Political Correctness with vicious claws that dug into our souls will have to be produced in Germany - read the first 15 minutes of the screenplay to get a feel for the dramatic opening at http://www.soaringeaglesgallery.com/screenplay-preview.html.
You will see that a besieged and decimated populace who just survived a brutal war will try to be politically correct. It hurts, and itís humiliating, but survival dictates it. Thatís only natural. Itís also crushing to oneís very own identity as people of honor and substance! All that will be part of the opening scenes.
The rest of the dramatic storyline takes place in Canada. We can film the Canadian portion right here in Tennessee where we already have most of the set and plenty equipment as well. We will need to have a great many extras - another reason why this film might be of special interest to you. You, too, could be a “Star for a Day”!
Moving right along the road for you to ponder and decide if this is a project you would want to help sponsor - here is what happens next.
Once we have a sound and committed professional crew in place and the funds to pay for interim bills, Soaring Eagles will make available a 3-day weekend, all travel, lodging and food expenses paid, for our provisional crew. This will call for organizational teamwork.
I donít expect to have to pay for our participantsí time prematurely. I want to screen out those who would “Ö do it only for the money or for professional advancement” and would have no emotional or ethical stake in the film.
I want idealistic commitment from the start from our motion picture crew who understands the deep global, maybe even cosmic, importance of THE EXPATS and will be proud in having played a part. I hope by the end of the year I will have the initial funds that I need.
This is the strategy for now. I declare whatís left of 2015 as my kick-off crowd-funding campaign. The results will be my measuring stick. It isnít as hard as you think if I can convince my Internet readers that I am a credible person who, as a rule, succeeds in her goals once she commits to her goals.
If you want to see who I am and how I have spent my life so far, go to http://www.soaringeaglesgallery.com/extended-bio.html. If you want to know what my political detractors say about me, take thee to Wikipedia.
I ask for your support and thank you in advance! Please be as generous as your own situation allows you to be.
Together, we will make history - for the sake of our kind and our world.
Holocaust Deniers of the World, Unite - Behind Ursula!
Elderly German Lady sentenced to 10 months in prison for doubting Auschwitz extermination claims
By Ingrid Rimland Zundel, Ed.D.
There is a story about Miss Lillian Carter that I have always cherished.
One merry morning, Miss Lillian was sitting on her front porch in Georgia, serenely sunning herself, when a brave passerby strolled by. He paused. He saw an opportunity. He sidled closer.
He pursed his lips and asked with cheeky confidence: “Miss Lillian, may I kiss you?î
Miss Lillian said: “Hell, NO!î
See how easy it is to send a jokester packing who has the gall to trespass on your dignity?
Miss Ursula, 87, said in effect, “Hell, NO!î to Holocaustianity when she was asked three years ago in a television interview, broadcast all over Germany, to pay lip service to the globally-promoted asymmetric weapon of psychological intimidation. She wouldn’t say what she was expected to say and do what she was expected to do - namely grovel on her belly before an historical falsehood.
Miss Ursula was careful but outspoken. She didn’t speak as bluntly as Miss Lillian did, aware that in the Vaterland you can’t offend the Ruling Mandarins by challenging the Holocaust head-on.
In Germany, you go to prison for a dozen years if you raise your arm in a politically incorrect angle - as the brilliant attorney, Horst Mahler, did who netted himself a life sentence. Or if you didn’t say what you should have said, as happened to the famed politologist, Udo Wallendy. Or even if you stick a mustache on a snowman in your front yard, as happened to a fellow whose name I can’t recall. On fear of life and limb you don’t!
Don’t you dare ask “Did Six Million Really Die?î as my intrepid husband did some forty years ago (!) while still living in a country where questioning that dogma was legal. Revenge will dog your heels.
Four decades later, you get kidnapped, dragged through six prisons in three countries on two continents; you get charged, convicted and sentenced to maximum years - and for the rest of your life you are a “criminal of moral turpitude,î forbidden to ever set foot in America again! If you dare challenge the forbidden dogma, you are so vile, as Judge Meinerzhagen put it, while sentencing Ernst to five years that “ Ö even a bird will refuse to fly over your grave!î Time-tested Old-Testament hatred!
Few are the ones who have the fortitude to tell the Dreadful Few, as my Veterans Today colleague, Jonas Alexis, has called them: “To here, and not an inch beyond.î A fitting name - “the Dreadful Few.î They are plain dreadful, and they are now in the minority. They “dreadî - and rightly so - that the jig is soon going to be up!
Miss Ursula, at 87 as youthful and as cultured as they come, refused to crawl on her belly. After three generations of wall-to-wall brainwashing, most people will crawl on their bellies. Not she. Not Ursula. Protected by her age and impeccable grooming and manners, she sauntered in where angels fear to tread.
She gave a lengthy interview on Panorama, a famous German television magazine, equivalent to America’s Sixty Minutes. She chose the oblique approach. Miss Ursula dreamed up a jiu jitso.
She asked in a sweet voice: “If Six Million didn’t die in Auschwitz - as has been since sufficiently admitted and even documented by Germany’s high-level government sources - then where exactly did six million die? There must be a place. You can’t claim a murder without having a place where it happened.î
Prior to her interview on Panorama, Miss Ursula had fortified herself by means of sterling revisionist research. I will not list it here. You can check up on it yourself. The entire Panorama interview can be downloaded from the Net - in German, with English subtitles. It’s worth your time to watch it.
This Panorama interview is verily a feast for Free Speech advocates, but it’s a bit lengthy, and if you are like me, you may not like to read subtitles.
For your convenience, I have reduced a recent follow-up interview Miss Ursula gave to a British socialite, Lady Michele Renouf, a documentary producer who posts at www.telingfilms.com. It’s only five minutes, and enjoy watching Miss Ursula’s quaint, yet steely approach.
I think that many of you German expats out there, strewn hither and yon after the end of Hitler’s Third Reich, will appreciate Miss Ursula’s take. I believe you will marvel at the civic courage expressed with class and dignity in a land under the cudgel of an obnoxious German censorship monstrosity called Paragraph 130, known colloquially as “Ödefaming the the memory of the dead!î In simplest words, the widely believed version of Auschwitz has been legally declared to be “obviousî - Offenkundigkeit in German parlance - and heaven help you if you disagree.
It took three years, but as expected, that hideous Commie Paragraph caught up at long last with Miss Ursula. There was understandable reluctance to try to put that friendly but principled octogenarian behind bars- but still, it finally happened.
Elderly German Lady sentenced to 10 months in prison for doubting Auschwitz extermination claims
by Michael Hoffman
Hamburg District Court, Nov. 11, 2015 ó 87-year-old Ursula Haverbeck has been sentenced to imprisonment in Germany for doubting that people were “exterminatedî by “gassingî in the Nazi concentration camp in Auschwitz.
The defendant, in good spirits, reiterated her doubts in the courtroom. She arrived without a lawyer, and defended herself. Some fifty of her supporters crowded the courtroom and the hall outside.
She was accused of giving an interview to the German magazine Panorama in which she stated that Auschwitz was not an extermination camp but a labor camp. The mass murder of Jews had not taken place, she said.
Haverbeck, former chairwoman of the now-banned freethought association, “Collegium Humanum,î told the judge, “Here, I stand.î
Turning to the prosecutor she asked, “How do you as a lawyer prove the accusation that Auschwitz was an extermination camp?î Her request for a revisionist historian to give evidence that at Auschwitz no one had been gassed, was rejected by Judge Jˆnsson who stated: “It is futile to argue with people who do not accept the facts.î
The German government prosecutor maintained that the defendant’s “fanatical delusionî had not abated and that, despite her advanced age, Ursula Haverbeck must be sentenced to 10 months in prison without parole. The judge agreed and the sentence was imposed.
In 2009, Haverbeck was fined thousands of dollars in the District Court of Bad Oeynhausen, for having given offense to Charlotte Knobloch, president of the Central Council of Jews.
An Australian, Nigel Jackson, a Melbourne poet and man of letters, took Germany to task for that legal monstrosity in a recent editorial follow-up: Germany’s Misuse of the Law
The Case of Ursula Haverbeck
Michael Hoffman has just issued an important statement on this case: ëElderly German Lady sentenced to 10 months in prison for doubting Auschwitz extermination claims.’ (Ö)
It appears that in an interview with the German magazine Panorama she had stated that Auschwitz was not an extermination camp but a labour camp. The mass murder of Jews, she said, had not taken place. (Ö)
During proceedings she asked the prosecutor: ëHow do you as a lawyer prove the accusation that Auschwitz was an extermination camp?’ The prosecutor mentioned that her ëfanatical delusion’ had not abated. (In 2009 she was fined in the District Court of Bad Oeynhausen for having offended Charlotte Knobloch, president of the Central Council of Jews.)
Her request for a revisionist historian to give evidence that at Auschwitz no one had been gassed was rejected by Judge Jonsson, who stated: ëIt is futile to argue with people who do not accept the facts.’
The sentencing of this woman can justly be described as a crime against humanity. Why is this?
There are two possibilities: either she is right (or largely right) or she is wrong (or largely wrong). Let us assume that the latter is true. We then have a pitiful spectacle of an elderly person stubbornly and irrationally clinging to a mistaken view of historical events.
Shakespeare’s King Lear is the archetypal work of art examining the ramifications of such a situation. As we watch Lear rave in misery on the heath, we feel compassion for him; but that does not stop us knowing that his disaster has been mainly self-inflicted as a result of his stubborn holding of illusions earlier in the action. None of us, however, would want to punish him for the awful threats he issues during his agon.
If Ms Haverbeck is wrong (and a formidable battery of opinion, including learned opinion, around the world maintains that she is), then what damage can her statements really do to anyone? As we say, rather rudely, in Australia: ëYou can’t fart against thunder.’
If such is the situation, why on earth was she ever brought to trial? Why were her remarks not just passed over (ëPoor thing! Off her head, of course!’). Why did the prosecutor maintain that her age should not prevent her from being sentenced?
In this scenario, we plainly have an example of inhumane treatment being meted out to a too-elderly victim.
But what if she is right, or largely right? I happen to believe that she is just that, but, of course, I’m a human being and we are all prone to error. Moreover, the topic of ëthe Holocaust’ is a vast one and not easily to be assessed by the ordinary man in the street, lacking relevant specialised knowledge and not knowing the German language.
What if Ms Haverbeck is right? Then she is a martyr to the truth and the Hamburg Court proceedings were a disgrace to the German legal profession and to Germany.
She was entitled to the following behaviours in court:
The prosecutor’s refusal to justify his position means that his claim that the defendant was suffering from a ëfanatical delusion’ falls to the ground.
If Ms Haverbeck is innocent, then a much worse crime against humanity has been committed. The very dignity of mankind has been unwarrantably assailed and the ideals of Western European culture, especially the importance of intellectual freedom, wickedly scorned. Claims that her behaviour has ëgiven offence’ will look like subterfuge designed to protect an endangered interest group.
But is there such a group? Yes, there is. It is an open secret that there is and that the interest group’s power in many nations of the world is great indeed.
Shame, Germany, shame! Or, rather, shame on the German government and its legal profession!
Postscript: Of course Miss Ursula announced she will appeal. Stay tuned!
Remembering Bradley. . . R.I.P.
by Ernst Z¸ndel
Word has come that Founder of C.O.D.O.H., Bradley Smith, whom we all know, has died after a very long struggle with cancer. I have been asked to write a few words as part of a Memorial Collection.
Here is my tribute to my friend:
I remember Bradley winging his way from California to Toronto to put in an appearance as a defense witness at my 1985 Great Holocaust Trial. He arrived after many delays during one of the worst blizzards of the season via a small plane from Buffalo to New York and then on to Toronto - with only $5 - in his pocket, unable to pay for a cab.
We needed Bradley. Bradley was stranded, snowed in at the airport. The trial was in full swing. I immediately dispatched one of my bodyguards to pick him up in his pick-up truck at the airport, while the Zundel-Team, led by Doug Christie, was in court battling it out with a very poisonous Zionist Lobby with all the money in the world.
Bradley arrived, looking like Santa Claus, snowflakes-covered white hair and beard, red nose and all. His testimony was to begin the next day.
The prosecutor led the attack, aided by a judge who made no bones about where his politically correct loyalties were parked. The grilling of our defense witnesses was nasty, intense, virulent, highly insulting. But Bradley was Bradley - he was not to be dislodged from what he had come to contribute to Canadian Freedom-of-Speech-under-Siege. He dug in his heels and stayed put. He simply laughed off the darts hurled at him.
Then came the highlight for which he will be remembered forevermore in the Annals of Revisionism Pure.
The prosecutor, just like the fool he was, read him the “famous” Elie Wiesel passage of “Ö the ground heaving and geysers of blood shooting up into the air Ö” - from corpses presumed to have been buried in a mass grave weeks if not months ago! This in a 1985 courtroom in Toronto!
At that point, Bradley asked in his deep, manly voice: “Your Honour, am I expected to believe this?” In the audience, there was an audible gasp. And then our Bradley looked the judge straight in the eyes and said calmly: “Your Honour, I donít believe that guy is wrapped too tightÖ”
It was like a catharsis in that courtroom. Loud laughter! Applause! Howling! Mayhem! It took the judge ten minutes to calm the spectators down. That multi-million dollar prosecution team never recovered from the “one-two” knockout punch by Bradley Smith with his last five-dollar bill in his pocket!
