Jackboot Britain: The Alternate History - Hitler's Victory & The Nazi UK! (53 page)

Wolf grinned at the prospect, lighting another cigarette as he did so and quite pointedly offering it to his English guest, before resuming. “No, Stanley, I find Huxley an interesting man, and a genius in his way. His book is no condemnation of my world; it is a warning to
yours
.” The grin faded. “No, you are wrong. Germany
is
a
real
, brave new order; a
crusade
, if you like. There are scapegoats, undeniably true, and some even deserve to be… but lest we forget 1918 and the following decade of unrest, there are very
real
enemies, and we do not dwell in luxury to attain our utopia; we suffer, we fight, and for for a future we ourselves will make… not have it simply placed before us by our rulers. We fight and suffer. And in the end, we will triumph.”

Still, Stanley said nothing, the still-unsmoked cigarette eating itself away between his fingers. Just who, and what, was he dealing with here?

Major Wolf smiled, relaxing again. “We have enemies, Stanley, but they will be dealt with coldly, with merciless, pitiless strength.
Brave New World
and your Mr Huxley reminds me what it is to lose the meaning in life, to give in to human weakness and to be subverted into insignificance by malevolent powers. Bolshevism is the enemy of Europe, Stanley, not us. The Bolshevik contagion is spreading. When it does, Europe will need all the good men it can get. Strong men, built to lead. Men like you. Not for stupid, pointless wars such as the one your Brave New World and its criminals inflicted on Germany. A real… war of ideology. A battle for survival. The clashing of civilisations, and a crusade against an evil menace…”

He rose to his feet again, and Stanley rose with him. His head was swimming, and he wanted nothing more now than to be away from this curious, curious man.

Major Wolf held his hand out. Sergeant Stanley Hitchman took it, and with a firm grip, the two men locked eyes and shook. Wolf saluted, the classic military three-fingers to the temple. Stanley, after the slightest pause, returned the gesture.

“Until next time, Herr Hitchman.”

“Indeed, Mr Sturmbannführer. Indeed.”

In the premature darkness of early evening in winter, one hour before the German curfew would come into effect, the group of young anti-fascist freedom fighters were sat huddled in Jack’s living room, situated only five minutes’ walk from the Royal Oak, just outside the boundaries of Bloomsbury. The flat had once belonged to his Grandmother, and to all intents and purposes it had been left the way it was. Filled with cheap-looking ornaments and threadbare grey carpet, with the slightly musty smell synonymous with dwellings inhabited by old people whose bodily and homely hygiene and cleanliness had come to be neglected, decorating or even slightly improving the chintzy flat was the least of Jack’s worries.

For the group, the flat was ideal; Jack was registered as resident here, and a less obviously innocent place could not have been found. Tools, his prized possessions and anything that could remotely implicate him as either a veteran of the defence of the Spanish Republic, or as being remotely undesirable to the occupying powers that be were left at the house that his mother and sister shared. Weapons – guns, the type that could get you killed – were stashed in a cache ready for collection, upon being given the word.

They were all waiting for a moment of dread; from former figure of fun Lord Haw-Haw’s much derided ‘
Jairmany Calling, Jairmany Calling
” propaganda broadcasts from Berlin, the people of the occupied zone – England and Wales – were about to be addressed by Dr Josef Goebbels himself, ‘The Mahatma Propagandhi’, the Poison Dwarf.

They passed some time in contemplative silence; jolted from their near-reverie by the announcement that Doctor Goebbels was ready to address England, and Britain.

“I bet the little bastard has a special microphone that hangs low enough for him,” Alan sneered.

The others laughed, but it was hollow. The ‘limping devil’, as Germans they had known in Spain had called him, had too much power to be taken anything other than seriously.

Finally, the familiar voice, speaking perfect English in his distinctive clear and cultivated Rhineland voice came through, to which Mary shuddered visibly. She hated the ‘evil little beast.’ It was as though he was there in the room; theirs, and every other room in the country.

“Good afternoon, England. This is Germany calling.

