Uncle Adolf’s table talk, 3



Night of 11th-12th July 1941

The natural piety of man—Russian atheists know how to die—No atheistical education.

I think the man who contemplates the universe with his eyes wide open is the man with the greatest amount of natural piety: not in the religious sense, but in the sense of an intimate harmony with things.

Man has discovered in nature the wonderful notion of that all-mighty being whose law he worships. Fundamentally in everyone there is the feeling for this all-mighty, which we call God (that is to say, the dominion of natural laws throughout the whole universe). The priests, who have always succeeded in exploiting this feeling, threaten punishments for the man who refuses to accept the creed they impose. When one provokes in a child a fear of the dark, one awakens in him a feeling of atavistic dread. Thus this child will be ruled all his life by this dread, whereas another child, who has been intelligently brought up, will be free of it.

It’s said that every man needs a refuge where he can find consolation and help in unhappiness. I don’t believe it! If humanity follows that path, it’s solely a matter of tradition and habit. That’s a lesson, by the way, that can be drawn from the Bolshevik front. The Russians have no God, and that doesn’t prevent them from being able to face death. We don’t want to educate anyone in atheism.

Published in: on November 22, 2015 at 9:18 am  Comments (2)  

Europe’s awakening


by Michael O’Meara


Excerpted from his book-review “The Shock of History”
originally published in 2011 at the old Alternative Right:


Dominique Venner’s thesis is that: Europeans, after having been militarily, politically, and morally crushed by events largely of their own making, have been lost in sleep (“in dormition”) for the last half-century and are now—however slowly—beginning to experience a “shock of history” that promises to wake them, as they are forced to defend an identity of which they had previously been almost unconscious.

Like cascading catastrophes (the accelerating decomposition of America’s world empire, Europe’s Islamic colonization, the chaos-creating nihilism of global capitalism, etc.), the shock of history today is becoming more violent and destructive, making it harder for Europeans to stay lulled in the deep, oblivious sleep that follows a grievous wound to the soul itself—the deep curative sleep prescribed by their horrendous civil wars (1914-1918 and 1939-1945), by the ensuing impositions of the Soviet / American occupation and of the occupation’s collaborationist regimes, and, finally, today, by a demographic tsunami promising to sweep away their kind.


The Sleep

The Second European Civil War of 1939-1945, however it is interpreted, resulted in a cataclysmic defeat not just for Hitler’s Germany, but for Europe, much of which, quite literally, was reduced to mounds of smoldering rumble. Then, at Yalta, adding insult to injury, the two extra-European super-powers partitioned the Continent, deprived her states of sovereignty, and proceeded to Americanize or Sovietize the “systems” organizing and managing the new postwar European order.

As Europe’s lands and institutions were assumed by alien interests, her ancient roots severed, and her destiny forgotten, Europeans fell into dormition, losing consciousness of who they were as a people and a civilization—believing, as they were encouraged, that they were simply one people among the world’s many peoples—nothing special—except in their evil.


Worse, for their unpardonable sins—for what Europeans did to Jews in the war, to Blacks in the slave trade, to non-White peoples in general over the course of the last 500 years—for all the terrible sins Europeans have committed, they are henceforth denied the “right” to be a “people.” In the Messianic spirit of Communism and Americanism, the Orwellian occupiers and collaborators have since refused them a common origin (roots), a shared history, a tradition, a destiny. This reduces them to a faceless economic-administrative collectivity, which is expected, in the end, to negate the organic basis of its own existence.

The postwar assault on European identity entailed, however, more than a zombifying campaign of guilt-inducement—though this campaign was massive in scale. Europe after Jahre Null was re-organized according to extra-European models and then overwhelmed with imported forms of mass consumerism and entertainment. At the same time and with perhaps greater severity, she was subject to an unprecedented “brain-washing” (in schools, media, the so-called arts, public institutions, and private corporations)—as all Europe’s family of nations, not just the defeated Germans, were collectively made to bear a crushing guilt—under the pretext of the Shoah or the legacy of colonialism / imperialism / slavery—their sins requiring the most extreme penance. Thus tainted, her memory and identity are now verboten…

In one sense, Venner’s Europe is the opposite of the America that has distorted Europe’s fate for the last half-century. But he is no knee-jerk anti-American (though the French, in my view, have good cause to be anti-US). He’s also written several books on the US War of Secession, in which much of America’s Cavalier heritage is admired. Knowing something of the opposed tendencies shaping American “national” life, he’s well aware of the moral abyss separating, say, Jesse James from Jay Gould—and what makes one an exemplar of the European spirit and the other its opposite.

Modeled on the Old Testament, not the Old World, Venner claims America’s New World (both as a prolongation and rejection of Europe) was born of New England Calvinism and secularized in John O’Sullivan’s “Manifest Destiny.”

Emboldened by the vast, virgin land of their wilderness enterprise and the absence of traditional authority, America’s Seventeenth-century Anglo-Puritan settlers set out, in the spirit of their radical-democratic Low Church crusade, to disown the colony’s Anglo-European parents—which meant disowning the idea (old as Herodotus) that Europe is “the home of liberty and true government.”

Believing herself God’s favorite, this New Zion aspired—as a Promised Land of liberty, equality, fraternity—to jettison Europe’s aesthetic and aristocratic standards for the sake of its religiously-inspired materialism. Hence, the bustling, wealth-accumulating, tradition-opposing character of the American project, which offends every former conception of the Cosmos.