What else? The next day, Bradley was totally immobilized with severe back pains. His moans were pitiful! In order to take his mind off his pain, I put a portable cassette recorder on his night table and gave him a stack of my radio interviews to listen to Ö and once again, revisionist history was on the march.
As soon as he returned to California, Bradley started his own Talk Radio Call-in program. It lasted many years and was immensely popular. He had an ideal radio voice. He literally became the bane of the Holocaust Lobby - acknowledged thusly to the very day he died. Just ask Abe Foxman what he and the ADL think of Bradley!
Bradley knew how to mine even his failures. He advertised them faithfully. It is no secret that Bradley was always operating at the edge financially, always driving old wrecks which frequently left him stranded on Californiaís busy highways.
Many a project which he started with great fanfare never made it to completion. Not that defeats deterred him in the least. He was forever confident that his next project was going to bring the decisive Revisionist Breakthrough and leave the Chosenites writhing in the dust.
One could justifiably say that “Ö never has one Revisionist warrior gone so far with so little - with his smallish mailing list, with virtually no money, no organization, no light at the end of the tunnel. For decades! Ingrid tells me he was also a superb wordsmith who, in his understated style, knew exactly how to probe for the nerve. He became the terror of every President of major US universities with his carefully crafted, tongue-in-cheek Revisionist arguments that shamed them out of their socks for licking the boots of the Lobby !
Ingrid has a bundle of endearing memories as well. This morning, as she was telling me that Bradley had passed on, she told me this story against Bradleyís express wishes.
Shortly after my arrest and deportation, she and Bradley sat together on a California bench outside a restaurant, trying to think of ways and means to get me back to the US. Suddenly Bradley started to cry - quietly, softly, as strong men might who are loath to show their emotions.
Ingrid swallowed a couple of tears of her own. Then Bradley pulled himself together, blew his tears out of his nose with a trumpeting sound, and said to Ingrid: “Donít you ever tell Ernst that I bawledÖ”
I liked Bradley Smith. He was unique. I donít know anyone who didnít like him. I will miss him. We had lots of laughs together. He will leave a void in the Revisionist community worldwide. I am proud to have known him, and to have worked with him. My condolences go to his hard-working Mexican wife of many years, who affectionately called him El Gordo.
It's Time to Put a Stop to German Bashing - Part 1
I just found verified what I have long suspected - that rampant German-bashing is a meme. According to Wikipedia,
A meme (/'mi?m/ meem) is “an idea, behavior, or style that spreads from person to person within a culture”. A meme acts as a unit for carrying cultural ideas, symbols, or practices that can be transmitted from one mind to another through writing, speech, gestures, rituals, or other imitable phenomena with a mimicked theme. Supporters of the concept regard memes as cultural analogues to genes in that they self-replicate, mutate, and respond to selective pressures.
So there you have it - German-bashing is contagious, much like a virus. It is a weaponized belief triggering behavior that targets an identifiable minority - those who lost WWII! - and, as the years go by, their offspring for good measure. It has the power to annul an ancient dictum found in the Bible and other holy books: “Thou shalt not bear false witnessÖ”
It is extremely harmful to a subset of society; It can obliterate a people’s very self. Just look at Germany for a resounding object lesson. Have you ever seen a people grovel and cringe disgracefully before the most audacious German- basher to advertise that they agree with the applied abuse and are more than willing to do penance for what the Germans did to the Jews?
Does anybody dare to ask what the Jews did, and still do, to the Germans?
I herewith register my grievance against all German-bashers, friend or foe. I say it’s vulgar, rude, low-brow, unfair, and tasteless to the max. More yet, I know from personal experience that German-bashing hurts! It has all the features of shingles - lying in wait until it can strike with the fire of hell at the sight of a politically incorrect German.
Ernst Zundel’s Story
The German dissident, Ernst Zundel, known as an “anti” German-basher extraordinaire world-wide, is someone I know well. Some forty years ago, Ernst Zundel’s youthful spirit, singled out and targeted by notorious German-bashers such as B’nai Brith of Canada, settled on a mission to put a stop to undeserved hostility against his people’s forebears.
He put on his German father’s soldiers’ boots with which he kicked the Wailing Wall three times and pledged, to paraphrase his hero, Thomas Jefferson of Monticello, that “ ÖI have sworn upon the altar of God eternal hostility against every form of tyranny over the mind of man.”
That’s Ernst. That was no pussyfooting milquetoast. That was an Aryan speaking. In front of God and Man, he registered his German people’s victimhood and said he would avenge it. And he made good on it. What Ernst has done forensically to stop the German-bashing globally is written in the annals of European history. It cannot ever again be erased.
I joined him decades later - seven years before the New York Towers fell. I did confess to him before I ever met him - and will confess it here and now - that in my youth I, too, was guilty now and then of trendy German bashing. I, too, was once a Holocaust Believer, like every other fool on earth. Do-gooder that I was, I wanted to fit in.
It was incumbent upon me, or so I thought, to do my share of bashing.
It was a reflex on my part, much like a sneeze - I simply couldn’t help it. I thought that it was only right to offer one’s apology as well as ample compensation - for all eternity. I, too, was vulnerable to trigger words that made me feel guilty for unspeakable crimes assumed to have happened to Jews - but even then, I always flinched a bit when I saw others bash my Folk to their own heart’s content.
“Bless you!”, I’d say, but only to myself. My friend, Elena, taught me that. Or else, “Ö oh, you poor dear. Poor Holocaust survivor! Obsessing all day long. Please let me pat you on the head to let you know I am politically correct.”
It’s still a bit of a moral dilemma for me to come right out and call a spade a spade. I speak of “globalists” or “neocons” or “banksters” or “internationalists” because I cannot bring myself to call a Jew a Jew. Well, don’t we all? Can you say Nazi? Sure. Why not? Can you say Jew? Please! Ohmygod! Where is the nearest mouse hole?
And this despite the fact that my own father, when I was barely five years old, was exiled to Siberia for being German in the Soviet Union, , and that I never saw him again. As history records, most Soviet kommissars were Jews.
It’s got to stop. We’re dealing with a malicious spirit virus. Just as you can’t eradicate the measles by treating one sore at a time, eradicating German-bashing cannot be done piecemeal by trouncing one Holocaust Survivor’s lie at the time to make room for historical truth.
That’s what Revisionists have done - they thought that science and reason and logic would do it. It didn’t work that way - for once a meme has infested one’s soul, not even Einstein can get a scientific handle on the topic of so-called Jewish genocide at the hand of the racially mischievous Nazis. Does that not tell you something?
The Chameleon of German-bashing
To cure systemic German-bashing has got to be a global effort, and I invite all people of good will to help eradicate the curse upon a decent people. You’re dealing with a very stubborn meme that acts like a chameleon - it’s not perceived as harmful und unfair; it makes you think you need to be politically correct and go out of your way to humor German-bashers. BS to that idea! Sheesh!
Don’t we all know in our era, monuments are built to German-bashers - who are, if you look closely enough, mere asses?
Ernst Zundel spent a lifetime demolishing that noxious meme. When he was young and daring and Canada was still an Anglo-Saxon state where you could speak your mind and not have to look over your shoulder, he was quite popular on talk show radio. In controversial talk shows such as Max Lipson’s programs, he challenged German-bashers by the thousands from coast to coast in Canada. I wish I’d known him then. He would have changed my PC weltbild in a proverbial New York minute!
As the custodian of the Zundel archives, I have unearthed several master tapes where Ernst tackled the hoary topic of Auschwitz and such in the perception of the average Canadian. Those were the halcyon years where you could speak your mind without fear of talking yourself right into prison. How often, on the air, did Ernst ask for German-bashing to be stayed - at least until forensic evidence could clear the atmosphere and settle grievances on both sides?
His counterpart, the fabled Jewish radio host, Max Lipson, was known as the Dean of Talk Radio. Max Lipson and Ernst Zundel, then still the best of friends, talked about Jews a lot, on radio and off. Both knew that Jews controlled the media, including radio, but it was not an issue then because Canada was still an Anglo-Saxon country in its social make-up and mores.
Well, that was then - and now is now. Some claim that, in the later 1960s and early ë70s when Ernst appeared on the Canadian political scene to run for political office, he was a youthful Donald Trump. That’s stretching it a bit, although I can spot similarities. Both are of German background. Both have the peasant touch. Both shoot from the lip, and both were then, as they are now, savagely victimized by folks who are amazing experts at furious German-bashing.
Unlike The Donald, though, Ernst was no billionaire when he aimed for the highest office. Talk about chutzpah to run against Pierre Trudeau! Ernst even made it to the finalists, although these days that achievement is swept under the rug. Ernst had in his election kitty a grand total of $3,750.- a small fortune in those years, created by his brushes, whereas his globalist opponent leaned on his multicult sponsors who underwrote the Trudeau election campaign to the tune of $375,000.
The rest is history.
Here as there, the end-goal of the globalists, of which Trudeau was one illustrious member, was destruction of a way of life that served good people for millennia. In Germany, the guilt cudgel “Auschwitz” has just about finished the job. The Germans now crawl on their bellies and welcome any Hottentot with open arms to partake in what their industrious forebears achieved. Here in America, that last act is playing right now.
Today, Ernst is arguably the best-known dissident in Europe, highly respected by many and equally hated by some. After having been politically kidnapped under cover of the Patriot Act, Ernst spent the next 7 years locked up in six prisons in three countries on two continents - for what? For murder? Racketeering? Money forging? Child molesting? No. For merely fighting German-bashing. The courts of Western countries are in the business of German-bashing, too.
Here’s Orwell, paraphrased: “All dead are equal, but some dead are more equal than others.” You can defame the German dead until the cows come home - but not the Jewish dead!
German Secrets by the Thousands
It's time to put a stop to German bashing - Part II
When it comes to the Third Reich and what it really stood for, vociferous objections start the moment you utter the most timid politically incorrect thought. Revulsion is instant - and savage. Consensus is solid as granite. There can be nothing but nothing redeeming about the shocking Hitler years. If you think otherwise, you put yourself in Satan’s company - and that’s where you will stay.
Worldwide, our era has been reduced to nine letters.
I often ask myself: “Why such colossal vitriol against a government, long gone and never to return, that put in place a system and a plan which, at the very least, ought to evoke some curiosity? Why turn into a bully on command and demonize a highly principled, self-disciplined, industrious people whose scientific legacy, if nothing else, is still enriching our lives?
Here is a partial answer. That vitriol against the Reich has warfare value to mankind’s enemies. It’s a control device. What’s being claimed as “facts” in media, books, and blatant anti-German movies defies the laws of science - but is there anybody who objects?
If so much righteous wrath can be unloaded by demonizing one’s opponent with lies and yet more lies, it makes wars possible. It makes huge profits possible. Most folks, who never once in their entire lives have talked to an SS-man to probe the verity of hideous claims would shudder at the thought of being in the presence of a monster.
What’s wrong with impartial research?
We have been lied to about Pearl Harbor, the murders of the Kennedy brothers, about Vince Foster, Martin Luther King, the Gulf of Tonkin Incident, Waco, 9/11, Iraqi incubator babies, the Boston Massacre, Sandy Hook, Malaysian planes that dropped out of the sky, Iran and its nuclear secrets, now Syria and ISIS - and we haven’t been lied to about the Third Reich? About her eminently reasonable strategies that sent the banksters packing - the ultimate political sin?
Mike Walsh, a gifted British essayist on the dissident Hard Right, has just released a little booklet titled REICH AND WRONG. In a promotional release Walsh asks prospective customers:
The Third Reich was in conflict for five years; the Reich lasted 13.5 years - so what happened to the missing 7.4 years of peace? During those years the Reich created an economy, infrastructure, prosperity and lifestyle no Western country, then or now, could hope to match. Why is this period taboo?
It shouldn’t be taboo. There are some lessons there worth studying to our benefit. Brave folks can learn from them.
Below, I blog a Harper’s Magazine essay, composed in 1946. (!) It makes part of my arguments for me - that there was more to Third Reich plans and actions than Schindler’s List’s atrocity yarns repeated endlessly in German-bashing orgies.
German Secrets by the Thousands
by C. Lester Walker
from “Harper’s Magazine” (October 1946)
Someone wrote to Wright (military) Field recently, saying he understood this country had got together quite a collection of enemy war secrets, that many were now on public sale, and could he, please, be sent everything on German jet engines. The Air Documents Division of the Army Air Force answered: “Sorry Ö but that would be fifty tons.” (100,000 pounds!)
Moreover, that fifty tons was just a small portion of what is today undoubtedly the biggest collection of captured enemy war secrets ever assembled. If you always thought of war secrets, as who hasn’t?, as coming in sixes and sevens, as a few items of information readily handed on to the properly interested authorities, it may interest you to learn that the war secrets in this collection run into the thousands, but the mass of documents is mountainous, and that there has never before been anything quite comparable to it.
The collection is today chiefly in three places: Wright (military) Field in Ohio, the Library of Congress, and the Department of Commerce. Wright Field is working from a documents “mother lode” of fifteen hundred tons (3,000,000 pounds!). In Washington, the Office of Technical Services (which has absorbed the Office of the Publication Board, the government agency originally set up to handle the collection) reports that tens of thousands of tons of material are involved. It is estimated that over a million separate items must be handled, and that they, very likely, contain practically all the scientific, industrial and military secrets of Nazi Germany.
One Washington official has called it “the greatest single source of this type of material in the world, and the first orderly exploitation of an entire country’s brainpower.”
