Into the Darkness : Chapter 6: Vienna and Bratislava

 

 

Into the Darkness:

 

An Uncensored Report from

 

Inside the Third Reich at War

 

by Lothrop Stoddard

 

Chapter 6: Vienna and Bratislava

 

About a fortnight after my arrival in Germany I had an opportunity to secure two worth­while interviews away from Berlin. The first was with General Loehr, Commander­ in­ Chief of the Air­Arm at Vienna. The second was with Father Joseph Tiso, newly elected President of the equally new Slovak Republic, at his capital, Bratislava. Neither had as yet been interviewed by an American journalist.

 

Since I was to be the guest of the Air Ministry, an army transport plane had been placed at my disposal.

 

Accordingly, I motored out to Berlin’s main airport, accompanied by a major of the Air­Arm who was to be with me on the journey. A pleasant­ faced Hanoverian in his mid­-forties, he proved to be an agreeable companion.

 


Junker Ju 52 transport plane

 

The tri­motored, slate­gray plane took off on schedule, and we soon rose above the ground­haze into the clear air of a crisp autumn morning. Flying at about 2,000 feet, we skimmed swiftly over the flat plains of North Germany ­ an endless patchwork of forest and farmland, interspersed with lakes and dotted with villages or towns. The sky was cloudless until we approached the Bohemian Mountains, when we encountered a billowing wave of white pouring like a giant cataract onto the Saxon plain. Rising steeply above this cloud­sea, we lost sight of earth during most of our flight over Bohemia. Only now and then did I catch a glimpse of the Protectorate through a rift in the white veil. I had a quick sight of Prague. Its palace­-citadel looked like a toy castle. The river Moldau was a silvery ribbon winding across the landscape.

 

Continue reading

Posted in Bk - Into the Darkness - Stoddard, Bratislava, Father Josef Tiso, Hitler, Lothrop Stoddard, National Socialism, Vienna | Tagged , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Into the Darkness : Chapter 5: This Detested War

 

 

Into the Darkness:

 

An Uncensored Report from

 

Inside the Third Reich at War

 

by Lothrop Stoddard

 

 

 

Chapter 5: This Detested War

 

The Germans detest this war. That was the ever ­deepening impression I got throughout my stay in the Third Reich. Wherever I went, it was the same story. Public opinion in Berlin about the war tallied with what I found in my travels through West­ Central Germany as far as the Rhineland and the North Sea Coast, and through South Germany to Vienna. This attitude is shared by Nazis and non ­Nazis. On this point there is no difference between them.

 

Yet we should clearly understand the reason for this agreement. It is not founded on moral opposition to war as such. In the Third Reich, pacifism is akin to treason. Such genuine pacifists as may still exist there outside of concentration camps are so carefully camouflaged that, like Arctic hares in winter, they cannot be detected against the landscape.

 

German aversion to the present war, therefore, though general and genuine, is due to strictly practical reasons. What maddens the Germans is that they are obliged to fight desperately in order to keep what they now hold. During the past three years they have marched with giant strides toward the realization of one of their oldest dreams ­ the domination of Central Europe. Long before Hitler was even heard of, Mittel­Europa was a phrase to conjure with. Rightly or wrongly, most Germans believe that hegemony over mid-­Europe is necessary for their national future. As often happens in such cases, they have “rationalized” their desire until they have come to think it their just due. So whatever is done to achieve this goal seems to Germans quite right and proper.

 

Continue reading

Posted in Bk - Into the Darkness - Stoddard, Goebbels, Lothrop Stoddard | Tagged , , | 4 Comments

If Hitler Won WW II We Would Have A Better, More Just World Today

If Hitler Won World War II We Would Have

A Better, More Just World Today

 

By James Miller

 

Legendary U.S. General George S. Patton realized late in the war that the United States fought the wrong country. Patton felt the U.S. should have sided with Germany to destroy Jewish Bolshevik/Communist USSR. This information comes from Patton’s diary entries, letters he wrote to his wife, and comments he made to military officers and staff.

World War II was incredibly complex. However, in the final analysis, WWII was essentially a war between two competing ideologies: Nationalism-vs-Jewish Internationalism/globalism. Adolf Hitler and his allies fought to preserve the concept of Nationalism, not just for Germans but for all peoples the world over. Nationalism really just means the sovereignty of an ethnic people and the right of such ethnic people/nationalists within their own bordered country to self-determination. What is meant by self-determination? Self-determination just means an ethnic people preserving their unique culture and heritage and pursuing their collective goals as a unique people.

On the other side of WWII was Jewish Bolshevik Internationalism (today we just call this globalism ). This is the Jewish worldview (or rather, plan) to eventually eliminate all nations except for a Jewish homeland… (what was later to be after WWII the nation of Israel in 1948). Jewish Internationalism/globalism seeks to eventually merge all peoples in the world into one globalist system with a global government, global bank, global currency, etc. In short, Jewish globalism (i.e., the weakening and eventual elimination of all nations) is the exact opposite of Nationalism (i.e., a world composed of nations). The Allied powers of WWII (led by Roosevelt, Churchill, Stalin, et al.) were tools of International Jewry and thus de facto fighting for the Jewish globalist worldview. After the (Jewish run) Allies won WWII in 1945, International Jewish forces were then free to exercise a Jewish Sphere of Influence over the greater Western World (and as we see today, increasingly over the rest of the world).

Alternatively, if Hitler had won World War II and then exercised a Nationalist Sphere of Influence over the greater Western World, we’d have a more just, fair, and moral Western World today. The rest of the world would have similarly benefited had the Germans been victorious since German influence would have surely spread elsewhere (ideas such as non-usurious banking and strong family oriented culture would likely have spread globally).

Had Hitler won World War II, what would be different in the post war world?

Here are a few examples:

1. No USSR (The Soviet government murdered millions of its own people during its 70 year reign. To study this topic read the writings of Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn; Hitler would have liberated the USSR, though taking large parts of its Western region for lebensraum, living space ).

2. No Cold War (because there would be no USSR).

3. No Communist Eastern Europe/Iron Curtain (when WWII ended, Eastern Europe fell to Communism this was part of Stalin’s spoils of war).

4. No Red China and Mao’s subsequent killing of 40 – 60 million Chinese (the USSR created favorable conditions for Mao’s Communists which ultimately led to Mao’s victory over Chiang Kai-shek’s Nationalists in 1949, thus if no USSR, no Mao victory).

5. No Communist North Vietnam (both the Soviet Union and Red China aided Ho Chi Minh).

6. No Communist Cambodia and Pol Pot’s slaughter of 2 million Cambodians (Red China aided Pol Pot).

7. No dividing Korea into North Korea and South Korea (the allies split Korea after WWII ended, with North Korea becoming Communist… another of Stalin’s spoils of war).

8. No Communist Cuba (given the previous, what support would Castro have had in the 1950s?)

9. No Communism anywhere (Hitler was the world’s most fervent anti — Communist).

10. Liberalism and multiculturalism wouldn’t dominate Western ethos (both are Jewish creations and both have always been heavily promoted/advanced by Jews; thus if no Jewish influence, then no liberalism and no multiculturalism… at least certainly nowhere near the degree we see today).

11. No Cultural Marxism and no political correctness (these are social engineering tools which came out of the Jewish think tank known as the Frankfurt School).

12. No third world immigration into Western nations (Jews wouldn’t be in power positions to craft and force through liberal immigration laws; Jews are responsible for each Western nation’s liberal immigration policy, as most were orchestrated by the World Jewish Congress).

13. No depraved filth on TV, in movies, etc. (because Jews wouldn’t run Hollywood).

14. No widespread pornography (Jewish lawyers and Jewish activists were the main challengers of anti-obscenity laws, under the guise of Freedom of Speech).

15. There would still be prayer in public schools (Jewish lawyers were instrumental in banning prayer in public schools under the guise of so-called separation of church and state, something that appears nowhere in the U.S. Constitution).

16. No man-hating radical feminist movement (Jews such as Betty Friedan, Sonia Pressman, and Gloria Steinem, among others, were the key drivers of radical feminism).

17. No Israel and all the problems it has brought the USA and the immeasurable misery it has wrought on the Palestinians.

18. Jews would be living in Madagascar (perhaps) and would be carefully monitored (Madagascar was one place Hitler considered as a Jewish homeland).

Many reading this will ask, but what about the Holocaust?

The Holocaust has been grossly exaggerated by organized Jewry in order to create sympathy for Jews worldwide and thus help advance the Jewish agenda (i.e., people seen as victims tend to get their way). It is also used as a political weapon to justify Israeli militarism against the Palestinians. Hitler’s Final Solution (rebranded in the early 1970’s as the Holocaust ) was a plan to remove Jews from Europe, not to kill them. During WWII, just as the U.S. couldn’t trust Japanese Americans, thus causing FDR to round many of them up and place them in concentration camps, Hitler couldn’t trust Jews since many were partisans sympathetic to the USSR and hence they aided the USSR in various subversive, anti-German activities. Therefore the Nazis rounded up Jews and placed them in concentration camps.

Somewhere around one million Jews died during WWII (not six million) mostly due to disease and starvation in the final months of the war. Heavy Allied bombing of Germany and parts of German occupied Europe destroyed many roads, rail lines, and bridges making it impossible for Germany to adequately supply the camps with food and medicine. The result is that many Jews died of starvation and disease; and of course many non-Jews also died of starvation and disease (again, due to a massive Allied bombing campaign and its destruction of German transportation infrastructure). Lastly, there were no gas chambers. Much has been written about this. To study the gas chamber subject, read the research papers published by Germar Rudolf and Carlo Mattogno (there are many others as well). To get a broad overview of the Holocaust, read my article, What Was The Holocaust… What Actually Happened?

It should also be noted that Hitler never wanted to conquer the world. He simply wanted to safeguard Europe and the greater Western World from all manner of nefarious Jewish influence and, more broadly, safeguard the world-at-large specifically from;

1) usurious Jewish banking and,
2) Jewish-driven cultural degradation.

As previously stated, the Allied heads-of-State (Roosevelt, Churchill, et al.) were puppets of International Jewry; each sold his soul for power and prestige. Again, as earlier stated, World War II was a war between two competing ideologies: Nationalism-vs-Jewish Bolshevik Internationalism/globalism unfortunately International Jewry won.

Was World War II the good war? No, it was exactly the opposite. The Allied victory marked the beginning of the end of Western Civilization.




US General George Patton eventually realized that America fought the wrong nation in World War II.

 

—————————-

 

Version History

 

Version 2: Apr 14, 2020 — Re-uploaded images for katana17.com/wp/ version.

 

Version 1: Published May 18 2013 – Text and some pics added.

Posted in Gen. George Patton, Germany, Globalism, Hitler, Jews, Western Civilization, WW II | Tagged , | 4 Comments

Into the Darkness : Chapter 4: Junketing Through Germany

 

 

Into the Darkness:

 

An Uncensored Report from

 

Inside the Third Reich at War

 

by Lothrop Stoddard

 

 

 

Chapter 4: Junketing Through Germany

 

At the very first press conference I attended at the Propaganda Ministry we were informed that a trip was being arranged for foreign correspondents and all who wished to go were asked to register. It was to be a three-day journey through Central Germany and the northern Rhineland. Its purpose was to observe the “Inner Front“; how the peasants and industrial workers were doing their bit to carry on the war.

 

“I advise you to come along,” said an American colleague with whom I sat. “I can’t vouch for how much they’ll show us, but you’ll see quite a bit of the country, and then you’ll get to know a good many of the press corps. That alone should make the trip worth while for you.”

 

Accordingly, the fourth day after my arrival in Berlin found me ready to take the road again. Noon saw about forty journalists assembled with light luggage at the Propaganda Ministry. Ours was a cosmopolitan group, drawn mostly from European lands, together with five Americans, two Japanese, and an Egyptian with crinkly hair and complexion cafe au lait. A lone Danish lady journalist, rather pretty and on the bright side of thirty, had ventured to join this phalanx of masculinity. Having observed her at several press conferences, I judged her capable of taking care of herself in any circumstances likely to arise.

 

We were welcomed by a bevy of officials, some of whom would accompany us. After a fulsome speech, our itinerary was read out, telling just where we were going and what we were to see and do. Before starting on a sightseeing trip, Germans apparently like to have everything worked out down to the last detail. Good staff work, yet sometimes a bit trying; since, under no circumstances, can there be the slightest deviation from the plan prescribed.

 

After the oratory had ended we were bidden to fall to on several platters heaped high with sandwiches, which graced the long table about which we were standing. One of the things you quickly learn in Germany is to eat whenever eatables come your way. Food restrictions and uncertainties soon develop in you a sort of psychological hunger which is never wholly out of your mind. So we did full justice to this buffet lunch.

 

1940s era German buses

 

Leaving the festive board we descended to the street, where we found awaiting us two enormous sightseeing buses into which we climbed. We Americans had kept together, so we were all seated in Bus Number One. Near me were seated a Belgian, a Dutch, and a Hungarian journalist. Swinging out by Unter den Linden and thence to Potsdam, we presently found ourselves on one of the Third Reich’s famous motor roads. Mile on mile the twin ribbons of concrete stretched before us, separated always by a broad grassy strip. No crossings to look out for, since all intersecting roads and railways are taken care of by over ­ or underpass. Yet this magnificent highway was virtually empty of traffic. With all private motoring forbidden, official cars, army camions or commercial trucks were almost its sole occupants.

 

An Autobahn

 

Every few miles I noted a combined restaurant and filling­ station tastefully built. About mid­afternoon we stopped at one of them for another meal. Incipient hunger was assuaged with hot frankfurters and sauerkraut, cold ham, cheese, and rye bread, washed down with plenty of schnapps and beer. Before proceeding on our way we were lined up before one of the buses and had our picture taken. Group photography is a German specialty, so this was repeated on every noteworthy occasion. Subsequently, each of us received the whole collection mounted in a handsome album, as a souvenir.

 

As our cavalcade rolled swiftly southwestward, the afternoon waned into misty twilight, and with the universal blackout we knew that there would be no bus lights for us. To brighten our spirits, a large carton in the rear of the bus was opened, revealing a case of brandy. Our hosts were indeed missing no opportunities to create a favorable impression. An attendant went up and down the aisle pouring drinks into paper cups. Pleased to find it was a good French brand, I expressed my appreciation to one of the Propaganda Ministry officials seated across the way. He smiled jovially, then winked, nodded toward the nearby carton, and whispered:

 

“Slip a bottle into your overcoat pocket while the going is good.”

 

Somebody started a song up ahead. The brandy was getting to work. My American seat mate slapped me on the knee.

 

“Looks like a good junket,” he chuckled somewhat cynically.

 

It was long after dark when our buses rolled through the blacked out streets of Weimar and halted before Haus Elefant. The Elephant House is the name of Weimar’s splendid new hotel. I understand it was built to accommodate the tourist trade to this picturesque old town, but now there are no tourists. That evening we were given a banquet presided over by the Gauleiter, or Provincial Governor of Thuringia, and attended by all the local Nazi notables. I sat next to him at table and thus had a chance to chat with him.

 

I liked that Gauleiter. He was very much a self-made man, having started as a sailor, literally “before the mast” on a windjammer. He was also self-educated, but he exemplified Lord Bacon’s dictum that much reading maketh a full man, because he had obviously digested his books. Although sincerely devoted to the Party’s program and policies, he did not parrot them forth in set phrases, as many Nazis do, but interpreted them with shrewd common sense.

 

I did not care much, however, for the other local notables. They looked to me like German equivalents of our own ward politicians. Few of them could have amounted to much before they landed a Party job. Even more revealing were their womenfolk, who joined us in the big hotel lounge for Ersatz coffee and liqueurs after the banquet was over. Most of them were pretentiously dowdy. They exemplified better than anything I had yet seen the fact that National Socialism is not merely a political and economic upheaval but a social revolution as well. To a very large extent it has brought the lower middle class into power. To be sure, one finds quite a few aristocrats and intellectuals in the Nazi regime.

 

Furthermore, there are plenty of Nazis sprung from peasant or worker stock, some of whom, like the Weimar Gauleiter, would rise in any society. Yet the lower middle class seems to be inordinately in evidence. One does not notice this so much in Berlin, because the ablest elements in the Party tend to gravitate to the seat of power. In the provinces the Spiessbuergertum comes much more to the front.

 

With our heavy schedule, we rose early and descended to an amazing breakfast for wartime Germany. I could hardly believe my eyes when they feasted themselves on plenteous eggs and butter unlimited. We were the guests of the Propaganda Ministry, so for us food restrictions were politely waived. One luxury, however, we did not get ­ real coffee. That tabu was seemingly unbreakable.

 

With the inner man thus fortified we climbed into our buses,  toured Weimar briefly to glimpse its historic sights, and took to the highroad once more. Just outside of town we were delayed by a long caravan of army trucks, crammed with everything from supplies and field kitchens to troops and machine­guns. Flanked by convoys of sputtering motorcycles, they thundered endlessly past. Everything was slate­ gray.

 

The autobahn system in 1941 (click to enlarge)

 

All that morning we motored through the hills and valleys of Thuringia, a charming countryside dotted with mellow villages and clean little towns. Peasants and townsfolk alike looked well fed and warmly clad. The many children who waved to our passing were rosy­ cheeked and smiling. The day was unseasonably cold. Snow powdered even the lower hills.

 

 

Junketing through Germany

 

Shortly after noon we reached the Wartburg. For nearly two hours we were herded through the historic place like holiday trippers while we were shown every last detail down to the exact spot on the wall where Martin Luther’s inkstand is supposed to have missed the devil. I got distinctly bored. I wasn’t in Germany for sightseeing, and I knew the Wartburg of old. I wanted to be shown peasants, farms, dairies, cold­ storage plants ­ the rural sector of that “Inner Front” we had heard so much about. But apparently we weren’t going to be shown.

 

Wartburg Castle overlooking Eisenach, Thuringia

 

I said as much to one of our official guides. He assured me that I would see peasants that very evening. It was all nicely arranged. So we rolled through country growing ever more hilly until darkness overtook us on the slopes of the Sauerland Mountains. Soon we arrived at what had originally been a large farmstead, now transformed into an inn. As we sat down to a bounteous country supper, in walked our peasants. They were the real articles, all right: sturdy, weather beaten men, washed and dressed up for the occasion yet still exhaling a faint aroma of livestock. A couple of them were assigned to each table, and I was fortunate enough to have a fine old fellow for my right-hand neighbor. In rural Germany they have a habit of sandwiching schnapps and beer, which makes a potent combination, and we soon got on famously. After several rounds, my companion waxed garrulous and began to air his views on several subjects, including the war. Before he had got far, however, a young servingman bent down and muttered in his ear:

 

“Gaffer, you’ve had a lot to drink. Bridle your tongue!”

 

Thereafter he kept to safer topics.

 

Farmstead in the Sauerland Mountains

 

In mid­-evening we left our bucolic partners and motored on to a fine new winter­ sports hotel perched on the summit of the range, where we were to spend the night. Here winter had already come, though it was only the beginning of November. The ground was well covered with snow, and more was falling, whipped by a biting wind.

 

Next morning we were again up bright and early, and after another “off the record” breakfast our buses plowed through snow­ clogged mountain roads which wound downwards through fine forests until we emerged from the mountains and struck out into the Westphalian plains. Quaint timbered brick farmsteads and villages gave place to industrial towns until we were fairly into Germany’s “black country,” the industrial ganglion of the Rhineland, dotted with factories and murky with coal smoke. Snow had long since been left behind. The autumn day, as usual, was cloudy with spits of rain.

 

We grazed the outskirts of Cologne but got only a distant glimpse of its twin­ towered cathedral. Our destination was Duesseldorf, where we were promised the most interesting feature of the trip. This was a luncheon with the workers at the big Henkel Soap Products factory. We were to hobnob with them at their noon hour, share their food, and generally get acquainted. After the meal we and the workers were to be addressed by none other than Dr. Robert Ley, head of the Labor Front, the organization which welds all the workers of the Third Reich into a gigantic whole. A sort of Nazi One Big Union.

 

Henkel factory, Dusseldorf

 

With Teutonic punctuality, our buses drew up before the Henkel factory at precisely the appointed hour. After a brief reception by the managerial staff we repaired to the dining hall, an enormous place capable of holding over a thousand people. The workers, about equally divided between men and women, were already pouring in. They were in their work clothes; the men in dark overalls, the women mostly in smocks. They had evidently washed up for lunch, for all looked neat and clean. Besides, a soap factory ought not to be a very dirty place.

 

These working folk looked fairly healthy, though few of them had much color and many had pasty complexions. They seemed cheerful and smiled readily. I even noted some surreptitious sky larking between the young men and girls. However, it should be remembered that these were Rhinelanders, folk temperamentally freer and gayer than the stiff, dour Prussians to the eastward.

 

We journalists were mixed thoroughly with the workers. I sat at a table accommodating some twenty of them. Opposite me were three men: one a nondescript type, the second a hulking blond giant, the third a slim, darkish, handsome fellow who looked like a Frenchman. At my left hand sat a plain ­featured woman in middle life; at my right, a chunky little blonde girl in her late teens.

 

Hardly were we seated before a bevy of waitresses swept through the hall bearing large trays laden with plates of thick potato soup. The next course consisted of pork, red cabbage, and mixed vegetables, served in miniature platters with separate compartments. Slabs of rye bread went with the soup. It certainly was a hearty lunch, and well cooked. The meat gravy was good, and there was plenty of it. I could not finish all that was set before me.

 

My neighbors were obviously hungry and attended so strictly to the business of eating that conversation languished until toward the end of the meal. The girl beside me smilingly accepted one of my proffered cigarettes. Before I had time to invite the men across the table, each had produced a packet of his own and lit up. I then began asking a few tactful questions. They told me that this was an average luncheon, that they were working longer hours than before the war but were paid a bit extra for overtime, that part of the plant was being diverted to munitions, and that comparatively few men from the factory had as yet been called to the colors since so many of them were skilled workers. This was about all the information I got, since they were bent on asking me questions about America.

 

Suddenly a gong sounded and all eyes turned toward the center of the hall, where a rotund figure in a blue uniform had mounted one of the tables and was bowing smilingly to left and right in response to a growing ripple of applause. He was the great Dr. Ley. His rotund countenance was wreathed in smiles as he acknowledged the greeting.

 

Then he began speaking in a loud, rasping voice, addressing the assembled workers as “Soldiers of the Inner Front” and assuring them that their labors were as praiseworthy and vital to the conduct of the war as were deeds of valor on the battlefield. He then launched into a diatribe against England and its allegedly diabolical attempt to starve out the German people, including women and children, by the hunger blockade. A lurid picture of the terrible starvation years of the last war was followed by comforting reassurances that the Government had rendered such privations in the present struggle impossible because of careful preparations and methodical planning. Food cards might be annoying, but there was enough to go around and everyone, rich or poor, was assured of his or her rightful share. “This time,” he shouted, “we all eat out of the same dish!” He closed with an eloquent appeal to stand beside their inspired Fuehrer until complete and lasting victory had been won.