New England, to be sure, is not the whole of America, for the South, among another sections, has a quite different narrative, but it was the Yankee version of the “American epic” that became dominant, and it is thus the Yankee version that everywhere wars on Americans of European descent.

Citing Huntington’s Who Are We?, Venner says US elites (“cosmocrats,” he calls them) pursue a transnational / universalist vision (privileging global markets and human rights) that opposes every “nativist” sense of nation and culture—a transnational / universalist vision the cosmocrats hope to impose on the whole world. For like Russian Bolsheviks and “the Bolsheviks of the Seventeenth century,” these money-worshipping liberal elites hate the Old World and seek a new man, Homo oeconomicus—unencumbered by roots, nature, or culture—and motivated solely by a quantitative sense of purpose.

As a union whose “connections” are horizontal, contractual, self-serving, and self-centered, America’s cosmocratic system comes, as such, to oppose all resistant forms of historic or organic identity—for the sake of a totalitarian agenda intent on running roughshod over everything that might obstruct the scorch-earth economic logic of its Protestant Ethic and Capitalist Spirit. In this sense, Europe’s resurgence implies America’s demise.


The Shock

What will awaken Europeans from their sleep? Venner says it will be the shock of history—the shock evoking the tradition that made them (and makes them) who they are.

Such shocks have long shaped their history. Think of the Greeks in their Persian Wars; of Charles Martel’s outnumbered knights against the Caliphate’s vanguard; or of the Christian forces under Starhemberg and Sobieski before the gates of Vienna. Whenever Europe approaches Hölderlin’s “midnight of the world,” such shocks, it seems, serve historically to mobilize the redeeming memory and will to power inscribed in her tradition.

More than a half-century after the trauma of 1945—and the ensuing Americanization, financialization, and third-worldization of continental life—Europeans are once again experiencing another great life-changing, history-altering shock promising to shake them from their dormition.

The present economic crisis and its attending catastrophes combined with the unrelenting, disconcerting Islamization of European life (integral to US strategic interests) are—together—forcing Europeans to re-evaluate a system that destroys the national economy, eliminates borders, ravages the culture, makes community impossible, and programs their extinction as a people. The illusions of prosperity and progress, along with the system’s fun, sex, and money (justifying the prevailing de-Europeanization) are becoming increasingly difficult to entertain. Glimmers of a changing consciousness have, indeed, already been glimpsed on the horizon.

The various nationalist-populist parties stirring everywhere—parties which are preparing the counter-hegemony that one day will replace Europe’s present American-centric leadership—represent one conspicuous sign of this awakening. A mounting number of identitarian, Christian, secular, and political forces resisting Islam’s, America’s, and the EU’s totalitarian impositions at the local level are another sign.

Europeans, as a consequence, are increasingly posing the question: “Who are we?,” as they become conscious—especially in the face of the dietary, vestimentary, familial, sexual, religious, and other differences separating them from Muslims—of what is distinct to their civilization and their people, and why such distinctions are worth defending. Historical revivals, Venner notes, are slow in the making, but once awakened there is usually no going back. This is the point, Venner believes, that Europe is approaching today.


The Unexpected

History is the realm of the unexpected. Venner does not subscribe to notions of historical determinism or necessity. In contrast to Marxists and economic determinists, anti-Semites and Spenglerians, he believes there are no monocausal explanations in history, and unlike liberals such as Fukuyama, he believes there’s no escape from (no “end” to) history.

The future of history is always unknown. Who would have thought in 1980 that Soviet Russia, which seemed to be overtaking the United States in the 70s, would collapse within a decade? Historical fatalities are the fatalities of men’s minds, not those of history.

History, moreover, is the confluence of the given, the circumstantial, and the willful. This makes it always open and hence potentially always a realm of the unexpected. And the unexpected (that instance when great possibilities are momentarily posed) is mastered, Venner counsels, only in terms of who we are, which means in terms of the tradition and identity defining our project and informing our encounter with the world.

Hence, the significance now of husbanding our roots, our memory, our tradition, for from them will come our will to power and any possibility of transcendence. It’s not for nothing, Dominique Venner concludes, that we are the sons and daughters of Homer, Ulysses, and Penelope.

On the Third Reich

“In almost any war one side can be dishonestly demonized even by a truthful enumeration of its crimes, if the crimes of its adversaries are suppressed.”

Irmin Vinson

This Time, 5


A passage from This Time the World
by George Lincoln Rockwell

This is only an infinitesimally tiny bit of the huge mass of evidence that the “Russian” revolution was not Russian at all, but Jewish. The documents include the Overman Report to the U.S. Senate, 1919, Senate Document 88, which shows that of the 388 members of the first Soviet Government, sitting in the Old Smolny Institute in Petrograd, 371 were Jews and 265 of these Jews were from the lower East Side of New York City!

In March 1918, both Russia and Germany were in the advanced throes of Bolshevik revolution. Lenin was on his way in a sealed train to Russia, with over 417 exiled Jewish Marxists, to set up the first Bolshevik government in the world. The Jewish revolutionaries were at work in all the other chaos-ridden European countries, with Bela Kun (Cohen) seizing Hungary for the Jew-Communists and Rosa Luxemburg and Karl Liebknecht, both Jews, leading the Bolshevik uprising in Germany.