How the collection came to be, goes back, for beginnings, to one day in 1944 when the Allied Combined Chiefs of Staff set in motion a colossal search for war secrets in occupied German territory. They created a group of military-civilian teams, termed the “Joint Intelligence Objectives Committee”, which was to follow the invading armies into Germany and uncover all her military, scientific, and industrial secrets for early use against Japan. These teams worked against time to get the most vital information before it was destroyed, and in getting it performed prodigies of ingenuity and tenacity.
At an optical company at Wetzlar, near Frankfurt, for example, the American colonel investigating felt positive that the high executives were holding out on him. But nothing would shake their story: they had given him everything. He returned next day with a legal document which he asked them all to sign. It declared they had turned over “all scientific and trade data, and if not, would accept the consequences.” Two days later they glumly signed the document, then led the colonel to a cache in a warehouse wall. From a safe tumbled out the secret files on optical instruments, microscopy, and aiming devices.
One, two-man search team found itself completely stymied. Records that they had to find had completely disappeared. A rumor indicated they might have been hidden in a mountain. The two scoured the region in a jeep. Nothing. But keeping at it, they stumbled one day onto a small woods road whose entrance was posted: Achtung! Minen! Gingerly, slowly, they inched their jeep in. Nothing happened. But a concrete dugout sunk in the hill revealed another sign: “Opening Will Cause Explosion.”
“We tossed a coin,” one member of this search team said later, “and the loser hitched the jeep tow rope to the dugout door, held his breath and stepped on the gas.”
There was no explosion. The door ripped from its hinges. The sought for secret files were inside!
The German Patent Office put some of its most secret patents down a sixteen-hundred-foot mine shaft at Heringen, then piled liquid oxygen, in cylinders on top of them. When the American Joint Intelligence Objectives team found them, it was doubtful that they could be saved. They were legible, but in such bad shape that a trip to the surface would make them disintegrate. Photo equipment and a crew were therefore lowered into the shaft and a complete microfilm record made of the patents there.
The earliest Joint Intelligence Objectives search teams were followed by others, which were to dig out industrial and scientific secrets in particular. The Technical Industrial Intelligence Committee was one group of these, composed of three hundred and eighty civilians representing seventeen American industries. Later came the teams of the Office of the Publication Board itself and many more groups direct from private industry. Of the later, called, in Germany, Field Intelligence Agencies, Technical (FIAT), there have been over five hundred, of one to ten members each, operating by invitation and tinder the aegis of OPB.
Today the search still goes on. The Office of Technical Services has a European staff of four to five hundred. At Hoechst, it has one hundred abstracters who struggle feverishly to keep ahead of the forty OTS document-recording cameras which route to them each month over one hundred thousand feet of microfilm.
What did we find? You’d like some outstanding samples from the war secrets collection?
The head of the communications unit of Technical Industrial Intelligence Branch opened his desk drawer and took out the tiniest vacuum tube I had ever seen. It was about half the size of a thumb.
“Notice it is heavy porcelain, not glass, and thus virtually indestructible. It is a one thousand watt tube, one-tenth the size of similar American tubes. Today our manufacturers know the secret of making it! ÖAnd here’s somethingÖ”
He pulled some brown, papery-looking ribbon off a spool. It was a quarter-inch wide, with a dull and a shiny side.
“That’s Magnetophone tape,” he said. “It’s plastic, metallized on one side with iron oxide. In Germany that supplanted phonograph recordings. A day’s radio program can be magnetized on one reel. You can demagnetize it, wipe it off, and put a new program on at any time. No needle; so absolutely no noise or record wear. An hour-long reel costs fifty cents.” (today’s “recording tape” E.K.)
He showed me then what had been two of the most closely-guarded technical secrets of the war: the infrared device which the Germans invented for seeing at night, and the remarkably small generator which operated it. German cars could drive at any speed in total black-out, seeing objects clear as day two hundred meters ahead. Tanks with this device could spot targets two miles away. As a sniper-scope it enabled German riflemen to pick off a man in total blackness.
There was a sighting tube, and a selenium screen out front. The screen caught the incoming infrared light, which drove electrons from the selenium along the tube to another screen which was electrically charged and fluorescent. A visible image appeared on this screen. Its clearness and its accuracy for aiming purposes were phenomenal. Inside the tube, distortion of the stream of electrons by the earth’s magnetism was even allowed for!
The small generator, five inches across, stepped up voltage from an ordinary flashlight battery to 15,000 volts! It had a walnut-sized motor which spun a rotor at 10,000 rpm so fast that originally it had destroyed all lubricants with the great amount of ozone it produced. The Germans had developed a new grease: chlorinated paraffin oil. The generator then ran 3,000 hours.
A canvas bag on the sniper’s back housed the device. His rifle had two triggers. He pressed one for a few seconds to operate the generator and the scope. Then the other to kill his man in the dark.
“That captured secret,” my guide declared, “we first used at Okinawa, to the bewilderment of the Japanese.
We got in addition, among these prize secrets, the technique and the machine for making the world’s most remarkable electric capacitor. Millions of capacitors are essential to the radio and radar industry. Our capacitors were always made of metal foil. This one is made of paper, coated with 1/250,000 of an inch of vaporized zinc. Forty per cent smaller, twenty per cent cheaper than our capacitors, it is also self-healing. That is, if a breakdown occurs (like a fuse blowing out), the zinc film evaporates, the paper immediately insulates, and the capacitor is right again. It keeps on working through multiple breakdowns, at fifty percent higher voltage than our capacitors! To most American radio experts this is magic, double distilled.
Mica was another thing. None is mined in Germany, so during the war our Signal Corps was mystified. Where was Germany getting it?
One day a certain piece of mica was handed to one of our experts in the U.S. Bureau of Mines for analysis and opinion.
“Natural mica,” he reported, “and no impurities.”
But the mica was synthetic. The Kaiser Wilhelm Institute for Silicate Research had discovered how to make it and something which had always eluded scientists, in large sheets.
We know now, thanks to FIAT teams, that ingredients of natural mica were melted in crucibles of carbon capable of taking 2,350 degrees of heat, and then, this was the real secret, cooled in a special way. Complete absence of’ vibration was the first essential. Then two forces directly perpendicular to each other were applied. One, vertically, was a controlled gradient of temperature in the cooling. At right angles to this, horizontally, was introduced a magnetic field, this forced the formation of the crystals in large laminated sheets on that plane.
“You see thisÖ?” said the head of Communications Unit, TIIB. It was metal, and looked like a complicated doll’s house with the roof off. “It is the chassis, or frame, for a radio. To make the same thing, Americans would machine cut, hollow, shape, fit, a dozen different processes. This is done on a press in one operation. It is the “cold extrusion” process. We do it some with soft, splattery metals. But by this process the Germans do it with cold steel ! Thousands of parts now made as castings or drop forgings or from malleable iron can now be made this way. The production speed increase is a little matter of one thousand per cent.”
In textiles the war secrets collection has produced so many revelations that American textile men are a little dizzy. There is a German rayon-weaving machine, discovered a year ago by the American Knitting Machine Team, which increases production in relation to floor space by one hundred and fifty percent. Their “Links to Links” loom produces a ladderless, run-proof hosiery. New German needle-making machinery, it is thought, revolutionize that business in both the United Kingdom and the United States.
There is a German method for pulling the wool from sheepskins without injury to hide or Fiber, by use of an enzyme. Formerly the “Puller”, a trade secret, was made from animal pancreas from American packing houses. During the war the Nazis made it from a mold called aspergil paraciticus, which they seeded in bran. It results not only in better wool, but in ten per cent greater yield.
Another discovery was a way to put a crimp in viscose rayon fibers which gives them the appearance, warmth, wear resistance, and reaction-to-dyes of wool. The secret here, our investigators found, was the addition to the cellulose of twenty-five percent fish protein.
But of all the industrial secrets, perhaps the biggest windfall came from the laboratories and plants of the great German cartel, I.G. Farbenindustrie. Never before, it is claimed, was there such a storehouse of secret information. It covers liquid and solid fuels, metallurgy, synthetic rubber, textiles, chemicals, plastics, drugs, dyes. One American dye authority declares:
“It includes the production know-how and the secret formulas for over fifty thousand dies. Many of them are faster and better than ours. Many are colors we were never able to make. The American dye industry will be advanced at least ten years !”
In matters of food, medicine, and branches of the military art, the finds of the search teams were no less impressive. And in aeronautics and guided missiles they proved downright alarming.
One of the food secrets the Nazis had discovered was a way to sterilize fruit juices without heat. The juice was filtered, then cooled, then carbonated and stored under eight atmospheres of carbon-dioxide pressure. Later the carbon-dioxide was removed; the juice passed through another filter, which, this time, germ-proofed it, and then was bottled. Something, perhaps, for American canners to think about.
Milk pasteurization by ultra-violet light has always failed in other countries, but the Germans had found how to do it by using light tubes of great length, and simultaneously how to enrich the milk with vitamin D.
At a plant in Kiel, British searchers of the Joint Intelligence Objectives Committee found that cheese was being made, “good quality Hollander and Tilster”, by a new method at unheard of speed. “Eighty minutes from the renneting to the hooping of the curd,” report the investigators. The cheese industry around the world had never been able to equal that !
Butter (in a creamery near Hamburg) was being produced by something long wished for by American butter makers: a continuous butter making machine. An invention of dairy equipment manufacturers in Stuttgart, it took up less space than American chums and turned out fifteen hundred pounds an hour. The machine was promptly shipped to this country to be tested by the American Butter Institute.
Among other food innovations was a German way of making yeast in almost limitless quantities. The waste sulphite liquor from the beech-wood used to manufacture cellulose was treated with an organism known to bacteriologists as candida arborea at temperatures higher than ever used in yeast manufacture before. The finished product served as both animal and human food. Its caloric value is four times that of lean meat, and it contains twice as much protein !
The Germans had also developed new methods of preserving food by plastics and new, advanced refrigeration techniques. Refrigeration and air-conditioning on German U-boats had become so efficient that the submarines could travel from Germany to the Pacific, operate there for two months, and then return to Germany without having to take on fresh water for the crew ! A secret plastic mixture (among its ingredients were polyvinyl acetate, chalk, and talc) was used to coat bread and cheese. A loaf fresh from the oven was dipped, dried, re-dipped, and then heated half an hour at 285 degrees. It would be unspoiled and good to eat eight months later !
As for medical secrets in this collection, one Army surgeon has remarked, “some of them will save American medicine years of research; some of them are revolutionary, like, for instance, the German technique for treatment after prolonged and usually fatal exposure to cold.”
This discovery revealed to us by Major Alexander’s search already mentioned, reversed everything medical science thought about the subject. In every one of the dread experiments the subjects were most successfully revived, both temporarily and permanently, by immediate immersion in hot water. In two cases of complete standstill of heart and cessation of respiration, a hot bath as 122 degrees brought both subjects back to life. Before our war with Japan ended, this method was adopted as the treatment for use by all American Air-Sea-Rescue Services, and it is generally accepted by medicine today.
German medical researchers had discovered a way to produce synthetic blood plasma. Called “Capain”, it was made on a commercial scale and equaled natural plasma in results. Another discovery was “Periston”, a substitute for the blood liquid. An oxidation production of adrenalin (Adrenichrome) was produced in quantity successfully only by the Nazis and was used with good results in combating high blood pressure (of which 750,000 die annually in the United States). Today we have the secret of the manufacture and considerable amounts of supply.
Likewise of great importance medically were certain researches by Dr. Boris Fojewksky of the Kaiser Wilhelm Institute of Biophysics at Frankfurt. These were in the ionization of air as related to health. Positively ionized air was discovered to have deleterious effects upon human well-being, and to account for the discomfort and depression felt at times when the barometer is falling. In many persons, it was found, its presence brought on asthma, hay fever, and nervous tension. It raised high blood pressure, sometimes to the danger point. It would bring on the symptoms common in mountain sickness labored and rapid breathing, dizziness, fatigue, sleepiness.
Negatively ionized air, however, did all the opposite. It was exhilarating, creating a feeling of high spirits and well-being. Mental depression was wiped out by it. In pathological cases it steadied breathing, reduced high blood pressure, was a check on allergies and asthma. The importance of its presence wherever human beings live, work, or recuperate from illness may some day make its production one of the major functions of air conditioning.
But of highest significance for the future were the Nazi secrets in aviation and in various types of missiles.
“The V-2 rocket which bombed London,” an Army Air Force publication reports, “was just a toy compared to what the Germans had up their sleeve.”
When the war ended, we now know, they had 138 types of guided missiles in various stages of production or development, using every kind of remote control and fuse: radio, radar, wire, continuous wave, acoustics, infrared, light beams and magnetics, to name some; and for power, all methods of jet propulsion for either subsonic or supersonic speeds.
Jet propulsion had even been applied to helicopter flight ! The fuel was piped to combustion chambers at the rotor blade tips, where it exploded, whirling the blades around like a lawn sprinkler or pinwheel.
As for rocket propulsion, the A-4 rocket, which was just getting into large scale production when the war ended, was forty-six feet long, weighed over 24,000 pounds, and traveled 230 miles. It rose sixty miles above the earth and had a maximum speed of 3, 735 miles an hour, three times that of the earth’s rotation at the equator. The secret of its supersonic speed, we know today, lay in its rocket motor which used liquid oxygen and alcohol for fuel. It was either radio controlled or self guided to its target by gyroscopic means. Since its speed was supersonic, it could not be heard before it struck.