 

Dr. Robert Ley, leader of the German Labor Front (DAF)

 

It was a rousing speech, and it seemed to strike home. Those working folk listened with rapt attention, at the high points breaking into applause which was clearly spontaneous. Dr. Ley is obviously a good psychologist. He knows his audience. Certainly he was onto his job that day as head of the Labor Front.

 

When the speech was over and the workers had returned to their labors we correspondents were introduced to Dr. Ley and were then shown around the factory buildings in the usual detail. Needless to say, we did not see the munitions section to which my luncheon companion had casually alluded.

 

It was mid­-afternoon when we reached our hotel, one of the best in the city. With nothing officially scheduled until dinnertime, a number of us strolled about town. One of my acquaintances had a severe head cold and needed to buy some handkerchiefs. He could not buy ordinary cotton or linen ones, because that required a local clothing card. However, he finally found some expensive silk handkerchiefs which were “card­ free,” because they were Luxuswaren ­ luxury goods.

 

The dinner that night turned out to be a big banquet, with an excellent menu and vintage wines. Again the local Nazi notables were present, and they averaged better in appearance than those at Weimar. All but the Gauleiter. He was a distinctly sinister looking type; hard­ faced, with a cruel eye and a still crueler mouth. A sadist, if I ever saw one. I can imagine how unpopular he must be among the goodnatured, kindly Duesseldorfers.

 

The banquet was a lengthy affair, interspersed with speeches. Parenthetically, the German method of sandwiching food and speech seems to me a good idea; much better than our way of gobbling the entire menu and then sitting back to endure a long series of orations in a state of mingled repletion and boredom.

 

From the banquet room we descended to the blacked­ out street where, by the aid of electric torches, we got into our darkened buses and went some distance to witness a special entertainment given in our honor by the local organizations of Kraft durch Freude  (Strength Through Joy). Later on I shall describe this characteristic institution of the Third Reich in some detail.

 

Strength Through Joy poster 1939

 

Kraft durch Freude  (Strength Through Joy) symbol

 

Enough to say here that it is an elaborate system designed to brighten the lives of the working classes in various ways.

 

The program that evening, put on entirely by “local talent,” included choruses, group ­gymnastics, and vaudeville turns, most of the latter being pretty amateurish. The high spot in the program was a military band, which was really thrilling in its spirit and fire.

 

Next morning we could take things easy, since our train back to Berlin did not leave until noon. I therefore ordered breakfast served in my room, and received not merely eggs but a whole platter of cold meats as well. The Propaganda Ministry was evidently determined to make our trip enjoyable to the very end! Our homeward journey was uneventful. We had a special car, but the stern realities of life were brought back to us when we went into the diner and had once more to use our food ­cards to obtain a meager and expensive lunch. The train did not reach Berlin until after dark. It was a misty evening. When I emerged from the station, I literally could not see my hand before my face. Not a taxi was to be had, and I was far from my hotel, so I would have to go by subway. The Berlin subway system is a complicated network which needs some knowing before you can find your way about, and I had quite forgotten the combination, especially as several new lines had been built since I was last there years before. Fortunately a colleague was going my way and came to my rescue.

 

As I walked up the flights of steps from the subway, leaving behind me a brilliantly lighted station redolent of modernity’s inventive genius, and barged into primeval darkness, it seemed to me symbolic of what this war was doing to European civilization. This, I reflected, was no local blackout. It stretched like a vast pall over three great nations and might soon spread to other lands as well. “Where, and when, and how would it end?” I reflected as I picked my way through the gloom and finally stumbled into the lobby of the Adlon.

 


 

Map of Germany today (click to enlarge)

 

 

Map of Germany expansion in the 1930s (click to enlarge).

 

 

 

———————————-

 

Click links to go2:

Book Reviews

Chapter 1: The Shadow

Chapter 2: Berlin Blackout

Chapter 3: Getting on with the Job

Chapter 4: Junketing Through Germany

Chapter 5: This Detested War

Chapter 6: Vienna and Bratislava

Chapter 7: Iron Rations

Chapter 8: A Berlin Lady Goes to Market

Chapter 9: The Battle of the Land

Chapter 10: The Labor Front

Chapter 11: The Army of the Spade

Chapter 12: Hitler Youth

Chapter 13: Women of the Third Reich

Chapter 14: Behind the Winter­Help

Chapter 15: Socialized Health

Chapter 16: In a Eugenics Court

Chapter 17: I See Hitler

Chapter 18: Mid­Winter Berlin

Chapter 19: Berlin to Budapest

Chapter 20: The Party

Chapter 21: The Totalitarian State

Chapter 22: Closed Doors

Chapter 23: Out of the Shadow

 


 

Into the Darkness: Chapter 4 (PDF). >> Into The Darkness – Chapt 04 – Junketing Through Germany

 

Version History

 

Version 8: Nov 21, 2020. Re-uploaded images and PDF for katana17.com/wp/ version. Improved formatting. New cover.

 

Version 7: Jun 17, 2015. Formatting changes.

 

Version 6: Nov 28, 2014. Added PDF file (Ver 2) of this post.

 

Version 5: Mon, Jun 9, 2014. Added PDF file of this chapter for download

 

Version 4: Wed, Feb 5, 2014. Added Chapter links.

 

Version 3: Mon, Jan 27, 2014. Quoted text italicized.

 

Version 2: Published May 15 2013 – More pics added.

 

Version 1: Published May 11 2013 – Text and some pics added.

Posted in Bk - Into the Darkness - Stoddard, Europe, Germany, Lothrop Stoddard, National Socialism, National Socialism - Philosphy, Nationalism, Propaganda - Anti-German, Revisionism, Robert Ley, Third Reich, Western Civilization, WW II | Tagged , | 4 Comments

Into the Darkness : Chapter 3 – Getting on with the Job

 

 

Into the Darkness:

 

An Uncensored Report from

 

Inside the Third Reich at War

 

by Lothrop Stoddard

 

 

 

Chapter 3: Getting on with the Job

 

I went to Europe as special correspondent of the North American Newspaper Alliance, a press syndicate with membership in the United States, Canada, and other parts of the world. My main field was Germany, with side­ glances elsewhere in Central Europe. Since N.A.N.A. is a feature service, my job was to study conditions, do interpretive or local color articles, and get important interviews. I was not professionally interested in spot news. To do a good job I had to have an open mind; so I did my best to park my private opinions on this side of the ocean. And since my return I’ve tried not to pick them up again. An objective attitude was made easier by the fact that the outbreak of the European War caught me in a place where it meant nothing except its effect on the price of sugar ­ Havana, Cuba.

 

Havana postcard, Cuba

 

Between a survey I was making with a Washington colleague, H. H. Stansbury, and the terrific heat I could pay scant attention to European affairs, which were badly covered in the Havana press. Everybody was absorbed in local politics. The Batista Government was getting ready to celebrate the anniversary of its revolutionary origin, the momentous date being September 4th. So Havana was all bedizened with flags and bunting, while across the harbor on Morro Castle and Cabanas Fortress rose huge transparencies bearing the legends: BATISTA and CUARTO SETIEMBRE electrically blazing forth o’nights in giant letters of fire. Then, just before the big party, Europe had to explode! Small wonder that it hardly made a dent on Cuban thinking, except the sugar phase.

 

However, it made a big dent on my mind. I had already canvassed the possibility of personally covering the German situation, for which I had certain qualifications such as an intermittent knowledge of the country since childhood and a working knowledge of the language. I had also followed German events regularly in my studies of foreign affairs. Therefore as soon as I could wind up my Cuban survey, I hurried home, reaching New York late in September. Three weeks afterwards I was on the Rex, Europe­bound. I thus arrived on the scene of action in an objective state of mind.

 

To get working quickly and efficiently, three things had to be done as soon as possible. First of all, I must present my credentials and acquire the permits needed by a foreign correspondent in wartime. Then I had to establish correct and personally amicable relations with the officials with whom I would be in contact. Last but not least, I should get on really friendly terms with the outstanding members of the foreign press corps ­ not merely the Americans but those of the other neutral nationalities stationed in Berlin. An experienced, capable foreign correspondent is your best source of information. He usually knows more and sees clearer than a diplomat of the same caliber. This is also true of certain long­ resident foreign professional or business men. Furthermore, both they and the correspondents can talk more freely to you. There are certain things which members of the diplomatic corps hesitate to discuss unreservedly with you even in the strictest “off the record.” Fortunately I was able to make a good start on all three lines the very first day after my arrival in Berlin.

 


Wilhelmstraße 74-76: The Foreign Office

 

Monday noon found me at the Foreign Office, halfway down the Wilhelmstrasse, where I was to attend the foreign press conference held there daily at this hour. These conferences are usually held in a large oblong room, elaborately paneled. Down the middle of this chamber runs an enormously long table covered with green baize. On one side of the table sit a line of Government officials drawn from both the Foreign Office and the Propaganda Ministry. One of these men is the Government spokesman for the day, who makes announcements and answers questions either directly or through some other official who is a specialist in the particular matter. On the other side of the table cluster the foreign correspondents, representing every neutral country in Europe, plus a few Orientals and a strong contingent of Americans. The average attendance runs between fifty and seventy, including several women journalists.

 

Personal relations between these Government spokesmen and the foreign correspondents are generally friendly and sometimes cordial. The officials are intelligent men specially picked for the business of tactfully handling foreign journalists. The correspondents are, for the most part, old hands who know how to play the game. So the conferences, which are conducted in German, usually go off smoothly, with humorous undertones as a shrewd query is met by an equally shrewd parry. These bits of repartee are often greeted by a general burst of laughter.

 

After the conference that morning I was introduced to the chief officials, and I likewise met several of our American press delegation to whom I had been recommended or with whom I was previously acquainted. The officials were nearly all university men, some with doctorate degrees. Those in the American Section were well fitted for their posts. Dr. Sallett, the Foreign Office contact man for Americans, had lived in the United States for years before he entered the diplomatic service and had done postgraduate work at Harvard. Dr. Froelich, head of the Propaganda Ministry’s American Bureau, has a Harvard Law School degree, while his junior colleague, Werner Asendorf, is a graduate of the University of Oregon. Both these men have American wives. The head of the entire Foreign Press Section, Dr. Boehme, is an engaging personality with a quick intelligence and cynical sense of humor, who has traveled widely in many lands including the United States. I felt from the first that here were men who knew us well and with whom one could get along harmoniously.

 

Reich Ministry of Public Enlightenment and Propaganda

 

That same afternoon I attended another foreign press conference, this time at the Propaganda Ministry. These conferences, likewise held every weekday, deal more with special topics than with spot news. Government specialists address the correspondents on current military, naval, or economic situations, while outstanding figures are produced for inspection. For instance, when a big aerial battle was fought over the North Sea, the squadron commander and his flying aces appeared before the foreign journalists to tell their side of the story and be questioned.

 

Before the inevitable blackout ended my first working day in Berlin I had been duly enrolled in the foreign press corps and had filed my application for a Press Wireless permit. This is the correspondent’s most important privilege. It enables him to file press despatches to his newspaper or syndicate, payment guaranteed at the other end. Furthermore, those despatches go through uncensored. I am sure of this, both from what I was told and from my own experience. For instance, I filed a despatch at a small substation as late as 6.15 P.M., Berlin Time (12.15 noon, Eastern Standard Time) and it appeared in all editions of the New York Times next morning. This would have been impossible if there had been even the short delay which a most cursory check­ up before putting the despatch on the wireless would have involved.

 

This brings up one of the most interesting aspects of wartime Germany ­ the system of handling foreign journalists. Right at the start I was told at the Propaganda Ministry just where I stood and what I could, and could not, write. Military and naval matters were, of course, severely circumscribed, together with topics such as sensational rumors obviously tending to discredit the German Government and give aid and comfort to its enemies. There was a sort of gentleman’s agreement with the correspondent that he would abide by rules laid down for his guidance. If he overstepped the line and a despatch, when published in his home paper, contained matter which the German authorities considered untrue, unfair, or otherwise unprofessional, the correspondent would be called onto the carpet and warned to mend his ways. If the offense was flagrant he might be formally expelled from the foreign press corps, thereby losing his official status with all its attendant privileges. His professional usefulness would thus be at an end, and he might as well leave Germany even though not formally expelled.

 

This gentlemen’s agreement system is equally obvious in the matter of interviews. When you interview an official personage you are required to submit your manuscript to the Propaganda Ministry which makes a German translation and lays it before the person interviewed for his approval. Obviously, it is necessary for the Government to see to it that its leading spokesmen are correctly quoted and that statements made to the interviewer “off the record” are not published. So it often happens that considerable changes have to be made before the final draft is O.K.’d. Once approval is given, however, there is no further check­up and the interview can be filed for the wireless in the same way as any press despatch. Technically, there is nothing to prevent your sending the original version. But naturally, if the published interview does not tally with the draft agreed upon, it will be clear that you have broken faith, and confidence in your reliability is destroyed.

 

The same policy applies to foreign telephone service. Most Berlin correspondents of newspapers in European neutral countries have telephone permits similar to Press Wireless for us Americans. Such permits enable the European correspondent to telephone his despatches directly from his Berlin office to his home paper. These talks may be subject to a double check ­ by listening in and by transcription on dictaphone records. However, even when this is done, it is seemingly to catch such obvious indiscretions as discussion of military matters. I never heard of a press telephone conversation being broken into or stopped. Here again the foreign correspondent is called to account only when a despatch published in his home paper contains something which German officialdom considers a violation of the rules of the game.

 

During my stay in Berlin, the Propaganda Ministry evolved an ingenious method of expediting press stories sent by mail. All such material could be turned into a special bureau with the understanding that the manuscript would be read and mailed within twenty-four hours unless something objectionable should be discovered. Being mailed in a special envelope, it went through without scrutiny by the regular censors. In case of objection, the correspondent was notified, and specific changes or eliminations were suggested. Here, as elsewhere, objections seemed to have been rarely made except for reasons already explained.

 

The foreign correspondent can go pretty far in describing current conditions and general situations. German officialdom seems to have realized that it is no use trying to stop press stories about matters which are undeniably true and widely known. Let me cite one instance from my own experience. I had written a pair of “mailers” describing in detail the many vexations and hardships which German housewives had to endure. They went through the Propaganda Ministry all right, but I wanted to find out the official reaction to them. Accordingly, I tried them out on an official who I was sure had not read them. He scanned them carefully and handed them back with a slightly wry smile.

 

“American readers will be apt to think we’re in tough shape,” he said.

“I really think you left out certain qualifying factors which would have made the picture less dark. However,” he ended with a shrug, “what you do say is all true, and I believe you’re trying to be fair. So, under our present policy, we can make no legitimate kick.”

 

Of course, the latitude extended foreign correspondents has its practical limits. Should a correspondent unearth some unpalatable information he is more than likely to be told that such a despatch, even though true and not falling under the ordinary tabus, is displeasing to the German Government. I know of one such instance where the offender was plainly told that, if he publicized any more exceptional discoveries of this kind, he would get into serious trouble.

 

There seems also to be distinct discrimination between the latitude permitted the correspondents of powerful neutrals and those of the small European countries which fall more or less within Germany’s orbit. More than once their press representatives said to me:

 

“We can’t write nearly as freely as you Americans. If we did, the German Government would either crack down on us directly or make strong diplomatic protests to our own Governments, who in turn might make it hot for our home papers.”

 

Such things make it abundantly clear that, in its seemingly liberal attitude toward foreign correspondents, the German Government is animated by no idealistic motives. Its policy is severely practical. The shrewd brains which run the Propaganda Ministry have decided that it pays to treat foreign correspondents well and help them to get their despatches out with a minimum of red tape and avoidable delay. Nothing makes a newspaperman more contented than that. But that isn’t the only reason. The very fact that Berlin despatches to the foreign press sometimes contain items unfavorable to Germany tends to give public opinion the idea that a Berlin date­line is relatively reliable, and this in turn aids the German Government in pushing out its foreign propaganda. Finally, there is no danger that any of those unfavorable items will leak back to the German public, because they are not allowed to be printed in any German newspaper.

 

Nothing can be more startling than the contrast between the respective treatments of foreign journalists and their German colleagues. The German press is rigidly controlled. Indeed, German papers print very little straight news as we understand the term. Every item published is elaborately scrutinized. I had one illuminating instance of this when I was invited by the head of a German press syndicate to contribute a short statement of my impressions of wartime Europe. Having been assured that I could write what I chose, I stated frankly that we Americans thought another long war would ruin Europe economically, no matter which side was victorious. The Propaganda Ministry promptly vetoed publication, and I was tactfully but firmly told that such a statement, though quite proper for my fellow countrymen, was deemed unsuitable for German readers.

 

When he travels, the foreign correspondent encounters the same condition of circumscribed freedom as he does in sending his despatches. Over most of Germany he can travel almost as freely as he could in peacetime ­ by train or commercial bus, of course, since gasoline rationing makes private motor trips impossible. The only apparent check on his movements is the requirement to turn in his passport when he registers at a hotel. But there are certain parts of the Reich which are rigidly barred zones. He cannot go anywhere near the West­ Wall, the fortified belt of territory along the French, Belgian, and Dutch borders. He cannot visit the fortified coasts of the North Sea and the Baltic. He cannot enter German occupied Poland ­ at least, he could not during my stay in Germany. He has to get special permission to enter the Protectorate of Bohemia­ Moravia, and even then he is under such close surveillance that no patriotic Czech will dare come near him. Such, briefly, are the conditions under which the foreign correspondent lives and works in wartime Germany. Within limits, he can operate quickly and efficiently. There are quite a few locked doors, and he had best not try to open them. But at least he knows where he stands, and the rules of the game are made clear to him.

 

———————————-

 

 

Book Reviews

Chapter 1: The Shadow

Chapter 2: Berlin Blackout

Chapter 3: Getting on with the Job

Chapter 4: Junketing Through Germany

Chapter 5: This Detested War

Chapter 6: Vienna and Bratislava

Chapter 7: Iron Rations

Chapter 8: A Berlin Lady Goes to Market

Chapter 9: The Battle of the Land

Chapter 10: The Labor Front

Chapter 11: The Army of the Spade

Chapter 12: Hitler Youth

Chapter 13: Women of the Third Reich

Chapter 14: Behind the Winter­Help

Chapter 15: Socialized Health

Chapter 16: In a Eugenics Court

Chapter 17: I See Hitler

Chapter 18: Mid­Winter Berlin

Chapter 19: Berlin to Budapest

Chapter 20: The Party

Chapter 21: The Totalitarian State

Chapter 22: Closed Doors

Chapter 23: Out of the Shadow

 

———————————-

Into the Darkness: Chapter 3 (PDF). >> Into the Darkness – Chapter 3 – Getting on with the Job

———————————-

 

Version History

 

Version 7: Apr 30, 2022. Re-uploaded images for katana17.com.

 

Version 6: Jun 17, 2015. Formatting changes.

 

Version 5: Nov 28, 2014. Added PDF file (Ver 2) of this post.

 

Version 4: Mon, Jun 9, 2014. Added PDF file of this chapter for download.

 

Version 3: Wed, Feb 5, 2014. Added Chapter links.

 

Version 2: Mon, Jan 27, 2014. Quoted text italicized.

 

Version 1: May 10, 2013. Published text with images.

Posted in Bk - Into the Darkness - Stoddard | Tagged , | 4 Comments

Into the Darkness : Chapter 2 – Berlin Blackout

 

 

Into the Darkness:

 

An Uncensored Report from

 

Inside the Third Reich at War

 

by Lothrop Stoddard

 

 

 

[Note: Images not part of original text]

Chapter 2: Berlin Blackout

 

My entry into Berlin was not a cheering one. The train was nearly two hours late and there was no diner, so I had had nothing except the traditional cowpunch­er’s breakfast a sip of water and a cigarette. The chill autumnal air made me shiver as I stepped from the train. Porters, it seemed, were scarce in wartime Germany, and I was fortunate to preempt one to carry my abundant hand luggage.

My first job was to get some German money, for I hadn’t a pfennig to my name. You can’t legally buy Reichsmarks abroad. What the traveler does is to take out a letter of credit before he leaves his native land. While in Germany he draws on this and gets what is known as Registered Marks which are much cheaper than the official quotation of 2.4 to the dollar. I bought my letter of credit in New York at the rate of nearly five to the dollar. That meant a twenty­ cent mark a saving of almost 100 per. cent. The traveler is supposed to use this money only for living expenses, and every draft is entered on his passport as well as on his letter of credit, thus enabling the authorities to check up on what he has spent when he leaves Germany. However, the allowance is liberal, and unless his drafts indicate that he has been buying a good deal, he will have no trouble. Of course, one gets ordinary currency. The Registered Mark is merely a bookkeeping phrase. At one of the bureaus maintained at every large railway station I drew enough cash to last me for a few days, then my porter found me one of the few taxis available. Both cab and driver were of ancient vintage, but they rattled me safely to my hotel. This was the famous Adlon, situated on Berlin’s main avenue, Unter den Linden.

 

Adlon Hotel

 

While unpacking I had the pleasure of a telephone call from a German named Sallett whom I had informed of my coming. I had known him when he was attached to the German Embassy in Washington. Now he was in the American Section of the Foreign Office, so I counted on him to start me right. Since the day was Sunday there was nothing officially to be done, but he asked me to meet him at lunch for a preliminary chat and to come to his home for dinner that same evening.

Before keeping my luncheon date, however, I took care to equip myself with food­ cards those precious bits of paper on which one’s very life depends. Incidentally they are not cards, but blocks of coupons, reminiscent of the trading ­stamps issued by some of our department stores. The clerk at the desk inscribed my name in a big book and handed me a week’s supply in the shape of little blocks of coupons variously colored. Each coupon is good for so many grams of bread, butter, meat, and other edibles. Every time you eat a meal you must tear off the various coupons required for each dish, the amount being printed on the bill of fare. And the waiter must collect them when you give your order, because he in turn must hand them in to the kitchen before he can bring you your food. This has nothing to do with price. In the last analysis, each of these food­coupons is what the Germans call a Bezugschein an official permit to purchase an article of a specific kind and quality. Let me illustrate: You want to buy some meat. Each of your meat coupons entitles you to so many grams. You may go into an inexpensive restaurant and get the cheapest grade of sausage or you can go into the best hotel and get a finely cooked filet mignon. The price will differ enormously, but the number of meat coupons you hand over is precisely the same.