Meanwhile, an unknown German corporal lay in hospital in Pasewalk, outside of Berlin, his eyes all but burned out by a gas attack. He writes movingly in Mein Kampf of the hot tears which poured down his face when a gang of deserters from the Navy rushed in proclaiming the Red revolution, which forced Germany to sue for an armistice. He writes even more movingly of his disgust and helpless rage when he learned that the deserters were not combat fighters from the front lines, where he himself had won his Iron Cross of valor, but were Jews from the rear echelons!

Five thousand miles across the Atlantic Ocean, in Bloomington, Illinois, Claire Schade Rockwell entered the Kelso Hospital at this same time to give birth to her first child, on the night of March 9, 1918. The greatest marathon race of human history was launched…

Adolf Hitler started the year I was born, the year that Marxism took Russia. He made a miraculous sprint into history, almost overtook the Reds, but exhausted himself in the agony of his superhuman exertion. His baton seemed to fall, to be crushed into the earth by the ferocity of the other side. It has lain buried now for fifteen years. All over the world, it appears to be crucified. But now, at last, it has been seized up by new hands! It will be carried to triumph as inevitably as the laws of Nature decree the eventual victory of the strongest and best…

I have made it my mission in life, above all things, to carry that baton to victory! No matter how long it takes, how painful it may be, or how an eternally blind world scorns and hates it, Adolf Hitler’s noble vision of racial idealism will yet master today’s chaos and bring order, decency and the innocent fun and laughter of my father’s day…

Uncle Adolf’s table talk, 109



5th April 1942, midday

The importance of climate—Leningrad is doomed.

As regards the Russian territories that will pass under our sovereignty, the problems are so plentiful that they’ll provide us with opportunities for work for several centuries. In the central sector, it will be necessary to cultivate the marshes, which extend further than eye can see, by planting reeds.

They’ll form a barrier in future to break the extraordinary waves of cold of the Russian winter. In other parts, it will be necessary to set up plantations of cultivated nettles, for, according to the experiments made by a Hamburg firm, the fibres of these nettles enable one to manufacture a cellulose much superior to cotton. Moreover, it’s becoming urgently necessary to re-afforest the Ukraine, in order to struggle effectively against the rains which are a real scourge in that region. They really did a good job those hunters who, in order to satisfy their passion for the chase, took care to re-afforest 37 per cent of German soil. In the meantime, along the whole periphery of the Mediterranean, people were de-foresting without thinking of the importance of the forest and, consequently, without adopting the policy their action entailed.

Since there is a question of the future of Leningrad, I reply that, for me, Leningrad is doomed to decay. May the ports and naval dockyards of Leningrad decay in their turn! As a matter of fact, there can be only one master in the Baltic, which must be an inland sea of Germany’s.

That’s why we must see to it there’s no room for an important port on the periphery of our Reich. The development of our own ports and those of the Baltic countries will amply suffice to cover our maritime needs, so that we shall be well able to dispense with the port of Leningrad, which in any case is blocked by ice for half the year.

Published in: on August 17, 2015 at 11:29 pm  Leave a Comment  

Uncle Adolf’s table talk, 113

9th April 1942, midday

The criteria by which a politician should be judged are, firstly, the positive virtues he possesses, and, secondly, the actual services he has rendered to his country.

In politics facts alone are of value, and any juggling with possible hypotheses is quite futile. It is, for example, perfectly true, but of no importance, to say that had the Romans been defeated by the Huns on the Gatalaunian Fields the growth of western culture would have been impossible and the civilisation of the time would have been destroyed—as indeed our own civilisation to-day will be destroyed if the Soviets are victorious in this war.

Published in: on August 13, 2015 at 6:27 pm  Leave a Comment  

Homo Americanus, 1

homoamericanusBoth the American and the Soviet experiments were founded on the same principles of egalitarianism…

At the beginning of the third millennium, the immense egalitarian meta-narrative, encapsulated in Americanism, is very much alive… Both Homo sovieticus and Homo americanus herald the slogan that all men are created equal…

All academic discussions about genetic or racial differences are quickly neutralized by the all-encompassing words such as “racism” or “hate speech.”

Homo Americanus, chapter 2

Frost responds to Sunic

My latest two posts dealt with Hadding Scott’s article about Dylann Roof. Today Tom Sunic took issue with the arguments of the commenters I reproduced in those posts:

Hadding is correct when stressing the importance of education in white awareness—white civility might be a better locution. This is a long and painful process. The Soviet commissars in the 70’s were far more afraid of the pen of the one single Solzhenitsyn than of millions of Bible- thumping anti-commie preachers in the USA. If Roof had had a foresight of the standard “who benefits?” question, he would have never done the killing. Unless he himself has either a very low IQ, or worse, a sizable portion of criminal chromosomes, which, to be sure one encounters among some wannabe EU and US Hollywood- Nazis and self-proclaimed White nationalists, whose actions discredit the plight of millions of other Whites.

Jack Frost responded first by quoting Sunic:

“The Soviet commissars in the 70’s were far more afraid of the pen of the one single Solzhenitsyn than of millions of Bible-thumping anti-commie preachers in the USA…”

This is the same Solzhenitsyn who said:

And how we burned in the camps later, thinking: What would things have been like if every Security operative, when he went out at night to make an arrest, had been uncertain whether he would return alive and had to say good-bye to his family? SolyenitsinOr if, during periods of mass arrests, as for example in Leningrad, when they arrested a quarter of the entire city, people had not simply sat there in their lairs, paling with terror at every bang of the downstairs door and at every step on the staircase, but had understood they had nothing left to lose and had boldly set up in the downstairs hall an ambush of half a dozen people with axes, hammers, pokers, or whatever else was at hand?… The Organs would very quickly have suffered a shortage of officers and transport and, notwithstanding all of Stalin’s thirst, the cursed machine would have ground to a halt! If…if… We didn’t love freedom enough. And even more—we had no awareness of the real situation… We purely and simply deserved everything that happened afterward.

