by James Mason
If this isn't WAR, what is it? Before this is all over, most if not all of us will have faced, more than once, the ultimate reality of 'kill or be killed'. For many of us it will be kill AND be killed just as it was for Gordon Kahl. Only a coward and a shirker could expect less. There is no going back. Let us not cheapen the enmity we are locked into by crying "injustice". Let us instead ready ourselves to withstand the worst that the Enemy has to offer and, at the same time, each swear a personal oath: swift and unceremonious death to our opposition so that FINIS can be written to this Life-Death struggle for all time.
[Vol. XII, #8- Aug., 1983]
Truth, Heritage & Blood
Earlier in SIEGE, in the section concerning "The System", I spoke of the decline of architecture which I have observed over the decades here in Chillicothe, Ohio. Other expressions of culture such as music, art, and literature have gone the same way and in the same time span as architecture. For the rest, to try and establish a root cause and attempt to find and answer, we have to take in matters such as exactly what true values are and should be, how and why to remain a part of the whole and not become "atomized" as are the majority today, and of course the most important consideration of all - maintaining the purity of the blood. One can lament all day and all night with the "historians" over the loss of this or that prized, old building but the first instant one mentions why it is, what it is part of and where it is leading, you rapidly lose them. That, of course, is one reasons why I am a National Socialist and not merely a historian.
Only this afternoon I had a discussion with a young school girl, the daughter of a friend of mine, and I explained to her about the lost, and even twisted, meaning of a great many passages found in the Bible. The real meaning of "adultery" was one and the real meaning of "neighbor" was another. I believe I made some headway. But I told her that the Bible was no more than a compilation of memories - long distant even at the time of their writing - whose actual basis and meaning had already been largely lost through countless generations of retelling, deletion, embellishment, etc. A thing so far removed from the One Truth that inspired it that it is practically useless. A thing so vague in fact that, yea, verily, even the Devil can quote it toward his own ends.
I told her of other holy books, older than the Bible and therefore nearer to the One Truth, or if you will, "the Word of God", or as I prefer, a more accurate account of what did happen back at the beginning of time. How we got here and what, if any, laws were at that time given. I left out any comment on books written in the previous and current century that are far more relevant and nearer the Truth than is the Bible. The point being that things get lost. That's not to say they can't be refound or even re-invented, but that should never be taken as any kind of a "breakthrough" but rather like learning to walk again after an accident or a stroke.
If we can't remember - or manage to hang onto - where we came from and why, then is it any wonder that temporary things like civilizations come and go like sand castles? In the United States today, it is rare when a White person is able to trace his lineage back beyond great-grandparents. For most, that barely clears the turn of the last century. In human terms, that is practically within living memory. What "culture" then is this? Members of the Movement understand how so much has been lost by our people over the last sixty years. True, it has been no accident, but it is just as real and just as effective nonetheless. And how close is the present culture to being erased? They say it can't happen because of microfilm and videotape, etc., but what if the power goes out and stays out? Our books? Illiteracy is on the rise and the ongoing corruption of the English language through "jive talk", etc., threatens to get it so off-base that a separate tongue will emerge altogether. The ancient Egyptian language - a creation of the White Race - was completely lost and unintelligible for thousands of years (even in Egypt) until Napoleon's expedition to the Pyramids uncovered the Rosetta Stone which provided the key to its translation. "But it can't happen here." Famous last words.
A few hundred years gone by and no one here today sees or thinks of "America" as being no more, no less than an extension of Europe. To them, " Europe " is some funny place "over there" where they speak funny languages. Civil war, world war, fratricidal war... there is little doubt that this present civilization - in its degenerated, bastardized state - will self-destruct and vanish as well it should, and quite likely within the present human lifespan. What will go on? Let us hope that the end of this Beast System, which can only facetiously be referred to as a "civilization", will be concluded before its effects can totally inundate the pure. White blood that still exists in great amounts in North America, Europe and the Soviet Union...
Then the cycle can be set to go around another ten thousand years or so.
[Vol. XII, #10- Oct., 1983]
Honor - Loyalty - Discipline
To a National Socialist the definitions of these words are just about impossible to separate. In any case, this was the motto of the National Socialist Youth Movement of which I was a member from 1966 to 1970, and was printed boldly across the top of the NSYM membership cards. I always carried my own cards - one for each of the four years I was part of the NSYM - proudly on my person at all times and would often take the current one out of my wallet and look at its beautiful design and ponder those words. As a youth in contemporary America of the 1960's, the words were familiar enough from literature, etc., but their real meaning was something I was only just then starting to learn on my own. There was the local ration of kooks and hangers-on which I had but little choice other than to pal around with but I wasn't long in realizing that I was the only National Socialist within a hundred-mile radius. It got lonely at times.
