“And so we wait,” sighed Reimer, “Life, next to time, will send us a lot!”
“Pah,” a Viannese named Hase, who’d been the Over-Lieutenant of the division Das Reich, made the gesture.
“Ever since I was a soldier, I became used to being overwhelmed.” Soft blue eyes twinkled with slight amusement from his otherwise hardened face. “I’m happy to have vacations from the mudholes and not having to endure twenty-four hour firing spells.” Becoming serious again, he continued, “We all know in our little circle here that warring parts have continued to be divided through the last dramatic events in the world of the Lebensraum of the white human race. While we wait, they acquire new frontlines. Not only the East – the whole colored world has been controlled by subtle forces to rise up against the whites!”
“This shifting of fronts confirms the ancient Greek proverb pantha rhei – everything flows,” added Recke, “At Point 103 we still had the colored world beside us. I doubt it’ll stay that way. Even the special position of the Germans to colored peoples will wane. Greater Thule will have to become the sword and shield even for the blinded of the white Lebensraum. Then comes our parole and our hour!”
“We Franks also will also be there again,” said Frêne with emphasis, “Many of us have already grasped the deeper sense behind everything that’s happeing. Didn’t my friends help defend a broken Berlin in a situation of war that became hopeless?”
While the men nodded to Frêne, he asked Von Lothar of the French, “What’s going to happen now?”
Recke raised his hand, “Frêne can come with me for the time being. I’ll always have room for a comrade!”
The Carcassonner sought to fend this off.
“No excuses, Major!” said Recke, cutting off every objection.
“That’s right,” affirmed Hase, “Close together and then straight through. That was also the old division’s motto. We survivors must stay together, to be able to hold our own!”
“That we will do,” agreed von Lothar, “We remain a stronghold of the spirit in survival of this era. We’re guilty to the dead of three Reichs.”
“Greater Thule is to become the new spiritual concept for all white peoples of the North, a spiritual Reich above all structures of state and time, in the old and new world. In this womb also lies the fourth Reich of the Germans!” Hase leaned forward, bright lights dancing in his eyes. “I know a hundred-year-old text that speaks of a mountain white at midnight and of the white midnight sun. Tiger and dragon beset the heroes of the north. Even the three-fold Diadem of the Pope turns to dust.
“Another passage of the transcript from the year 1671 announced that Europe would bear a powerful child, a lord of the fourth Reich! And in the “Themis Aurea” there’s talk of a Germania that lies wide over the geographical boundaries of which until today divide nations. The demonism of the collective is known in the old foresight and realized as Gog and Magog. The great anonymity in the world-system of today have indeed mobilized nihilism against us, they have used black and grey magic through their Beth-Midrashim on a metaphysical level, temple and ark activated and in foreseeable times turning the colored peoples against us and to oppress us.
“We face a decisive movement of history. The now lost war was only a prelude, not the end. Friedrich Schiller coined the words: Evil may win the day, but eternity belongs to the true and good. Be we ready!”
In the room was a deep silence. Through the window danced sunbeams. The Salzburg sky showed a deep, rich blue and the sun itself hung like a gold-blazing disk in the firmament.
“Blue and gold – the ancient Antlantean colors,” said Hase after a while with a slightly husky voice.
Dreamily he continued, “They’re the colors of the sons of the sun, of those my friend Edmund Kiss spoke to me when I was in the prison camp at St. Avold with him. They held us there worse than animals. The prisoners were dying off like flies and we felt the power that wanted to break us. By the time we were discharged as survivors, Kiss was terminally sick. And therewith he ripped up his work. He went away too soon, like Kurt Eggers and many others. But he left us this piece of knowledge in his book Swans of Thule:
The earth once belonged to the Northern people, now they are smashed and shattered and err on the ice-ridges of Thule, like the swans of their homeland.
But the lance of the soul still seeks the peaks and heights.
In the deepest need they are determined to once again impart the world round with the pressure of their souls.