Another German rocket which was coming along was the A-9. This was bigger still, 29.000 pounds, and had wings which gave it a flying range of 3,000 miles. It was manufactured at the famous Peenemuende army experiment station and achieved the unbelievable speed of 5,870 miles an hour!
A long range rocket-motored bomber which, the war documents indicate, was never completed, merely because of the war’s quick ending, would have been capable of flight from Germany to New York in forty minutes. Pilot-guided from a pressurized cabin, it would have flown at an altitude of 154 miles. Launching was to be by catapult at 500 miles an hour, and the ship would rise to its maximum altitude in as short a time as four minutes. There, fuel exhausted, it would glide through the outer atmosphere, bearing down on its target. With one hundred bombers of this type the Germans hoped to destroy any city on earth in a few days operations.
Little wonder then, that today Army Air Force experts declare publicly that in rocket power and guided missiles the Nazis were ahead of us by at least ten years!
The Germans even had devices ready which would take care of pilots forced to leave supersonic planes in flight. Normally a pilot who stuck his head out at such speeds would have it shorn off. His parachute on opening would burst in space. To prevent these calamitous happenings an ejector seat had been invented which flung the pilot clear instantaneously. His chute was already burst, that is, made of latticed ribbons which checked his fall only after the down-drag of his weight began to close its holes.
A Nazi variation of the guided air missile was a torpedo for underwater work which went unerringly to its mark, drawn by the propeller sound of the victim ship from as far away as ten miles. This missile swam thirty feet below the water, at forty miles an hour, and left no wake. When directly under its target, it exploded.
All such revelations naturally raise the question: Was Germany so far advanced in air, rocket, and missile research that, given a little more time, she might have won the war? Her war secrets, as now disclosed, would indicate that possibility. And the Deputy Commanding General of Army Air Force Intelligence, Air Technical Service Command, has told the Society of Aeronautical Engineers within the past few months:
For the release and dissemination of all these one-time secrets, the Office of the Publication Board was established by an order of President Truman within ten days after Japan surrendered. The order directed that not only enemy war secrets should be published, but also (with some exceptions) all American secrets, scientific and technical, of all government war boards. (The office of Scientific Research and Development, the National Research Council, and other such.) And thereby was created what is being termed now the biggest publishing problem a government agency ever had to handle.
For the war secrets, which conventionally used to be counted in scores, will run to three-quarters of a million separate documentary items (two-thirds of them on aeronautics) and will require several years and several hundreds of people to screen and prepare them for wide public use!
Today translators and abstracters of the Office of Technical Services, successor to the OPB, are processing them at the rate of about a thousand a week. Indexing and cataloguing the part of the collection which will be permanently kept may require more than two million cards; and at Wright Field the task is so complicated that electric punch-card machines are to be installed. A whole new glossary of German-English terms has to be compiled, something like forty thousand words on new technical and scientific terms ! With so many documents, it has, of course, been impossible because of time and money limitations to reprint or reproduce more than a very few. To tell the public what is available, therefore, the OTS issues a bibliography weekly. This contains the newest war secrets information as released, with titles, prices of copies currently available or to be made up, and an abstract of contents.
The original document, or the microfilm copy, is then generally sent to the greatest depository. To make them more easily accessible to the public, the Library sends copies, when enough are available, to about 125 so-called “depository” libraries throughout the United States.
And is the public doing anything with these one-time war secrets? It is - it is eating them up. As many as twenty thousand orders have been filled in a month, and the order rate is now a thousand times a day. Scientists and engineers declare that the information is “cutting years from the time we would devote to problems already scientifically investigated.” And American business men Ö ! A run through the Publication Board’s letters file shows the following:
The Bendix Company in South Bend, Indiana, writes for a German patent on the record player changer “with records stacked above the turntable.” Pillsbury Mills wants to have what is available on German flour and bread production methods. Kendall Manufacturing Company (“Soapine”) wants insect repellent compounds. Pioneer Hi-Bred Corn Company, Iowa, asks about “interrogation of research workers at the agricultural high school at Hohenheim.” Pacific Mills requests I.G. Farbenindustrie’s industrie’s water repellent, crease resistant finish for spun rayon. The Polaroid Company would like something on “the status of exploitation of photography and optics in Germany. And there are, incidentally, ten to twenty thousand German patents yet to be screened!
The most insatiable customer is Amtorg, the Soviet Union’s foreign trade organization. One of its representatives walked into the Publication Board office with the bibliography in hand and said, “I want copies of everything.” The Russians sent one order in May for $5,594.50 worth, two thousand separate war secrets reports. In general, they buy every report issued!
Americans, too, think there is extra ordinarily good prospecting in the war secrets lode. Company executives practically park on the OTS’s front doorstep, wanting to be first to get hold of a particular report on publication. Some information is so valuable that to get it a single day ahead of a competitor may be worth thousands of dollars ! But the OTS takes elaborate precautions to be sure that no report is ever available to anyone before general public release.
After a certain American aircraft company had ordered a particular captured war document, it was queried as to whether the information therein had made it or saved it money. The cost of the report had been a few dollars. The company answered: “Yes, at least a hundred thousand dollars.” !!
A research head of another business firm took notes for three hours in the OTS offices one day. “Thanks very much,” he said, as he stood to go, “The notes from these documents are worth at least half a million dollars to my company.” !!
And after seeing the complete report on the German synthetic fiber industry, one American manufacturer remarked:
“This report would be worth twenty million dollars to my company if it could have it exclusively.” !!
Of course you, and anybody else, can now have it, and lots of other once secret information, for a few dollars. All the war secrets, as released, are completely in the public domain.
That was unmitigated highway robbery as practiced by the Allies - unworthy of civilized conduct. Even today, our world lives off of the carcass of that era.
It bears remembering that the United States was goaded into bloodlust by the proverbial Unseen Hand. Twice in a century, the Allies robbed Germany blind, not only of most of her scientists and patents, but also of her foreign assets and possessions. Why add, three generations hence, insult to injury and vilify a country and a government whose scientific footprints are still all over our landscape - and likely even our heavens? Read about so-called “Nazi UFOs.” Their potential existence, in many researchers’ opinion, is not a rhetorical question.
Can it be true, as evidence suggests, that we are still at war? Can it be true that the reviled “Nazis” still do what they do best - put the fear of the Lord into their underhanded opposition? Would that not be a joke supreme - and all we are taught to believe?
I say the last word on this scientific free-for-all at the end of the war has not yet been spoken - and heard.
I quote from Richard Edmondson, a columnist at Veterans Today:
“Molds, and all the assumptions and beliefs we have for years managed to fit into them, are increasingly becoming faulty and inapplicable and worthy of being tossed.
“But maybe in a way there is a silver lining in that. For two molds that particularly seem to have exceeded their expiration dates are,
1) Jews as devout, holy, perennially guiltless, chosen by God, and unjustly victimized; and,
2) Nazis as vicious, depraved, bloodthirsty, sadistic and the personification of evil.
“How many things on this earth are really that black and white? Not many. And for this reason it is probably time to toss both of them.”
Germany: Since 1945 a Vassal State to Israel
An 87-year-old lady of high intelligence and spotless reputation, Frau Ursula Haverbeck of Vlotho, Germany, has recently been sentenced to 10 months in prison for speaking out against incessant German-bashing. What did she say? Demanding proof about alleged atrocities in Auschwitz, as so repeatedly and vociferously claimed. She says no such proof can be found.
Specifically, Ms. Haverbeck insists that Auschwitz was a work camp, not a death camp. That’s good news - isn’t it? She agreed that there were casualties - as there will be in any war - but no deaths due to gassings. There never was a F¸hrer plan to kill the Jews of Europe in government-sponsored, industrial-type fashion.
She said all this, and more, on an hour-long national television show called Panorama, similar to America’s Sixty Minutes.
Frau Haverbeck (right) is certainly no skinhead. She comes across as poised, articulate, and very well-informed. For her heretical assertions, she is expected to be incarcerated for almost an entire year. For her principled stand on behalf of historical truth, she earned herself the leftist slur “Nazi-Oma,” repeated with palpable relish on just about every European network and print syndication.
Off with her head!
As Ian Greenlaugh, a VT colleague of mine, noted this morning:
What sort of nation throws 87-year-old women into jail for speaking the truth? Certainly not one that can consider itself to be a functioning free and fair democracy.
A “free and fair democracy?” Well, that’s exactly what Germany is not . We’re talking faux “democracy.” The Bundesrepublik, as a truncated post-war Germany has been rechristened, is still a vassal state, a fossil of a war lost by the German military more than seven decades ago, as we are never allowed to forget.
Here’s what’s not widely understood. Germany is an Allied -occupied colony and has been for more than 70+ years, despite a threadbare democratic faÁade. A conqueror’s ceasefire was declared in 1945 when the military arm of the Third Reich surrendered. A pro forma ceasefire came into effect on the 8th of May 1945 as part of the military alliance called NATO. But there was never a peace treaty. Ever.
A genuine peace treaty was never allowed to be born.
It is my firm contention that World War II didn’t end. In Germany, there is a bitter saying that the Bundesrepublik has been installed “Ö to keep the Americans in, the Russians out, and the Germans down.” That folkish wisdom fits the situation.
In 1998 in an interview taped five years before Ernst Zundel was politically kidnapped in broad daylight on American soil, he explained to an Israeli reporter exactly what this means:
Germany’s political enemies currently in charge of that chunk of real estate, called “Germany” in the vernacular, have succeeded in inducing guilt complexes into an entire unsuspecting population leading to the classic symptoms of the massive national psychosis that we can see today. A jokester once observed that there are more televisions in Germany than there are bathtubs, which means that brains gets scrubbed more often and more thoroughly than backsides.
After seventy+ years after the Third Reich surrendered, Germany is still an occupied country, a fact kept from the German people, “re-educated” to the hilt. Your average German has not the faintest clue.
“Induced insanity”, as Dr. Rigolf Hennig, a noted German psychiatrist, has stated, “has little to do with intelligence but a great deal to do with suspension of logical thought brought about by pseudo-religious indoctrination.”
Let me try to explain that to you. As the Catholic Church relies on Infallibility, politically beholden judges in the German courts rely on “Manifest Obviousness” or Offenkundigkeit - roughly akin to the Anglo-Saxon concept of “Judicial Notice” - meaning “Ö what exists need not be proven.” Tuesday follows Monday. The sun sets in the West. The moon shines bright at night. Moscow is the capital of Russia. Guilt on the German character is fixed for all eternity. They gassed six million Jews.
What do you call a country in the very heart of Europe that does not have its own elected government? A USA protectorate? An Israeli colony? A trial run for the New World Order? Twistspeak in the Orwellian mode?
Here is the seamy tale. Legally, the Bundesrepublik is not the legitimate successor to the Reich. Even Germany’s own highest Constitutional Court affirmed it. It cannot be the legitimate successor because, under international law, the “Reich” is still the legitimate state and two states cannot legally govern the same geographic area at the same time. Just as Russia didn’t disappear after the Soviet regime collapsed, the German Reich continues to exist, regardless of politically motivated claims to the contrary.
Offenkundigkeit exists to enforce political dogma and punish heresy. It means that if you are unlucky enough to end up with a legitimate question - for instance, Did Six Million Really Die? - before a judge who toes the expected political line, the fix is in for you before the trial even begins. A defense on the merits of your case is strictly precluded by law. You are not allowed to argue what you suspect to be true, or what you know to be true, or what you can prove to be true. Offenkundigkeit stands in the courtroom like the golem that it is - and you better stand at attention!
You are forbidden by law to bolster your assertion or even your opinion with evidence such as forensic facts - and if an attorney is foolish enough to insist, he or she is “guilty” of the same “crime” as his or her defendant - “guilty by mere association and intent.
Think of it this way: A man of impeccable repute is falsely accused of being a thief. Since most defendants are unschooled on details of the law, he may assume that he must prove his innocence. Not so! According to law and convention, the state must prove he stole.
He claims he didn’t steal. He argues there’s no evidence he stole. He gets himself a lawyer. The lawyer argues that the accusation can’t be true - where is the evidence? The judge replies: “It’s obvious. Offenkundig. Are you a thief yourself? Shut up - or else, I’ll sentence you for stealing.”
Offenkundigkeit has, thus, become the Holy Cow of German jurisprudence regarding so-called “war crimes” - and, lately, hate speech crimes. It gives beholden judges court jester license.
How can a defense attorney then offer a solid rebuttal, if the law not only forbids it but endangers the attorney himself? The short answer is that he can’t. The long answer is written on the wind.
The German “war crimes” trials and now their modern version, “hate crimes” trials, are a farce. They are the bull horns of a military occupation that likes to dress itself in democratic finery but is, in fact, an autocratic instrument enforcing a false history. The simple truth is that the German Reich was not obliterated when the German Wehrmacht surrendered. It was kept feeble on purpose by the victorious Allies so it could be ruled by a malicious cabal that took over as a provisional government whose function to this day is to ensure endless “reparation” for a “crime” forensic science disproved decades ago!
The Bundesrepublik - it’s acronym is BRD - was meant to be a temporary measure, but you know what happens when unwelcome guests invade your house, rob you of your property title, dig in their heels and stay put. If they have the power that you no longer have, you’re stuck with unwelcome intruders that write the rules for you!