“Education” or agitprop has its place, but in my view it’s primarily a recruitment tool. Without people willing to take action it’s useless. Eventually things come to a pass where action is required, and that’s where people like Roof and Mathews come in. I have to say that I think anyone who denigrates the actions of our street fighters or disavows them is deeply mistaken and acting in a disgraceful fashion. Withholding an endorsement is one thing, but actively attacking them and giving support to the oppressive system is really what’s foolish and counter-productive.

See also my comment below.

Jack vs. Kevin

Dr. Kevin MacDonald wrote this month within an article on The Occidental Observer:

The Jewish commitments and motivations of the main players were never a subject of discussion, and the movements themselves were presented as scientifically sound and morally superior to the traditional culture of the West.

On April 14, 2015 Jack Frost commented:

Deceptively phrased. Jews never oppose the “traditional culture” (whatever that’s supposed to mean) of the West directly by presenting an alternative that they claim is morally superior. Rather, they work within the traditional framework of moral values established by Christianity, the ultimate source of Western morality. Moral authority comes from the Bible, churches, and Jesus, not Freud or Karl Marx. Anti-racism and philo-Semitism are things already present within Christianity, and all the Jew does is draw them out. Any positive moral value ascribed to these things is only possible because Christianity already endorses them. The stress laid on universal brotherhood in the Bible is the source of communism’s attraction; and Freud’s message would have fallen on deaf ears in a non-Christian culture.

Frost’s comment was a mere comment within a threaded discussion. Perhaps if he was writing a more formal article he would have included other examples.

One example that comes to mind now that I’ve just added Hitler’s talk on how to deal with the conquered inhabitants of the Soviet Union, is the widespread dismay by virtually all white nationalists regarding such plans.

For genuine apostates of Christianity it goes without saying that a people that have surrendered their institutions to the Jews, as happened in the SU, deserve to be conquered by a healthier race. Presently that the US allowed the same, if a Reich was in charge of Europe and Russia the natural thing for a healthy white would be cheer about the conquest of America by these hypothetic Germans.

Let me convey my point in another way. Back in 2011 a well-known, neonazi commenter said that I was a “profoundly confused man” because I rejected abortion while, in cases of serious genetic flaws (e.g., Down syndrome), I accepted the Third Reich policy on euthanasia. Like those white nationalists who are extremely dismayed when reading the table talks and find passages like the one I quoted today about Hitler’s plans on Russia, nationalists are dismayed too when someone really breaks away from Christian axiology.

Douris_Man_with_wax_tabletFor a Greek or a Roman of ancient times it would have been unthinkable to raise a genetically-flawed baby. This is certainly a Christian value. If Hitler had won the war and in his empire from the Atlantic to the Urals the Germans behaved like the Spartans with their defective offspring, and the Russians became relegated to second-class citizens, a true Nietzschean would not shed a tear. The fact that even the editor of Ostara Publications has found necessary to add a disclaimer in the best edition of Hitler’s Table Talk that I know, claiming that the German leaders had to revise their opinions toward Russians, proves how Christian axiology has so shaped white culture that no one has been able to stand outside of it, not even racialists.

Exactly the same can be said of those who are dismayed by The Turner Diaries, and I am talking even of those who somehow like Pierce. Neochristians, white nationalists included, are morally incapable of accepting the view expressed in that novel that the “millions of White people who died, and who have yet to die before we are finished” are not really “innocents” because they allowed themselves to be subjugated by Jews in the first place.

The huge difference between Hitler and Pierce on the one hand, and white nationalists on the other, is that the latter cannot break away from the grip of Christian axiology, atheists included.

Rape hate, part 1

by Tom Goodrich

All wars are bad. All wars are evil. All wars are inherently bad and evil. And World War Two was the most inherently bad and evil of all wars. No matter what some desk-bound Jewish propagandist might scribble, and no matter what some Christian nightly news reader might mumble, there is no such thing as a “Good War” and there was no such thing as a “Greatest Generation.” War unleashes pent hate. War lends a degree of legitimacy to the basest instincts in man. War is organized savagery. And never was this on uglier display than in World War Two. And never has the term “hell on earth” come closer to an actual manifestation than on the Eastern Front.

As momentum swung to the Soviet Union late in the war, the Red Army turned viciously on the crippled German Wehrmacht. First through Russia, then through Poland, the Soviets ruthlessly pursued the German army until by January, 1945, the communists were on the very borders of the Reich itself. When the final push for Berlin began, and when Soviet forces finally rolled across Germany, it caused widespread panic among German civilians.

The following is from my books, Rape Hate—Sex & Violence in War & Peace, and Hellstorm–The Death of Nazi Germany, 1944-1947. It is not a pretty picture to paint. For over 70 years the world has been told only one side of that terrible war–the side that won. To this very day, unfortunately, these books and a handful of others remain the only books which actually attempt to describe what the war looked like to those who lost it. My hope when I began writing these books–my hope then, my hope now–was to tell the story as accurately and honestly as possible; to let the world know what actually occurred during that so-called “Good War,” not simply what we were told occurred. My hope then, my hope now, is that if enough people of good will read the books, understand the books, act upon the books, then the day will soon come when the world will rise up and with a united voice declare that nothing like this will ever happen again, not in their names, not in their times, not to them… not to anyone.