 

Bezugschein food coupon

 

I needed to take along my food­cards even though I had been invited to lunch. In Germany, no matter how wealthy your host may be, he has no more coupons than anyone else and so cannot furnish them for his guests. That is true of all meals in hotels or restaurants. It does not apply when the host invites you to his own home. He then has to do all the honors. This severely limits domestic hospitality. In such cases the guests are usually served fish, game, or some other delicacy for which food cards are not required.

 

Kaiserhof Hotel

 

Dr. Sallett had asked me to lunch with him at the Kaiserhof, a well­ known hotel some distance down the Wilhelmstrasse. It is the Nazi social headquarters, and when prominent members of the Party come to Berlin from the provinces they usually stop there. Sallett met me in the lobby, resplendent in a gray diplomatic uniform cut with the swank which military tailors know how to attain. Being Sunday, the usual weekday crowd was lacking in the dining room. Those who were present seemed to be much of a type vigorous men, mostly in their thirties or forties, some of them hard­faced and all with an air of assurance and authority. Nearly all of them wore the Party emblem, a button about the size of a half­ dollar bearing a red swastika on a white background.

 

 

Party emblem button

 

My first meal in the Third Reich was a distinct success. As might have been expected in this preeminent Nazi hostelry, the food was good and the service quick. The imitation coffee, an Ersatz made of roasted barley, was banal, but it was remedied by an excellent pony of old German brandy. Thereafter, my friend Sallett explained to me the various things I must do in order to get going without loss of time.

 

New Chancellery

 

When we had parted until evening, I strolled back along the Wilhelmstrasse to get the feel of my new abode. I noted how the famous street had architecturally had its face lifted since I was there a decade before. Across the broad square from the Kaiserhof stood the new Chancery, while on the opposite side of the street was the equally new Ministry for Popular Enlightenment and Propaganda an institution I was to know extremely well, since all foreign correspondents fall under its special jurisdiction. Both buildings typify the new Nazi architecture their exteriors severely plain, whatever magnificence may be within. This is a conscious reaction from the ornate exaggerations of the old Empire style, which is frowned on as vulgar and tasteless.

 

Reich Chancellery

 

Just beyond the Chancery is the rather modest old eighteenth century palace which is Adolf Hitler’s official residence. It sets well back from the street behind a high iron railing. Above its gabled roof floated a special swastika flag to denote that Der Fuehrer was at home. That is the way Germans always speak of him. Very rarely do they use his name. With a sort of impersonal reverence, he is Der Fuehrer, The Leader, in Teutonic minds. The railing before the palace has two gates through which motor cars can enter and leave by a semicircular drive. These gates were guarded by Security Police, nicknamed Schupos, in green uniforms and visored black leather hats. Before the entrance to the palace itself stood two military sentries in field gray. Across the street clustered a large group of sightseers, gazing silently at their leader’s residence. Even on weekdays one can always find such onlookers from dawn to dusk, after which loitering on the Wilhelmstrasse is not allowed.

The streets were well filled with Sunday strollers, and since the misting rain of the forenoon had let up, I thought it a good opportunity to get a look at the holiday crowds. I therefore walked for an hour or more up and down Unter den Linden, around the Pariser Platz, and finally back to my hotel. My outstanding impression of these wartime Berliners was a thoroughgoing impassivity. They seemed stolidly casual with expressionless faces. Almost never did I see a really animated conversation; neither was there laughter or even a smile. Twice I dropped briefly into a cafe. In both cases the patrons sat chatting quietly, and from snatches of talk I overheard the conversation was wholly about personal or local affairs. Not once did I catch a discussion of the war or other public matters.

Uniforms naturally abounded. Soldiers, obviously on Sunday liberty, passed and re-passed, sometimes in large groups. They never sauntered but clumped along at a fair pace, their hobnailed boots clashing heavily upon the pavement. Most of them had fine physique and all looked well nourished and generally fit. Now and then I saw a Nazi storm­trooper clad in brown with a red swastika arm band. More often I encountered a black­ uniformed S.S. man the Party’s Schutz Staffeln, or Elite Guard. Twice I passed groups of Hitler Youth, boys dressed entirely in dark blue, from cloth hat to baggy ski­-trousers tucked into high boots.

There was much punctilious saluting. The soldiers gave the army salute, a quick touch of the fingers to helmet or forage cap. The others gave the stiff­ armed Nazi greeting.

The most interesting example of Berlin’s impassive popular mood was the attitude toward the tightly closed British Embassy which is just around the corner from the Adlon. There it stands, with gilded lions and unicorns upon its portals. I had rather expected that this diplomatic seat of the archenemy would attract some attention, especially on a Sunday, when this part of town was thronged with outside visitors. Yet, though I watched closely for some time, I never saw a soul give the building more than a passing glance, much less point to it or demonstrate in any way.

 

British Embassy in Berlin

 

Another surprising thing was how well dressed the people appeared. I saw many suits and overcoats which had obviously been worn a long time, but invariably they were tidy and clean. At the moment I thought this good showing was because everyone was wearing Sunday best, but I could detect little difference on subsequent days. In fact wherever I went in Germany the people dressed about the same. Nowhere did I see ragged, unkempt persons. I was told that the cheaper fabrics, made largely of wood synthetics mixed with shoddy, absorb dampness quickly, get heavy, and are hard to dry out. Nevertheless, they look good, though I doubt the efficacy of their resistance to rain and cold.

One thing those clothes did lack, however, and that was style. The range of models was small, and they were obviously designed for service rather than smartness. Overcoats were mostly of the ulster type, and that goes for the women too. While I did see a considerable number of ladies who were well­ dressed according to our standards, the average Berlin female, with her ulsterette or raincoat, her plain felt hat, her cotton stockings, and her low-heeled shoes, rarely warrants a second look. I may add that she uses little or no make­up and seldom has her hair waved. Such beautifying is frowned upon by strict Nazis as unpatriotic.

 

A street scene in central Berlin

 

My first stroll indicated another thing confirmed by subsequent observation. This is that Berlin remains what it always was a city lacking both color and the indefinable charm of antiquity. Its architecture is monotonous, and the drab effect is heightened by its misty northern climate. Most of the autumn season is cloudy with frequent light rain. Even on so­-called clear days the low hanging sun shines wanly through a veil of mist.

By this time the early autumn dusk was falling, so I returned to the Adlon. I did not dress for my evening appointment because in wartime Germany one rarely wears even a dinner jacket. A double-breasted dark suit is deemed ample for almost all occasions. My friends the Salletts lived some distance away from my hotel, but I had ordered a taxi so I was sure of transportation. The taxi situation is one of the many drawbacks to life in wartime Berlin. Because of the strict rationing of gasoline, taxis are scarce even by day and scarcer still at night. They are supposed to be used only for business or necessity, so drivers are not allowed to take you to any place of amusement, even to the opera. Neither do they cruise the streets for fares, so unless you know a regular cab stand you can almost never pick one up.

 

Hotel Adlon lobby

 

The hotel lobby was brilliantly lighted when I descended, but thick curtains had been drawn across the entrance. I slipped through them to encounter that most trying of all wartime Berlin’s phenomena, the Verdunklung, or blackout. As I emerged through the swing­doors it hit me literally like a blow in the face. The misting rain had begun again, and it was dark as a pocket. The broad avenue of Unter den Linden was a maw of blackness.

Not a street light except the cross-­slitted traffic signals at the nearby corner of the Wilhelmstrasse. They were hardly needed for the few motor cars and occasional buses that crawled slowly by. Well might they drive cautiously, for their headlights were hooded save for a tiny orifice emitting a dim ray. As I stood on the sidewalk waiting for my taxi, pedestrians picked their way warily in the inky gloom, sensed rather than seen. Some of them wore phosphorescent buttons to avoid collisions with other passers­by. Others used small electric lamps to guide their steps, flashing them off quickly and always holding them pointed downward toward the ground. Any other use of a flashlight is strictly prohibited. To turn it upward to read a street sign or find a house number rates a warning shout from one of the policemen who seem to be everywhere after dark. Indeed, such action may lead to arrest and a fifty­ mark fine, which at par is about twenty dollars.

I entered my taxi with some trepidation. How was the driver going to find my friend’s address, avoid collisions, or even keep to the roadway on a night like this? Yet he seemed to know his business, for he forged steadily onward, with many mysterious turns and twists through the maze of unseen streets and avenues. As for me, I could not see even the houses on either hand, though I sensed their looming presence and marveled at the thought of all the life and light pent in behind numberless shrouded windows. The only visible objects were pinpoint lights of approaching motor cars and occasional trams or buses which clattered past like noisy ghosts. They were lit within by tiny blue bulbs revealing shadow passengers. Wartime Berlin had indeed become a “city of dreadful night.” No description can adequately convey the depressing, almost paralyzing, effect. It must be lived to be understood.

At length my taxi halted. The driver flashed a light which showed a couple of doorways quite close together. “It must be one of those two,” he said, as I got out and paid him. Fortunately I had with me a flashlight brought from America. It was small as a fountain pen and could be clipped into my vest pocket. The sight of it never failed to evoke envious admiration from German acquaintances. Heedless of lurking policemen, I flashed its tiny beam upward at the house number which, as usual, was perched on the tip top of a high door. It was not the right place. I tried the next door. It had no number and seemed to be disused. I tried the next house. The numbers were running the wrong way. Meanwhile the misty drizzle had increased to a smart downpour.

Feeling utterly helpless, I determined to seek information; so I pressed the button to the first floor apartment and as the latch clicked I went inside. As I walked across the hallway the apartment entrance opened and a pleasant­ faced young woman stood in the doorway. I explained the situation, stating that I was a total stranger. Her face grew sympathetic, then set in a quick frown.

 

“You say that taxi man didn’t make sure?” she exclaimed. “Ach, how stupid! The fellow ought to be reported. Wait a minute and I’ll show you myself.”

 

 

She disappeared, returning a moment later wearing a raincoat.

I protested that I could find my way from her directions, but she would have none of it.

 

“No, no,” she insisted. “Such treatment to a newly arrived foreigner! I am bound to make up for that driver’s inefficiency.”

 

Together we sallied forth into the pattering rain. On the way she explained that my friend’s apartment house, though listed as on her street, had its entrance just around the corner on another avenue. She thought that also very stupid.

Arriving as I did somewhat late, I found the others already there.

To my great pleasure the chief guest was Alexander Kirk, our Charge d’Affaires in Berlin. He is doing a fine diplomatic job in a most difficult post. Generally popular, he does not hesitate to speak plainly when he needs to. And, instead of getting offended, the Germans seem to like him all the better for it. Some weeks later, Mr. Kirk won new laurels by vetoing the usual Thanksgiving celebration of the American colony in a restaurant or hotel. He argued that, when all Germany was strictly rationed, such public feasting would be in bad taste. Instead, he invited his fellow­ citizens to a private dinner at his own palatial residence in a fashionable suburb. The Germans considered that the height of tactful courtesy.

The other two guests were Herr Hewel, one of Hitler’s confidential advisers, and Dr. Otto Schramm, a leading Berlin surgeon. In the course of the evening, Dr. Schramm told me about a new synthetic fat which had just been invented. Elaborate experiments were being made to produce not only a substitute for soap but also an edible compound to supplement animal fats and vegetable oils. This, he claimed, would soon remedy blockaded Germany’s chief dietary danger, since it could be produced from chemical constituents abundantly available. The talk ran late. Fortunately, I was taken back to my hotel in Herr Hewel’s car, which, being an official, he could still use.

 

Brandenburger Tor (Gate)

 

Just before reaching the Adlon we encountered a column of huge army trucks going up Unter den Linden and out through the Brandenburger Tor. I was afterward told that material and ordnance, routed through Berlin, are usually moved late at night. There must have been plenty of activity on that occasion, for long after I had retired I could hear intermittent rumblings of heavy traffic whose vibrations came to me even through the Adlon’s thick walls.

———————————-

See Also

Book Reviews

Chapter 1: The Shadow

Chapter 2: Berlin Blackout

Chapter 3: Getting on with the Job

Chapter 4: Junketing Through Germany

Chapter 5: This Detested War

Chapter 6: Vienna and Bratislava

Chapter 7: Iron Rations

Chapter 8: A Berlin Lady Goes to Market

Chapter 9: The Battle of the Land

Chapter 10: The Labor Front

Chapter 11: The Army of the Spade

Chapter 12: Hitler Youth

Chapter 13: Women of the Third Reich

Chapter 14: Behind the Winter­Help

Chapter 15: Socialized Health

Chapter 16: In a Eugenics Court

Chapter 17: I See Hitler

Chapter 18: Mid­Winter Berlin

Chapter 19: Berlin to Budapest

Chapter 20: The Party

Chapter 21: The Totalitarian State

Chapter 22: Closed Doors

Chapter 23: Out of the Shadow

 

———————————-

 

Into the Darkness: Chapter 2 (PDF). >>Into the Darkness – Chap 02

 

Version History

 

Version 7: Apr 28, 2022. Re-uploaded images and PDF for katana17.com.

 

Version 6: Jun 17, 2015. Formatting changes.

 

Version 5: Nov 28, 2014. Added PDF file (Ver 2) of this post.

 

Version 4: Mon, Jun 9, 2014. Added PDF file of this chapter for download

 

Version 3: Wed, Feb 5, 2014. Added Chapter links.

 

Version 2: Published May 10 2013 – Resized pics. Added Version History notes.

 

Version 1: Published May 9 2013 – Text and some pics added.

Posted in Bk - Into the Darkness - Stoddard, Lothrop Stoddard | Tagged , | 10 Comments

Lothrop Stoddard – Into the Darkness : Chapter 1: The Shadow

 

Into the Darkness

 

An Uncensored Report from

 

Inside the Third Reich at War 

 

by Lothrop Stoddard

 

 

Summary

 

Journalist Lothrop Stoddard’s even­handed account of his travels through war­time Germany (and surrounding countries) from 1939­-1940. His is a truthful report of the Third Reich; its leaders, political positions, and culture.

 

Stoddard was a renowned and well­ respected journalist when he made this trip and subsequent report, because it recounts accurately (and not politically correctly), the events of the time, his name, not to mention his report, has all but disappeared from today’s “official” history concerning that period.

 

 

Lothrop Stoddard

 

 

 

Table of Contents

Chapter 1: The Shadow . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .    5

Chapter 2: Berlin Blackout . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   17

Chapter 3: Getting on with the Job . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  .26

Chapter 4: Junketing Through Germany . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  34

Chapter 5: This Detested War .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  . . .   43

Chapter 6: Vienna and Bratislava . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  .   52

Chapter 7: Iron Rations . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  63

Chapter 8: A Berlin Lady Goes to Market . . . . . . . . . . . .  .  74

Chapter 9: The Battle of the Land . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  82

Chapter 10: The Labor Front . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  98

Chapter 11: The Army of the Spade . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   105

Chapter 12: Hitler Youth . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  112

Chapter 13: Women of the Third Reich . . . . . . .. . . . . .  .    120

Chapter 14: Behind the Winter ­Help . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  127

Chapter 15: Socialized Health . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   137

Chapter 16: In a Eugenics Court . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  144

Chapter 17: I See Hitler . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  155

Chapter 18: Mid­-Winter Berlin . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  . .  164

Chapter 19: Berlin to Budapest . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 174

Chapter 20: The Party . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  190

Chapter 21: The Totalitarian State . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  204

Chapter 22: Closed Doors . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   215

Chapter 23: Out of the Shadow . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  235

.

 

Chapter 1: The Shadow 

 

 

All Europe is under the shadow of war. It is like an eclipse of the sun. In the warring nations the darkness is most intense, amounting to a continuous blackout. The neutral countries form a sort of twilight zone, where life is better, yet far from normal. In nature, an eclipse is a passing phenomenon; awe-inspiring but soon over. Not so with the war hidden sun of Europe’s civilization. Normal light and warmth do not return. Ominously, the twilight zone of neutrality becomes an ever bleaker gray, while war’s blackout grows more and more intense.

 

I entered wartime Europe by way of Italy, making the trip from America on the Italian liner Rex. It was a strange voyage. This huge floating palace, the pride of Italy’s merchant marine, carried only a handful of passengers. War’s automatic blight on pleasure tours, plus our State Department’s ban on ordinary passports, had dammed the travel flood to the merest trickle. So I sailed from New York on an almost empty boat.

 

Italian liner “Rex

 

First Class on the Rex is a miracle of modern luxury. Yet all that splendor was lavished upon precisely twenty-five passengers including myself. Consequently we rattled around in this magnificence like tiny peas in a mammoth pod. A small group of tables in one corner of the spacious dining salon; a short row of reclining chairs on the long vista of the promenade deck; a pathetic little cluster of seats in the vast ballroom when it was time for the movies these were the sole evidences of community life. Even the ship’s company was little in evidence. Save for the few stewards and deck­hands needed to look after us, the rest did not appear. Now and then I would roam about for a long time without seeing a soul. The effect was eery. It was like being on a ghost ship, “Outward Bound” and driven by unseen hands.

 

There was not much to be gleaned from my fellow passengers. Most of them were Italians, speaking little English and full of their own affairs. A pair of American business men were equally preoccupied. For them, the war was a confounded nuisance. The rapid-fire speech of a Chilean diplomat bound with his family for a European post was too much for my Spanish. The most intriguing person aboard was a lone Japanese who beat everybody at ping-pong but otherwise held himself aloof.

 

Back aft, Tourist Class was even more cosmopolitan, with a solitary American set among a sprinkling of several nationalities, including a young Iraki Arab returning to Bagdad from a course at the University of Chicago. He was a fiery nationalist deeply distrustful of all the European Powers, especially Soviet Russia with its possible designs on the Middle East. In both Tourist and Third Class were a number of Germans, mostly women but three of them men of military age. All were obviously nervous. They had taken the gamble that the Rex would not be stopped by the English at Gibraltar, Britain’s key to the Mediterranean. In that event, the men knew that a concentration camp would be the end of their venturesome attempt to return to the Fatherland.

 

Gibraltar

 

Passing the Straits of Gibraltar is always a memorable experience. This time it was especially impressive. We entered about mid afternoon. The sky was full of cloud­ masses shot with gleams of watery sunshine. At one moment a magnificent rainbow spanned the broad straits like a mammoth suspension bridge. On the African shore the jagged sierras of Morocco were draped in mists. By contrast, the mountains of Spain were dappled sunlight, their brown slopes tinted with tender green where the long drought of summer had been tempered by the first autumn rains.

 

At length the massive outline of the Rock of Gibraltar came into view. It got nearer. We forged steadily ahead on our normal course toward the open Mediterranean beyond. Would the British let us pass? Nobody knew but the ship’s officers, and they wouldn’t tell. Then, when almost abreast of the Rock, our bow swerved sharply and we swung in past Europa Point. The British were going to give us the once-over! Hastily I climbed to a ‘vantage­ place’ on the top deck to view what was to come, my Japanese fellow­ passenger following suit. As the Rex entered Algeciras Bay we could see Gibraltar’s outer harbor crowded with merchant shipping. When we got closer, I could discern by the big tricolor flags painted on their sides that most of them were Italian. Seven Italian freighters and three liners, all held for inspection. We cast anchor near the Augustus, a big beauty on the South American run.

 

As the anchor chain rattled, my fellow­ passenger turned to me with a bland Oriental smile. “Very interesting,” he remarked, pointing to the impounded shipping. “Do not think Japanese Government let this happen to our steamers.” We continued to view objectively happenings that did not personally concern us. Not so the bulk of the ship’s company. The sight of those many impounded ships stirred every Italian aboard. Officers assumed tightlipped impassivity and stewards shrugged deprecatingly, but sailors gathered in muttering knots while passengers became indignantly vocal, especially as a large naval tender approached us from shore. It was filled with British bluejackets and officers with white caps. I also spotted two military constables, which meant that they were after Germans.

 

As the tender swung alongside just beneath my vantage ­point, a young Italian fellow ­passenger strode up and joined us. Since he had already proclaimed himself an ardent Fascist, I was not surprised when he relieved his pent-up feelings with all the vigor of his seventeen years.

 

“Look at all our ships held in here!” he shouted.

“Isn’t it a shame?” I couldn’t resist a mischievous thought. “Just a little pat of the lion’s paw,” I put in soothingly.

 

The tease worked to perfection. He fairly exploded.

 

“Lions?” he yelled, shaking his fist.

“Insolent dogs, I call them. Just you wait. This war isn’t over; it’s only begun. Some fine day, our Duce will give the word. Then we’ll blast that old rock to smithereens and hand the fragments to our good friend Franco as a gesture of the friendship between our two Latin nations.”

 

This speech set off a sailor who was painting nearby. He joined us, gesticulating with his brush.

 

“I know how the English act,” he growled, “I went through the Ethiopian War. Wouldn’t I like to drop this paintbrush on that So ­and ­So’s head, down there!”

 

That So­ and So was a young British navy officer standing very erect in the tender’s stern. I shudder to think what might have happened if the sailor had obeyed that impulse.

 

By this time most of the British officers had climbed aboard, so I went below to see what was up. The spacious entrance salon was dotted with spectators. Through the open door of the purser’s office I could glimpse two Britishers going over the manifest of the ship’s cargo. Just outside the door, flanked by the constables, stood our three Germans of military age stocky men in their thirties or early forties. They stood impassive. This stoical pose was perhaps due to the fact that they had been drinking all the afternoon to quiet their nerves, so they should have been pleasantly mulled. Presently they entered the purser’s office. The interview was short. Out they came, and the constables escorted them downstairs to the lower gangway.

 

I hurried on deck to watch the tender again. It was now dark, but by our ship’s floodlights I could see some cheap suitcases aboard the tender. Soon a constable climbed down the short rope ­ladder; then the three Germans; then the second constable and the British investigation officers. The Germans, clad in raincoats, huddled around their scanty baggage and lit cigarettes. As the tender chugged away, the young officer previously menaced by the paint­brush shouted up to us in crisp British accents:

 

“You can go straight away now!”

 

The ordeal was over. It had lasted less than four hours. With only mail and a bit of express cargo, there was no valid reason for detaining us longer. We were lucky. Some ships with a full loading were held up for days. Anyhow, we promptly weighed anchor and were off. The twinkling lights of Gibraltar Town slipped quickly past and vanished behind Europa Point. The towering heights of the Rock loomed dimly in the sheen of the moon. Then it, too, sank from sight.

 

Approaching Italy, the weather turned symbolic. The last night on board we encountered a violent tempest marked by incessant lightning and crashing thunder. With the dawn a great wind came out of the north, blustering and unseasonably cold. The Bay of Genoa was smartly white-capped as the giant Rex slid into the harbor and nosed cautiously up to her dock.