The Bundesrepublik was never meant to last. It was put in its place because there was a vacuu
m - until such time as the ill-fated Germans, held to be pathologically addicted to authoritarian rule of grandiose design, were sufficiently “matured politically” to vote themselves a government more suitable to Allied tastes. This, sadly, never happened. From the Allies’ point of view, the occupation was a noble interim - on paper. Until desirable maturity in the German populace had taken root, the powers-that-be would rule the besieged, bloodied, starving, decimated Germans for their own good in their own ruins, and “re-educate” them thoroughly for as long as it took until they came to their senses.
Ceasefire, yes - but no peace treaty.
That ceasefire exists to this day. That means any minute new guns could start firing again!
The pity is that the Germans were never told of this provisional arrangement that would have given them their freedom as soon as they showed proper remorse and paid enough restitution for crimes alleged to have happened. The facts of the matter were quietly swept under the rug.
Thus was created a bottomless pit. A thoroughly “re-educated” German can never show enough remorse. Not as long as there is still a nickel to be filched or a submarine to be delivered as a gesture of “good will” to the State of Israel.
Three post-war generations came and went. The usurpers of Germany’s sovereignty stayed on because they liked their cozy nests. They made the Germans pay for their own occupation through an arrangement called Stationierungskosten paid out of the BRD treasury, defended by the Allies’ guilt cudgel called Offenkundigkeit. Nobody knew what to ask - until Ernst Zundel’s Mannheim trial brought that red herring to the fore.
(Left_ Judge Meinerzhagen, who sentenced Ernst Zundel to five years’ in prison and who told him during sentencing: ”Even a bird will refuse to fly over your grave!”
Time-tested Old-Testament hatred!
Today, most Germans fancy themselves to be benevolently ruled by a smug entity dressed up in democratic finery that still remains, in fact and law, a provisional administration kept carefully controlled. It still serves an alien agenda.
What alien agenda, you ask? The New World Order, waiting in the wings, that’s what.
Secrets of the Holohoax and Zionish Fantasies
German Gutter Press in Overdrive about the Himmler Diaries
[ Editor’s note: Ingrid asks what is the motivation for this new virulent, hysterical hatred; and wonders “Is there something in the pipeline we should know about?”
The Zios’ backs are to the wall, as the whole world comes on line knowing about their involvement with the September 11 Hoax against the American people. More and more of the world is becoming weary at the occupation of Palestinian land, and the Likudniks’ periodic mowing down of the Palestinians in Gaza. So, perhaps it behooves the Zios to dust off and revive their pet German whipping boys to rally their younger generation and re-implant the psyops of the 20th century.
Read on, because this is a good piece, with facts well presented by someone who has been in the trenches. And, we are once again indelibly reminded that those who haven’t learned the lessons of the past are doomed to repeat themÖ ]
Word has come my way that Bild, a major German mainstream publication akin to America’s National Enquirer, saw fit to bash the Germans one more time. The fairytale, this latest round, is the “discovery” of what are called the “Himmler Diaries” ñ a recent find in Moscow claimed to be in size more than 1,000 pages. Researchers ñ one by the name of Katzen (!) pored over these pages for more than three years, distilling what is believed to be “new evidence” of what the wicked Germans did to the fabulous Jews.
Up front, it’s not a “diary” as commonly defined. It’s calendar notes. The Germans call them Kalendarium. And only a portion of them is trotted out in customary gore.
Informed sources told me the following:
Up front, all should remember the fraud inflicted on the world via the widely touted “discovery” of the alleged “Hitler Diaries,” the greatest literary fraud known in the post-war era ñ “Ö in Hitler’s handwriting”, no less. At the time and to his credit, David Irving exposed those as a forgery, right in Der Stern press conference in Hamburg.
A well-known painting-and-signature fraudster called Kujau forged the entire manuscript, making millions for the beneficiaries of atrocity tales. That “diary” was all concocted from the get-go!
It’s a surprise that these “authentic” Himmler Diaries should surface now ñ and with a virulence that leaves one stunned and speechless ñ when almost all of the entire cesspool narratives of the Third Reich’s mistreatment of the Jews in German concentration camps have been debunked en masse. These tales are frazzling left and right, thanks to the rigor of global Revisionist research over so many post-war decades.
There are some valid inferences to draw that these so-called “diaries” did not just accidentally come to the fore as an atrocity goldmine ñ assuming that the Kalendarium notes are, as is claimed, authentic. A wicked conspiracy theory thought:
Were they withheld for seven decades because their content would have exonerated rather than implicated the Third Reich and its leaders? All diaries are equal, to paraphrase Orwell, but some are more equal than others.
There is another “Himmler diary” still in existence, still wrapped in silence, kept in an Israeli vault. Its existence was known decades ago, because Ernst Zundel was told of those diaries as far back as 1988, when he discussed their mysterious presence with David Irving during his Second Great Holocaust Trial. These diaries were in possession of someone in Israel for decades ñ and were never exploited for political mileage and coin. Why not? Why hold them in reserve? Is that what the Israelis would do, ever eager to trot out ever more variations of horror allegedly done to the Jews?
If that genuine diary, still under wraps, had been of use to implicate the Germans, it would have shown up right after the war in the many, many trials instrumentalized to judicially murder Germany’s leaders ñ many of them by hanging. That kind of a diary would have been treated like a gift from the gods by the victors in charge of those kangaroo courts. We would have never heard the end of it! The Kalendarium notes are a poor substitute ñ a deflection maneuver? ñ to divert and bamboozle the gullible public. One has to ask: Why now? Another false flag in the wings?
Here, too, during the Great Holocaust Trial in 1988, Ernst was told an alternate version by one of his sterling defense witnesses, an award-winning Canadian columnist who volunteered to tell of his experience in post-war Germany. I knew him as Doug Collins.
Right after the defeat of Germany, this native British soldier ñ who had been a German POW in various prison camps during the war and had to his credit six daring escapes ñ had been recruited as a British Intelligence Field Officer near Oldenburg in Germany. Doug told Ernst about Himmler being interrogated by the Allies at one of the barracks he, Doug, had access to ñ he said that the British victors beat Himmler to a pulp, picked up his corpse, put it on a bed, opened his belt and pulled down his trousers to pull his penis out ñ and that is the sight that was allowed the many gawkers in British uniform parading by so they could get their jollies.
Tellingly Collins, who was an otherwise thoroughly decent man and a big help to Ernst in his trial, did not seem to think that to humiliate an entire nation by abusing a dead man was offensive. Wars can do brutal things to the human psyche, as we should never forget.
The short few sentences in the internet version of the Jerusalem Post claim that there were entries in these “diaries” where Himmler watched Diesel motor exhausts in the Sobibor concentration camp among others, allegedly for gassing Jews ñ in 1943!
These so-called “Diesel gassings” have been debunked as fraudulent stories ñ disproved by science for decades by some of the world’s foremost Revisionist forensic experts, for instance Dr. Robert Faurisson of France, the German politologist Udo Walendy, the American engineer Fritz Berg, and others. These “Diesel exhaust fumes” are old hat!
The Daily Mail reports about Himmler freaking out because of parts of the brain of an executed prisoner spattered on his uniform by a pit outside of Minsk. That’s graphic, isn’t it? Here, too, Irving told this macabre story decades ago already ñ he had heard it from a famous film maker and photographer in the 1960s or early 1970s. So this is not “recent news” for mass consumption as paraded in Bildñ it is a seamy vintage atrocity tale of those horrible years now used to psychologically infect a new crop of Germans with hatred for their forebears.
You cannot ask often enough: Why now? To shore up the readership list for an otherwise limping publication in competition with a vigorous alternative media that’s making tracks all over the place for Truth in History? Or is it just an exercise in sadism for the sake of airing more hatred?
So what do we have in this latest exercise of Never Forget? Two different documents cleverly merged into one, trotted out in gory dribs and drabs to humiliate and punish the Germans.
One cannot help but wonder about the timing for such virulent, hysterical hatred. Is something in the pipeline we should know?
The shelf life for concentration camp atrocity consumption has worn out. This non-stop artillery barrage of Nazi horrors has long ago caused the opposite effect ñ one of utter fatigue and disgust. Overload! I know of no intelligent person who has studied this issue who still believes that six minus three is still six.
What I see is, sadly, an unwillingness to say so out loud. To do so will destroy one’s reputation, destroy careers, destroy marriages, put ill will between parents and kids, destroy the love that used to bind the generations, destroy a people’s pride in culture, shut off the energy for creativity ñ and open yet more prison doors to demonstrate the orthodox Holocaust’s gruesome effects depending on sheer spite and air.
The Germans have a magnificently precise vocabulary that can only be approximated by those klutzy, non-Germanic tongues that now pollute the landscape. The Germans call the German mainstream press their “L¸genpresse.” A literal translation can’t quite do it justice ñ Lying Press? Well, and what else is new? All that you get is a yawn.
To call the German mainstream media “gutter press” hits the spot.
This latest Himmler exposÈ is nothing but more gutter press. Those outfits spewing sewer stuff are still in the pay of an alien agenda. This new attack, in fact, is more than shoring up a worn-out narrative.
It’s ethnic warfare at its rawest ñ a desperate campaign of isolating an entire people, demonizing them, traumatizing them with endless propaganda tales that have grown beards by now! Decades ago already, these politically expedient propaganda tales were resolutely disproved a hundred times over by researchers, scholars, writers, historians in and out of the courtrooms in all kinds of countries from sea to shining sea.
There is no point at all repeating what is already known and documented to exhaustion. There are hundreds of thousands of court transcript pages, generated under cross examination under oath in courts of Western jurisprudence, all in the public domain, all open to inspection. This massively debunking evidence was generated by truth-loving people all over the globe at great financial cost and peril to themselves. It’s all there, for the asking ñ most of it on the Net.
As Putin put it so clearly at a recent press conference, addressing mainstream presstitudes who sat there, smirking in the face of one of the world’s most impressive leaders:
“I don’t know any longer how to reach you peopleÖ!”
It’s really very simple: One cannot! The Holocaust Cudgel, as it is referred to by ever more despairing Germans under merciless spiritual torment, cannot be destroyed by mere words.
Nazi UFOs: The Plot Thickens!
Article by Ernst Zundel
[ Note: As I was polishing the final draft on Ernst’s opinion piece below, guess what? On the world’s ET message board, at Wiltshire, there appeared on August 27, 2016, a spectacular stylized swastika. Take a look! Ö Ingrid Zundel ]
There’s folkish wisdom in the saying: “If you slip on a banana peel, don’t blame the Jews.”
An artifact of the above, widely practiced by even the most open-minded of our Internetters, is the unspoken dictum: “If you slip on a banana peel, be sure to blame the Nazis!”
The Nazis, as the West’s obligatory punching bags, are always a sure bet. That’s how one can put oneself in the company of the Forever Righteous Ones and get oneself a tree planted with one’s name in the thriving Marxist statelet in what used to be called Palestine.
A judge, no less, named Michael Shrimpton, referred to sometimes facetiously as “the Shrimp” in commentaries on Veterans Today, claims that a shadowy organization is planning big mischief. And wouldn’t you know it? It’s the Nazis again! Three generations ago, the bloodiest war in history was unleashed on the savages to finish them off, once and for all - but there they are, resurrected!
Since the world’s democracies have just about run out of original rogues, this time it’s the UFO Nazis. We are talking about those who were transferred out of the ruins of a beaten, smoking Germany at the end of and after the war. With some imagination, you can spot them on the Net - they are tall; they are blond; they are white; and they are inñyour-face with their own race and ancestry. According to today’s politically correct etiquette, all of these telltale features are suspect.
Ever heard about their Ahnenerbe? That is a term that’s very chic to use. It means that they insist their genes store hidden powers of defense they know how to tap into against those they consider their foes. Shrimpton derisively calls them “the Huns” - a term coined by the British War Propaganda agencies of World War I. Ethnic slurs are extremely useful as political weapons. They can and do survive a century!
There are plenty of stories around about the UFO Nazis’ to chill you. The Internet is full of it; they are in a category all by themselves, and tomorrow if not sooner they are going to, yet one more time, try to enslave the world.
Didn’t we - the blameless ones, the good guys, filled to the rim with moral rectitude, rally the rest of the nations world-wide and in pitiless warfare send them and their offspring to the very pits of hell? And now they have the chutzpah to show their visages again?
There is earnest talk on the Net that a brand new Nazi disaster is looming. It’s called the Fourth Reich, and you better watch out. There is dark talk about tunnels and lairs as well as clandestine submarine action about which the rest of the West is carefully kept in the dark.
Some of our better minds who follow urban lore are curious about just what is really going on. Ingrid had a little note from Gordon Duff, Chief Editor of Veterans Today, an Internet contact she values not just for his spectacular intel connections but his unorthodox ways to get to the bottom of issues. She passed it on to me:
“What can Ernst talk about?”
As one of the West undeclared political hostages still being held in Germany, what can I really talk about within the mental gulag that is the Europe of today? Well, I suppose I can talk about my politically incorrect past which got me into plenty of misfortune. The Z¸ndel UFO stories are in the public domain, as are my early airbrush renderings of various UFOs of Nazi origin. There is hardly a UFO book or film of that era that doesn’t feature them.
“DVD” doesn’t exist
Let me take a new look at some old ones and tell you what I know - and what I still suspect. One of Ingrid’s VT colleagues who writes for Veterans Today mentioned a book he asked for my opinion as to its claimed veracity. It’s called Spyhunter, authored by the above-referenced Judge Shrimpton. I tried to read it in pdf format, but gave up after just a few chapters. Ingrid does not have a high opinion of the chap, he being a particularly nasty German-basher. But his hypothesis of Nazi villainy of classic vintage resurrected intrigued us both, so we made an honest effort to see what the Shrimp has to say.