Unfortunately, and as horrible as the ensuing pages are, the reader should keep in mind that the following deals with only one nightmarish component of a war filled with Allied war crimes–terror bombing, torture, starvation, massacre, enslavement—crimes that are even now, after over 70 years, still largely unknown. Taken together, the ugly things that were done to the defeated Germans by the victorious Allies remain to this day the darkest and best-kept secret in human history.


Although millions of Germans were on the roads in full flight, millions more remained at their farms, villages and towns. Despite the rumors of Bolshevik savagery and the reality of Nemmersdorf the previous autumn, many Germans were determined to ride out the red storm, refusing to believe the situation was as bad as Nazi propaganda would have them believe

“About one thousand inhabitants defied danger and remained in Schoenwald,” ran a typical account. “[T]hey did not really believe that the Russians were as cruel and inhuman as they were reputed to be, but hoped to win over the latter by welcoming them and being hospitiable.”

“Things never turn out either as well or as badly as one expects,” explained an old German adage, an adage that those who remained now desperately embraced. Nevertheless, as a precaution, many in Schoenwald and elsewhere took time to bury valuables, hang out white flags and hide their liquor in cellars. When these last safety measures were taken, there was little the people could do but watch, wait and pray to God their decision had been correct. For many, an answer came soon enough. Wrote a priest from the city of Lauban:

In the evening I climbed up onto the roof of the church and gazed at the countryside around me. Without being a prophet I realized that disaster was about to overtake us—a terrible disaster, for the heathens were rapidly approaching.

I could see the reflection of a fire on the horizon. It seemed to be moving… It was as though a wind of destruction and desolation swept the countryside…

It was as though there were a sinister warning in the very air. The whole sky was ablaze and the air seemed to vibrate with the rumble of the Soviet tanks, as they came nearer and nearer.

For the next several days, the fight for Lauban went on. “Shells and artillery fire rent the air and the concentrated fire of the tanks grew fiercer and fiercer,” the priest continues. “The thunder of the cannon which continued without pause was deafening. There was a stifling smell of sulfur.”

[A]bout noon some German soldiers came to the convent and told us that the Russians were likely to arrive in about an hour’s time… The tumult and commotion overhead grew louder and louder. We could hear soldiers tramping about overhead, but we could not tell whether they were Germans or Russians…

[B]efore we had a chance to get out of the cellar the first lot of Russians appeared. They stood at the entrance to the cellar and were obviously very surprised to find human creatures down here. They soon disappeared again, however. They did not look as bad as we had expected and most of us were rather relieved.

In numerous other towns and villages, frightened German civilians were also “rather relieved” upon their initial encounter with the Red Army. “[T]he first Russian troops entered the village from the east,” remembered one witness from Schoenwald. “This went off quite peacefully, no shots were fired, the Germans served food and drink to the Russians, and the latter were very amiable. Any misgivings, which some of the inhabitants of the village might have had, vanished.”

“One moment the streets were deserted, and the next moment they were full of Russians,” added a little girl from another village. “I was in our bedroom upstairs at the time, watching from a corner window partly facing the street. I thought I’d carefully lift a corner of the blanket covering that window to take a peek… I was spotted by an old Russian soldier sitting in the front of a covered wagon pulled by two enormous horses. He smiled at me and waved.”

“Most of them were of strong and sturdy build,” a resident of Kunzendorf observed. “And all of them, as they confronted us, were armed to the teeth—with revolvers and pistols of every type… They were attired in dirty, brownish, padded trousers and jackets, and on their heads they wore fur-caps.”

Composed largely of White Russians and Ukrainians, many Germans were shocked that the enemy often looked, sounded, and acted, much like themselves. Recalled Lali Horstmann:

There was a loud hammering on the door, which echoed through the house. When my husband opened the door, a tall, fair-haired officer… stood on the doorstep… When he entered the room, the Russian Army itself was in our home, taking possession. As always, reality differed from anticipation, for it was not he who was violent, but Bibi who flew at his legs before we could stop her, while the soldier made a friendly gesture towards the outraged little dog… He talked in the serious tones of a kindly grown-up soothing frightened children, and helpless though we were, we had a mutual respect for each other’s unalterable position. He stalked through the rooms in a formal search for German deserters. Then, his duty done, he gravely saluted with great dignity and departed, leaving us speechless and trembling.

Unfortunately, the fact that one Russian like the above might display proper conduct did not guarantee that the next would. The lack of consistency or a predictable policy among Soviet front line troops was one of the most confusing and paralyzing aspects of the Russian occupation. From a rural estate, Renate Hoffman wrote:

[W]e saw a Russian ride through the main gate on a horse. He must have been drunk because he fell off. A second Russian came, then a third. They staggered and reeled their way to the door and entered the house. It was worse than we had ever imagined. One of them went straight to the telephone, ripped it off the wall, and threw it on the floor… Another Russian went to the radio and threw that on the floor, making sure we no longer heard any more news broadcasts. More men came in. They raged through the house, going from room to room. They stormed into the kitchen and demanded the cook make them something to eat. There must have been about forty soldiers.

I took the children outside and hid them behind some bushes. Inside, we ran from one corner to the other, not knowing what to do. A man from the nearby village passed by and reported that the Russians were acting like animals everywhere… After hours of this, a Russian officer showed up with an interpreter… He was wearing a perfectly tailored uniform, an impressive looking man, and also wearing white gloves! This officer told us, through his translator, that he was confiscating the house and was giving us five minutes to leave the estate.