I am Dr Josef Goebbels, a Minister of the German Reich. I want to talk to you from the very depths of my heart, and with my deep convictions on the problems that we, as Saxon and Nordic, Aryan peoples of a great history and culture, the driving force in the world from literature to philosophy, poetry, science and the arts, that we must overcome together.

I don’t know how many millions of people are listening to me tonight, how many English and German people of our blood and shared culture, but I am addressing you all from the bottom of my heart. We alone are blessed with the sophistication, the history and the revolutionary élan to overcome the difficulties and the enemies attacking our civilisation.

Only four months ago, I was compelled to speak to the German people about England, to rouse them to rise up against their Anglo-Saxon brothers and fight due to the declaration of war from its criminal government – the same Jewish-led criminals who advocated use of mustard gas on our troops, in the event they landed on British soil! Only Churchill’s forcible removal stopped that plan, by wiser heads that knew the folly of such war crimes against brother Aryans in a war against Jewry and subversive elements working for the destruction of European civilisation!

So thus, I had the grave and repellent task of addressing the German people with words of war, to drive them against the English. Thankfully, the war was not as long, nor as profoundly bitter as the Great War of 1914-1918, a savage conflict inflicted upon all our people’s by the Jewish bankers who profited from both sides in the war, and then refused to continue financing the German government and the economy, leading to our country’s collapse. The Jewish financiers, filmmakers, press and media giants, arms dealers, transnational corporations and more in London and New York were the only victors of a war in which millions of Aryans on both sides of that European struggle died, and European civilisation was weakened because of it.

What followed was a tragedy of history. Our peoples, natural and ethnic brothers of Aryan blood, were kept at each other’s throats; horrible reparations were demanded of Germany, and later, the Jews in international finance once more personally profited by bankrupting countless countries with the Wall Street Crash and an international Depression. Germany was among the worst hit of our glorious nations which had been subjugated by the Jew.

Thankfully, with the triumph of fascism in Italy, with Spain throwing off the shackles of the communist-friendly republic of Jewish freemasonry, and finally as a united people making the historic choice of Jesus Christ over Barabbas, the tables have turned on our oppressors. In Germany, the National Socialist revolution and its brother fascists and Aryan people’s across western Europe have struck back at the parasite, and is in a position to fight back against a Judaea that declared war on our people, on our blood.

Italy, Germany, Spain, France, and now England have all been saved, and restored to their rightful place as the rulers of world and European civilisation, led by a revolutionary soldier, the Führer, Adolf Hitler, who first had the foresight and the courage to stand up to the Jew, and was supported in his quest by the grateful people of a nation under attack.

I ask you, my English brothers, to consider what we all must fight for.

Think, on this criminally vulgar asphalt culture that the Jew has imposed on us. Subverting the economy, controlling our banks and our press, poisoning our youth with their degenerate culture; they are the parasitic people that destroy the foundations of great nations. The court Jews who run England’s banks and big business; what know they of William Blake’s poetic words, the man who spoke of ‘building Jerusalem on England’s green and pleasant lands.’ The green and pleasant land of England – did he envisage banks, and asphalt, concrete and stone? Blake’s poem was a metaphor; he spoke of the mass-industrialisation, the smoke and mills destroying England’s living space as a curse. All great men appreciate the beauty of our world, and despise those who deny us our living space and rob our national pride.”

It was astonishing. Alan, Jack, William and Mary shared sickened glances across the chintzy living room, looks full of dull forbearing. In the Royal Oak, Bill listened dumbly to the ingratiating spiel of Dr Goebbels, while Art stood rooted to the spot; indifferent to the similarly still gait of his regulars, polishing the same spot on a glass as though transfixed. A dangerous enemy indeed, this poisonous propagandist who was speaking like a native of the country, flawlessly, with just enough plausibility to win over the fickle types to his quietly violent ideology. The velvet glove covering fascism’s merciless iron fist.

And neither Italy nor Spain could hold a candle to the cold iron of Hitler’s take on fascism, with its added racialist worldview and nationalist fanaticism. The dangerous scapegoating and eugenicist policies only heightened its sinister, black shadow engulfing yet more of the world.

Goebbels’ soft words continued to purr from the wireless; it made Mary sick to her stomach. She left the room, blanching, but William could not tear himself away from his white-knuckled attachment to the menacing message of Dr Goebbels’ broadcast.

“No… the Jew culture is an asphalt culture. The Jew is a partisan of assimilation in the host country only long enough to subvert its culture and spread across its living space like a parasite. You in the picturesque little English village; you may not know the Jew. You have your land, your beautiful village and you are happy. But you do not know the Jew. The parasite operates from the city; once he controls the city, the Jew controls the land. The Jew controls the village. The Jew controls you.

In Germany, I proposed and later, helped enforce the radicalisation of laws which are to be implemented throughout liberated Europe; beyond removing the Jew from our professions, the Reich further strengthened its core in national defence in the banning of Jews from theatres, cinemas, circuses and the like. They are not to share compartments in sleeping cars with Aryans, nor are they to occupy seats on public transport otherwise intended for the rightfully present Aryan, who is in his own living space. We shall overcome this menace; with the living space of the white Aryan people in jeopardy, and with our cultural grasp slipping away with the infestation of poison and modernist Jewish thinking, of pornography and the feminist movement that allows for women to smoke, drink and behave as men, desecrating the sacred bodies with which they continue the future of our people; with the current climate as it is…–“ a trademark pause for effect, “we deemed it necessary – and western Europe as a whole shall come to, as well – to remove the Jew from every area of life in which they may be provocative, or subversive in any way.

Consider the capitalist system they enforced upon you. They wish to infect you all with the raging need to consume; as is seen in America and will be seen in England too; they have brought with them the sickness of consumerism, of an endless cycle of luxury goods, of greed and gluttony at the expense of a nation; of pornography, of vile films, to subvert an entire culture, to distract them, corrupt them and make them soft. They did it in Germany, and we rose up! Now, after the second war that they inflicted on the English and German peoples, we as brothers for our Motherland and Fatherland, for England and Germany and the Anglo-Saxon and the Aryan blood–“ Goebbels’ voice had risen almost to a scream; William, Jack noted, was almost mesmerised, but in a trance of horror –“… we can save our people, by driving the sickness out of our societies and destroying the poison they wish to inflict upon us!

Sadly, England – under its criminal government that declared war on the Reich, has been so infected by parasitic Jewry that it lost its ability to see the dangers our people face!
International world Jewry conceals itself as Bolshevism in the Soviet Union, and plutocratic-capitalism in the Anglo-Saxon states, but wherever it operates, country to country, from parliament buildings to banks to newspaper headquarters to factories to corporations… wherever Jewry operates, covertly, it is a parasite, vermin, working to undermine the national culture.

Consider this…” Again, Goebbels paused for effect, and then his voice returned – back to the persuasive purr, his slight Rhineland ‘sch’ audible. “All the metal used in pointless, unnecessary items… a few hundred tin cans can be recycled to make a bicycle. Our societies would be sustainable with the sick, destructive need to consume, to have luxury goods and fill our lives and our thoughts with clutter
eliminated
. What does a teenage child need other than friends, books and a bicycle? The National Socialist society which England is now so lucky to enjoy, will see good books and acceptable literature replace the Jewish poison, will see sports replace pornography and idleness; to see my films, and good English films replace the disease of
Juden
Hollywood, and as such, you will see the children learn to have discipline, and grow to be strong, courageous, loyal to their family, their people and their country.

And what, I ask you, is the cause that we must fight for, with revolutionary fanaticism and undying will? It is the prevention of Bolshevism and the Jewish tyranny spreading from the East–“ at that, the anti-fascist group gasped aloud. So, with England and France out of the way, the pact with the Soviets was dead; for Goebbels declare it openly to the English and Welsh listeners in the occupied zone, it had to have come from Hitler himself.

“–and while for pragmatic purposes, the Führer allowed for a peace treaty to be signed with the Soviet Union, and for a shared border separating the General Government and East Prussia of Germany from Soviet occupied Poland. And as a race of honour, we will uphold that border, in the interests of defending Europe and our Christian civilisation. Only in the event of gross provocation will the Reich be compelled to act and take defensive measures in order to fulfil the promises we have made to uphold the values and principles of our civilisation.”