“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.
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