Continues a witness from Kaltwasser:

When the shelling ceased we ventured out of the cellar once more, but we had only got as far as the stairs when we saw… a Pole, coming towards us with a Russian officer and another man. We hoped for the best, but the interpreter promptly demanded our watches and rings. In fact, he actually tore my watch off its chain, and made the women remove all their rings, bracelets, and necklaces. We were horrified when the Russian officer and the interpreter seized hold of Mrs. M. and my aunt and dragged them off. When they eventually came back we went to the vicarage. The house was full of Russians and they had already wrought havoc in all the rooms. Some of them had ransacked the pantry and were gorging the food they had found there. Others had opened all the drawers and cupboards and thrown the contents onto the floor… Russians continued to raid the house all day long. They played the mouth-organ and the harmonium and set the gramophone going. There was a bottle of pure alcohol in the house and they drained it undiluted. They swarmed into the pantry and ate all the preserves… When it grew dark they set fire to the school. We did not dare go to bed as one lot of soldiers after another kept raiding the house… At about three o’clock in the morning a savage-looking Russian appeared and searched us. We had already been searched innumerable times by other Russians… In the course of their searches one of them opened the wardrobe and slashed all the garments to pieces with his dagger.

Traumatic as first encounters were, when the shock troops moved off many Germans would concur that the experience had not been as bad as feared. While rapes had occurred and while many German men of military age had been marched east or shot on the spot, the front line soldier was more concerned with fighting and survival than with loot, rape and revenge. Not so with those who followed. In numerous instances, before Red combat officers and men pushed on they turned to the helpless civilians with stone-like faces: “The Mongols are coming… Very bad men. You go quick. Go quick.”

Composed largely of Mongols and other Asians, as well as convicts and Jewish commissars, these men who formed the second wave of troops were regarded, even by their own comrades, as utterly merciless. Terrified by the news, many Germans did attempt to flee and move in the wake of the first Soviet wave. Most, however, found themselves trapped and could do little more than hide young girls and once again pray that their worst fears were unfounded. After a wait of sometimes days, but normally only hours, the dreaded second wave arrived. There were no preliminaries.

Unlike storm troops, who cautiously entered towns and villages and slipped nervously from door to door, the rear echelons burst noisily into communities atop trucks, tanks or peasant carts crammed high with loot. Often wildly drunk, many wore a bizarre array of stolen clothes and gaudy jewelry. Adding to the chaos were herds of bellowing cattle and sheep.

“It was almost like a scene from the Middle Ages—a migration, no less,” said one stunned observer.

Soon after the “carnival columns” halted in a German town, hell on earth was unleashed. “It seemed as though the devil himself had come,” a witness from Silesia wrote. “The ‘Mongol barbarism of the Asiatic plains’ had come not in a propaganda phrase but in the flesh.


“The Monghols are coming!”

While flames shot up from different corners of the towns and gunfire erupted as citizens were murdered in the streets, the invaders soon began kicking in doors to homes, shops and churches. “[A] whole horde of Asiatic-looking fellows appeared and started searching the cellar,” recalled one priest. “The place was a dreadful sight by the time they had finished. The room was already full of smoke and I begged one of the Russians to let us out… Were they going to let us be burnt to death? After a while, however, a more civilized-looking Russian appeared and I repeated my request. He led us out to… the courtyard of the convent. The noise was deafening—the raucous shouts of the Russians, the crackling of the flames, the crashing of beams and brickwork.”

Many horrified Germans tried to greet with a smile their strange visitors. Revealed one woman from a boarding house in Berbitz:

As a precaution, the landlord, Mr. Grebmann, had lined the vestibule with liquor bottles in the naive hope that his house might thereby be spared from ransacking. To the succeeding troop of slant-eyed Mongolians, the tenants brought their jewelry and watches. Hysterical, Mrs. Friedel embraced one of the greasy Kirgis and drank with him from the same bottle, and the elderly Mr. Grebmann patted them familiarly on the back… One of the Mongolians held up my Tom’s tall leather boots triumphantly, the other one put my rings into his pants pocket…

Scarcely had this second detachment left the house and we were beginning to breathe freely, when fists once more thundered at the door: thus it kept up the whole day. The house doors were not permitted to be locked any more. Each took what he wanted either in a more or less harmless or in a malicious way. Soon we and the Russians were wading knee-deep in thrown-around clothing, laundry and bits of smashed dishes…

As soon as a new detachment of Russians entered the house noisily, we squatted trembling about the round table in Grebmann’s living room. One of the soldiers sat at the table with us with pistol disengaged and demanded schnapps or vodka, while the others rummaged around the house… [N]o one dared to speak. We women sat with downcast eyes and lowered head. Someone had told us never to look a Russian in the eye, otherwise we would be lost…

Before long the inside of the house looked as if a band of robbers had lived there… The fellows had cut the beds up into little pieces, slit open the upholstered chairs, thrown furniture around; had slashed pictures, despoiled books, cracked eggs against the wall; had poured liqueur over the rugs, torn curtains down, and scattered the entire contents of all the closets and drawers all over.

One of the most painful shocks for me was to see how two of the ruffians with their heavy boots kicked the chest in which I had my beautiful porcelain wrapped in tissue paper and cotton wadding. They were all treasured pieces… My most beautiful piece… was used by one of them as a toilet.

As a rule, the Soviets generally sought out gold and jewelry first, with an especial eye for “uri,” or wristwatches. It was not unusual to see Red troops laden with necklaces and gold chains or sporting as many as a dozen watches on each arm. When the people had been plucked clean of valuables, interest usually turned to liquor. In their mad quest for “wodka,” soldiers greedily imbibed everything from fine wines and champagne to rubbing alcohol and perfume. Red troops, observed one woman, were “crazy for anything even smelling of alcohol.”

And then…

“Rape was a word that [had] occurred again and again in [our] conversation,” admitted Lali Horstmann. “It was an expression which caused no pang of fear in our times for its meaning was purely figurative—‘to be ravished’ belonged to the realm of lyrical poetry. Now its original sense was terrifyingly restored and brought us face to face with a new peril.”

“Suddenly the door of the room we were in was opened and some soldiers entered,” a frightened boy recalled as he sat huddled with a group of women in a dark room. “One or two matches were struck and I saw that there were about eight Russians in the room who were obviously looking for women.”

The child continues:

As I crouched there in my corner I saw one of the Russians coming towards me. The match he held in his hand went out. I felt, rather than saw, a hand reach out towards me. I had a fur cap on my head, and suddenly I felt fingers tracing curl-like movements on my temple. For a brief moment I did not know what to make of this, but the next instant, when a loud “No” resounded through the room, I thanked God with all my heart that I was not a woman or a girl. Meanwhile the beasts had spotted their victims and shared them out. Then they suddenly started shooting at random. But it was dark in the room and no one could see where the shots were being fired or who was hit. I heard wails and groans and voices calling out to me to help, but there was nothing I could do. Right next to me poor defenseless women were being ravished in the presence of their children.

Merely because a female had been raped once was no guarantee she would not be assaulted again and again. “Many of the girls were raped as often as ten times a night, and even more,” said a witness from Neustadt.

“There was never a moment’s peace either by day or at night,” added another victim:

The Russians were coming and going the whole time and they kept eying us greedily. The nights were dreadful because we were never safe for a moment. The women were raped, not once or twice but ten, twenty, thirty and a hundred times, and it was all the same to the Russians whether they raped mere children or old women. The youngest victim in the row houses where we lived was ten years of age and the oldest one was over seventy… I am sure that wild and hungry animals would not have behaved any differently.

Wrote one girl from Posen who desperately clung to a cousin for safety:

When we were lying in bed at night we kept hearing steps coming up the stairs… They beat on the door with their rifle-butts, until it was opened. Without any consideration for my mother and aunt, who had to get out of bed, we were raped by the Russians, who always held a machine pistol in one hand. They lay in bed with their dirty boots on, until the next lot came. As there was no light, everything was done by pocket torches, and we did not even know what the beasts looked like.

Like hunted prey leading predators from their young, some mothers instinctively sacrificed themselves. Recorded one little girl, ten-year-old Mignon Fries:

[S]he told us in a stern voice to go outside to play and under no circumstances to come back in. No matter what we heard, until she herself would come for us, no matter how long it took. Fearfully we looked at her even though we didn’t know exactly what we were afraid of… We went outside and stood around for awhile not knowing what to do, just listening to the noise in the apartment. My mother had just closed all the windows but we could still hear the soldiers talking, laughing and shouting. Then the music started and before long the soldiers were singing…

The day gave way to evening, it got rather chilly and still we were outside and the “party” got noisier. Every once in a while a soldier would open a window and throw an empty vodka bottle outside. Sometimes the music would stop for a while, but the singing and shouting continued. As it got later and later we became very hungry and cold, but having been raised in an atmosphere of strict obedience we didn’t dare go back in the house against our mother’s orders and just huddled against the wall of the shed in the garden trying to keep each other warm… The music and the singing broke off as suddenly as it had started… Within minutes it was all over and all the soldiers left the house… But it was a long time before our mother finally came out to get us. She was very pale and hugged both of us very tightly for a long time and we could feel her body shaking.

If front-line troops had displayed unpredictability regarding rape, the second wave did not. “All of us, without exception, suffered the same,” revealed one victim.

“And to make matters worse,” added a witness from Neisse, “these atrocities were not committed secretly or in hidden corners but in public, in churches, on the streets, and on the squares… Mothers were raped in the presence of their children, girls were raped in front of their brothers.”

“They… raped women and girls… in ditches and by the wayside, and as a rule not once but several times,” echoed another viewer. “Sometimes a whole bunch of soldiers would seize hold of one woman and all rape her.”

For those Germans who had naively imagined that they might “win over” the Soviets with kindness and courtesy, they now understood, too late, that Nazi propaganda had in this instance grossly understated the threat, rather than exaggerated it. “[T]he atrocity reports in the newspapers were harmless, compared to reality,” one incredulous victim revealed.

While many upright Russian officers courageously stepped in and risked their own lives to stop the murders and rapes, their efforts were little more than a drop of water to a forest fire.

“[A]ll of us knew very well that if the girls were German they could be raped and then shot,” admitted Alexander Solzhenitsyn. “This was almost a combat distinction.”

“There will be no mercy—for no one,” ran one Russian general’s order to his men. “It is pointless to ask our troops to exercise mercy.”

“Kill them all, men, old men, children and the women, after you have amused yourself with them,” urged the Jewish propagandist, Ilya Ehrenberg, in his flaming leaflets that were showered down from airplanes. “Kill. Nothing in Germany is guiltless, neither the living nor the yet unborn… Break the racial pride of the German women. Take her as your legitimate booty. Kill, you brave soldiers of the victorious Soviet Army.”

Springing from house to house and victim to victim “like wild beasts,” the drunken horde was determined to embrace such words as the above at their literal worst.

“When the Russians eventually tired of looting, robbing, murdering, and ill-treating the women and girls, they set fire to a considerable part of the village and razed it to the ground,” said a survivor of Schoenwald, the small community that had dismissed rumors of Russian ruthlessness and opted to welcome them instead.

Much like Schoenwald, one town after another was swiftly enveloped by the howling red storm… with the same results.

“And as we were then hauled out of the cellar,” recalled a woman who, along with her mother and grandmother had been raped repeatedly, “and as they stood there with their machine guns, my mother said, ‘Well, now we’ll probably be shot.’ And I said, ‘It’s all the same to me.’ It really was all the same to me.”

You can imagine Asian cruelty. “Frau, come,” that was the slogan. “Frau, come.” And I was so furious, because I’d had it up to here… [H]e had me in such a clinch I couldn’t free myself; with my elbow I hit him in the pit of his stomach. That definitely hurt him, and he yelled, “You, I shoot.” And he was brandishing this kind of machine gun around my nose and then I said, “Then shoot.” Yelled it, yelled it just like he did. “Then shoot.”

Though this woman miraculously lived, many who offered even token resistance did not. Wrote a witness from Bauschdorf:

Emilie Ertelt… wanted to protect her fifteen-year old daughter, who had been raped sixteen times on one and the same day. Holding a lighted candle in her hand, Mrs. Ertelt, and all those present in the room began to pray for her daughter… [F]our shots were suddenly fired at us. After a few moments some more Russians appeared and started shooting at Mrs. Ertelt, wounding her in the head. The blood streamed down her face, and the nuns who were present went to her assistance and bandaged her head. Soon afterwards another Russian appeared, a brutal-looking fellow… and fired a shot at close range. Mrs. Ertelt was killed instantaneously.

german kids

German victims of Red Army savages

Surrounded by Soviets, flight was simply not a sane option for females—and yet, some tried. One young teacher from Kriescht ran terror-stricken into the nearby woods. The woman was soon found, however, and, according to a chronicler, “they drove her out on the road stark naked, and many soldiers used her one after the other. She reached her village crawling on hands and knees along the ditch, through mud and snow.”

Another group of females found temporary haven in a barn near Schoeneiche. But again, the refuge was swiftly discovered. Remembered one who was there:

They burst in, drunk with vodka and with victory, looking for women. When they saw only older women and children hiding behind a pile of carpets, they must have suspected that somewhere younger bodies were being concealed, and they started to ram their bayonets into the carpets. Here and there first and then systematically… Nobody knows how many young girls were killed instantly that night. Eventually, the muffled cries of anguish and pain gave the hiding places away, and the victors started unrolling their prey. They chased those girls that had remained unhurt through the barn… By then the barn looked like a battle field with wounded women on the floor right next to screaming and fighting victims forced to endure repeated and violent acts of rape.

Faced by relentless assaults, with flight out of the question, females tried a variety of stratagems to save themselves. “Some of us tried to make ourselves as unattractive as possible by rouging the tips of our noses, putting gray powder on our upper lips to look like mustaches, and combing out our hair wildly,” revealed Lali Horstmann. Others placed pillows under their dresses and hobbled with sticks to appear like hunchbacks. One crazed woman, clad in an alluring night gown, left her door open purposely to attract soldiers to where she was lying in bed, in the hope of finding a protector.

“Two Russians, who had entered for a moment stood speechless. Then both spat in disgust, using a coarse word, shocked to the core by a woman who could offer herself to them. They went on to the room next door, from where soon came cries for help from the girl’s grandmother, aged sixty-nine. Her valiant defense of her honor had made her more attractive than the pretty, too willing girl.”

Regarding “willing” women such as the above as “unclean,” Red troops were as likely as not to kill on the spot such individuals. Many frantic females mistakenly assumed a house of God would provide protection. In fact, churches were usually the rapists’ first stop. Agonized a priest from Neisse:

The girls, women and nuns were raped incessantly for hours on end, the soldiers standing in queues, the officers at the head of the queues, in front of their victims. During the first night many of the nuns and women were raped as many as fifty times. Some of the nuns who resisted with all their strength were shot, others were ill-treated in a dreadful manner until they were too exhausted to offer any resistance. The Russians knocked them down, kicked them, beat them on the head and in the face with the butt-end of their revolvers and rifles, until they finally collapsed and in this unconscious condition became the helpless victims of brutish passion, which was so inhuman as to be inconceivable. The same dreadful scenes were enacted in the hospitals, homes for the aged, and other such institutions. Even nuns who were seventy and eighty years old and were ill and bedridden were raped and ill-treated by these barbarians.

Those women pregnant, on their menstrual cycle, or enduring diarrhea, suffered like all the rest. Nothing, it seemed—not age, ailment or ugliness—could repel the Red rapist. Even death was no defense.

“I… saw some twenty Red Army men standing in line before the corpse of a woman certainly beyond sixty years of age who had been raped to death,” one sickened witness recorded. “They were shouting and laughing and waiting for their satisfaction over her dead body.”

As the above viewer went on to add, and as numerous examples attest, such ghoulish depravities were not isolated events.


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