This author stipulates that there exists a Nazi outfit, founded in 1928, still active, highly structured, with evil tentacles worldwide, operating shadowly where you would least expect to run into a Nazi. This secret outfit, claims the author, exists as Deutsches Verteidigungs Dienst - abbreviated, “DVD.”
Well, now - let’s see. Let’s analyze this acronym. We start with the assumption that Germans are old-fashioned. To no one’s great surprise, the Third Reich Germans were badly out of touch with Marxist gender sentiment that levels all sexual distinctions. Those Aryans of yore had proper gender titles even for their nouns, to which the latter-day Germans still stubbornly adhere.
English language cannot hold a candle to old-fashioned German grammar. Without getting my readers entangled in convoluted intricacies of Germanic Grammarian Gender - now there’s an acronym for you that ought to make you smile! - let me explain the bare basics.
The English use one bland, all-purpose “the” in front of a noun - whereas the Germans have three: male, female, and neutral. Germans like genders to be orderly and proper. Der Mond. Die Sonne. Das Weltall - where Nazi UFOs allegedly soar. Futhermore, German gender even controls adjective suffixes preceding a noun, depending on when and where they are placed.
Ingrid took one look at the source on which the Shrimpton acronym is based and knew in an instant that what she saw was sloppy German - a clumsy imitation pretending to pass for the real McCoy:
“See, Ernst? Right there! Two errors in three words! The noun Dienst requires the male article der - as in der Mann, die Frau, das Kind. Das Dienst? That’s laughable! It’s der Dienst, if you please!”
Shrimpton’s acronym exposing transgender German is a dead giveaway up front - and please don’t miss the compound noun Verteidigungsdienst, which must be a contraction, but isn’t in Shrimpton’s suspect acronym. If you object that such a teensy-weensy error should not be held against a British barrister whose hobby is to smear the Germans, then you misjudge the very essence of what nature crafted and Aryans perfected ó namely a cultured lifestyle. Ingrid concludes that the Shrimp doesn’t know what he is talking about. By bowdlerizing German so disgracefully, he has just advertised his ignorance for all the world to see.
Not only that:
In Chapter 20, subtitled “UFO,” the Schmierfink has decided to incriminate not only Nazis generally but me by name and pedigree. My last name is Z¸ndel - with Umlaut. Two dots above the “u”. What does he write? “Ö Dipl-Ing Ernst Zindel Ö designed the Ju 52 transport, the Ju 87 Stuka and the Ju 88 dive bomber/night fighter, yet after 1945 was a ëguest lecturer’ at the Technical Academy at Mulheim. No doubt he was, but what was he doing the rest of the time?”
Donnerwetter! What a prodigy I must have been! In 1945 I was a barefoot, starving six-year-old guarding our precious family goats on whose milk our family of six - our mother and five of us kids - depended to keep us from starving to death. Ingrid tells me that she has seen similar claims by otherwise “scholarly” UFO authors who insist I was part of the Paperclip booty- those gifted Hitler scientists who were brought to America to jump-start the USA’s early space program.
And here is the clincher:
Shrimpton pinpoints Nazis’ shady trickeries still haunting our planet as having had its start in 1928. At that time, there existed indeed a Weimar-like organization whose function was counterintelligence. The Weimar Republic, a politically corrupt interim government put in place after Imperial Germany collapsed, was saved from a Bolshevik take-over just in the nick of time by an old-fashioned German General, Hans von Seeckt, a soldier of the Imperial Prussian Army.
In those years, the Weimar Republic’s military mind was von Seeckt. He created a counterintelligence agency called the Abwehr - translated, Defense - to shield Germany against spies, infiltrators and traitors from within. It was an internal security agency like the FBI or the CIC/Counterintelligence Corps.
Germans really aren’t suited by nature for spying. They consider that activity dirty, dishonest, and disgusting. To be detailed into an espionage outfit was considered guaranteed career suicide.
At any rate, we can assume, dire circumstances of those years convinced von Seekct that he should reconsider. During the Weimar Republic, this agency was headed by some bureaucrat/functionary whose name I can’t recall. A brief reprieve resulted after von Seeckt’s fabled Freikorps units of volunteers had stabilized the situation at the borders and inside Germany proper by creating the Reichswehr - a small professional army of 100,000 men allowed by the Treaty of Versailles - which otherwise forbade the Germans from having tanks, air forces, submarines and heavy weapons.
As part of the various emergency measures von Seeckt put in place, he did create this provisional internal spy system, which became known as the Abwehr. It seems that three generations later Shrimpton’s hyperactive imagination created a brand new Nazi scarecrow out of the Abwehr’s one-time existence.
Here is the gist of the facts on the ground. One might endlessly debate about some of the political half-measures at those massively chaotic years, the sad truth is that von Seeckt’s generals next made a secret pact with Bolshevik Russia, then run by Bronstein/Trotzki, Lenin, Stalin and others of its ilk.
This treaty allowed the Germans a huge military base south of Moscow, large enough to build their own airfields, air craft manufacturing plants, tank factories, hands-on training facilities on heavy weapons etc. Tens of thousands of Weimar Republic Reichswehr’s military men were rotated through these secret military base facilities, receiving hands-on live fire and other military training.
This was a godsend for the Bolsheviks because now they could see all this German equipment up close and spy on the latest top secret German military hardware. This helped them tremendously in their own military development later on.
It also allowed the Soviet secret police to send in “comfort girls” for the lonely elite German officers, which they housed in bordello-like villas. The Soviets filmed and photographed their sexcapades - and in no time at all, the Soviets had gathered miles of sexually incriminating film and other evidence, which they subsequently used to blackmail these German elite for decades in peacetime and well into the war against the Soviets later on.
This Soviet blackmail of the Abwehr business came to an end with Hitler’s emergence as an authoritarian but much admired leader. In 1935, Hitler unilaterally canceled this covert German-Soviet military training cooperation agreement. This story is not exactly one of which a still-struggling Germany could claim to be proud.
One might think of excuses due to the chaos of those years, but still - what happened was un-German and cost Germany dearly in years and decades to come.
Traitors Canaris and Gehlen
Spin back a few short years - and then forward. After Hitler took control and consolidated his power, Admiral Wilhelm Canaris was appointed Abwehr Chief by Hitler.
Canaris was a monarchist-type German, not ideologically committed to the national-socialist agenda then put in place. Secretly, Canaris stood in opposition to Hitler’s ideology and aims.
A minor Abwehr official called Gehlen moved slowly up in the ranks until he was responsible for the important sub-section Fremde Heere Ost/ Alien Armies East whose function was to identify Soviet troops’ disposition and concentrations in the East in front of the German lines. Gehlen at the time was an unknown underling - a mere cog in the machinery of the Abwehr - until war came. Only at that time, Canaris appointed Gehlen to head the very important section Fremde Heere Ost to keep an eye on Soviet divisions that were facing the Wehrmacht in Russia.
Off and on, Hitler’s government tried to cleanse these Abwehr services and their internal spying webs, but there is massive evidence that the Hitler regime never quite succeeded in its efforts. Sleeper agents remained in place and did their damage in the shadows.
This is where Gehlen’s treason comes in. By not identifying many Soviet Divisions in a timely fashion, and not alerting the German leadership and military to the danger posed by these Soviet divisions, especially in the later years at Kursk and Staligrad, the Wehrmacht was blindsided by powerful Soviet elite troops that were coming at them from Siberia. Thus, they were overwhelmed by sheer numbers, and Kursk and Stalingrad were lost - and with it, World War II.
Canaris and Gehlen, were the traitors responsible for this series of hideous disasters that turned the tide of war. All kinds of books have been written since the end of the war about Gehlen and his organization’s treasonous activities against Hitler’s regime and, thus, Germany. Canaris, Gehlen’s boss, was finally discovered and exposed to be sabotaging the German war effort. He was arrested and convicted of treason - and strangled to death. His execution took place while the war still raged on.
Gehlen was never found out during the war. His role only emerged after the war and has been whitewashed by the Allies and the regime they set up in post-war Germany. Naturally the Western Allies loved Gehlen’s treacherous activities and made him their trusted agent - tasked with setting up their post-WWII spy agencies in West Germany and integrating their still existing networks for Allied benefit.
The name Abwehr ceased to exist in 1945, banished by the Allies.
That is the thumbnail sketch of what the Abwehr really was and how it fit into the then existing geopolitical landscape. It has since been clearly established that the Abwehr apparatus was working against the then German/Nazi government’s interests for years, sabotaging many plans and initiatives. The Dulles brothers and the OSS, forerunner of the OSI of Wild Bill Donovan’s ill fame were the contacts and liaison people out of Bern, Switzerland, with links to Canaris-Gehlen and other German traitors.
This unsavory Abwehr situation undoubtedly produced all these thousands of Germans who subsequently acted as leakers, traitors, and spies - which made Germany lose the war in Russia by massive treason and spies in their own midst, due mainly to much of Germany’s elite compromised by sexual blackmail.
In summary, the Abwehr was, in fact, a Weimar Republic Masonic outfit, from its inception constantly ruining Germany’s national interests . It was manipulated and utilized by an international cabal of Gentile and Jewish High Finance - the Schiffs, the Warburgs, the Rothschilds et al - at a time of enormous upheaval in Europe. This can best be illustrated by how Schiff and Kuhn-Loeb, Kerenski, Lenin, Trotzki, Stalin, Litvinov and others were financed and protected by this cabal of killers and thugs, cutthroats and bank robbers that were a curse upon all of the civilized West.
Weimar Germany had so many traitors and Marxist revolutionaries agitating and infiltrating all of German society from 1917-1933 that it was nearly as much victimized as Russia and other European nations from 1918 on - until Hitler seized power away from them and won a short reprieve of peace. From its inception, these selfish aristocratic and financial elite traitors stood in clandestine opposition to the emerging Nazi regime. The Abwehr outfit, staffed and run by traitors, had much in common with treasonous elements still troubling the CIA in our times.
Thus, Shrimpton is clearly out to lunch by re-christening the Abwehr and, by way of deception, making it an “enduring” Nazi spy outfit. In Marxist fashion, he stands history right on its head. Appropriating a traitorous agitating outfit, largely anti-German to begin with, the fabulating Shrimp changes its name, invents a new ghost of long-forgotten years of the “Hun’s” duplicitous nature, and peddles it to latter-day generations of Internet UFO readers as something to be feared. He calls it “DVD.”
“DVD” doesn’t exist. Never has.
I never heard of such an outfit in my life. We can safely dispense with Spyhunter as a reliable source to verify the existence of a mysterious Nazi-liaised entity alleged to be planet-wide, deeply embedded in traditional political establishments and NGO organizations, and bent and determined to do us all in. It’s a figment of Shrimpton’s feverish imagination. It had no significant budget, which would have been in the hundreds of millions, and no organizational structure. Shrimptons German-bashing brainchild, Spyhunter, endlessly winding itself around its own fictitious inanities, is boring and shamefully inaccurate twaddle.
I’ll go a step further. I believe it is likely that Spyhunter is a deliberate disinformation campaign still usefully employed by our current CIA. A child would know that the Allies would have known about this Super-German NSA-like agency and controlled it like everything else they did then - and since - just as they do today when the NSA admittedly bugs the private “Handy” of Angela Merkel, America’s most loyal and devoted ally in Europe.
There are other authors, such as, for instance, Joseph Farrell, Peter Levenda, several underground/underwater Polish explorers, and maybe even Stephen Greer and VT’s Preston James, as well as specialized UFO aficionados like Catherine Austin Fitts and Alexandra Bruce who should be taken seriously, but not the way you think. The premise from which they start writing is faulty.
They all start with the assumption of Nazis as demonic by nature. That this Western weltbild is a psychological false flag is too alien for them to even entertain as a possibility, much less to revise. It’s like asking a Christian to revise the image of Satan. No wonder Historical Revisionist, especially Holocaust Revisionists, have such a tough time!
These authors have done prodigious research about a global mystery that does, in fact, exist. We’re talking about scientifically sophisticated space vehicles, piloted by what are called “ETs” that fly at an uncanny speed and seem to take a peculiar interest in what is happening on Planet Earth, specifically our military programs.
These mostly American writers have drawn some provocative, vexing conclusions - for instance, that there exist on planet and off-planet “break-away societies” that seem upsettingly authoritarian.
These authors aren’t fools. They have a great deal of value to say, but they lean, in my opinion, too much on esoteric fairytales and what spy services would like them to believe - and spread! - to divert us from serious research and very serious issues like US space programs by Nazis, alleged moon and Mars bases by Nazis, revenge plots by Nazis, and other such topics of geopolitical interest.
Take Dr. Joseph Farrell, for instance. He talks about a “bifurcation” within existing elites that happened fairly recently - where orthodox seekers of power - i.e. the “Globalists” - now find themselves in competition with hoary Nazi outfits who also strive for power for selfish ends by tightening the choke hold on us all.
These writers sense, correctly, that something must be going on that looks and feels “Fourth Reich” - and, therefore, devilish. They sense that someone is out there - but where? And why? What is there we don’t know - but should know?
That is where the second part of my essay comes in - why I must take a stand yet one more time for Truth in History. I’m giving you the benefit of my experience as well as my conclusions about those viciously besmirched yet envied space contraptions called Nazi UFOs.
I claim with some admittedly mixed feelings to have accrued some Nazi-UFO credentials that are unique in urban lore. Among some other things that caused me grief in later life, here is what started it all.