 

Genoa, Italy

 

Historic Genoa, climbing its steep hills against a background of bare mountains, looked as impressive as ever. Yet there was a strange something in the picture which I could not at first make out. Then I realized what it was an almost Sabbath absence of motion and bustle, though the date was neither a Sunday nor a holiday. Broad parking spaces behind the docks were virtually empty of motor cars, while the streets beyond were devoid of traffic save for trams and horse­ drawn vehicles. Civilian Italy was denied gasoline. The precious fluid had been impounded for military purposes.

 

Friends met me at the dock, helped me through customs, and took me to the nearby railroad station in one of the few ancient taxis still permitted to run. At the station I checked my baggage as I was leaving town late that same evening. Apologetically, my friends escorted me to a tram in order to reach their suburban home some miles out. On the way I noted big letters painted on almost every dead-wall. Duce! Duce! Duce! Such were the triple salutes to Mussolini, endlessly repeated. Less often came the Fascist motto: Believe! Obey! Fight! Italy being partly mobilized, I saw many soldiers.

 

Yet, despite all those exhortations, neither soldiers nor civilians appeared to be in a martial mood. On the contrary, they seemed preoccupied, walking for the most part in silence, huddling down into their clothes against recurrent blasts of the chill mountain wind. Once beyond the heart of the city, traffic became even thinner. The few trucks encountered were run by compressed methane gas. I could tell this by the big extra cylinders clamped along their sides. They were like exaggerated copies of the Prestolite tanks I recall from my early motoring days.

 

At dinner that evening my friends and their guests talked freely.

 

“We’re just getting over a bad attack of jitters,” remarked my American ­born hostess.

“You should have been here a month and a half ago, when the war began, to realize how things were. At first we feared we were going right in, and expected French bombers over our heads any hour. You know that from our balcony we can glimpse the French coast on a clear day.” “The worst feature was the blackouts,” added my host.

“Thank goodness, we don’t have any more of them. Wait until you get up into Germany. Then you’ll know what I mean.”

“The Italian people doesn’t want to get into this row,” stated a professional man decisively.

“We’ve been through two wars already Ethiopia, Spain. That’s enough fighting for a while.” “If we should intervene later,” broke in a retired naval officer, “it will be strictly for Italian interests. And even then we’ll get what we want first. No going in on promises. We don’t forget how we got gypped at Versailles. That won’t happen a second time.”

“I must apologize for not serving you real coffee,” said my hostess. “But this Mokkari, made from roasted rice, isn’t so bad. You know we can’t get coffee from South America any more on a barter basis and we mustn’t lose any gold or foreign exchange in times like these except for imports vitally needed.”

“As a matter of fact,” put in a guest, “we could have a small coffee ration from what we get in from Ethiopia. But that coffee is very high grade and brings a fancy price on the world market. So the Government sells it all abroad to get more foreign exchange.”

“We’ve been systematically learning to do without luxury imports ever since the League sanctions against us during the Ethiopian War,” said my host.

“You’d be surprised to learn how self-sufficient we have become.” “Autarchy,” stated the retired naval officer sententiously,is a good idea. Puts a nation on its toes. Makes more work. Stimulates invention. Of course we can’t do it a hundred per cent. But the nearer we can come to it, the better.”

 

During the railroad journey from Genoa to the German border, my social contacts were scanty. Fellow­ travelers were Italians, and my knowledge of that tongue is far too sketchy for intelligent conversation. Still, I found an army officer who spoke French and a business man who knew German.

 

The army officer was an optimist, due largely to his faith in Mussolini.

 

“Our Duce is a smart man,” he said emphatically. “He’s keeping us out of that war up north because he knows it isn’t our fight. Not yet, at any rate. Should conditions change, I’m sure he’s smart enough to pick the right side for us.”

 

Ideologies evidently didn’t bother him. In his eyes it was just another war.

 

The business man was equally unconcerned with ideals but did not share the officer’s optimism.

 

“This is a crazy war,” he growled.I can’t see how the leaders on either side let it happen. They ought to have had sense enough to make some compromise, knowing as they should what it will probably mean. If it goes on even two years, business everywhere will be hopelessly undermined and may be nationalized. If it lasts as long as the other war, all Europe will be in chaos. Not organized Communism. Just plain anarchy.”

“Won’t Italy gain commercially by staying neutral?” I inquired.

“Oh, yes,” he shrugged. “We’re doing new business already and we’ll get more. But we’ll lose all our war­ profits and then some in the postwar deflation.”

 

He sighed heavily and looked out of the window at the autumn landscape flitting by.

 

A number of Germans boarded the train at Verona. I later found out that they were vacationists returning from a short trip to Venice. Typical Hansi tourists they were the men with round, close­ cropped heads; the women painfully plain, as the North German female of the species is apt to be.

 

I presently engaged one of the men in conversation. He complimented me on my German and was interested to learn that I was bound his way.

 

“You’ll find things surprisingly normal in Germany, considering it’s wartime,” he told me. “Though of course, coming straight from your peaceful, prosperous America, you won’t like some aspects of our life. Blackouts and food cards, for instance. Even so, I’m glad to be going home. Italy’s a lovely country, but it isn’t Gemuetlich. The Italians don’t like us and make us feel it. At least, the people here in Northern Italy do. Further south, I’m told they are not so anti­-German.”

 

By this time our train had entered the region formerly called South Tyrol, annexed to Italy at the close of the World War.

 

Despite two decades of Italianiza­tion, the basic Germanism of the region was still visible, from the chalet­ like peasant farmsteads to the crenelated ruins of old castles perched high on crags, where Teutonic knights once held sway. I had known South Tyrol before 1914 when it was part of Austria, so I was interested to see what changes had taken place. Even from my car window I could see abundant evidences of Italian colonization. All the new buildings were in Italian style, and Latin faces were numerous among the crowds of Third­-Class passengers who got on and off at every stop. The stations swarmed with soldiers, police, and Carabinieri in their picturesque black cutaway coats and big cocked hats. The German tourists viewed all this in heavy silence. It was clear they did not wish to discuss the painful subject.

 

South Tyrol, Italy

 

As the train wound its way up the mountain­ girt valley of the Adige, the weather grew colder. Long before we reached Bolzano, the ground was sprinkled with snow most unusual south of the Brenner in late October. It was the first chill breath of the hardest winter in a generation, which war­ torn Europe was destined to undergo. The mountains on either hand were well blanketed with white.

 

Bolzano

 

Bolzano (formerly Botzen) is a big town, the provincial capital and the administrative center. Here, Italianization had evidently made great strides. Large new factories had been built, manned by Italian labor. The colonists were housed in great blocks of modern tenements, forming an entire new quarter. On the walls were inscribed in giant letters: “Thanks, Duce!” There must be a big garrison, for the old Austrian barracks had been notably enlarged. They bore Mussolini’s famous statement: “Frontiers are not discussed; they are defended!” When we had reached Bolzano, the autumn dusk was falling. As we waited at the station, a gigantic sign on a nearby hill blazed suddenly forth, in electric light, the Latin word Dux. When the train started its long upward pull to the Brenner Pass, the snowfields on the high mountains to the north were rosy with the Alpine­ glow.

 

The crest of the historic Brenner Pass is the frontier between Italy and Germany. It is likewise the dividing­ line between peace and war. To the south lies Italy, armed and watchful but neutral and hence relatively normal. To the north lies Germany, a land absorbed in a life­ and­ death struggle with powerful foes. The traveler entering Germany plunges into war’s grim shadow the instant he passes that mountain gateway.

 

I crossed the Brenner at night, so I encountered that most startling aspect of wartime Germany the universal blackout. All the way up the Italian side of the range, towns and villages blazed with electric light furnished by abundant waterpower. Also my train compartment was brilliantly illuminated. There was thus no preparation for what was soon to happen.

Shortly before reaching the frontier two members of the German border police came through the train collecting passports. Being still in Italy, they were in civilian clothes, their rank indicated solely by swastika arm bands. They were not an impressive pair. One was small and thin, with a foxy face. The other, big and burly, had a pasty complexion and eyes set too close together.

 

BENITO MUSSOLINI Italian dictator meeting Hitler at Brennero station in 1940 

 

At Brennero, the Italian frontier station where Hitler and Mussolini were later to meet, the German train­ crew came aboard. The new conductor’s first act was to come into my compartment and pull down the window­ shades. Then in came the official charged with examining your luggage and taking down your money declaration. In contrast to the border police, he was a fine figure of a man ruddy face, blue eyes, turned ­up blond mustache, and a well­ fitting gray uniform. After a brief and courteous inspection he stated crisply: “Only blue light allowed.” Thereupon the brilliant electric globes in my compartment were switched off, and there was left merely a tiny crescent of blue light, far smaller than the emergency bulbs in our subway trains. So scant was the illumination that it did little more than emphasize the darkness. Had it not been for a dimmed yellow bulb in the train corridor, it would have been almost impossible to make my way around.

 

With nothing to do but sit, I presently tired of my compartment and prowled down the corridor to find out whether anything was to be seen. To my great satisfaction I discovered that the windows to the car doors had no curtains, so I could look out. And what a sight I beheld! It was full moon, and the moonlight, reflected from new­ fallen snow, made the landscape almost as bright as day. Towering mountain ­peaks on either hand shot far up into the night. The tall pine and fir trees were bent beneath white loads. Now and then, tiny hamlets of Tyrolean chalets completed the impression of an endless Christmas card.

 

As the train thundered down from the Alpine divide it entered a widening valley with a swift­ flowing little river. Houses became more frequent, hamlets grew larger. Now and then we passed a sawmill, apparently at work, since smoke and steam rose from the chimneys. Yet nowhere a single light. Only very rarely a faint gleam where some window was not entirely obscured. The landscape was as silent and deserted as though the whole countryside had been depopulated.

 

At Innsbruck, the first city north of the border, are freight­ yards, and here I could appreciate more fully the thoroughness of German anti­-air raid precautions. The engines had no headlights only two small lanterns giving no more illumination than the oil lamps in front of our subway trains. In the freight ­yards, switch­ lights were painted black except for small cross-­slits. Here and there, hooded lights on tall poles cast a dim blue radiance. Only on the station platform were there a few dimmed bulbs just enough for passengers to see their way.

 

From Innsbruck on I was allowed to raise my window­ shade, so I could sit comfortably in my compartment and view this blacked out country at my ease. So extraordinary was the moonlit panorama that I determined to forego sleep and watch through most of the night. The sacrifice was well repaid.

 

Hitler in Munich

 

As we got into the Munich metropolitan area I could judge still better the way urban blackouts are maintained. Munich is a great city, yet it was almost as dark as the countryside. The main streets and highway intersections had cross­-slitted traffic lights, but since these are red and green they doubtless do not show much more from the air than does blue. Furthermore, at this late hour, there was almost no traffic beyond an occasional truck. No ray of white light anywhere, and except along the railway no hooded blues. Passing through this great darkened city, the sense of unnatural silence and emptiness became positively oppressive.

 

The streets of Munich presently gave way to open country once more. The mountains lay far behind, and the plateau of Upper Bavaria, powdered with snow, stretched away on either hand until lost in frosty moon­ mist. The monotonous landscape made me doze. Some sixth sense must have awakened me to another interesting sight. My train was passing through the Thuringian Hills. They were clothed with magnificent pine forests, as deep­ laden with new­ fallen snow as those of the Tyrolean Alps. Those Thuringian forests grow in rows as regular as cornfields. The hills are belted with plantings of various heights, giving a curious patchwork effect. Where a ripe planting has been cut over, not a trace of slash remains and seedlings have been set out. Here is forestry carried to the nth degree of efficiency.

 

Out of the hills and into level country, I dozed off again, not to awaken until sunrise a pale, weak ­looking late ­autumn sun, for North Germany lies on the latitude of Labrador. The sun was soon hidden by clouds, while at times the train tore through banks of fog. We were well into the flat plains of Northern Germany, and a more uninteresting landscape can hardly be imagined. Houses and factories are alike built chiefly of dull yellow brick, further dulled by soft­ coal smoke. The intervening stretches of countryside are equally unattractive. The soil, though carefully tended, looks thin, much of it supporting only scrub pine.

 

At some of the larger stations were sizable groups of soldiers, perhaps mobilized reservists waiting for troop trains. They were in field kit, from steel helmets to heavy marching boots coming halfway to the knee. Incidentally, the present German uniform is not the “field­ gray” of the last war. It is a dull gray ­green, unimpressive in appearance yet blending well with the landscape, which wartime uniforms should do.

 

Towns became more frequent, until we were obviously on the outskirts of a metropolitan area. I was nearing Berlin. Now and then the train passed extensive freight­ yards. Here it was interesting to note the quantity of captured Polish rolling­ stock. Like the German freight cars, they were painted dull red, but were distinguished by a stenciled Polish eagle in white with the letters PKP. In most cases there had been added the significant word DEUTSCH, meaning that the cars are now German. At length the train slackened speed and pulled into the vast, barn­ like Anhalter Bahnhof, the central station for trains from the south. I had arrived in Berlin, Germany’s capital and metropolis.

 

 

Anhalter Bahnhof

 

———————————-

 

Book Reviews

Chapter 1: The Shadow

Chapter 2: Berlin Blackout

Chapter 3: Getting on with the Job

Chapter 4: Junketing Through Germany

Chapter 5: This Detested War

Chapter 6: Vienna and Bratislava

Chapter 7: Iron Rations

Chapter 8: A Berlin Lady Goes to Market

Chapter 9: The Battle of the Land

Chapter 10: The Labor Front

Chapter 11: The Army of the Spade

Chapter 12: Hitler Youth

Chapter 13: Women of the Third Reich

Chapter 14: Behind the Winter­ Help

Chapter 15: Socialized Health

Chapter 16: In a Eugenics Court

Chapter 17: I See Hitler

Chapter 18: Mid­-Winter Berlin

Chapter 19: Berlin to Budapest

Chapter 20: The Party

Chapter 21: The Totalitarian State

Chapter 22: Closed Doors

Chapter 23: Out of the Shadow

 

 ===========================

 

 

PDF of this post. Click to view or download (0.8MB). >> Into The Darkness – Chapt 1 – The Shadow

 

Knowledge is Power in Our Struggle for Racial Survival


(Information that should be shared with as many of our people as possible — do your part to counter Jewish control of the mainstream media — pass it on and spread the word) … Val Koinen

 

 ———————————-

 

 

Version History

 

Version 8: Nov 23, 2020. Re-uploaded images and PDF for katana17.com/wp/ version. Improved formatting.

 

Version 7: Jun 17, 2015. Formatting changes.

 

Version 6: Nov 28, 2014. Added PDF file (Ver 2) of this post

 

Version 5: Aug 31, 2014. Formatted pics. Updated chapter links.

 

Version 4: Thu, Jun 5, 2014. Added PDF file of this chapter for download

 

Version 3: Wed, Feb 26, 2014. Re-entered this chapter as it had been accidently deleted.

 

Version 2: Wed, Feb 5, 2014. Added Chapter links.

 

Version 1: Published April 30, 2013.

Posted in Bk - Into the Darkness - Stoddard, Britain, Europe, Fascism, Germany, Hitler, Italy, Lothrop Stoddard, National Socialism, National Socialism - Philosphy, WW II | Tagged , | Leave a comment

Into the Darkness by Lothrop Stoddard – Book Review

 

Lothrop Stoddard

 

Into the Darkness:

 

An Uncensored Report from

 

Inside the Third Reich at War

 

 

 

INSTITUTE FOR HISTORICAL REVIEW

 

Veteran American Journalist Provides Valuable Inside Look at Third Reich Germany

 

Into the Darkness: A Sympathetic Report from Hitler’s Wartime Reich, by Lothrop Stoddard. Newport Beach, Calif.: Noontide Press, 2000. (Facsimile reprint of the original 1940 edition, with new introduction.) 312 pages. Softcover. Index.

 

Reviewed by Theodore J. O’Keefe

 

After 60 years of oblivion, Lothrop Stoddard’s Into the Darkness, based on the author’s journey to central Europe from October 1939 to early 1940, has, thanks to the Noontide Press, re-emerged into the light of day. This is a welcome event, for this book is a rare even-handed account of the Third Reich – its leaders, its people, its politics and society – at the outset of the Second World War.

 

Lothrop Stoddard was not just any journalist, but perhaps the foremost popular American writer on race of the 20th century. Stoddard’s Harvard Ph.D. in history (his dissertation on the slave revolt in Haiti was published in 1914 as The French Revolution in San Domingo) and his languages and wide travel set him apart from most scribblers of his day, and ours. His Rising Tide of Color was a best-seller in the 1920s, when Stoddard’s notions on race, immigration, and eugenics were in national vogue, but that and his other books were banished not long afterward to a shadowy existence of reprinting by obscure houses and availability almost entirely by mail.

 

Traveling to Europe in late 1939 as a correspondent for the North American Newspaper Alliance, the 56-year-old Stoddard was given generous entree to Germany ‘s leaders, from Hitler on down. Maneuvering his way around the blacked-out country (whence the book’s title), whether shepherded by officials or on his own, Stoddard was aided not merely by his intimacy with Germany, dating from before the First World War, and his fluency in the language, but also by his keen reportorial eye and ear. The result is a highly readable account of Germany in the months between the victorious Polish campaign and the conquest of Denmark, Norway, France and the Lowlands. Read today, Into the Darkness resembles a time capsule from a forgotten age, an age before the atrocity mills were working to capacity and before the Nuremberg Tribunal had stamped its falsehoods with the seal of authenticity.

 

Most American journalists’ books on Third Reich Germany have focused on politics, nearly always from the standpoint of Hitler’s opponents. Stoddard, while hardly neglecting the Party, the Wehrmacht, the SS, and the police, is largely concerned with describing Germany ‘s economic and social life and institutions. He was able not merely to get access to Joseph Goebbels, Heinrich Himmler, Robert Ley, Wilhelm Frick, Walter Darré, Gertrud Scholz-Klink and many other leaders, but to talk directly and knowledgeably with them about their achievements, problems, and goals. Stoddard then went off to observe what the Nazis were doing – on the farm, in the workplace, with the Labor Service, through the Winterhilfe aid campaign, and in the eugenics court. ( Before visiting the last, he talked with such figures of the Reich’s racial and genetics programs as Eugen Fischer, Fritz Lenz, and Hans F. K. Günther.) What Party officials and government ministers wouldn’t tell him, he was often able to learn from taxi drivers, letter carriers, and cleaning women – and still found time to travel to Slovakia, where he interviewed the country’s president, Monsignor Josef Tiso, and to Hungary, where he celebrated New Year’s eve with his many friends among the Magyars.

 

Readers of Into the Darkness, whether they share Stoddard’s racial views or not, may be surprised to discover how objectively he described what he saw. The fact that his views on racial hierarchy and the preponderant influence of inheritance over that of environment largely jibed with those of the Nazis did not make the American Yankee a starry-eyed sympathizer, let alone a propagandist for, the National Socialist experiment. The old-stock Yankee from Brookline, Massachusetts, was acutely aware of the regime’s all-encompassing propaganda techniques, and part of the appeal of his narrative lies in his canny observations on how German officialdom did its best to micromanage appearances (though not necessarily in a heavy-handed way) from the Reichskanzlei to the Gasthaus.

 

For Stoddard, unlike William Shirer, Dorothy Day, and the other “crusading” US journalists who covered Germany under Hitler, the Third Reich limitations on freedoms guaranteed by the American Constitution were sufficient grounds for distaste, if not censure, of the regime. While Into the Darkness doesn’t gloss over the pervasive censorship, the concealed presence of the Gestapo, the ring tightening around the Jews, and the first rumors (some all too true) of German outrages in Poland, Stoddard was disinclined to bandy, let alone manufacture, atrocity tales. Thus his picture of Germany, even under the heightened censorship, rationing, and other wartime measures, accurately describes a far freer, safer place, for the great majority of its people, than was the Soviet Union. (That the Moscow treaty of August 1939 continued in force during Stoddard’s visit afforded the author opportunity to make a public show of defiance to his hosts’ foreign policy when, together with other journalists, Stoddard toasted the Finnish resistance to the late-1939 Soviet invasion.)

 

In 1940, however, accuracy and objectivity on Hitler’s Germany was not what was wanted by America’s intellectual and policy establishment. Even before Into the Darkness was published, Time magazine sniped at Stoddard as “persona grata to Nazis,” running a grotesquely truncated version of his interview with Goebbels (already published through the North American Newspaper Alliance). By the time his book appeared, Germany ‘s armed forces had conquered Denmark and Norway, overrun the Lowlands and conquered France, and driven British troops back across the Channel. While the United States, in accord with the wishes of the great majority of Americans, would stay officially neutral for a further a year and half, the climate in the publishing world, the academy, and government was such that Stoddard felt constrained to include an apologetic “Statement” on the book jacket. It begins:

 

“Personally repellent and depressing though Nazi Germany was to me, as it must be to any normally-minded American.”

 

And continues in the same mode for two paragraphs. Stoddard’s aim then was to salvage himself and his book by advertising Into the Darkness as a clarion call to preparedness against the German:

 

“New Sparta with its cult of ruthless efficiency.”

 

Today, Stoddard’s apology for Into the Darkness stands more as a sad tribute to the intimidating power, even then, of America’s Orwellian media combine. One can’t help noting that none of Stalin ‘s many apologists among American journalists seems to have felt compelled to write a similar disclaimer.

 

Sixty years after it was written, the text of Into the Darkness is both a refutation of its author’s apologia and a rebuke to his detractors. This is a journalistic account that still lives and breathes, that informs and entertains.

 

Part of this is due to Stoddard’s sympathy for so many of his subjects, and his empathy for all of them. Part is due to the book’s dynamic objectivity, which arises from Stoddard’s efforts to get at the facts behind the German propaganda rather than devise his own counter-propaganda.

 

And part of the continued vitality of Into the Darkness is certainly owing to our knowledge of how things will end, five years hence, for Hitler, Himmler, Goebbels and Tiso, and so many of their countrymen.

 

This reviewer has no evidence that Lothrop Stoddard actively opposed American entry into either the First or the Second World War. His Into the Darkness, nevertheless, is a vivid reminder that Germany under Hitler, as late as 1940, was not the inferno of persecution alleged by its detractors. Reading it today, armed with a hindsight unavailable to Stoddard, one may profitably wonder whether the (actual, as opposed to invented) Nazi excesses over the following five years owed more to the war and its conduct by the Allies than to the evil of the Nazis or the Germans.

 

Noontide’s new edition of Into the Darkness includes an up-to-date and informative introduction on Stoddard’s career by Rachel Dixon, and a new cover design which easily excels that of any of the author’s earlier books. Neither revisionists nor connoisseurs of Stoddard’s various writings on race will want to be without this highly readable, and most informative, re-issue.

 

From The Journal of Historical Review, March/April 2000 (Vol. 19, No. 2), page 69.