These words - Honor, Loyalty, Discipline - came into sharp focus for the first time for me during one of my earlier confrontations with the System, this time represented by the local school administration. A new semester had just begun and I was at a new building, with a new (and reputedly tougher) faculty. They were aware of my record as an "incorrigible" and knew my stated aim was to break free of the school system once and for all. They were determined to prevent me.
On the first day of the new season, after I had staged my anticipated opening play and now found myself seated in the office of the assistant principal, awaiting whatever their next move might be, one of the school's three "guidance counselors" abruptly whisked into the small room with an obviously rehearsed spiel of threats to the effect, "Okay, boy, you're going to court!" With that psychological ice-breaker out of the way, and seeing me non-plused, he sat down and started to try and "reason".
Finally he got around to the stories which were rife that I was a Nazi. Yes, indeed I was. Thinking it must surely be some kind of put-on, he asked whether I had any identification to that effect, whereupon I wasted no time in producing my NSYM card. He was silently impressed and just gazed down at it for a moment before speaking. The only thing he could come up with was that it said on the card something about "discipline" and did I think that I was now behaving in a disciplined manner? And for the first time ever, I was forced to seethe deep division between loyalties and that code of discipline that my honor was demanding of me.
My answer to that obviously loaded trick-question on the part of this poor man's "Justice Jackson" was that, since I owed this System no loyalty or respect whatsoever, and since I openly considered it to be my personal enemy, my discipline was being directed toward opposing it and trying to break away from it in any manner available to me, including risking possible legal repercussions from it.
He handed my card back. I never did go into juvenile court and, within less than ninety days, I was indeed out of there, once and for all, and in full service of the Movement where my discipline could be put to better use.
This "counselor", whom troubled students - mere youths in their formative stages - were supposed to go to for help and advice, failed to grasp the larger meaning of my answer and next posed the second question: what did I think would have happened to anyon
e acting as I was, in Germany under Hitler? He could not see that my anti-social behavior there and then was not "for the hell of it", nor was it even part of my nature, but rather an irresistible course of action forced upon me by an absolutely intolerable situation that was, and still is, referred to as "universal, compulsory liberal education" I was rebelling against the so-called "education system" which was only at that time beginning to crank out endless hordes of illiterates with high school diplomas; become factories for race-mixing, of introductions to dope use, liberal ideas, and worse. No, in Hitler's Germany I'd have diligently applied myself like a tiger.
This only just means that 'Honor - Loyalty - Discipline' has no meaning whatsoever in this place, at this time, and among these people. Not even among the learned, conservative World War Two veterans that were the "older generation" when I was a kid. In simple terms, they can't see beyond the ends of their noses nor to the right or left of the blinders they are wearing. I came up against this early in life. Maybe that has colored my view of people and things to a more marked degree than most others even inside the Movement. Two lessons taught to me at that time were: one, doing what you have to do as you see it, and, two, arriving at the end conclusion of a certain principle in the most direct fashion, in the shortest possible time.
Morally, I left that forty-odd-year-old man, who had to at least have held a bachelor's degree, in the dust as a Hitler Youth at the age of sixteen. And, as anyone from that period will be aware, revolutionary training in those days of the American Nazi Party was pretty skimpy. Can you imagine what can happen when we start to do it right?
[Vol. XII, #10- Oct., 1983]
Poor but Honest
We're down and out for a very simply reason: we have no place in what's going on. That's also why we're revolutionaries. The only sad and silly part comes in when those in that position fail to appreciate or understand it. That's true miserability.
We've always worked without the basic necessities, even food. But in a better organized situation we had each other to depend on. You must be prepared to go it strictly ALONE with no one to depend on and no one to complain to. You'll discover that to really be outside and against the System is a total thing, not halfway or part-time as many have pretended in the past. Anyone thinking they can step outside Master's rules only to the extent that Master doesn't notice or object is self-deceIving and worthless to the Cause. We've seen literally armies of these types come and go. It may be hard, it may well be impossible, for most to go through what has been gone through - especially in the midst of more or less "normal" times when, as an infant might remark, "you don't have to" - in order to truly be part of the Movement but, for those who are able, even in these times, there are certain rewards.
You'll become physically and mentally tough. You'll lose any fear. Minus any fanfare or uniform of any kind, even with your commitment a complete secret, you'll stand apart and inspire wonder and respect. You'll in fact be a leader. You'll become resourceful and can make do with nothing. No situation, no opponent will daunt you. You will no longer be "victim" material. You will cease to be part of the herd of sheep but will instead have become a lone wolf. Your inner spirit will feel satisfied because you will know that you are - probably for the first time in your life - fully a part of the quest for actual survival rather than for temporary pleasure and false "security". You'll be rich in your manhood or womanhood. You won't be a slave.
Let there be no complaint lodged against those trashy ones who turn their backs on struggle and refuse to support the Cause. Do we desire to make ourselves dependent upon their pleasure and their whim? Let there be no room for doubt in the coming disaster, regardless of what form it may take or what timetable it may keep. That, as we have said, will be the Day of Judgment and, for the most part, it will be entirely beyond our power to effect others' fate either by our praise or condemnation. It will go according to how they have lived. Harsh circumstances, and not a vengeful god, will be the judge. Amidst the sudden hell and chaos, what will the sloppy and lazy ones do? For ourselves, we'll hardly notice any change for we'll feel right at home.
[Vol. XII, #12- Dec, 1983]
On Your Own
It's not on OUR own but on YOUR own. After all, how much help can I expect from you and how much can you expect from me? Quadruple this in times of great stress. Let's face it, we are islands, for the most part, and the quicker we face up to the fact, the sooner we'll be able to deal effectively and intelligently with it. I've seen it too often in years past whenever someone got their tail in a jam. Those in positions to get the word out may certainly do so, but never have I seen support, in the amount needed, come in to effect the situation one way or another. That's reason number one why I never have bothered to make appeals on behalf of myself or my operation. When a comrade requests of me that I print an appeal for him, and if it is a bona fide good cause, I'll do it as a favor but I always caution them in advance never to bank on any results.
If we are to call ourselves a Movement with any degree of seriousness then the kind of shabbiness I've laid out above is plain suicide. Flirting with ultimate, eventual disaster. I've always wondered when the Enemy would finally read the signals given out by the Movement over the decades which indicate that it CAN be knocked-over one-by-one with perfect ease - except for singular exceptions who fight back like Gordon Kahl and a precious few others - and take logical, dreaded action upon the situation. You've been asking for it. Sooner or later they'll give it to you.
None of my material is ever intended as a spook story or a down trip per se. I write about this because I take a certain, personal sense of pride - along with others - in having stood literally alone against the Beast System. I don't consider this an end goal, far from it, but if I should die tonight I will have accounted for a hell of a lot more than most others. It has its elements of satisfaction. Again, that's not enough. It is better viewed as a good preparatory phase in the development of revolutionaries. Anybody can stand in a mob or with an army. Few can stand alone. These are the only kind we want.
When I was newer at this, I would stand in amazement at the sight of ex-members of the armed forces, combat veterans in many instances, who would be quivering and quaking and whispering their intentions of imminently running during confrontations with the real enemy, the enemy at home. How did we ever win any wars? One answer is massive logistics. The other answer would apply to all peoples, everywhere, in any army you care to discuss. The ordinary soldier at the front knows in his heart of hearts that his government, hence, his people, is behind him for better or worse while he is out there risking his life. He knows he'll come in for all kinds of benefits, etc., once he gets home. If he is injured in the line of duty, he knows he's in for even more benefits and the best medical care on earth. He knows also that if he screws up he's in for hell, supplied by the same overwhelmingly huge machine he's working for. And, as Hitler pointed out in Mein Kampf, the average soldier in the world is more afraid of his own commanding officer than he is of the enemy. In short, he is not alone and he knows it.
Take the same soldier who performs honorably on the field of battle, such as Korea or Vietnam , and put him with a handful of fanatics, in a Nazi uniform, on some demonstration or picket line at home. Forget about the Negroes and Jews, but let the local White yokels come out to hoot their ignorant, idiotic brand of "patriotism" and watch what happens. He falls apart. He tucks his tail between his legs. He's on his own. He's alone.
We half-joked during the Sixties as we'd be approaching one or another "Rednest" college or university preparing for a "Bomb Hanoi" demonstration or literature distribution at the height of Vietnam that, even though we may have numbered only four to six men as opposed to a numberless Red rabble on the campus, it would require them at least a good hour to get a mob worked up before they would attack. Most of the time we were right, though not always. Even among the scum there were a few leader-types, some real zealots. Otherwise, the mob had to rely on weight of numbers, and the anonymity
and back-up that it provided, before attempting to rush us.
We tried to utilize to best advantage the maxim that nobody wants to be the first one to get it. It sort of helped neutralize their numbers game. Somebody had to be the first in. (Also, half-jokingly, we figured that one could only be attacked by a maximum of seven persons at once; the rest having to wait their turn before they could get in a punch.) Surprisingly few were willing to be among the first. In later years, when I'd be in charge of the security of an operation, I'd deliberately set things up to where, if an enemy mob tried to attack, they'd have to do so down a narrow corridor or gauntlet, practically single-file. Spoken, but unwritten, orders were to kill the first three or four and, thereafter, worry about saving your own life. This strategy never let me down on any occasion. We never seemed to run up against any scum that sincerely sought martyrdom for their scumbag cause. Being a martyr - or dying as one - really requires being A-L-O-N-E. Human types are a breed of animal that are social as hell.
I've personally witnessed many a self-styled "rough-ass", maximum security prison guards, etc., who could regale you with endless hairy stories from inside the block, etc., sit and literally cry in their beer because some woman was threatening to divorce them and take all their property plus a large chunk of their income. In the block, you have the flying squads. In divorce court, you're alone. Which brings things around to the greatest source of fear of being caught alone: loss of security.