German Secret Weapons
In the exuberance of youth as a new emigrÈ to Canada, I published about half a dozen speculative paperbacks on Nazi UFOs. That topic was widespread when I first came to Montreal, a 19-year-old Expat out of the ruins of Germany. It was briskly debated among the post-war European Expats - and in the Canadian media at large - and proved to be my training vehicle in public speaking, because my audiences could never get enough.
My modest booklets, many emblazoned with a swastika and question mark, got me onto hundreds of radio and television talk shows all across Canada and the Continental USA as a budding populist and spokesman on behalf of my ever more demonized kin.
While I was honing my political assets in the late 1950s and all of 1960, Canada was rife with stories about a group of German scientists who had left the Third Reich during and after the war. Rumor had it that these scientists were at first hiding out in South America, then moving to Antarctica, and in no time at all to off-planet places such as to Mars and to the backside of the moon.
Unlike most new arrivals from Europe who struggled for financial subsistence, I had a marketable skill as an accomplished graphic artist and, thus, the means to follow my dreams wherever fancy took me. I was a willing captive to those heroic, mesmerizing stories about mysterious UFOs of Nazi origin.
I met many former greats of national-socialist lore and listened to their tales with rapture. For years, I corresponded with many of them. Over time, I met many more - such as the Huntsville Wernher von Braun Paperclip Germans. I had long conversations with them in their homes. These gifted rocket scientists had credible, precise ways to illustrate what they were doing and where they were going to go - namely out into space without limits. In their opinion, the Allies did not even have a clue, with their pedestrian research, much less the scientific tools, much less the cosmic vision.
For me, that was a sweet getting-even of sorts on behalf of my vilified Expats who, in my own mind, now depended on me and my political vigor to set the record straight about Germany’s true role and goal in World War II ó with its eyes on the star-studded heavens.
The Sixties, Seventies, and even early Eighties were still those years when you could speak your mind on Third Reich Germany’s scientific brilliance without having to look over your shoulder. It was all in good fun - my modest booklets on German Secret Weapons were wildly popular for years, and very lucrative in a global niche market. I sold many, many thousands worldwide.
I was invited to fancy Star Trek conventions and other UFO events to advertise my special brand, and no one took any offense. Hard to believe in today’s censorious climate, isn’t it? For instance, during one Star Trek convention in of all places Manhattan, I gave 13 detailed Radio, TV and print interviews in three days, eventually losing my voice!
I stopped the production of my “secret weapons” publications because I got mired down in other, more serious topics presumed to be in the politically incorrect vein. I don’t need to tell you the details - they are all on the Net, for the asking. Once, the Canadian-style Zionist-Marxists fixed a malevolent eye on my hobby, I was forced to fight long, costly legal battles about some contentious historical claims that they themselves had cooked up. The rest is history. And isn’t it ironic that it was those mischievous Z¸ndel Nazi-UFOs that financed and indirectly helped launch the research juggernaut we now know as Holocaust Revisionism? Sweet irony!
As we all know and are never allowed to forget, that branch of scientific research is now off-limits to be talked about in most Marxist-controlled Western countries parading as “democracies”- in fact, research activities as well as unpopular writings are labeled as a “criminal offence” in Israel, Germany, Austria, France, Switzerland, Italy, and Spain.
As a result of my high profile activities as a political maverick discussing awkward topics the powers-that-be wished to keep under wraps, I soon drew deadly fire from certain politically well-entrenched quarters. Those bipeds - if you can call them that - will cloak themselves as universal saviors and virtuous humanitarians shrieking “Racists!” as loudly as they can to make our European-descent Expats who founded this Continent scurry like frightened rabbits.
Well, I was white. I was proud; and I was not about to tuck tail and run like so many of my later marginal co-Expats, who got out of the kitchen because they could not take the heat. As a result, I was pretty much alone politically once I was criminally charged with having “Ö spread false news” about some Canadian Zionist-Marxists who headed an organization to cash in on the war that we lost - not thanks to any lack of righteousness of Cause or valor on our part, but due to being outgunned and simply outnumbered in that disastrous conflagration now known as World War II.
But be that as it may, in the early and mid-1980s, several global headline-making trials resulted, and life for me was never again quite the same. During those trials, I was assisted by some of these scientific German rocket scientists whom I had in the meantime befriended.
Over the years, I had cultivated many a Nazi-UFO contact while still in Canada, and still fairly free of the venom I had to deal with later on. I enjoyed corresponding with Landig, for instance, an Australian fiction writer, who portrayed Antarctic Nazi UFOs in believable prose in his novels. I personally knew and had friendly contact with some of the most famous secret weapons designers of World War II, many of whom assisted me in securing historical documents of great value in my celebrated court cases that I had to fight while living in the diaspora in Canada for over 40 years.
Never once was I charged, much less convicted, of “hate.” I was charged and hounded through the courts of Canada for “spreading false news” - as one of my defense witnesses put it “Ö just like the weather man and Santa Claus.” I won this particular struggle in the Supreme Court of Canada after 9 Ω years of litigation - not that it made the slightest dent in my continued persecution and legal prosecution, because four days after that stunning victory, I was charged by Canadian Zionist zealots all over again!
I cherished and still cherish those friendships. These “Paperclip Nazis” were the finest Third Reich rocket scientists who were employed alongside Wernher von Braun in Huntsville, Alabama and elsewhere in the USA and Canada. They willingly worked for their American captors and new benefactors with not a shred of malice in their hearts. Thanks to their expertise and dedication, NASA became the space jewel it was - and sadly, no longer is. For them, space science came first. These were our bygone era’s Wunderkinder who at the time designed the Saturn V moon rockets, the Atlas and other heavy-lift US space hardware, and similar military projects. As former enemies, they could have sabotaged the West. They didn’t.
I spent many hours in various homes in upper middle-class Huntsville, where we discussed what had been accomplished in Germany in areas of space exploration and what was still on the drawing boards when World War II drew to a close. For instance, the Third Reich government had plans for a floating space station for 1947-48. Space satellites were on the drawing boards as well and worked on. Even space suits were being tested of Walrus hide because of its unbreakable but stretchable qualities. Today, the Internet is teeming with these “Nazi UFOs in Space” stories - magnificent productions thanks to advanced technology they helped create and perfect.
One afternoon while visiting in Huntsville, I was shown the original 75,000 word German-English technical dictionary, six or so inches thick, specifically created for US industries right after the war in order to exploit Third-Reich rocket and space technology developed in Germany and in the Eastern countries then still in German hands. In the company by these gifted German scientists, I never felt the slightest hostility against their former adversaries, the Western style Allies who had been suckered into a deadly war by largely fabricated Marxist fairytales.
What they were doing would benefit a spectacular future to come - not only for our Western civilization but for mankind in general. Their genuine good will was palpable, as was their understanding of the destructive Marxist/Communist spirit in our era that is now is taking down the West. These brilliant scientists made me appreciate the magic of German space exploration - what had been done so far, and what was still expected to be done - although their homeland lay in ruins and Marxists rose like demons from the ashes and started burrowing into the governments’ innards all over the Aryan West.
I would guess that no one still living has been as close to those Paperclip geniuses on a personal level as I. The friendly ambience around those gifted scientists, the topics and the secrets that they shared with me, were some of the most enriching and meaningful experiences of my life.
Dr. Oberth, for instance, whom I met only via voluminous correspondence, was particularly close to me and my ethnic crusade, as was Dr. Arthur Rudolf, who was later victimized by the OSI, a vengeful US- Marxist outfit.
This aging scientist would find himself bashed viciously in print and on the air. He was later arrested and incarcerated in Canada. My young lady attorney, Barbara Kulaszka, succeeded in getting the elderly genius, chief designer and engineer of those fabulous Saturn moon rockets, out on bail, and I would spend many a lunch or dinner hour with him and his wife, discussing his work and his outlook on a beneficial, nature-oriented future for mankind in space.
For his enormous contribution to all mankind, this man was shamefully deported from Canada as a “war criminal.” He died a few years later in Germany and is now largely forgotten.
Little known to the public at the time was the additional financial and moral support I received from my Paperclip friends and their female counterparts in Germany such as, for instance, Leni Riefenstahl, Hanna Reitsch, and Winnifried Wagner.
Once I became persona non grata politically and was being strangled, Marxist-fashion, by costly legal shackles where historical truth was not a defense, these gifted scientists and their friends would financially support my endeavors.
They respected my serious research as well as my quietly flamboyant outreach in clearing Germany of false atrocity claims. Among themselves, they would collect donations to help offset my court costs and courier the money to me the next day.
The rumor eventually sprang up that it was “Nazi gold” that financed my trials, but that is not true - wish it were! In addition to my Huntsville connection, it was largely little old ladies in running shoes world-wide who had lost fathers, husbands, brothers, sons, and lovers on the Eastern Front - who understood why the Cause of giving honor back to Germany became ever more sacred to me.
I had found my life’s purpose. It consumed my every waking hour. For decades. But I am getting ahead of myself. Let me not lose sight of Ingrid’s VT friends’ concern as stated and implied:
ï First, is it possible that there exists an underground, super-secret German spy agency similar to the CIA or NSA that survived the war, which is now taking care of “Nazi interests” globally?
ï Second, and more importantly: Should we not fear that some of these off-planet scientists’ descendants - assuming there are any still around - now interface with sympathetic earth-bound entities in mutual assistance programs, perhaps sharing advanced technology in exchange for political protection?
ï And third, let’s put the snake right on the table - can these demonic “Nazis” our Western mainstream media has burned into our brains as utterly beyond redemption ever again be fully trusted? God may forbid that such a “Fourth Reich” force exists - but if it exists, is it to be feared by all mankind as the ultimate threat to the globe?
You asked for my opinion, and I am giving it to you. For my own safety I must stress that what I say is merely conjecture, but based on my intimate knowledge of the soul essence of those scientific geniuses I once knew. I also want to state with emphasis that I don’t get any privileged intelligence briefings from Mars or from the dark side of the moon - or elsewhere. But now, after seven years of incarceration in six prisons in three countries on two continents, I am allowed a limited version of “freedom.” I do get many visitors - authors, researchers, publishers, politicians, police investigators - you name it. They tell me things. I listen.
I take it for granted that, independent of the Paperclip scientists who stayed on earth and did their work on earth, there was a substantial scientific national-socialist substratum that survived the war and left defeated Germany, settling elsewhere, eventually maybe even off-planet. The bread crumbs for such a clandestine post-war development are all over the net in ever more documentaries out of Russia, Poland - but especially the USA.
There was indeed an orderly, organized retreat of top level German scientists and name recognition political leaders, collectively known as the Absatzbewegung - nothing to do with the Abwehr! - in the last years of war and after the war - first in submarines to Latin America, then on into the icy depths of unexplored Antarctica, and maybe eventually even off-planet places to preserve for posterity some of the innovations and discoveries initiated in the spectacular early days of the Third Reich. Based on my numerous contacts in the early post-war era with people in-the-know, as well as careful research since, I know this for a fact.
And just think of what was accomplished before these gifted scientist had to leave! Six years of peace is all they had - and look at the results! Countless documents, most classified but some in the public domain, as well as credible witness stories, bear this out that they made extraordinary contributions of benefit in our times. It gives me comfort thinking our planetary Expat brothers of Third Reich vintage are “out there” to this day.
Do they have revenge on their brains against earthlings, as our post-WWII Marxist scribblers have made us believe? I don’t think so. In our savagely politically correct era, I can only speak in generalities. I have never been contacted by any off-planet Expats with details, and I have no idea if there is any action plan that would give cause to have our Marxist power structure tremble in their socks. I can only give you my conclusions knowing what I know of the Allied-captured scientists that I knew - where they would, and did, focus their professional priorities.
Let me explain with an analogy to give you a comparison. I speak of feudal times - that European era of centuries ago when our forebears, driven off their native soil by dire political wrongs, were forced to settle elsewhere. What did they do? They abandoned a feudal political system that had been cruel and abusive to them. They had no choice in the matter. They found themselves another place to stay. They emigrated there.
Did they spend the next three generations planning a pitiless comeback to finish off the European Royals who had done them so much harm? Of course not. Why would they? Why waste their own offspring on wars of revenge? They did what Aryans do - they looked forward. They took in the measure of an entire continent from sea to shining sea, and they beheld its possibilities.
They next devised a geopolitical system that was a novelty for its own times. Unheard of. Providentially conceived. A Nation of Laws. A Constitution with its built-in checks and balances. Amendments such as the freedom to speak and assemble. The right to face your accuser. The right to bear arms. The right to be free from bodily seizure. The right to vote a government in, and to vote a government out. In short, they created a magnificent prototype - the United States of America as it has since become known. Their system in its era was a marvel to behold and emulate - until the Marxists were allowed in to ruin it. That’s what we experience today.
That blueprint for such an achievement was in their magnanimous genes. It’s called their Ahnenerbe - the genetic bequest of our forebears, long dead, to fulfill our people’s destiny, to never stop until they storm the heavens as destined conquerors from earth.
Here’s what is important to know: Our mythical space relatives, who - driven out of Europe - allegedly chose a new home for themselves and their offspring off-planet, had a head start on us earthlings - for two reasons. They did not have to be assaulted by a harmful Marxist ideology that strikes down the best in order to cuddle the scum - and, just as importantly, they were a genetically related people who packed their core values to take on their long voyage with practically no interference from strangers.