 

About the author:

 

Theodore J. O’Keefe is book editor for the Institute for Historical Review, and an associate editor of the IHR’s Journal of Historical Review. He previously worked at the IHR from 1986 until 1994, serving as chief editor of this Journal from 1988 until April 1992. He also addressed the IHR Conferences of 1986, 1987, 1989, 1990 and 1992. Educated at Harvard College, he is the author of numerous articles on historical and political subjects that have appeared in a range of periodicals.

 

 

 

———————

 

Book Reviews

 

Chapter 1: The Shadow   Chapter 2: Berlin Blackout  Chapter 3: Getting on with the Job   Chapter 4: Junketing Through Germany Chapter 5: This Detested War  Chapter 6: Vienna and Bratislava  Chapter 7: Iron Rations   Chapter 8: A Berlin Lady Goes to Market  Chapter 9: The Battle of the Land  Chapter 10: The Labor Front   Chapter 11: The Army of the Spade   Chapter 12: Hitler Youth   Chapter 13: Women of the Third Reich   Chapter 14: Behind the Winter­Help   Chapter 15: Socialized Health   Chapter 16: In a Eugenics Court   Chapter 17: I See Hitler   Chapter 18: Mid­Winter Berlin   Chapter 19: Berlin to Budapest   Chapter 20: The Party   Chapter 21: The Totalitarian State   Chapter 22: Closed Doors   Chapter 23: Out of the Shadow

 

———————————-

 

Version History

 

Version 5: Jul 26, 2022. Added Institute for Historical Review’s review.

 

Version 4: Apr 28, 2022. Re-uploaded images for katana17.com.

 

Version 3: Wed, Feb 5, 2014. Added Chapter links.

 

Version 2:  Mon, Jan 27 2014 –  Added Version History notes. Italicized quotes, bolded book titles.

 

Version 1: Published May 9 2013

Posted in Bk - Into the Darkness - Stoddard, Hitler, Institute for Historical Review, Lothrop Stoddard, National Socialism, National Socialism - Philosphy, Race, Race Differences | Tagged , | 2 Comments

AUSCHWITZ – A Personal Account by Thies Christophersen

 

 

AUSCHWITZ

 

A Personal Account by

 

Thies Christophersen

 

 

Introduction  by Dr. Manfred Roeder

Attorney-at-Law

 

First published in German in 1973 under the title Die Auschwitz Luge

 

——————————————

 

More than 100,000 copies in five languages distributed!

 

——————————————

 

First English edition 1974 under the title The Auschwitz Lie

Completely revised and

supplemented new edition, August 1979

 

 

CONTENTS

 

Preface by Dr Manfred Roeder ……………………………… iii

About the Author, Thies Christophersen ………………. vii

About Dr Manfred Roeder …………………………………….. viii

Horror Propaganda Against Germany …………………… 1

The Truth of Auschwitz: Silence by Blackmail ……… 3

Kok Sagis ………………………………………………………………. 5

Life in the Camp ……………………………………………………. 7

Olga ……………………………………………………………………….. 13

The Death Camp …………………………………………………… 15

Epilogue ………………………………………………………………… 25

Liars at Work” Reprint from Jewish Weekly …. 28

A Letter from Simon Wiesenthal …………………………… 29

Manfred Roeder’s Reply to Wiesenthal ………………….. 29

 

 

PREFACE

 

by Manfred Roeder, ‘Attorney-at-Law’

 

For God’s sake, can’t you carry on with your fight against pornography and moral degeneration without getting tied up in politics. Why are you so concerned about the past. Surely, you don’t want to justify National Socialism or deny the crimes of the past?” Even very good friends made such imploring appeals to me after I had mentioned the word Auschwitz in connection with horror propaganda for the first time. An honestly concerned priest wrote to me, “I have to tell you that your turning to political right-wing radicalism has frightened me a little, but I will stand behind you also in future, because I know you.

 

As pleased as I was about the confidence, it was alarming to realize how every effort to find truth and justice for Germany is termed: political right-wing radicalism. Yes, how much I would like to let the past rest if there was a mutual promise from all sides to forgive and forget as it was done in the peace treaty after the Thirty Years War in 1648. Nothing was to be touched upon, no persecutions were to be held. This was indeed a heroic achievement of dignity in the spirit of Christ!

 

What do we see today? Who is willing to forgive, to forget and heal old wounds? Only the Germans, and especially German refugees, have offered their intentions again and again, supported by deeds. What does the other side do?

 

The government of the German Reich was illegally removed from office. German officers, who had done nothing but their duty, and whose characters were far superior to those of the Allies passing judgment on them, were sadistically strangled, whilst no single soldier or partisan of the enemy was brought into court for war crimes. German jurisdiction and search for truth was made impossible. Only the victors were to sit in judgment and to write history. The persecution of war crimes in any other country was promptly prohibited. Not only were alleged deeds of Germans prosecuted in a most brutal manner, without consideration for any international legal principle, but it was explicitly ordered to lift the Statute of Limitations for so-called German war crimes or genocide. The Germans, thus being marked as outlaws as a result, can now have revenge taken on them until doomsday. This way, insidious partisans became national heroes; honorable German officers who defended themselves against these scroundrels were called war criminals.

 

The present government of the German Federal Republic has ordered a 14-volume documentation concerning crimes committed on German prisoners of war and civilians-not to be published, but to be pulped.

 

Golda Meir, as prime minister of Israel, made it known in unmistakable terms that “completely normal relations between Germany and Israel” would never exist. How can a past be left alone which is stirred up anew daily to be used against our people?

 

All schools continue to spread the lies about atrocities in concentration camps. There is, for instance, at this very moment an exhibition being shown in Wiesbaden under the patronage of the prime minister of Hesse, which is titled “Concentration Camp Sachsenhausen,” where all the long-disproved propaganda lies are brought up again. As class after class is being channeled through the exhibition, the horrified children read that a gas chamber was built in Sachsenhausen in 1943, although it has been [Page iii] proved long since that there have never existed any gas chambers on German territory. It causes one to shudder when you read, “Day and night the sweetish smell of burnt human flesh was hanging over the camp.” Such statements are being made in spite of the fact that the international Red Cross regularly inspected the concentration camps up to March 1945, and never reported on any gassing or cremating facilities or the sweetish smell.

 

It is further maintained that every SS-Man in Sachsenhausen had the ‘right‘ to beat up and even kill a prisoner during roll call. Of course, cruelty occurred occasionally, but almost entirely between inmates themselves or were committed by auxiliary guards, the so-called ‘Kapos.‘ If an SS-Man or any other German official committed any crime against prisoners or touched their property, he was immediately court-martialed.

 

What possible interest could Prime Minister Osswald of Hesse have in spreading such lies about Germany?

 

Our entire school youth is being poisoned with these lies about their fathers to deepen the hatred between generations ever more. But this is the recipe of the world conspirators to destroy a people. And we who know better, should we keep silent? One who then still wants to tell us that this is the Christian thing to do, is in my eyes nothing but a worthless coward and scoundrel.

 

The Minister of Education in Hesse has commissioned the Jewess Hannah Vogt to write a book about Germany’s past entitled Guilt or Destiny, which already had its 11th printing, and is distributed to all high school graduates. A Jewess will hardly be qualified to judge Germany’s past objectively. This book turned out to be an absolute masterpiece of historical smear and hate propaganda in a scientific cloak, and can be put on a par with the works of the Komintern agent, Willy Muenzenberg, the unsurpassed master of anti-German agitation and lie propaganda who would shout to his collaborators, when they wrote an article against Germany:

Too weak, too objective! Knock them on the head. Make the world stand aghast with horror. Make them the stench of the world. All men must curse them and shudder with horror!

 

There is not one authentic document in existence which places the overall losses of the Jewish population during the last war higher than 200,000. During one single night, in Dresden, more defenseless, innocent Germans perished-children, women, old people and especially wounded men than Jews have died in all the concentration camps in the years of the National Socialist Regime!!! And in these Jewish total losses even natural deaths are included. Thus the losses, taken as a percentage and absolutely, are much below those of any other power taking part in the war; keeping in mind that the Jewish world organizations had already in 1933 declared a holy war on Germany to be fought to the death.

 

[Image] “Judea Declares War On Germany” headline in the Daily Express

(Note: this image is not in the original booklet)

 

At that time not a single hair on a Jew’s head had been touched! Yet, the world resounds with the clamour for the dead Jews. But no outrage is voiced about Dresden and the genuine figure of six million murdered East Germans. No voice is raised about the millions of murdered German and European war prisoners who had fought on the German side. No plaque tells us of the 105,000 Frenchmen who were murdered because they were pro-German. No days of remembrance are held for the Dutch, Danes, Belgians, Norwegians, Rumanians, Russians, Cossacks, Ukrainians, who were slaughtered in a most bestial manner for having worked or fought on the German side. They wanted to save Europe from Bolshevism or, in [Page iv] some cases, German control was probably considered to be the lesser evil.

 

An employee of the present German Postal Service can be dismissed on the spot if he denies that Jews were gassed. This strange concept of ‘justice‘ was supported by a court in Hesse which agreed that no employer needs to tolerate such utterances against Jews, which “cannot be surpassed in their offensiveness.” Every scoundrel though may freely boast today that he committed sabotage and treason against Germany.

 

One of the concerned readers asked me if I were not perhaps falling victim to a new kind of Anti-Semitism? On the contrary! I like to see the Jews being treated the same as everybody else and not enjoy special privileges. These privileges, and the lies spread by certain Jewish World Domination Cliques are the cause of a new Anti-Semitism. Mr. Wiesenthal promotes more Anti-Semitism than I do. Every decent Jew will welcome our search for truth and therefore agree with this brochure. By publishing this sensational report we do not stir up nationalism or hatred, but merely serve the truth, and only the truth will make us and others free. Only injustice which was really committed can be made good or forgiven. Invented ‘atrocity’ stories will create new hatred and sow seeds of discontent without fail.

 

We are not so much interested here in running up and down the scale of losses and crimes, but first of all we are concerned about the spiritual recovery of our people. We have been accused of the worst crimes in the history of mankind: namely to have willingly started a global war, to have murdered millions of innocent people, and if we had had the time and opportunity, we would have eliminated also the rest of all ‘subjugated’ peoples.

 

One who can accept such an accusation without protest has neither heart nor brains! Now suddenly there are witnesses who stand up and say: All this is not true! Germany neither wanted nor started this war but has been forced into it by her deadly enemies. Hitler had no intentions to kill Jews and never has he given any orders for their extermination nor for the destruction of any other peoples. There were no gas chambers. All these are the inventions of morbid brains. Nearly all of the so-called war crimes and concentration camp trials have been held with perjured witnesses and falsified documents.

 

Any person who is accused of a crime will certainly be pleased when he is found not guilty, all the more so if it was proved that the crime in question had not even been committed.

 

We Germans should, therefore, rejoice when today witnesses do appear who can prove that Auschwitz was no death machinery, but an enormous armament factory and that the inmates of the camp were on the whole treated decently, and that any people from outside could visit the camp at any time. Most of our people react quite differently though. They behave as if one wanted to deprive them of their most precious post-war experience-their guilt complex. With claws and teeth they hang on to a German guilt. This is quite a unique phenomenon in the history of mankind. In any other people such a reaction would be unthinkable and can only be described as a deep mental disturbance, as it is not normal that someone should insist on being guilty.

 

This is the real problem and the true reason for the publication of this brochure. It is not a question of which side has done more wrong; that is almost common knowledge to everyone who even superficially studied the [Page v] available sources. It is a plain aquital for Germany. The book by Colonel Dall, son-in-law of Franklin D. Roosevelt, America’s War Policy, was not even necessary to prove that. Nevertheless, this book has uncovered, beyond any doubt, the sole guilt of Roosevelt and Churchill for this war and their criminal conspiracy against peace. Whoever still maintains the opposite is being malicious!

 

Why are we Germans so in love with the fairy tale of the six million gassed Jews? I can speak here from experience because I, myself, believed in it at one time. We Germans like brooding about a problem. We are God-fearing by nature. Therefore, we had to have a profound religious explanation for the immeasurable misery our people had been plunged into. To merely except the explanation that the others were stronger and more reckless, is insufficient for the German soul. We believe that nobody has to suffer such misery without a reasonable cause. It is the well-known problem of Job, who was talked into believing — by his ‘friends‘ and re-educators — that every blow from fate is a punishment from God. In that way, many Germans saw in the catastrophe of 1945 a divine judgment for sins and Crimes committed. The myth of six million innocent, murdered people actually satisfied the demand for a metaphysical explanation and was therefore so eagerly accepted. It seems to become all the more plausible when based on the Bible: We did not murder just ‘any‘ people, but we murdered the ‘chosen‘ people! As one of the readers wrote to me in these words: “Yes, we have assaulted the apple of God’s eye.“; what a ‘wonderful‘ explanation! Now we know why. Now we have got something to suffer for, and through subservience to all Jews and by paying colossal sums of money, we can regain at least part of God’s favor, or, as repentant sinners look forward to forgiveness. That is the reason why the German clings to the ‘murdered Jews‘ as though it meant the salvation of his soul. Without this explanation our terrible downfall would have had no higher meaning and be all the harder to bear.

 

We cannot therefore blame the poor citizen for believing in the concentration camp horrors. It would deprive them of their faith in a just God, the basic problem of Martin Luther’s reformation, which seems to be still deep-rooted with many people. But Job wrestles with his re-educators and gives them the proper answer:

This affliction comes upon me for no understandable reason. I don’t know why. It is beyond me. But I have not sinned against God. I have not gone astray from the right path. I want to reason with Him. I have kept the faith. One day He will justify me in public!

 

This is the voice of a righteous man. isn’t that the way we ought to speak? We do away with the two great lies on which the whole post-war development rests: There is no chosen people Israel who could claim to be identical with the Jews; and there is certainly no condemned, criminal German people! We shall fight uncompromisingly against anyone who upholds one of these lies or versions thereof and thereby drives our people deeper into its misery. The time has come to stand up and be counted to bring about a change of fortune. We shall conquer fate because we are fulfilling God’s commission. Therefore I am so very grateful to Thies Christophersen, who has set a shining example to our people with this courageous work and is a guarantor for the fact that we shall reverse the tide of the time.

 

Manfred Roeder

 

 [Page vi]

 

About the Author, Thies Christophersen

 

Thies Christophersen, born in 1918, was a farmer in northern Germany before the war. As a soldier in the German army he was wounded during the western campaign in 1940, and was thereafter unfit for active military service.

 

After an agricultural study he was ordered to serve in the Ukraine on India Rubber research. This research department was transferred to Auschwitz in Poland after the re-occupation of the Ukraine by the Soviets.

 

Thies Christophersen, as a member of the German army with the rank of a second lieutenant (Sonderfuehrer Z), was part of the research team. Having worked with concentration camp inmates, Christophersen is publishing his observations and experiences in the brochure now before you.

 

Today, Christophersen is active as a writer and journalist on agricultural subjects. He is the publisher of several publications, i.e. the periodicals Kritik and Die Bauernschaft. The author resides at D-2341 Kaelberhagen/Mohrkirch, West Germany.

Thies Christophersen

 

[Page vii]

 

About Dr Manfred Roeder

 

 

Manfred Roeder, a successful farmer and an attorney, was born in 1929. His father was a dedicated National Socialist, and Roeder himself fought in the battle of Berlin in 1945 as a member of the Hitler Youth.

 

His initial involvement in politics goes back ten years, when he led a nationwide fight against pornography. Soon after that he became aware of numerous injustices in West Germany. He is the founder of two patriotic organizations: The German Citizens’ Initiative and The Liberation Movement of the German Reich.

 

MANFRED ROEDER

 

In particular, Roeder has actively refuted the propaganda put forth, by the West German government which seeks to instill a sense of guilt and shame in the German people for the Second World War. Roeder has led mass demonstrations demanding the release of Rudolf Hess, and has been a leading figure in the movement to demolish the hoax that six million Jews were ‘gassed’ by the Germans during the war.

 

Manfred Roeder fled West Germany in 1977 to avoid incarceration on charges of;

defaming democracy in general and the West German democracy in particular and unconstitutional propaganda.

 

Roeder had received word that once imprisoned, the Bonn regime planned to file many additional charges against him in order to keep him locked up indefinitely.

 

Roeder has traveled extensively in North and South America since he left Germany, making friends and contacts for his organizations. He is presently being sought not only by the West German police, but by Interpol as well. While in the United States, the F.B.I. was interested in his movements. It is to be hoped that someday Manfred Roeder will be able to return to his farm in Germany where his wife and six children now wait for him. For the time being, however, this man who loves his country and his people must remain in exile from them.

 

From White Power, Nov.-Dec. 1978

 

[Page viii]

 

Horror propaganda against Germany

 

Excerpts from Politische Justiz-die Krankheit unserer Zeit, (Political Justice — the Disease of Our Time) by Or Friedrich Grimm, Verlag Bonner Universitaets Buchdruckerei, Gebr. Scheur, GmbH., Bonn, 1953.

 

The Disease of Our Time

 

by Friedrich Grimm

 

It has become difficult for even well-meaning people to recognize and form an opinion about the true events of history, since the devastating effect of propaganda, which already played its part in the last years of the first World War and afterwards, mislead them.

“‘I had a remarkable discussion with an important representative of the opposite side in May 1945 a few days after the collapse. He introduced himself to me as a university professor from his country who wished to speak to me about the historical, background of the war. The conversation which followed was on a high level. He broke off abruptly and pointed to the pamphlets on my table, dealing with concentration camp horrors. Pamphlets of this kind we had been inundated with in the first days after the capitulation.

What do you say about that,’ he asked me. ‘Oradour and Buchenwald’, I replied. ‘It would be rather pointless for you to elaborate on this issue as I am a legal man myself and condemn injustice where I meet it, but especially when wrong was done on our side. I am fully aware though of the difference between real facts and the political use which is being made of them. I know what horror propaganda is. Also, I have read all the publications of your experts on this matter after the First World War, the writings of the Northcliffbureau, the book by the French Finance Minister Klotz, From War to Peace, in which he describes how the fairy-tale about the chopped-off childrens’ hands was invented and used. Furthermore, I have read the explanatory writings in the periodical, Crapouillot, which compares the horror propaganda of 1870 with that of 1914-18, and finally Ponsonbys’ classical book, The Lie in Wartime, which reveals how, already in the last war, depots were in existence where dolls and trick photography were used to compose mountains of corpses. These pictures were distributed with the title left open, which was assigned to [Page 1] them later according to circumstances and then conveyed by telephone through the propaganda centre.

With that I produced one of those pamphlets allegedly showing mountains of corpses from the concentration camps and showed it to my visitor. He gazed at me rather bewildered. I continued,

I cannot imagine this poisonous mental weapon, which decided the last war, having been ignored in this war when all of her weapons were so well perfected. Actually, I know that it was not ignored. In the last few months before the collapse I have read the foreign press daily and there I came across these reports about German atrocities compiled by one central office. A certain sequence was followed in dealing with one occupied territory after the of her, today France, tomorrow Norway, then Belgium, Denmark, Holland, Greece, Jugoslavia and Czecho-Slovakia. First there were hundreds of dead in the concentration camps. Then, when six weeks later the same country had its next turn to be reported about, there were suddenly thousands of dead, then ten-thousands and later hundred-thousands. I thought to myself: Surely this numerical inflation cannot possibly go into the millions!

Now I reached for another pamphlet:

Here you have the million!

Now my visitor burst out:

I can see that I have come across an experienced man. Let me tell you who I am. I am not a university professor. I come from this central office you have just spoken about, where I have been doing, for months, just what you have quite correctly described as making horror propaganda — and the result was a total victory for us.

I answered,

I know, and now you would have to stop!

He replied,

No, we are only just starting now! We shall continue this horror propaganda, we shall increase it, until no-one will accept one word from the Germans anymore. We shall carry on until all sympathies the Germans have had in other countries are destroyed and until the Germans themselves are so confused that they won’t know what they are doing in the end!

Closing the conversation I said,

In that case you burden yourself with a great responsibility!’”

 

 [Page 2]

 

 

THE TRUTH OF AUSCHWITZ

 

Silence by Blackmail

 

This personal account is written for all people of goodwill

 

 

I was in Auschwitz from January to December 1944. After the war I heard about the alleged mass murders of Jews and I was quite taken aback. Despite all the testimony submitted and all the reports in the media, I know such atrocities were never committed. I have said so repeatedly, everywhere and at all times, but it has always been useless for no one has wanted to believe me. The evidence, I am told, is unequivocal and confirmed without contradiction.

 

Court cases have clearly established that gas chambers existed in Auschwitz and the Camp Commander Hoss, has himself said so. Whoever dares to deny this, makes himself suspect of perhaps, having personally participated in the murders of these Jews.

 

I have been warned to take care because war crimes have not yet come under the Statute of Limitation (as applicable in any civilized nation) and so I can still be tried and be prosecuted and it would be best to keep silent.

 

Friends and acquaintances have said:

What would you serve were you still to try to correct history?” “You cannot change a thing!” “Acknowledgement of our guilt has brought us back into the community of nations.” “Remember, you have a family“. “No one will believe your reports . . . Keep silent, that’s the smartest thing you can do.

 

Quite honestly, I began to have doubts myself. When one continually hears the same stories from all sides, it is only reasonable that finally one begins to believe them. “But what happened to all those Jews if they were not gassed?” I do not know, but I wonder where so many Jews come from if six million of them are supposed to have been killed during the war. In my area of the country there hardly ever were any Jews even before the war. So-called “cattle-Jews” simply did not exist in rural areas. Spiteful [Page 3] people have remarked that the only reason for this was that the peasants in these northern lands were smarter than the Jews. Very many Jews were able to emigrate before the war, some escaped during the war and many of them have survived the concentration camps … and of course many Jews today live in our midst again.

 

My doubts were first roused when I read a flyer distributed by Einar Aberg of Norrviken (Sweden). He compared official statistics of the Jewish world population before the war with those after the war. He concluded their numbers had increased to the extent where every woman must have given birth to a child every year of her productive life, if the number of 6 million murdered Jews could be judged to be correct. In 1938 there were supposed to be 15,688,259 Jews in the world. This figure is derived from the “World Almanac” of the American Jewish Committee. In 1948, according to an article in the New York Times by W. Baldwin, there were supposed to be 18,700,000 Jews in the world. Baldwin is a well-known population expert, entirely neutral, and even the most far-fetched imagination could not describe him as “anti-Semitic.” Thus the story of the 6 million murdered Jews cannot be true, for it is impossible for a nation’s population to increase by 50% in just ten years.

 

The losses of the Jewish people during WW II, certainly regrettable, were not 6 million, but approximately 200,000, according to facts compiled by the UNO, which body surely has no reason to grant special protection to any one nation in particular.

 

A book published in Brazil contains the following statement:

… These facts were used by the Canadian Anti-Defamation Committee of Christian Laymen in ascertaining that 200,000 Jews died in the twelve years of Hitler’s rule (1933-45), regardless of how they died, i.e. whether they were killed, sentenced and shot as guerillas or saboteurs, or in air raids on camps, or through other circumstances due to war, including sickness and old age.

 

[Page 4]

 

The leading Austrian Social Democrat, Dr. Benedikt Kautsky — himself a Jew — who spent the years from 1938 to 1945 in concentration camps, three of these in Auschwitz, said:

I was in the big concentration camps in Germany. I must truthfully state that in no camp have I ever seen anything that might have resembled gas chambers.

 

Richard Baer, the last commander at Auschwitz (from 1943) and therefore the most important witness, of whom the Parisian weekly “Rivarol” reported that he could not be dissuaded from his insistence that;

during all the time he was in Auschwitz, he had never seen gas chambers, nor had he known that any existed.

 

Commander Baer died suddenly on June 17th, 1963 whilst being held under investigation, although two weeks previous to this he had been given a clean bill of health.

 

I never made a secret of my having been at Auschwitz. When asked about the destruction of Jews, I answered that I knew nothing about that. I simply marvelled at how quickly the populace was willing to accept and believe the stories about these mass gassings, without any apparent resistance.

 

As a result of a war injury in 1940 I developed a severe case of chronic sinus. The slightest cold put me back in hospital. The Autumn of 1942 brought an official medical finding: service on the home front. I filed a request for furlough to attend a higher agricultural school and did so in 1942/43. In the spring of 1943 a commander of Army Headquarters came to our school to solicit agrarians willing to go to the Ukraine to raise india rubber plants. I applied and was accepted.

 

 

Kok Sagis

 

A mobile war needs vehicles, and vehicles need tires, and tires [Page 5] are made from rubber. Of course there is synthetic rubber, made from carbon, lime and sulphur, called “buna.” But without the addition of natural India rubber to the mixture, it cannot be produced as there is then no cohesion. The Russians, in their attempt to become self-sufficient (in our case this was called preparation for war), had systematically searched their whole flora for plants that contained India rubber . . . and found some — among others, one called Kok Sagis, a close relation of the dandelion. The white latex in its roots contains India rubber. This became very important to carrying on the war. The motorized vehicles branch at HQ had organized departments for the cultivation, utilization and research of plants with India rubber content. After a short training period I was sent to the Ukraine to supervise the planting and cultivation of India rubber bearing plants. I had never seen a Kok Sagis plant, but practical work and assistance from some Russian agrarians soon provided the necessary knowledge.

 

Kok-Sagis — cultivated in Auschwitz. Found to be high in India rubber content.

 

[Page 6]

 

In 1943 we lost the Ukraine, and early In 1944 I was transferred to the department of plant cultivation at the Kaiser Wilhelm Institute. This institute had established a branch at Auschwitz, so I went there, and only on my way did I learn, that it was a concentration camp. When relating my experiences at Auschwitz, I have some doubts as to whether I should mention names of former colleagues who today are still alive and with whom I still maintain contact. I know that I myself must be prepared for reprisals for breaking the silence. I am now ready to accept these … and in part already have had to do so.

 

 

Life In the Camp

 

It was cold and windy when I arrived at the railroad station, of Auschwitz on January 15, 1944. I wondered whether to go by horse and carriage, but decided to walk. Leaving my baggage at the station, I asked my way to the camp. Actually the camp, consisting of barracks, that were ugly but massively built, was very near. The first thing I noticed was the inscription over the gate “ARBEIT MACHT FREI“, (“Work will set us Free“). I was surprised to see so many inmates of the camp walk around unguarded. Later I learned that the camp, surrounded with an electrified barbed wire fence was under guard only at night. There were guards posted outside the grounds, however, who were pulled in at night after roll call.

 

I reported to my superior, Dr. A., a fine-looking man with steel-blue eyes and reddish hair. He greeted me warmly. I was curious about the camp and asked about the inmates. He said, “The Germans who are here belong here . . . apart from that it is the European elite that is here.” Later I discovered there was some truth to that statement. I was introduced to his co-workers. There was a former Czarist officer, an exile, who also spoke German and French, and [Page 7] he offered to drive me to my quarters. The officers had no cars but they did have a carriage and a driver at their disposal to travel on the extensive lands that were under cultivation. However, I found this somewhat pompous. I also found it embarrassing, that inmates whom we passed on the way, took off their caps and stood at attention as we went by, but we were officers and the SS-men also gave us the military salute.

 

Author (centre) with arm resting on horse-drawn buggy, used by officers for conveyance around the camp grounds.

 

My quarters were in Raisko, about 3 km from the main camp. This was where a women’s camp, the botany buildings with their hot houses, and the laboratories for our research work were located. I was given a room in an unattached dwelling; I shared the house with a colleague who was the supervisor of the department of plant cultivation. He was a man with a happy disposition. There was something heart warming [Page 8] about his laughter and he was well liked by the inmates and he still corresponds with some of them today. Later on he had his wife and two young children join him.

 

I then moved to an apartment in a botanic building that had just been completed. This I shared with a scientist whose name I can mention; it was Dr. Boehme. He was shot and killed by Polish civilians who went wild after the capitulation. He had never harmed anyone and had been kindness and courtesy personified.

 

The first inmate I met was “Agnes.” She was a member of the Jehovah’s Witnesses and was our cleaning lady. I questioned her about conditions at the camp but she would not speak about them. Not so Mrs. Pohl who was in control of the kitchen. She also was a student of the Bible and made up flyers which she distributed to the inmates. Actually, this was against the regulations, but it wasn’t my job to watch the inmates. Apart from that, her publications seemed harmless to me, and I had always been tolerant in matters of religion. Even now I cannot deny Jehovah’s Witnesses a certain measure of respect, for they were willing to have themselves locked up and suffer for their faith simply because they wanted to suffer. There was no need to watch them and they were free to move even beyond the line of posted guards.

 

In our camp about 300 women were housed in three barracks. They were made up of a select type of worker who worked almost exclusively for the department of plants. For the most part they were Jewish and Polish with a sprinkling of French. All spoke German quite well and many had an academic degree. Their work was of a scientific nature and they were quite self-sufficient. In fact, it was not I who was training the inmates, they were training me, and they did so with a certain pride, in fact, I might almost say, with an air of self-importance. At any rate, I had the impression that the inmates performed their research tasks gladly and with enthusiasm.

 

[Page 9]

 

The cultivation of plants proceeded on a basis of selectivity. The roots of the plants were examined as to their India rubber content and reproduced through seedlings. Their seeds were carefully gathered and re-sown. Sabotage could easily have been committed but we never learned of even a single instance. It must be mentioned, however, that the inmates did not trust each other. There was that ancient feeling of hate between Jews and Poles. Compared to this hate, so-called National Socialist hatred of the Jews was quite harmless.

 

The results in increased India rubber production were quite satisfactory. One of our superiors went to Russia, and returned with a number of scientists. They came with their families and worked for us as civilians, enjoying their work.

Russian agronomist (on left) and the author.

 

A sort of drama developed with the arrival of one Russian agronomist, J. Sassmoshek. He found a former sweetheart among the inmates and this re-union had its natural effects. Sassmoshek married the woman and she was released from her internment. After the evacuation from Auschwitz, I saw them again at Halle and both were radiantly happy. I myself was not so happy at the time, I had just been through that terrible air raid of February 13th on Dresden, [Page 10] which had been declared an open, undefended city, and from which I had escaped unharmed, as if by some miracle. I believe on this one day in Dresden more people died than had supposedly died in Auschwitz throughout all the years of the war. But the war crimes of the Allies are not debatable, even to this day.

 

Just what was the daily routine at Auschwitz? Rising at 7 a.m.. washing, showering, breakfast and roll call, on the job at 8. Lunch from 12-1, and work again until 5 p.m. Roll call once more at 7 p.m., following which the guards posted outside the camp were pulled in and the camp put under guard. Mail was delivered daily. Packages were opened at roll call and examined by the camp supervisor. Only rarely had some of the contents to be withheld, such as for instance, certain medical preparations, books and pamphlets cameras, radios and technical instruments. These things, however, remained the property of the inmates and were stored in a huge warehouse called “Kanada“, where also all possessions of Jews interned at Auschwitz, were kept.

 

Translated synopsis: —
September, 1944. International Red Cross Committee Report on Auschwitz P. 91 and 92. The Red Cross Delegate states that the inmates could receive parcels.
That the officers with whom he came in contact were amicable and reticent, like those at Oranienburg and Ravensbruck. That he saw many groups of men and women in small working commandos. That the British Red Cross “Insider” was a member of the British Commandos and that he mentioned to the Red Cross delegate he had heard rumours of gas chambers. However, the Red Cross delegate after careful inspection, could not verify these rumours.

 

[Page 11]

 

Author and wife on leave in the East. 1944.

 

Kanada” was kept under guard at all times to prevent looting from the outside. In our weather station we had a female SS-worker who, on one occasion, “organized” a pair of stockings for herself from “Kanada“. She was court-martialled for “plundering“. However, the inmates themselves, who worked there, stole constantly.

 

[Page 12]

 

Surprising to me was the elegance of the inmates’ wearing apparel. Their outer garments did, of course, consist of uniforms, but all other apparel, including shoes, was of the finest quality, nor was there any lack in beauty care, and make-up was all part of the female dress. Every Saturday our women were sent to the main camp for an exchange of laundry and they brought back alluring bits of booty, which were then distributed among the inmates. It was a type of theft that I think was being quietly tolerated.

 

 

Olga

 

In May my wife, for the first time, came to visit me. She was a teacher in agricultural home economics and was curious about my work at the concentration camp. This fact alone, that we were able to have our relatives visit us at any time, should prove that the camp administration had nothing to hide. Had Auschwitz been the death factory it is reputed to have been, such visits would certainly not have been permitted. Formalities, such as even today are required for a visit to that prison camp, otherwise known as East Germany, were not required at Auschwitz. We were a young married couple and had not seen too much of each other in our marriage. I met my wife at the railway station. She wore wooden sandals without stockings and a kerchief over her hair. It was war time and elegance was a luxury we could not afford.

 

At that time 1 had a new cleaning lady — personal maid would have been a more fitting title. Olga! Olga was Polish. She was a factotum. But there was something touching about the solicitous care with which she took my affairs in hand. There were always flowers in my room; always a clean table cloth and clean curtains, and somehow she always managed to have a surprise for me.

 

She had taken special pains in getting my room ready for my wife’s visit. Above my bed she had attached a praying angel to the wall — Lord only knows where she got [Page 13] that! Actually, her care was a bit overpowering, but I had to accept since I didn’t want to hurt the concerned soul that she was.

 

Author on “second honeymoon,” celebrated in camp, with table-setting lovingly prepared by Olga.

 

During my wife’s visit, work was commenced on the india rubber fields and I did not have too much time for my visitor, but she had the best possible companion in Olga, who could talk like a waterfall. My wife felt she should compensate Olga for her thoughtfulness and bought her a small gift. The result was that when I took my wife to the railway station for her trip back home, I hardly recognized her. She was dressed in new clothes from head to toe. Olga had “obtained” everything for her, even a brand new suitcase. My wife had brought me a few delicate morsels saved from her own meager rations, among other things, a piece of butter. Olga managed to make fried potatoes for me evenings and strangely enough there was no end to the butter. Care packages arrived daily and Olga felt duty-bound to include me in the distribution of this bounty. The inmates at Raisko never went hungry, and any new arrival looking somewhat undernourished, after only a few days seemed to have a “smooth fur.”

 

 [Page 14] 

 

 

The Death Camp

 

The death camp was not in Auschwitz, it was at Birkenau.” This is what I heard and read after the war. Well. I was also in Birkenau. This camp I did not like. It was overcrowded and the people there did not make a good impression on me. Everything looked neglected and grubby. I also saw families with children. It hurt to see them, but I was told that the authorities felt it kinder not to separate children from their parents when the latter were interned. Some children played ball merrily enough. Still, I felt children did not belong there and the fact that the English had done likewise — in the Boer War, for instance, was a poor excuse, I said so to my superior. His answer: “I agree with you, but I can’t change it.

 

I had been commissoned to pick 100 workers for hoeing the Kok-Sagis plants. At roll call the inmates were asked if they were interested in this kind of work and if they had done it before. Then followed the “selection” of the workers. This “selection” was later completely misinterpreted. The purpose was to give the inmates something to do and they themselves wanted to be occupied. Selecting them meant no more than to inquire about their inclinations, their capabilities, and their physical state of health with regard to the work they were to do.

 

Kok-Sagis plants in various stages of development.

 

 [Page 15] 

 

The fact was, however, that in Auschwitz there were more people than were jobs. Naturally, I was concerned with getting workers who had experience on farms. Jews, of course, were not experienced for any kind of farm work, whilst on the other had, Poles were excellent farm workers. Gypsies were entirely useless. Detachment 11 — that was the name of our female workers from Birkenau — came every day to work in the fields that lay beyond the outer line of posted guards. I dealt with these people almost daily and listened to their complaints. On one occasion I saw an SS guard kick a woman. I confronted him about this.

 

Women inmates woridng Kol-Sagis fields.
Note absence of guards and standard attire of women.

 

He claimed that the woman had called him a Nazi pig, but the fact was that he had first insulted her. I reported this case and the SS-guard was sent to “Strafbataillon” in Danzig. From this day on, my favor with the inmates rose significantly, especially with those in Detachment 11. They often came to me [Page 16] with requests or complaints and I did whatever I could for them, because to me they were not enemies, they were simply interned. Often, I did favours for them that were against the regulations. Their greatest joy was for me to take them for a walk down to the river Sula, where on those hot summer days of 1944 I allowed them to go bathing.

 

Apart from all else, the hoeing-detachment from Birkenau was a merry bunch. They sang their Polish folk songs while working and the gypsies danced to the melodies. In the beginning, I was quite upset and worried about the undernourished appearance of some of the inmates. Then I learned that they had arrived in rather poor physical shape and it took some time before they had padded themselves with some extra poundage. Often I shared their common noonday meals and fared well doing so.

 

But Detachment 11 also had a secret supply source. The most wonderful things were found by them in unknown hiding places. In the night these were replenished by friends of the inmates. Sometimes these friends even donned inmate attire and marched into the camp, allowing an inmate to take a few days off. Auschwitz was located in Poland and the population helped the inmates as much as possible, though this was officially not permitted.

 

Inmate working in fields (almost hidden by horses).
Note only one single guard at great distance, in far left of photograph.

 

[Page 17]

 

The occupation troops, but especially the so-called civil administration, often roused the antagonism of the population, as was well-known. One measure I decidedly disapproved of was the expropriation of land from small farmers. They had to give it up for agricultural use by the concentration camp. I was told, however, that they were compensated for their property on the same basis as land expropriated from Germans for the construction of autobahns. I also did not like the re-settlement measures that were carried out, but I was told repeatedly that these were never forced on anyone. Curtailment of freedom is hard, but war is tough and it became increasingly tougher for us too. In the fall of 1944, for the first time, the camp at Auschwitz was bombed by American planes. There were about 20 victims among the inmates. I myself had lost faith in victory after the successful landing at the English Channel. Reports from the front became more and more ominous, and the inmates too were well informed — the devil knows through whom.

 

In our area the inmates were looked after now just as well as they had been before. Once a week a film was shown. Camp supervisors and inmates jointly saw, among others, the film “Muenchhausen” and the “Golden City.” Church services were held in community halls. I attended several myself and found them to be quite solemn, especially those of the Russian Orthodox Community, to which our Russian civilian workers also belonged. A theater group had been organized by the inmates and one evening they invited us to a performance of “Faust.” Professional actors could not have produced a better show.

 

As for myself, I would have liked to take some more time off for studies but the war situation was serious and chances were poor. It was suggested that I take a correspondence course, and I sent away for books. An inmate, a Jewish female doctor from Prague offered to help me cram, and she did so every afternoon. This was possible in Raisko.

 

[Page 18]

 

The Jews were intelligent and so far as I got to know them in Auschwitz, quite nice too. In the summer my mother came for a visit and stayed several days. Of course, a fat friendship developed between her and Olga. One. evening my mother asked about the crematorium where corpses were supposed to be burned. I knew nothing about this, so I asked Olga. She could not tell me anything definite either. She did intimate, however, that around Bielitz there always was what seemed to be a reflection against the sky, as if from a fire.

 

So I went in the direction of Bielitz and there found a mining camp in which some inmates also worked. I travelled around the entire camp and examined all fire grates and all smoke stacks, but found nothing. I asked my colleagues; the answer … a shrug of the shoulder and “don’t pay any attention to those rumors.” Actually, there was a crematorium in Auschwitz, I was told, for there were 20,000 people there and any city of that size has a crematorium. Of course people died here as they did elsewhere, but not only inmates at the camp. The wife of one of our supervisors had also died here. As far as I was concerned, that was enough of an answer.

 

During all the time I was in Auschwitz I never in the least observed anything that even indicated mass killings in gas chambers. Also the story of a smell of burned flesh that allegedly hovered over the camp at times was an infamous lie. In the vicinity of the main camp there was a smithy where horses’ hooves were shod. The burning of the horses’ hooves when fitting them with shoes naturally caused an unpleasant smell. Incidentally, the man who was in charge of this particular smithy at the time, now lives in a neighboring village.

 

As a matter of fact, camp regulations became more generous all the time. In the main camp there was now a brothel for the men. Love and sex, is something human after all, and was not withheld from those who were interned. Of course there were also love relationships among the inmates. [Page 19] I doubt that the so-called “house of pleasure” was a deterrent. The fact that such houses did exist for the inmates in Auschwitz was completely ignored in all post-war reports. An admission to such a brothel was a kind of reward for good behaviour. There were also some inmates who flung their ticket into the Kapo’s face. Hats off to them, I say, for that to me was a special show of good behaviour. Olga loved to constantly chatter and her continual gossiping, rumouring and wondering as to whether or not corpses were being burned (whilst I knew for sure there was no such happening) finally got on my nerves. This, plus her almost slavish servitude, brought us to a parting of the ways. She was given a new job, one I did not begrudge her. She was made “overseer” in the women’s camp and it was her job to keep out men who had no business there. Olga had a gift for “raising hell” and could scold so beautifully that it was a joy to see her eject males from the female camp. Her fellow inmates called her “Zerberus“, (hound of hell).

 

Good old Olga, sometimes I wonder what became of her. She didn’t want to return to a Communist Poland — almost none of the inmates wanted that, not even the Jews. Many of them even prayed for a German victory. From a colleague, whom I visited recently, I learned that quite a number of them are in the U.S. He still corresponds with some. Some were also willing to testify on behalf of SS Officers at their trials but were denied this privilege by Allied and especially by West German authorities. These reports were publicized by the “right wing” press at the time.

 

There were no secrets in Auschwitz. In September 1944 a Commission of the Red Cross came to inspect the camp, but it was more interested in the camp at Birkenau.

 

————————-
Publishers note:— Having read the 156-page Report put out by the International Red Cross, it seems strange that Auschwitz, one of the largest camps of its kind and much publicized as being a “death camp,” should warrant only a few paragraphs in the Red Cross reporting, and this would seem to add verity to the statements of Thies Christophersen.
————————-

 

 [Page 20]

 

We also had a great many inspections at Raisko, but the people who came were largely interested in plant cultivation. I was often involved in these tours. Although it was actually not permitted that inmates converse with visitors, they did explain their work to them.

 

Visiting delegation

 

At the time we experimented with colchezin. This is a poison of the Autumn Crocus (colchium autumnale). With the aid of this poison we developed a plant with twice its number of chromosomes. Such plants tended to grow into giants, but at the cost of fertility. The collection of plant seed therefore still played an important role, but the harvesting of the seed was not exactly simple, because the reproduction device of this plant was similar to that of the dandelion. With the aid of some talented mechanics and Russian agronomists, i had begun to construct a harvesting machine. Some Russian agronomists worked with a so-called “longalvanization” method. For this purpose, the inmates built tools [Page 21] that worked with ultra short waves. The material for these I picked up at a shop where planes that had been brought down were dismembered. The inmates also found material there with which they could build small radios. These of course they could not take into the camp. I myself learned to build radios at Auschwitz. My teachers were the inmates and they supplied me with everything I needed for a small receiving set.

 

At Auschwitz we did not of course only cultivate plants. Innumerable research tasks were carried out. Because of the availability of workers there, more and more research work was being delegated to Auschwitz. At that time the place was also fairly safe from air attacks. About every two weeks the SS officers met for a casino night. On these occasions, department leaders spoke about their particular field of work. I heard many interesting lectures there and I do not recall anything that might have been offensive. Later on I heard that experiments were supposed to have been carried out on living human beings. I remember having listened to a lecture on the development of the embryo in the womb of the mother under various kinds of diet. Whether these women had to carry and give birth to a child while subjected, to starvation diets, I cannot say. We were told, however, that these experiments produced valuable insights into the dietary care of pregnancies. Reports on experiments of newly developed medicines carried out on inmates do not appear plausible to me. A medical doctor at Auschwitz told me that new medicines were given to people only when experiments on animals were concluded. This practise is still carried on in all civilized countries.

 

After the war I saw a TV film about Auschwitz that showed a building with huge smoke stacks. I am very sorry, but when I left the camp at Auschwitz in December 1944, I did not see this building. I cannot imagine that these smoke stacks were built in the cold winter of 1944/45, but 1 suspect that these structures were erected after the war. It also seems implausible that, if they should have existed, the SS did not destroy them. During the past few days I have heard a report on the radio according to which 4 million people are supposed to have been shot at Auschwitz. It is an absolute [Page 22] certainty that no people were shot at Auschwitz, because this we would have heard. I do, however, recall one occasion when there was great excitement in the camp. A rumour was being spread that hostages were to be shot. This type of revenge is the most despicable I can think of because it hits innocent people. That it did take place — on either side — is quite likely. If for every bombing victim an inmate should have been killed, none of the 200,000 inmates would have left a concentration camp alive. On this basis, considering that Auschwitz was in operation only four years, one million people a year or 3,000 per day would have had to die. Just what would a crematorium look like in which 3,000 corpses were burned every day? Even mass graves on this order could not be kept secret.

 

Yet the German people continue to believe in these mass murders. Why? We who know the truth, have we not burdened ourselves with an awful responsibility? Why did we keep silent for so long? I shall try to answer these questions.

 

1. We have not kept silent at all. There was no one who wanted to hear our reports, no paper wanted to publish them, no publisher print them.

 

2. Even today there are still enough witnesses alive who could verify my statements and make similar ones of their own. What we need, however, is an unbiased constitutional state. To tell the truth is tantamount to social ostracism and financial suicide.

 

3. I cannot say that I am tired of life, but my life’s task lies behind me; my children are taken care of, and my wife should receive her well-earned pension at 65. At least, I hope it will not be withheld from her if something should happen to me.

 

4. During the long years that I have worked as a journalist and publisher, I have created a small circle of readers and with the aid of the German Citizenship initiative I can publish my reports independently.

 

[Page 23]

 

5. It is being maintained and regretfully also by members and voters of the main German political parties, that “only recognition of our guilt in starting the war and destroying 6 million Jews will make it possible for us to re-enter the community of nations and that whoever denies that, brings great harm to the German people.”

 

6. However, to disprove the mass murders in concentration camps would not only prove the entire thrust of post-war German politics to be a mistake, but the post-war politicians still in power would have to admit their political concepts to be entirely. This must not be allowed.

 

7. Of course there were also cowards, liars and paid witnesses. Some of the accused who must have known that the testimony against them was false, still made a confession because they thought — and of this they were no doubt assured — that they would gain advantages for themselves if they adjusted their statements to the testimony of the accusers. However, it must also be stated here, that confessions were obtained through torture.

 

What changes will take place when the disclosure of my own personal experience is made public? Most likely none. Some sort of decree may be issued against me and an attempt might be made to confiscate this pamphlet.

 

Our people, especially our children, must be freed from the feeling of guilt being forced upon them by the victors of the last war — and it is only the truth that will make them free.

 

I have recorded the memories of my experiences as I recall them. I have stated the truth, so help me God. If these my statements contribute to our youth having more respect for their fathers, who as soldiers fought for Germany, and who were definitely not criminals, then I shall be very happy.

 

Kaelberhagen, January 3, 1973.
2341 Mohrkirch/Kalberhagen. Tel. (0 48 46) 8 88.

 

[Page 24]

 

 

EPILOGUE

 

The publication of AUSCHWITZ (Die Auschwitz-Luege) in March 1973 hit the pseudo-democratic establishment like a bombshell. For almost 30 years the world has been flooded with the official version of so-called ‘Nazi atrocities.‘ All documents and reports of a different truth had been destroyed or suppressed, all witnesses who dared to give the real story were hanged, imprisoned or intimidated so that the Inquisition of the 15th century looked pale in comparison. All historians who dared to publish different facts, came under attack or ridicule and usually lost their contracts for teaching at universities.

 

Some were even murdered.

 

The general public therefore had hardly any access to truthful information and — to a large extent — began to believe that the Germans were brutal monsters who had gassed six million innocent Jews, simply because they were Jews, all of them, of course, nice and good-natured people, the crown of humanity. According to general belief, no Jew was ever killed legally for being a criminal or executed rightfully under martial-law. The death of a Jew is always an illegal act — no questions or doubts allowed.

 

Manfred Roeder, himself having gone through all the methods of re-education, believed for many years that six million Jews had been killed or gassed. He, like so many others, believed that concentration camps were extermination camps. Until he met Thies Christophersen, who told him the real story from his own experience.

 

Christophersen is one of the very few unbiased witnesses who has no ax to grind. He was neither a guard at Auschwitz who may have reason to hide something, nor was he a prisoner who may be inclined to exaggerate his sufferings. Christophersen was a totally neutral person. He had to work with the inmates of the camp, but had no executive power over them nor the right to guard or punish them.

 

His report is so simple and convincing, so un-dramatic, so contrary to everything anybody has heard about Auschwitz, that it puts to shame all other ‘witnesses’ and especially the judges who based their judgments on those dramatic stories of ‘professional witnesses’ even if these stories had to be changed seven times before the court!

 

The publication of this report with the introduction by a lawyer caused a sensation. This was incredible! After 30 years the whole edifice of lies and distortions began to crack. There was an outcry of madness by the Jews. In Tel Aviv the Jewish papers attacked this book as ferociously as they did in all the Western countries. The Jewish Weekly in West Germany dedicated a front page article by chief editor Galinski under the banner headline ‘Liars at Work,’ and he called Christophersen and Roeder the two biggest liars since Goebbels. A [Page 25] flattering compliment because Goebbels was probably the greatest genius of propaganda that ever lived — and his propaganda was based on facts, not lies!

 

Simon Wiesenthal urged the courts and the bar association to take ‘proper action.’

Especially in Mr. Roeder’s preface there are remarks worthwhile investigating.

 

At first, court and bar association refused to do anything. But under growing pressure, finally Roeder was disbarred for his ‘improper radical political views and actions,‘ and another court in Darmstadt sentenced him to seven months imprisonment as well as a $2,000 fine plus court and lawyer costs. Only Roeder was taken to court for his introduction, not Christophersen for his report, because — as the judge sneeringly said to Mr. Roeder —

We have freedom of speech, and anybody can write as he pleases, but your interpretation of Christophersen’s report sounds anti-semitic, and for this criminal attitude you are punished.

 

The court found Roeder guilty of ‘willfully inciting race hatred against a minority‘ (the Jews). Denying the existence of gas chambers may include the assumption that all Jews, who have testified to the contrary, are liars. (Which indeed it does!) The merits of the case contain the following statement:

Even if there had been no extermination program and no persecution of Jews at all (which means that all Jews are liars), it is anti-Semitism to suggest that the Jews are lying, because it would stir up racial hatred! It would endanger the public peace!

 

The Supreme Court of West Germany declared this sentence to be invalid, not because it was ridiculous, arbitrary and contradicting any logic, but because it was too lenient. Another lower court was directed to re-try Mr. Roeder and to increase the punishment to several years, at least, because;

a responsible citizen like a lawyer cannot neglect the well-established facts of recent history. Otherwise he would prove his ill-will against a minority and his criminal intentions.

 

Mr. Roeder is now living in exile since January 1978. Literally dozens of similar ‘charges‘ by kangaroo courts are pending. If he returned to Germany under the present political system and occupation regime he would be immediately arrested and put in jail for ‘defaming democracy‘ (as Plato has done) or for ‘unconstitutional propaganda.‘ By demanding the re-unification of Germany and the withdrawal of all occupation forces, Roeder has become the most ardent regime critic of pseudo-democracy, which he calls mobocracy. For his ‘thought-crimes,‘ as described in the classic study of tyranny by George Orwell in 1984, he is now persecuted by Interpol, and several warrants of arrest have been issued.

 

AUSCHWITZ has become a secret best-seller with youngsters in Germany, as well as the ‘proof of dangerous neo-Nazi activity,‘ which [Page 26] has to be wiped out once and for all. There is hardly any other book that has caused such public controversy and uproar.

 

 [Page 27]

 

JUDISCHE WQCHENZEITUNG

PREIS 80 PEFNNIG

XXVIII. JAHRGANG — NUMMER 28 DUSSELDORF, DEN 13. JULI 1973

 Lugner am Werk

Von Heinz Galinski

Reprinted from the Jewish Weekly of West Germany of July 13, 1973, with the banner headline:

LIARS AT WORK

 

____________________________

 

The article by the chief editor points out that this book (The Auschwitz-Lie) is setting a new record by denying the gas chambers, for no one has dared to lie in such a blatant way since 1945. The authors are obvioulsy following the concept of Hitler and Goebbels. He then quotes extensively from the book and concludes:

This is typical distorted National Socialist propaganda for which there is no room in our democracy and in our constitution. We demand immediate and proper court action against the authors of this book. It would be a serious fault to regard this poisonous pamphlet as unimportant. With this publication the German reactionaries are testing how far they can go in glorifying the Third Reich. Our democratic state must give them the proper answer.

 

[Page 28]

 

 

A Letter from Simon Wiesenthal

 

 

 

DOKUMENTATIONSZENTRUM

DES BUNDES

JODISCHER VERFOLGTER DES NAZI REGIMES

 

An den Praesidenten der Rechtsanwaltkammer.

Zeil 29 (Pres. of the Bar Association)

D-6000 Frankfurt/Main Wien, 10.5.1973/SW/da

 

Dear Mr President:

Enclosed with this letter you will find a brochure called “The Auschwitz Lie”, issued by the “German Citizens Initiative” (Deutsche Buergerinitiative), represented by attorney Manfred Roeder, 614-Bensheim, Roonstrasse 8. We assume that he is a member of your bar association.

 

Apart from the fact that this brochure contains malicious and long disproved statements about the concentration camp Auschwitz and the sufferings of the Jews. there are in Mr Roeder’s preface remarks which are worthwhile investigating by the ethics committee of your bar association.

 

Would you please read this brochure and especially Mr Roeder’s preface, and then make your decisions. In any event, I would appreciate hearing from you.

 

Very truly yours

signed: Simon Wiesenthal

 

________________________________________

 

 

REPLY BY ATTORNEY MANFRED ROEDER:

 

Dear Mr Wiesenthal: 30. May 1973

 

The Bar Association in Frankfurt forwarded to me your letter of May 10 in connection with the brochure “The Auschwitz Lie”. It is my desire to reply to you personally.

 

Are you concerned that a German lawyer does not conform to your new Re-Education Program which was laid down as a rule and guide by your people, and who instead tries to find eyewitnesses and authentic documentation on his own to support the alleged concentration camp atrocities? Your concern is well justified since I had to swear an oath when I was sworn in as an attorney on January 27, 1967,

to preserve the constitutional order, by God the All-knowing and Almighty, and to fulfill the duties of a lawyer faithfully, so help me God”.

 

With that oath I did not obligate myself to respect that version of ‘Truth’ which is authorized or desired by Mr Wiesenthal and his Documentation Center, or to recognize the ‘truth sanctioned in Nuernberg’. Neither am I aware of my colleagues having sworn any additional oaths to this effect.

 

I was all the more left to my own resources in finding witnesses since your ‘Documentation Center’ does not seem to be blessed with plenty of documents. As it was. when I made an urgent request to you [Page 29] for documentary material about the alleged murder of Jews, you did not offer me one single piece. Instead, you referred me to some obscure statistics which were of Jewish origin at that.

 

Since when are statistics proof of murder? According to German law, there has to be an unbroken chain of evidence that a certain human being has murdered someone else, before any accusation can be made or a conviction can be had. But you do not even bother to give the names of the alleged victims, not to speak of the circumstances of their death. You merely compare figures of the Jewish population before and after the war as proof of murder. It would be a similar hypocrisy if I were to say that every human being coming up missing after the war had been killed by the Jews out of revenge. You know only too well what would happen to me in such a case. But you can continue to claim, unchallenged, that every Jew who is missing according to YOUR statistics, was gassed and burnt by the barbaric Germans. You, as a certified engineer, should realize the error of such claims from a technical point of view.

 

There would not have been enough fuel to be found during the war in the entire sphere of German influence to burn just a fraction of so many human bodies. Nowhere have mountains of ashes been found, of course. And the huge installations necessary for such an undertaking, have disappeared from the face of the earth without a trace. Nothing, absolutely nothing could be found after the war. It might interest you that I know enough eyewitnesses now who were in Auschwitz after the war who confirm all of the observations made by Mr Christophersen:

there have never been such extermination installations! But these witnesses fear reprisals by the Poles and certain Jewish organizations, should they come out in the open with the truth. I can only afford to speak out openly as I am freelancing in my profession. You are now trying to exert pressure through the bar association to insure that lawyers in the future will follow only “your sources of truth”. Perhaps you have over-estimated the degree of influence of German lawyers just a little.

 

I am nevertheless grateful for your very enlightening letter. It is the best document from your center in my possession. It proves after all, that you maintain a tight network of information and espionage over all of Germany. Otherwise it would be inexplicable how you could have obtained a copy of the Auschwitz brochure, which, so far, has been handed only to a very select circle of people and has not been offered or sold publicly. I cannot imagine that you count yourself amongst the friends of the German Citizens Initiative.

 

Naturally, I hope for the widest circulation of this brochure and would be very grateful to you if you would distribute some of them among your Jewish friends. As l mentioned in the Preface, I am convinced that this brochure only serves the purpose of finding the truth and every decent Jew will welcome it. Only a fool or war monger could desire to have this horror propaganda against Germany continued.

 

Your letter was remarkable in yet another aspect as well: One gets [Page 30] the impression as though you might be the secret “Gauleiter” of Germany or an agent of some world organization to control and censor public opinion. Who authorized you anyway to watch over the professional activities of German lawyers, and to make suggestions to the bar association?

 

We German lawyers do not appreciate a Jewish or any other form of censorship and domination. Before you snoop around any further in our affairs, maybe it would be more advisable for you to respond to the accusations made by Polish newspapers claiming that you had been a Gestapo agent, lest your hectic Anti-German activities appear to be of the “Hold-the-Thief’ kind.

 

A copy of this letter will be mailed to the bar association. Because of the importance of the matter, I shall publicize our correspondence.

 

Very truly yours,

signed: Manfred Roeder, Attorney

 

 

================ END OF BOOKLET ================

.

Downloads

 

* Original German version of scanned document (PDF). Click to view or download. (2.0 MB)

>>   Die Auschwitz-Lüge

 

* Original English version of scanned booklet (PDF). (5.1 MB)

>>AUSCHWITZ A Personal Account by Thies Christophersen (Booklet)

 

* PDF of this blog post (clean text and images). Click to view or download (1.6 MB).

>>  AUSCHWITZ A Personal Account by Thies Christophersen

 

 

 

===============================================

 

See Also:

 

 

The World’s First Anti-Holocaust Convention — Instauration Dec, 1979

An Open Letter to New Jersey’s Governor

Historians or Hoaxers?

House of Orwell

Misha: Surviving with Wolves or …

Bradley Smith’s Smith Report # 1

The Liberation of the Camps: Facts vs. Lies

The Plum Cake

 

 

 

Auschwitz: Myths and Facts

Powers and Principalities XI – Ewen Cameron, MK-Ultra, Holocaust Revisionism — TRANSCRIPT

Tales of the Holohoax – A Historian’s Assessment – Part 1

The Holocaust Lie — Made in America

Probing the Holocaust: The Horror Explained — TRANSCRIPT

Jim Rizoli Interviews Prof Robert Faurisson, Oct 2015 — TRANSCRIPT

Holocaust Eyewitnesses: Is the Testimony Reliable?

Alain Soral – My Homage to Robert Faurisson, Oct 2018 — TRANSCRIPT

Inside Auschwitz – You’ve never seen THIS before! — TRANSCRIPT

 

 

Amazion Bans 100s of Holocaust Revisionist Books!

AUSCHWITZ – A Personal Account by Thies Christophersen

Jim Rizoli Interviews Bradley Smith — TRANSCRIPT

London Forum – Alfred Schaefer – Psychological Warfare – TRANSCRIPT

The Realist Report Interviews Eric Hunt — TRANSCRIPT

Red Ice Radio – Germar Rudolf – Persecution of Revisionists & Demographic Disaster – Part 1— TRANSCRIPT

Red Ice Radio: Nicholas Kollerstrom — TRANSCRIPT

Red Ice TV – Ingrid Carlqvist – Scandal in Sweden When Ingrid Questions the Unquestionable — TRANSCRIPT

The Realist Report with Carolyn Yeager on Johnson vs Anglin debate — TRANSCRIPT

 

 

============================================

 

 

 

Version History

 

Ver 14: Apr 1, 2022 — Re-uploaded images and PDFs.

 

Ver 13: Jan 28, 2020 — Re-uploaded images and PDFs for katana17.com/wp/ version. Added See Also links.

 

Ver 12 – Dec 29, 2016 — Improved formatting.

 

Ver 11 – Jul 14, 2015 — Improved formatting of chapters.

 

Ver 10 – Jun 23, 2015 — Improved formatting of quotations.

 

Ver 9 – Feb 14, 2015 — Updated cover image. Added Version 2 of PDF of this blog post (improved formatting, etc.)

 

Ver 8 – Jan 23, 2015 — Added thumbnail images of downloads.

 

Ver 7 – Sep 30, 2014 — Improved formatting of quotations.

 

Ver 6 – Fri, May 16, 2014 — Added pages numbers to text to correspond with the page numbering in the booklet. Improved formatting. Updated PDF of this blog post.

 

Ver 5 – Wed, Feb 19, 2014 — Added original English version of booklet (PDF).

 

Ver 4 – Wed, Jan 29, 2014 — Added this blog post as a PDF file. Made this post a “Sticky”.

 

Ver 3 – Thu, Jan 23, 2014 — Added Cover page image from booklet. Added the rest of the text contained in the booklet.

 

Ver 2 – Tue, Jan 21, 2014 — 1. Replaced most images with higher quality images from original German version of booklet. 2. Added original German version of booklet (PDF).

 

Ver 1 – May 5, 2013: Text and Images from original scanned English translation.

 

 

Posted in Auschwitz, Dr. Manfred Roeder, Friedrich Grimm, Holocaust, Holohoax, Jew World Order, Jewish Problem/Question, Jews, Jews - Lying, Mind Control, National Socialism, New World Order, Nuremberg, Propaganda, Propaganda - Anti-German, Revisionism, Simon Wiesenthal, Thies Christophersen, Third Reich, WW II | 23 Comments

The International Jew: The World’s Foremost Problem

Henry Ford

 

The International Jew

 

Chapter 01

 

 

HENRY FORD — THE MAN

 


 

HENRY FORD was born on July 30, 1863, during the American Civil War, on a farm at Dearborn, near Detroit, Michigan. He was the son of William Ford, a prosperous farmer who was of Irish stock. His mother was of mixed Dutch and Scandinavian origin. At 17 he became an apprentice in a machine shop in Detroit, and he also kept a machine shop of his own and worked for a harvester company by repairing their portable farm engines. His mechanical genius showed itself in early youth, and in 1890, when he secured a post with the Detroit Edison Electric Company, he realized that the public were more interested in road vehicles than in tractors and he studied the principles of the gas engine to overcome the weight of steam engines. In 1887 he had built his first gas engine and kept on building more. His first gasoline “buggy” was given a public trial in 1893 at which it attained a speed of 25 miles an hour.

 

 

In 1903 he formed the Ford Motor Company with 12 shareholders and a capital of 100,000 dollars. In 1924 he was producing one thousand of the world-famous Ford motor-cars a day. In 1924 the annual production of the Ford works reached the towering peak of two million cars, trucks and tractors. The secret of his success lay in mass production methods, and high wages. Of humble origin himself he had a deep feeling for his employees, and worked out rough and ready principles in regard to labour which he constantly applied.

 

 

One was to pay the highest possible wages, and in this he was a true reformer; another, to accept applicants for work without questions or references. Many European socialists were impressed by Ford’s proof demonstration that Marx had been rendered obsolete by Ford and that capitalism could be rationalized and moralized. In 1918, Ford, who had been a supporter of President Wilson, had unsuccessfully run for the Senate, and there was some talk later — it caused alarm among the professional politicians — that he would run for the Presidency, but he announced that he would not stand against Coolidge. Ford made great endeavours, most of them impracticable, to negotiate peace between the warring nations of Europe in the first world war.

 

The Dearborn Independent“, May 22, 1920 (click image to enlarge)

 

In 1920 he went into print and bought “The Dearborn Independent,” a virile and very independent journal published in his home town. It was noted for its courageous and continuous examination of the Jewish Question in America, and for its objective views on true Americanism.

 

Ford was accused by many Jews, along with Deterding and Greuger, to be a financial backer of the Hitler movement in Germany. At the Nuremberg Tribunal, Baldur Von Shirach, Hitler Youth Leader, said he had become “Jew-wise” through reading Ford’s books.

 

Ford was a resolute opponent of Roosevelt’s policy of “controls” in industry and commerce, but in his later years his political and other public activities were few. He died aged 83, at Detroit, April 7, 1947. A famous American and one of the world’s outstanding individuals.

 

 

See: Henry Ford — Part 1: Introduction — What is the Idea?

 

 

In his book “My Life and Work,” published in 1922, Henry Ford includes the following concerning the “International Jew” series of articles:

 

“The work which we describe as Studies in the Jewish Question, and which is variously described by antagonists as “the Jewish campaign,” “the attack on the Jews,” “the anti-Semitic pogrom,” and so forth, needs no explanation to those who have followed it.

 

Its motives and purposes must be judged by the work itself. It is offered as a contribution to a question which deeply affects the country, a question which is racial at its source, and which concerns influences and ideals rather than persons. Our statements must be judged by candid readers who are intelligent enough to lay our words alongside life as they are able to observe it. If our word and their observation agree, the case is made. It is perfectly silly to begin to damn us before it has been shown that our statements are baseless or reckless. The first item to be considered is the truth of what we have set forth. And that is precisely the item which our critics choose to evade. Readers of our articles will see at once that we are not actuated by any kind of prejudice, except it may be a prejudice in favour of the principles which have made our civilization.

 

There had been observed in this country certain streams of influence which were causing a marked deterioration in our literature, amusements, and social conduct; business was departing from its old-time substantial soundness; a general letting-down of standards was felt everywhere. It was not the robust coarseness of the white man, the rude indelicacy, say, of Shakespeare’s characters, but a nasty Orientalism which has insidiously affected every channel of expression — and to such an extent that it was time to challenge it. The fact that these influences are all traceable to one racial source is a fact to be reckoned with, … Our work does not pretend to say that last word on the Jew in America. It says only the word which describes his present impress on that country. When that impress is changed, the report of it can be changed, … Our opposition is only to ideas, false ideas . . . which are sapping the moral stamina of the people. These ideas proceed from easily identified sources, they are promulgated by easily discoverable methods and they are controlled by mere exposure.

 

When people learn to identify the source and nature of these influences swirling around them, it is sufficient. Let the American people once understand that it is not natural degeneracy but calculated subversion that inflicts us, and they are safe. The explanation is the cure. This work was taken up without personal motives. When it reached a stage where we believed the American people could grasp the key, we let it rest for the time. Our enemies say that we began it for revenge and that we laid it down in fear. Time will show that our critics are merely dealing in evasion because they dare not tackle the main question.”

 

 

====================================

 

 

 

The International Jew,

 

by Henry Ford

 

Volume One: The International Jew:

 

The World’s Foremost Problem (1920)

 

Chapter 1

 

 

“Among the distinguishing mental and moral traits of the Jews may be mentioned: distaste for hard or violent physical labor; a strong family sense and philoprogenitiveness; a marked religious instinct; the courage of the prophet and martyr rather than of the pioneer and soldier; remarkable power to survive in adverse environments, combined with great ability to retain racial solidarity; capacity for exploitation, both individual and social; shrewdness and astuteness in speculation and money matters generally; an Oriental love of display and a full appreciation of the power and pleasure of social position; a very high average of intellectual ability.”

 

The New International Encyclopedia.

 

 

The Jew in Character and Business

 

The Jew is again being singled out for critical attention throughout the world. His emergence in the financial, political and social spheres has been so complete and spectacular since the war, that his place, power and purpose in the world are being given a new scrutiny, much of it unfriendly. Persecution is not a new experience to the Jew, but intensive scrutiny of his nature and super-nationality is. He has suffered for more than 2,000 years from what may be called instinctive anti-Semitism of the other races, but this antagonism has never been intelligent nor has it been able to make itself intelligible. Nowadays, however, the Jew is being placed, as it were, under the microscope of economic observation that the reasons for his power, the reasons for his separateness, the reasons for his suffering may be defined and understood. In Russia he is charged with being the source of Bolshevism, an accusation which is serious or not according to the circle in which it is made; we in America, hearing the fervid eloquence and perceiving the prophetic ardor of young Jewish apostles of social and industrial reform, can calmly estimate how it may be. In Germany he is charged with being the cause of the Empire’s collapse and a very considerable literature has sprung up, bearing with it a mass of circumstantial evidence that gives the thinker pause. In England he is charged with being the real world ruler, who rules as a super-nation over the nations, rules by the power of gold, and who plays nation against nation for his own purposes, remaining himself discreetly in the background. In America it is pointed out to what extent the elder Jews of wealth and the younger Jews of ambition swarmed through the war organizations — principally those departments which dealt with the commercial and industrial business of war, and also the extent to which they have clung to the advantage which their experience as agents of the government gave them.

 

In simple words, the question of the Jews has come to the fore, but like other questions which lend themselves to prejudice, efforts will be made to hush it up as impolitic for open discussion. If, however, experience has taught us anything it is that questions thus suppressed will sooner or later break out in undesirable and unprofitable forms.

 

The Jew is the world’s enigma. Poor in his masses, he yet controls the world’s finances. Scattered abroad without country or government, he yet presents a unity of race continuity which no other people has achieved. Living under legal disabilities in almost every land, he has become the power behind many a throne. There are ancient prophecies to the effect that the Jew will return to his own land and from that center rule the world, though not until he has undergone an assault by the united nations of mankind.

 

The single description which will include a larger percentage of Jews than members of any other race is this: he is in business. It may be only gathering rags and selling them, but he is in business. From the sale of old clothes to the control of international trade and finance, the Jew is supremely gifted for business. More than any other race he exhibits a decided aversion to industrial employment, which he balances by an equally decided adaptability to trade. The Gentile boy works his way up, taking employment in the productive or technical departments; but the Jewish boy prefers to begin as messenger, salesman or clerk — anything — so long as it is connected with the commercial side of the business. An early Prussian census illustrates this characteristic: of a total population of 269,400, the Jews comprised six per cent or 16,164. Of these, 12,000 were traders and 4,164 were workmen. Of the Gentile population, the other 94 per cent, or 153,236 people, there were only 17,000 traders.

 

A modern census would show a large professional and literary class added to the traders, but no diminution of the percentage of traders and not much if any increase in the number of wage toilers. In America alone most of the big business, the trusts and the banks, the natural resources and the chief agricultural products, especially tobacco, cotton and sugar, are in the control of Jewish financiers or their agents. Jewish journalists are a large and powerful group here. “Large numbers of department stores are held by Jewish firms,” says the Jewish Encyclopedia, and many if not most of them are run under Gentile names. Jews are the largest and most numerous landlords of residence property in the country. They are supreme in the theatrical world. They absolutely control the circulation of publications throughout the country. Fewer than any race whose presence among us is noticeable, they receive daily an amount of favorable publicity which would be impossible did they not have the facilities for creating and distributing it themselves.

 

Werner Sombart, in his “Jew and Modern Capitalism” says:

 

If the conditions in America continue to develop along the same lines as in the last generation, if the immigration statistics and the proportion of births among all the nationalities remain the same, our imagination may picture the United States of fifty or a hundred years hence as a land inhabited only by Slavs, Negroes and Jews, wherein the Jews will naturally occupy the position of economic leadership.” Sombart is a pro-Jewish writer.

 

The question is, If the Jew is in control, how did it happen? This is a free country. The Jew comprises only about three per cent of the population; to every Jew there are 97 Gentiles; to the 3,000,000 Jews in the United States there are 97,000,000 Gentiles. If the Jew is in control, is it because of his superior ability, or is it because of the inferiority and don’t-care attitude of the Gentiles?

 

It would be very simple to answer that the Jews came to America, took their chances like other people and proved more successful in the competitive struggle. But that would not include all the facts. And before a more adequate answer can be given, two points should be made clear. This first is this: all Jews are not rich controllers of wealth. There are poor Jews aplenty, though most of them even in their poverty are their own masters. While it may be true that the chief financial controllers of the country are Jews, it is not true that every Jew is one of the financial controllers of the country. The classes must be kept distinct for a reason which will appear when the methods of the rich Jews and the methods of the poor Jews to gain power are differentiated. Secondly; the fact of Jewish solidarity renders it difficult to measure Gentile and Jewish achievements by the same standard. When a great block of wealth in America was made possible by the lavish use of another block of wealth from across the seas; that is to say, when certain Jewish immigrants came to the United States with the financial backing of European Jewry behind them, it would be unfair to explain the rise of that class of immigration by the same rules which account for the rise of, say, the Germans or the Poles who came here with no resource but their ambition and strength. To be sure, many individual Jews come in that way, too, with no dependence but themselves, but it would not be true to say that the massive control of affairs which is exercised by Jewish wealth was won by individual initiative; it was rather the extension of financial control across the sea.

 

That, indeed, is where any explanation of Jewish control must begin. Here is a race whose entire period of national history saw them peasants on the land, whose ancient genius was spiritual rather than material, bucolic rather than commercial, yet today, when they have no country, no government, and are persecuted in one way or another everywhere they go, they are declared to be the principal though unofficial rulers of the earth. How does so strange a charge arise, and why do so many circumstances seem to justify it?

 

Begin at the beginning. During the formative period of their national character the Jews lived under a law which made plutocracy and pauperism equally impossible among them. Modern reformers who are constructing model social systems on paper would do well to look into the social system under which the early Jews were organized. The Law of Moses made a “money aristocracy,” such as Jewish financiers form today, impossible because it forbade the taking of interest. It made impossible also the continuous enjoyment of profit wrung out of another’s distress. Profiteering and sheer speculation were not favored under the Jewish system. There could be no land-hogging; the land was apportioned among the people, and though it might be lost by debt or sold under stress, it was returned every 50 years to its original family ownership, at which time, called “The Year of Jubilee,” there was practically a new social beginning. The rise of great landlords and a moneyed class was impossible under such a system, although the interim of 50 years gave ample scope for individual initiative to assert itself under fair competitive conditions.

 

If, therefore, the Jews had retained their status as a nation, and had remained in Palestine under the Law of Moses, they would hardly have achieved the financial distinction which they have since won. Jews never got rich out of one another. Even in modern times they have not become rich out of each other but out of the nations among whom they dwelt. Jewish law permitted the Jew to do business with a Gentile on a different basis than that on which he did business with a brother Jew. What is called “the Law of the Stranger” was defined thus:

 

Unto a stranger thou mayest lend upon usury; but unto thy brother thou shalt not lend upon usury.

 

Being dispersed among the nations, but never merging themselves with the nations and never losing a very distinctive identity, the Jew has had the opportunity to practice “the ethics of the stranger” for many centuries. Being strangers among strangers, and often among cruelly hostile strangers, they have found this law a compensating advantage. Still, this alone would not account for the Jew’s preeminence in finance. The explanation of that must be sought in the Jew himself, his vigor, resourcefulness and special proclivities.

 

Very early in the Jewish story we discover the tendency of Israel to be a master nation, with other nations as its vassals. Notwithstanding the fact that the whole prophetic purpose with reference to Israel seems to have been the moral enlightenment of the world through its agency, Israel’s “will to mastery” apparently hindered that purpose. At least such would seem to be the tone of the Old Testament. Divinely ordered to drive out the Canaanites that their corrupt ideas might not contaminate Israel, the Jews did not obey, according to the old record. They looked over the Canaanitish people and perceived what great amount of man-power would be wasted if they were expelled, and so Israel enslaved them —

 

And it came to pass, when Israel was strong, that they put the Canaanites to tribute, and did not utterly drive them out.

 

It was this form of disobedience, this preference of material mastery over spiritual leadership, that marked the beginning of Israel’s age-long disciplinary distress.

 

The Jews’ dispersion among the nations temporarily (that is, for more than 25 centuries now) changed the program which their scriptures declare was divinely planned, and that dispersion continues until today. There are spiritual leaders in modern Judaism who still claim that Israel’s mission to the nations is spiritual, but their assertions that Israel is today fulfilling that mission are not as convincing as they might be if accompanied by more evidence. Israel, throughout the modern centuries is still looking at the Gentile world and estimating what its man-power can be made to yield. But the discipline upon Israel still holds; he is an exile from his own land, condemned to be discriminated against wherever he goes, until the time when exile and homelessness shall end in a re-established Palestine, and Jerusalem again the moral center of the earth, even as the elder prophets have declared.

 

Had the Jew become an employee, a worker for other men, his dispersion would not probably have been so wide. But becoming a trader, his instincts drew him round the habitable earth. There were Jews in China at an early date. They appeared as traders in England at the time of the Saxons. Jewish traders were in South America 100 years before the Pilgrim Fathers landed at Plymouth Rock. Jews established the sugar industry in the Island of St. Thomas in 1492. They were well established in Brazil when only a few villages dotted the eastern coast of what is now the United States. And how far they penetrated when once they came here is indicated by the fact that the first white child born in Georgia was a Jew — Isaac Minis. The Jew’s presence round the earth, his clannishness with his own people, made him a nation scattered among the nations, a corporation with agents everywhere.

 

Another talent, however, contributed greatly to his rise in financial power — his ability to invent new devices for doing business. Until the Jew was pitted against the world, business was very crudely done. And when we trace the origins of many of the business methods which simplify and facilitate trade today, more likely than not we find a Jewish name at the end of the clue. Many of the indispensable instruments of credit and exchange were thought out by Jewish merchants, not only for use between themselves, but to check and hold the Gentiles with whom they dealt. The oldest bill of exchange extant was drawn by a Jew — one Simon Rubens. The promissory note was a Jewish invention, as was also the check “payable to bearer.

 

An interesting bit of history attaches to the “payable to bearer” instrument. The Jews’ enemies were always stripping them of their last ounce of wealth, yet strangely, the Jews recovered very quickly and were soon rich again. How this sudden recovery from looting and poverty? Their assets were concealed under “bearer” and so a goodly portion was always saved. In an age when it was lawful for any pirate to seize goods consigned to Jews, the Jews were able to protect themselves by consigning goods on policies that bore no names.

 

The influence of the Jew was to center business around goods instead of persons. Previously all claims had been against persons; the Jew knew that the goods were more reliable than the persons with whom he dealt, and so he contrived to have claims laid against goods. Besides, this device enabled him to keep himself out of sight as much as possible. This introduced an element of hardness into business, inasmuch as it was goods which were being dealt in rather than men being dealt with, and this hardness remains. Another tendency which survives and which is of advantage in veiling the very large control which Jews have attained, is of the same origin as “bearer” bills; it permits a business dominated by Jewish capital to appear under a name that gives no hint of Jewish control.

 

The Jew is the only and original international capitalist, but as a rule he prefers not to emblazon that fact upon the skies; he prefers to use Gentile banks and trust companies as his agents and instruments. The suggestive term “Gentile front” often appears in connection with this practice. The invention of the stock exchange is also credited to Jewish financial talent. In Berlin, Paris, London, Frankfort, and Hamburg, Jews were in control of the first stock exchanges, while Venice and Genoa were openly referred to in the talk of the day as “Jew cities” where great trading and banking facilities might be found. The Bank of England was established upon the counsel and assistance of Jewish emigrants from Holland. The Bank of Amsterdam and the Bank of Hamburg both arose through Jewish influence.

 

There is a curious fact to be noted in connection with the persecution and consequent wanderings of the Jews about Europe and that is: wherever they wandered, the center of business seemed to go with them. When the Jews were free in Spain, there was the world’s gold center. When Spain drove out the Jews, Spain lost financial leadership and has never regained it. Students of the economic history of Europe have always been puzzled to discover why the center of trade should have shifted from Spain, Portugal and Italy, up to the northern countries of Holland, Germany, and England. They have sought for the cause in many things, but none has proved completely explanatory. When, however, it is known that the change was coincident with the expulsion of the Jews from the South and their flight to the North, when it is known that upon the Jews’ arrival the northern countries began a commercial life which has flourished until our day, the explanation does not seem difficult. Time and again it has proved to be the fact that when the Jews were forced to move, the center of the world’s precious metals moved with them.

 

This distribution of the Jews over Europe and the world, each Jewish community linked in a fellowship of blood, faith and suffering with every other group, made it possible for the Jew to be international in the sense that no other race or group of merchants could be at that time. Not only were they everywhere (Americans and Russians are everywhere, too) but they were in touch. They were organized before the days of conscious international commercial organizations, they were bound together by the sinews of a common life. It was observed by many writers in the Middle Ages that the Jews knew more of what was transpiring in Europe than the governments did. They also had better knowledge of what was likely to occur. They knew more about conditions than the statesmen did. This information they imparted by letter from group to group, country to country. Indeed, they may be said thus to have originated unconsciously the financial news-letter. Certainly the information they were able to obtain and thus distribute was invaluable to them in their speculative enterprises. Advance knowledge was an immense advantage in the days when news was scarce, slow and unreliable.

 

This enabled Jewish financiers to become the agents of national loans, a form of business which they encouraged wherever possible. The Jew has always desired to have nations for his customers. National loans were facilitated by the presence of members of the same family of financiers in various countries, thus making an interlocking directorate by which king could be played against king, government against government, and the shrewdest use made of national prejudices and fears, all to the no small profit of the fiscal agent.

 

One of the charges most commonly made against Jewish financiers today is that they still favor this larger field of finance. Indeed, in all the criticism that is heard regarding the Jew as a business man, there is comparatively little said against him as an individual merchant serving individual customers. Thousands of small Jewish merchants are highly respected by their trade, just as tens of thousands of Jewish families are respected as our neighbors. The criticism, insofar as it respects the more important financiers, is not racial at all. Unfortunately the element of race, which so easily lends itself to misinterpretation as racial prejudice, is injected into the question by the mere fact that the chain of international finance as it is traced around the world discloses at every link a Jewish capitalist, financial family, or a Jewish-controlled banking system. Many have professed to see in this circumstance a conscious organization of Jewish power for Gentile control, while others have attributed the circumstance to Jewish racial sympathies, to the continuity of their family affairs down the line of descent, and to the increase of collateral branches. In the old Scriptural phrase, Israel grows as the vine grows, ever shooting out new branches and deepening old roots, but always part of the one vine.

 

The Jew’s aptitude for dealing with governments may also be traced to the years of his persecution. He early learned the power of gold in dealing with mercenary enemies. Wherever he went there followed him like a curse the aroused antipathy of other peoples. The Jew was never popular as a race; even the most fervid Jew will not deny that, howsoever he may explain it. Individuals have been popular, of course; many phases of Jewish nature are found to be very lovable when known; but nevertheless one of the burdens the Jews have had to bear as a race is this burden of racial unpopularity. Even in modern times, in civilized countries, in conditions which render persecution absolutely impossible, this unpopularity exists. And what is more, the Jew has not seemed to care to cultivate the friendship of the Gentile masses, due perhaps to the failures of experience, but due more likely to his inborn persuasion that he belongs to a superior race. Whatever the true reason, he has always placed his main dependence on cultivating friendship with kings and nobles. What cared the Jew if the people gnashed their teeth against him, so long as the king and the court were his friends? Thus there was always, even through most of the severely trying times, “a court Jew,” one who had bought by loans and held by the strangle-hold of debt an entrance to the king’s chamber. The policy of the Jews has always been to “go to headquarters.” They never tried to placate the Russian people, but they did endeavor to enlist the Russian court. They never tried to placate the German people, but they did succeed in permeating the German court. In England they shrug their shoulders at the outspoken anti-Jew reactions of the British populace — what care they? Have they not all of lorddom at their heels, do they not hold the strings of Britain’s purse?

 

Through this ability of theirs to “go to headquarters” it is possible to account for the stronghold they got upon various governments and nations. Added to this ability was, of course, the ability to produce what the governments wanted. If a government wanted a loan, the Jew at court could arrange it through Jews at other financial centers and political capitals. If one government wanted to pay another government a debt without risking the precious metal to a mule train through a robber-infested country, the Jew at court arranged that too. He transferred a piece of paper and the debt was paid by the banking house at the foreign capital. The first time an army was ever fed in the modern commissary way, it was done by a Jew — he had the capital and he had the system; moreover he had the delight of having a nation for his customer.

 

And this tendency, which served the race so well throughout the troublous centuries, shows no sign of abatement. Certainly, seeing to what an extent a race numerically so unimportant influences the various governments of the world today, the Jew who reflects upon the disparity between his people’s numbers and their power may be pardoned if he sees in that fact a proof of their racial superiority.

 

It may be said also that Jewish inventiveness in business devices continues to the present time, as well as Jewish adaptability to changing conditions. The Jew is credited with being the first to establish branch houses in foreign countries in order that responsible representatives of the home office might be on the ground taking instant advantage of every opening. During the war a great deal was said about the “peaceful penetration” which the “German Government” had effected in the United States by establishing here branch offices and factories of German firms. The fact that there were many German branch houses here is unquestionable. It should be known, however, that they were not the evidence of German enterprise but of Jewish enterprise. The old German business houses were too conservative to “run after customers” even in the hustling United States, but the Jewish firms were not, and they came straight to America and hustled. In due time the competition forced the more conservative German firms to follow suit.

 

But the idea was Jewish in its origin, not German.

 

Another modern business method whose origin is credited to Jewish financiers is that by which related industries are brought together, as for example, if an electrical power company is acquired, then the street railway company using the electricity would be acquired too, one purpose being in this way to conserve all the profit accruing along the line, from the origination of the power down to the delivery of the street car ride; but perhaps the main purpose being that, by the control of the power house the price of current could be increased to the car company, and by the control of the car company the cost of a ride could be increased to the public, the controllers thus receiving an additional profit all down the line. There is much of this going on in the world today, and in the United States particularly. The portion of the business immediately next to the ultimate consumer explains that its costs have risen, but it does not explain that the costs were increased by the owners and not by outsiders who were forced to do so by economic pressure.

 

There is apparently in the world today a central financial force which is playing a vast and closely organized game, with the world for its table and universal control for its stakes. The people of civilized countries have lost all confidence in the explanation that “economic conditions” are responsible for all the changes that occur. Under the camouflage of “economic law” a great many phenomena have been accounted for which were not due to any law whatever except the law of the selfish human will as operated by a few men who have the purpose and the power to work on a wide scale with nations as their vassals.

 

Whatever else may be national, no one today believes that finance is national. Finance is international. Nobody today believes that international finance is in any way competitive. There are some independent banking houses, but few strong independent ones. The great masters, the few whose minds see clearly the entire play of the plan, control numerous banking houses and trust companies, and one is used for this while another is used for that, but there is no disharmony between them, no correction of each other’s methods, no competition in the interests of the business world. There is as much unity of policy between the principal banking houses of every country as there is between the various branches of the United States Post Office — and for the same reason, namely, they are all operated from the same source and for the same purpose.

 

Just before the war Germany bought very heavily in American cotton and had huge quantities of it tied up here for export. When war came, the ownership of that mountainous mass of cotton wealth changed in one night from Jewish names in Hamburg to Jewish names in London. At this writing cotton is selling in England for less than it is selling in the United States, and the effect of that is to lower the American price. When the price lowers sufficiently, the market is cleared of cotton by buyers previously prepared, and then the price soars to high figures again. In the meantime, the same powers that have engineered the apparently causeless strengthening and weakening of the cotton market, have seized upon stricken Germany to be the sweatshop of the world. Certain groups control the cotton, lend it to Germany to be manufactured, leave a pittance of it there in payment for the labor that was used, and then profiteer the length and breadth of the world on the lie that “cotton is scarce.” And when, tracing all these anti-social and colossally unfair methods to their source, it is found that the responsible parties all have a common characteristic, is it any wonder that the warning which comes across the sea — “Wait until America becomes awake to the Jew!” — has a new meaning?

 

Certainly, economic reasons no longer explain the condition in which the world finds itself today. Neither does the ordinary explanation of “the heartlessness of capital.” Capital has endeavored as never before to meet the demands of labor, and labor has gone to extremes in leading capital to new concessions — but what has it advantaged either of them? Labor has heretofore thought that capital was the sky over it, and it made the sky yield, but behold, there was yet an higher sky which neither capital nor labor had seen in their struggles one with another. That sky is so far unyielding.

 

That which we call capital here in America is usually money used in production, and we mistakenly refer to the manufacturer, the manager of work, the provider of tools and jobs — we refer to him as the “capitalist.” Oh, no. He is not the capitalist in the real sense. Why, he himself must go to capitalists for the money with which to finance his plans. There is a power yet above him — a power which treats him far more callously and holds him in a more ruthless hand than he would ever dare display to labor. That, indeed, is one of the tragedies of these times, that “labor” and “capital” are fighting each other, when the conditions against which each one of them protests, and from which each one of them suffers, is not within their power to remedy at all, unless they find a way to wrest world control from that group of international financiers who create and control both these conditions.

 

There is a super-capitalism which is supported wholly by the fiction that gold is wealth. There is a super-government which is allied to no government, which is free from them all, and yet which has its hand in them all. There is a race, a part of humanity, which has never yet been received as a welcome part, and which has succeeded in raising itself to a power that the proudest Gentile race has never claimed — not even Rome in the days of her proudest power. It is becoming more and more the conviction of men all over the world that the labor question, the il first of all this matter of an international super-capitalistic government is settled.

 

To the victor belongs the spoils” is an old saying. And in a sense it is true that if all this power of control has been gained and held by a few men of a long-despised race, then either they are super-men whom it is powerless to resist, or they are ordinary men whom the rest of the world has permitted to obtain an undue and unsafe degree of power. Unless the Jews are super-men, the Gentiles will have themselves to blame for what has transpired, and they can look for rectification in a new scrutiny of the situation and a candid examination of the experiences of other countries.

 

[THE DEARBORN INDEPENDENT, issue of 22 May 1920]

 

 

———————————

 

Version History

 

Version 4: Apr 28, 2022 — Re-uploaded images for katana17.com.

 

Version 3: Mar 4, 2019 — Improved formatting. Added 5 images.

 

Version 2: Apr 29, 2016 — Formatting improvements.

 

Version 1: Sep 14, 2014 — Created post.

Posted in America, Europe, Henry Ford, International Finance, Jewish Problem/Question, Jews, Jews - Lying, Media - jewish domination, Mind Control, Russia, The International Jew | 1 Comment