What might they have found? A sparkling new frontier. Just think of the Cosmos - with its unlimited reach and ample opportunities. And this time it’s not hoes and spades and horse-and-buggy times - it’s rescued blueprints from a nascent system that was to be applied to worlds to come that we can barely fathom - new concepts of a way of life so novel and spectacular it takes our breath away.
Free energy. Longevity. Unlimited vitality to improvise, invent, create, improve. Why would they waste themselves to plot and scheme to destroy? They would much rather fashion living space precisely to their liking. They wouldn’t yammer the past into frazzles with the help of rapacious grievance committees and such - demanding restitution payments forever for “crimes” that have long been disproven!
What would their feelings be today regarding this planet called earth? I am just guessing here. It’s their planet, too. It’s still their Heimatland where the bones of their ancestors rest. It’s occupied now on the surface by a murderous spirit that is not of this world, but it won’t be forever! Believe me!
Might they not want to visit and impart what they know? Some years ago, Gordon sent Ingrid a note, recalled from memory: “We have technical know-how for which no footprint exists.” I can think of several countries where transfer of knowledge might have occurred. China? Russia? Why, suddenly, are former/present Communist countries so far ahead of the US - with NASA but a shadow of its former self and fraying at the edges?
I shocked Ingrid by saying that China is, for all intents and purposes “Ö a national-socialist state under the Hammer and Sickle.” So is emerging Russia under Putin, except for its archaic “Öurrah!” you hear them shout on May 9 at their WWII victory celebrations. Why would they do that? Camouflage? Shame on their lack of chivalry, I say!
We Aryan earthlings are in a spiritual war of unlike beings fighting for survival on one of the smallest planets in the entire universe.
What’s really lacking here in all the frantic worries about the rowdy Nazis about to even out a score is an unbiased understanding of what a Third Reich ideology was really all about - and what an advanced social/political system based on a time that is no more might look like.
The Third Reich never was a deadly ideology of crazed “supremacists.” It was a social program requiring a disciplined lifestyle in accord of what Nature dictates, which did include the undeniable reality of race. Clean living. Clear thinking. Examining harmful assumptions. Giving credit where credit was due.
It also had to do with removing the sources of age-old miseries - such as the scourge called usury, poor health, cramped living conditions, filth in the arts and in language, unnecessary obstacles against those who produce versus those who consume and destroy. A people’s commonality. Its Ahnenerbe. It had nothing to do with lording it over “lesser” human beings, or stealing territorial space, or uncalled-for hubris by fools running jackboots all over the place while flashing swastikas.
And this as well: there was no room for a Marxist agenda. There was no patience with endless palavers that wasted time and energy, no patience with lukewarm apostles philosophizing on “equality” in places such as Brussels.
“Equality,” the Marxist battle cry, is a political ideal. It’s not scientific fact.
Right now, if Nazis still exist in an organized fashion, you can be sure they are not masters of the underworld, vile and perverted, with mayhem in their veins and fury in their hearts. That’s psychological false-flagging.
These German scientists and leaders of long ago were never wholesale criminals against humanity as Marxists will have you believe. It was a meritorious system with goals and boundaries for a brotherly, disciplined Volk - and no patience with Marxist apostles who preach “democracy” while sharpening their knives in endless class wars and bloody revolutions all over the world.
Which does not mean that the Third Reich powers that might have survived - if they did! - would take yet one more Marxist confrontation lying down.
Let me conclude with an analogy that landed yesterday on Ingrid’s desk, articulated by one of America’s burgeoning National Rifle Association disciples:
“American conservatives own 200+ million guns, 12 trillion rounds of ammo. If we were violent, you’d know it!”
If our off-planet cousins meant harm to you and me, you’d know it.
Wetbacks in Reverse? Ernst Zundel banned forever from the Land of the Free
"Give us your huddled masses yearning to breathe free"
[ Note: After 14 years of legal wrangling at the cost of millions of dollars to both sides, the US government has ruled on discretionary grounds by an unelected bureaucrat named Ron Rosenberg, Chief, Administrative Appeals Office of the US Department of Homeland Security, that Ernst Z¸ndel is banned from joining his family in the US.
According to this ruling, a dissident contesting a disputed historical claim such as the “Auschwitz gassing” is now a “Öcriminal of moral turpitude.” Can it get any more Kafkaesque?
More will be said about this latest Zundel development at a later time. For now, here is the latest installment of the ever-expanding Global Zundel-SagaÖ Ingrid Zundel ]
Ernst Zundel, in his own words:
Ernst and Ingrid Zundel: Wetbacks in Reverse?
Within hours of my illegal arrest in February 2003, fourteen years ago, I had been given an expulsion order with stiff penalties, should I dare to set foot in America ever again in the future. Should I be so brazen as to attempt a re-entry and be caught, I was to be arrested “forthwith”, detained, tried, and found guilty - and put in prison to face a 20-year sentence as an illegal “re-offender.”
Not only that, I risked a $250,000 fine for being such a fire-breathing dissident insisting on free speech on a forbidden topic - all this still in handcuffs, without being allowed to at least see an immigration judge to explain that I was not an “illegal” - I had been in the immigration “pipeline” to be admitted to legal residence as a relative to an American citizen wife.
I had been given a social security number, a health check, two FBI checks that cleared me of any wrong-doing, inoculations, a work permit, a travel permit - the works! Not that any of this mattered at this point in the more than decades-long legal nightmare that followed. I was convicted despite all airtight evidence that I was not a “visa overstay” as had been falsely claimed.
Once I had served my time of seven years in six prisons in three countries on two continents for having asked “Did Six Million Really Die” - and after having successfully passed my probation hurdle of an additional three years - I was left, more or less, to my own devices.
My passport had been given back to me. It allowed me to travel to Russia, Spain, Italy, France, Austria, Poland, Belgium, Switzerland and elsewhere, visiting friends and loyal supporters, always wondering when the next trap would fall shut on me - what other judicial injustice was waiting.
I also tried to see Ingrid at least twice a year, always in some dishevelled Third World country. When traveling to Belize, the Dominican Republic, Mexico etc. to meet Ingrid - who cannot travel to Europe because we know for certain there were at least two Interpol arrest warrants out for her as well because of her Zundelsite/Internet work - I usually had to overfly Canada and the USA.
On this latest trip on March 15, as I wistfully looked down on the plane at the outboard display, crossing Greenland, Island, Quebec, New York State - and moseying along the Eastern seaboard and then inland, almost reaching Tennessee - I wondered what would happen to me if the plane was, in fact, forced to make an emergency landing in the United States or Canada.
There was this possibility. This threat was looming against me in the background. What if something happened mechanically to the plane and I was forced to step onto the so-called “free-est country in the world” - and be re-arrested?
Thus, when I boarded the Condor flight on the 15th of March to Cancun where Ingrid was waiting for me, I was keenly aware that I was entering a danger zone. This was a daylight flight - unlike other Condor flights I had been on where I could at least sleep through the night. These long, non-stop international flights are hard on my body and psyche. By the time yet another new Z¸ndel drama unfolded, I hadnít slept for almost 30 hours.
As I looked out of the airplane window, I saw a shadowy, bluish fog of sorts that seemed to come out of a small crack of one of these jumbo-jet wings that kept us afloat. I watched it for a while, unease on my mind. It didnít go away - it just curled into itself and dissolved.
Suddenly, there was a crackled message from the Captain in the cockpit announcing that we were experiencing difficulty with the planeís fuel gauges, which seemed to be malfunctioning. This meant, the Captain informed us in a terse voice, that we would have to make an unscheduled emergency landing “Ö at the nearest US airport.”
Here was what I had always feared!
This “nearest airport” turned out to be an airstrip in St. Louis, MO, not exactly a home base for large passenger jets. As we descended, I could see the tarmac, old and run-down, with grass growing out of its crevices! With white knuckles, we all held onto our seats. After one of the roughest landings I have ever experienced, we rolled to a stop and were asked to deplane, using a rickety ladder, flanked by several dozen US firefighters in full gear - all of them huge, nice, friendly men next to their flashing fire trucks. Clearly we had landed in the backwoods somewhere of the USA - and here I was, being asked to step down onto the hallowed soil of “the free-est country in the world” - risking yet another 20 years in gaol!
I knew that the Captain had no choice but to alert US Homeland Security and the border police of my illegal entry status. I rang for the flight attendant to let her know about my predicament - that my very presence in the US might cause an “international incident,” as they like to say in legalese. She looked at me, incredulous. Who was that placid senior citizen who looked as normal and as harmless as can be?
She scurried to inform the folks in the cockpit.
Next, the Captain came to see me, wanting to know what, exactly, I had done. I told him I was being punished for spreading historical truth - I had published a booklet with a politically incorrect question mark the Global Noisy Lobby didnít like. He was shaking his head, looking doubtful. He, too, was left speechless, not knowing what next to do with this senior citizen passenger, almost 80 years of age, who sat there, smiling blithely, expecting to be handcuffed so as not to threaten the almighty USA!
I was the last to deplane. I was flanked by two huge black border guards, armed to the teeth. Off we marched, with me giving the thumbs-up sign to some 250+ co-passengers who stepped aside to let us through, bewildered and aghast. Everybody stared at me as though I had come from the moon.
This emergency landing clearly overwhelmed the airport personnel, and we had to wait for hours in a rundown, seedy reception area out of the 1950s. The two guards stayed by my side as though glued to my hips, and there was enough time to have a little friendly chat in the meantime. This was not the first time that I had entertained my captors with my woes as well as some hilarious highlights of my intrepid dissident past - and by the time it was my turn to have my passport checked, the three of us had now become fast friends.
Next, we were told US authorities were going to admit us “legally” into the US - as visitors! Fat chance for me, I thought! All the while, I feared, I might be sent back to the Vaterland. I crossed my fingers and toes in hopes that would not happen. But luck was on my side. I, too, was bureaucratically “paroled” into Missouri, USA - a minor miracle!
At first it looked like the fuel line problem could be easily repaired, and that we could fly on to Cancun. However, the mechanical problems were too difficult for the local mechanics to fix, and it was decided to order a replacement plane from Germany. That would take another 12 - 13 hours - with me getting ever more groggy from lack of sleep, lack of food and drink, and a simmering, low-level anxiety that sat in the pit of my heart.
Meanwhile, our passports were scanned; finger prints and iris scans were made of each passenger; and of course, thanks to Internet bio information about me that had been surreptitiously studied by the American authorities as well as several passengers, I took on ever more the trappings of an heroic global dissident celebrity.
I began to be treated not just with curiosity but with an open, smiling reverence by black and white alike. I will always remember a few of them with great fondness - for instance, a tall, handsome Mexican-American veteran, with decades of experience in the US military, as well as a picture-book tall, blue-eyed Aryan from the Midwest, coming from a family of nine children.
All of them were super-correct in their treatment of me - very helpful and accommodating. I told them that I felt homesick for my beloved little art gallery in the Tennessee Mountains - and being so near to where Ingrid and I had our place.
Those uniformed, battle-hardened men seemed visibly moved. There sat a real live, officially criminalized White Supremacist-Holocaust-denying-Hate-monger among otherwise perfectly normal people, looking and talking exactly like them! “A criminal of moral turpitude” is how the US government documents described me!
Once again, I was the last one to be checked before having been granted “parole”, and promptly taken to a room for secondary screening. This procedure took several more hours of interviews by security people, and in the end, I was patted down and thoroughly searched, all my belongings, my money, my address book seized - and I was taken to a holding cell, windowless, brightly illuminated - the kind that I had already experienced in my decades-long travails while battling one of the worldís most vicious political lobbies.
The personnel who checked me into this cell seemed ashamed of what they were ordered to do - and fell all over themselves letting me know that they did not approve of this travesty - and were simply following Homeland Security orders.
I was given some small pillows, two bright yellow FEMA blankets to avoid hypothermia, and my two black, uniformed police or border guards, still armed to the teeth, told me that this was going to be my home until the replacement plane from Germany had arrived.
Soon additional, ever-so-friendly American guards came with three bottles of water, some potato chips and a hearty ham sandwich. No Muslim terrorist, this one, expecting special dietary favors!
It was long after midnight. I slept a little, in spite of the bright lights. There was a video camera on the ceiling, the usual surveillance equipment.
The hours passed slowly. After a while, two officers came to see me for an update. They told me that the plane from Germany was experiencing strong headwinds and would again be several hours later than expected.
The night shift changed to the day shift, and familiar faces - officers I had talked with before in the waiting room - came to take over. Obviously, they too had checked up on me on the Net. They brought me a tooth brush and toothpaste, and a little later, to my utter surprise, a piping hot pizza and a delicious California salad, along with more water and even a Coca Cola - crowning this “hatemonger” prison fare feast with a piece of delicious blueberry pie.
To my relief, there was no attempt to send me back to Germany - and once the plane arrived, we were all processed one more time and allowed to board the replacement Condor plane. It was about 8:30 pm, March 16, by the time we took off to Cancun!
I did not have a telephone number for Ingrid, since no phone had been as yet installed in our little home in Mexico. I cleared the Mexican customs, got all the proper stamps, took an airport taxi and arrived at the door of my very relieved American citizen lady - who greeted me with “Am I happy to see you!”
We had lots to tell each other long after midnight - wrapped in two bright yellow FEMA blankets I had asked to have as souvenirs, which the guards had allowed me to keep.
For a background summary of Ernst Zundelís political outreach, please read Mark Weberís excellent essay as published by the Institute for Historical Review: