Diary: June 9, 2013

Real History, and a Radical’s Diary

hebj
Documents on the First

Wife
says: ‘She sounds hideous,’ to
long-suffering husband, and slinks
off as he mutters, ‘Well he’s a
guy.’

[Previous
Radical’s
Diary]

Thursday,
April 25, 2013
Key
West, Florida, USA.

SELLING books right now is like pulling teeth.

I send a message to J. in Thailand at 9:22
a.m:

Just
a line or two to ask how are you doing, are
you learning Siamese, have you met any rich
WAMPANS [White aristocrats,
millionaires, princes, and
non-smokers] yet — not that time for
that is running out yet — and that all is
well here in Florida, I finished another
chapter [of the Heinrich Himmler
biography] yesterday. Income is
running slightly below Outgoings, but that is
a familiar phenomenon.

I hope you are
inundating the Danes with photos of your
adventure. If I were your grandparents, I
would be as pleased as Punch about what you
are doing, very enterprising.

Louis V. indicates an interest in the
Wolf’s Lair tour. I reply: “I am glad you’re interested in the tour. We are limiting the number of places, as usual, and have a few left.
Fifteen have applied and paid their deposits so far. To book a place the best thing to do is to make the refundable deposit by going to
this link and clicking on the
EVENTS link. . .”

V. immediately pays the $500 deposit.
Details: the tour starts in Warsaw, Poland,
September 3 and ends 10th.

I bike out to Stock Island; bike tyres are a bit soft, I think. Hard work, anyway.

Part
of our group at Hitler’s Headquarters last
time: including Graham,who is coming again
this September, paunchy Ozzie, J., official
guide, and (front row, right) Hugo HT, who is
also coming again, as we are visiting new
“Reinhardt”
sites
| 2013
tour details
| registration

Friday,
April 26, 2013
Key
West, Florida, USA.

ROBERT M. writes: “Such fun your diaries. I relish them the same way you did as a child with
Hitler’s Table Talk! A few chapters each evening, but of course its hard to stop ones self! [That’s nice] Was interested in your verdict on Lady T.” – Meaning Lady
Thatcher.

I design the new War Path jacket in the evening.

J. sends another photo: “Went elephant trekking yesterday! Now in Ko Lanta.”

Ten-thirty p.m.: “Super photo J.. You are a Golden girl, everybody agrees. Not many
WAMPANS in Siam, I guess.”

Saturday,
April 27, 2013
Key
West, Florida, USA.

UP at 7:10 a.m. after what seemed an endless night.

Another reader has written: “So pleased that you’ve posted the latest bumper edition of a Radical’s Diary, it’s late here on the West Coast so I’m going to save it all up for tomorrow morning’s coffee. . .what a treat, I’ll rush out of bed!”

Hugo likes J.’s elephant photo: “What a photograph! it must give you great pleasure to see your daughter looking so happy. It’s that sort of thing which makes children worth having
— says he who knows everything about everything.”

I contact the Polish transport company we use:

We
want to hire your bus again . . .
and the same driver if possible for the
period September 5 (10:00hr) to September 10
(18:00hr), 2013 inclusive, starting in
Warsaw-Center _ Treblinka _ Belzec _
Rastenburg _ Warsaw, with short additional
journeys from those towns.

I ADMONISH Hugo: “Karolina will
NOT enjoy the Helga story; it would be terminal, and I don’t mean Victoria Coach, I mean The First
48.” I have had much experience over the years with the female sense of humour: it is non existent.

Larry M. says:

On
another subject, I just read in the Diary of
your mysterious callers. You should just
google the numbers, if you haven’t. There is
much information found.

661
748 0240 turns out to be the number of a well-known scam where the caller says he’s from Microsoft and they’ve detected a problem and will fix it for your credit card details.
I get them here in Ireland from this and other numbers.

10:54 a.m Thanks. When I called the number I got a message from Sprint saying you cannot call this Skype umber, so I guess Sprint are on top of it.

I invite Albert to supper at Bobalou’s, and he is good fun. Back at 9:30 pm.

Sunday,
April 28, 2013
Key
West, Florida, USA.

I
WAIT for the sunlight to come on to the opposite wall, my time clock, but it is overcast today.

I remonstrate with Hugo:

I
am working on seven or eight simultaneous
tasks here. Yesterday was very soporific, had
to lie down a lot. Himmler very slow
again. It has taken over fifteen years,
unconscionable. It is his fault. Paid guests
are lining up for Wolfs Lair this September.
Another two joined and paid yesterday. We
should be around twenty. May need a bigger
bus. . .

By now she has probably got tired of the guy she spooned up the last time (the Germans say
“aufgelöffelt“, which is rather evocative), and we have twenty more rich guys (two of them with wives).

I have prepared The War Path for a reissue, four weeks’ hard work; but am short of half a dozen photos. It’s a curse. Why is
Sir John [Sawers, current chief of
MI6] going along with this Syrian Sarin nonsense. He does know there is a difference between the two words, I hope?

Hugo, a former diplomat, kindly educates me:

Because
he is an excellent civil servant, i.e. his
principles are determined by his superiors.
That is partly how he has risen so far. Yours
truly, on the other hand, asked questions
that no one dared ask or wished to answer and
drew attention to things that no one wanted
attention drawn to so I remained wallowing in
the muddy bottom of the heap where I was very
happy.

I warble to him: “Nothing quite like it for cooling the blood (mud mud glorious mud).”

Supper with Albert at the Trattoria near our little airport.

I find that J. has reported:

It’s
hardly luxury we’re staying in grotty
backpacker hostels for three quid a night!
The other two had their own elephant. Had a
journey of twenty-four hours involving four
buses and a night ferry (only eighteen quid!)
To other side of Thailand. Now on island of
Ko Tao, I think its going to be my favourite
so far. Arrived five am and now dying in
hostel reception waiting for beds to become
available.

10:39 p.m I reply: “Everything you do impresses me so much, J.. Take care. . .”

Monday,
April 29, 2013
Key
West, Florida, USA.

A BRITISH reader writes: “Having noticed through personal experience the direction our once great nation is heading and upon investigation as to the reasons why, my friends and I have discovered your writings and publications and all recognize in you a fellow
Englishman; a rare breed in the Britain of
2013.”

I thank him: “I shall be speaking in half a dozen cities in the UK this August, if you’re interested; take ten seconds to give me your details.”

Philip D writes: “I am watching the YouTube video of your fascinatingly interesting American presentation: David
Irving – The Faking of Adolf Hitler for
History – where you refer to the government’s illegal theft of your 40,000 card index on Adolf Hitler. Was the card index eventually returned to you? I am a year younger than you, and spent the war years in a convent in Enfield.

A significant event was when a large
German bomb landed on the lawn outside my dormitory without exploding.”

He adds this quote: “A time will come when a politician who has wilfully made war and promoted international dissension will be as sure of the dock and much surer of the noose than a private homicide. It is not reasonable that those who gamble with men’s lives should not stake their own.” H. G. Wells.

I like the H. G. Wells quote. He was at Imperial
College, like me, and founded the magazine
Phoenix, which I edited 1959-60.

To answer your question, the Trustees eventually (2006, four years later) returned three-quarters of my seized research archives to me: the card index hopeless jumbled, the files tipped out of their files loose into 2 -foot-square boxes, my most important archives relating to Hitler, the
Jews, Goebbels stolen; I took High Court action and forced them to pay £48,000 damages, but am not allowed to tell anybody this. My Diary knows, however.

I write to the Rhode Island Bar Association,
Re: The late Michael –, of Cranston RI

Please
recommend to me a suitable attorney for
inquiries in Cranston, RI. A local citizen,
Michael — of 444 Meshanticut Valley Pkwy,
Cranston, RI 02920 sent me a check on
December 15, for a large sum of money,
indicating in a covering letter that it was
to support our continued work in writing and
publishing. He then took his own life. The
Bank of America closed his
account. . . It seems that to meet
Michael’s final wishes I should pursue the
matter.

Please recommend a reliable attorney
versed in such matters.

Tuesday,
April 30, 2013
Key
West, Florida, USA.

FRED
Toben sends me two links to a Bournemouth,
England news items that a David Irving, was knocked off his bike and killed. Unfortunate for him. I put it on the front page, with a comment:
“Got the wrong guy.”

Sarah Bond writes from Madison Avenue about a famous book my mother wrote in the
Nineteen-Twenties:

I hope this reaches you. I do have a copy of the
Dawnchild, but would love to find another. Mine is battered and missing a few pages. . . . But my mother, then Jill Gullick, she sat for your mother for the illustrations in the Dawnchild –
she was the model for Mig.

I reply: “Dear Sarah, The Dawnchild. It has sparked a lot of interest, and you are lucky to have a copy. I bought one this last month, as luck would have it (for me), and it cost
£120 with all the illustrations in perfect condition, but I am sitting on it for the time being, as we hope to bring out a reprint some time.

“I will forward your letter to my twin brother and sister as I know they will be interested, and my daughter Paloma who is interested in the future of the book.”

The original illustrations: a sore point. My mother left all her artwork and sketch books to me. With all my archives they are in storage in
Slough, west of London, a town so ugly that John
Betjeman wrote a 1940 poem beginning, “Come friendly bombs and fall on
Slough. . .”

Wednesday,
May 1, 2013
Key
West, Florida, USA.

VERY poor night. Serious backache this morning. Dreams unaccountably about Rosemarie von dem Knesebeck, walking in a rocky landscape with her, and crossing a stream, and a short rustic boardwalk in the rocks; and that
Albert had been gunned down; and then dreams about those dreams. Layer upon layer of insomnia.

Andrew
Richards, otherwise unknown to me but evidently at a British school, writes tout court: “No. You are definitely not a[n]
historian.”

I reply: “I don’t like corresponding with somebody
I don’t know, but may I suggest you read the full Judgment by Gray J., in the
Lipstadt trial (which cost her and her publisher $13million) who specifically disagreed with the highly-paid (half million dollars) “neutral” expert witness [“Skunky”] Evans when he stated that; and then perhaps read some of my books (free downloads [here]) and then consider what real historians have said about my works [here]
and more briefly

[here]
and then perhaps, as a courtesy, identify yourself more fully.”

I COME off the bike with a bang in the rain on the way to the Post Office at one-thirty. The front tyre slithers when I take a kerb-ripple at too acute an angle, and goes out of control.
Bang my left knee badly. I don’t mind, but cars stop, people rush over to assist as though I am completely crippled. Not so.

Thursday,
May 2, 2013
Key
West, Florida, USA.

Pouring with rain for an hour midday, so I get no work done and chat with Albert downstairs.

Hugo writes: “It’s old hat now but someone handed me a cutting from the February 15, 2013
issue of The Independent which contains a review of Storr’s book ‘The Heretics’. Although
Storr wrote about a number of ‘heretics’, the article is entirely about you. This is what it said:

David
Irving went to prison for insisting that the
Holocaust never took place, and even if it did it wasn’t as bad as has been made out — and in any case Hitler didn’t know about it. At least, says Irving, there is no written evidence that
Hitler ever ordered the extermination of the
Jews — and without such evidence, it’s all rumour.

And so on and so on, paragraph after paragraph of pure sludge and brain-slop.

I point out that the first sentence of the article is “absolutely untrue. I was imprisoned for trying to reactivate the NSDAP. At the time that the law against
Wiederbetätigung, reactivation, was passed by Soviet Austria in 1945, the concept
Holocaust did not even exist.”

Friday,
May 3, 2013
Key
West, Florida, USA.

AN EXPERT advises me on the Talmud: “Jesus in the Talmud, Peter Schäfer, Princeton
University Press, page 13 and elsewhere, Jesus is sitting in boiling excrement. The author believes that the authors of the Talmud meant that Jesus was sitting in the excrement of his followers, and since they ate his flesh and drank his blood, he is sitting in his own digested flesh. No doubt you can find many
Jewish authors who deny this.”

Nice folks! All rather nasty, anyway; the scribe who wrote the Talmud must have got out of his bed of nails the wrong side that morning.

Saturday,
May 4, 2013
Key
West, Florida, USA.

HUGO writes: “Haven’t heard from Down Under for a while now. Wonder what’s cookin’?”

I suggest: “Write her and find out.
. . . I hope she is very happy, and making the right decisions.” “You ought to write. She (or more likely he) may be a heap of sand in the Outback by now. Or am I watching too many The First 48 shows?”

Supper with Albert at Bobalou’s. Loud live music band; drove us nuts, and shortly, away.

Sunday,
May 5, 2013
Key
West, Florida, USA.

I HAVE written to J.. “I hope you have taken scads of photos.” This morning she replies, “Yep many. At Koh Samui airport now, very excited to be coming home, Thailand was fun but no Bali, the islands were so touristy it had absolutely zero culture I could have been in the
Mediterranean. Tried scuba diving but hated it;
I’ve never been good with water. Scads is an unusual word. I fly from here to Bangkok then
Bangkok to Mumbai, have a zillion-hour stopover then onwards to London.

At least I can say I’ve been to India!”

I reply: “Bombay is not a nice airport. Was there in 1998 or 1989 I forget, on my world tour. . . . Are you ready for the exams? Lots of love, Daddy.”

I spend an hour reading my book The War
Path, around 1938/1939. I cannot write as well now. I am glad I am putting it back into print. No wonder it is routinely plagiarized by the Kershaws of this world.

I tell a reader:

Wikipedia
is to blame for much of the onslaught. Their
entries about me, worldwide, are the product
of a clique which has locked the entries
down, making any rectifications
impossible.

Monday,
May 6, 2013
Key
West, Florida, USA.

THUD-thud-thud, as a helicopter passes a hundred feet up, a Mosquito Control helicopter flying spray-patterns over our streets. Is it
May already?

Hugo says: “You are aware, of course, that
your talk in Berlin [September 10] will definitely lead to massive and violent
Krawallen in der Nacht, no matter where you give the talk. Berlin is well known for its violent demonstrations.”

Tuesday,
May 7, 2013
Key
West, Florida, USA.

AT seven p.m. I cycle past the cemetery to El
Siboney for a bowl of three-dollar soup but espy
Albert in the garden of the cottages there and help him water for while; and then we drive out to Bobalou’s for supper instead. I foolishly order a burger. It comes rock hard and inedible.
Good for the diet, I left it.

Thursday,
May 9, 2013
Key
West, Florida, USA.

CLASSIC FM news says that Israel today has attacked the Church of Scotland for querying that the Jews have a God-given right to the land of Israel. Despite Alec Salmon ordering half a million pounds of Scottish (i.e., our
U.K.) taxpayer money given for forced indoctrination schoolchildren visits to
Auschwitz.
Just goes to show that money can’t buy you everything.

Book sales are slowly picking up. Going to put The
War Path (1978) back in print next week, just waiting for a few missing photos. I wish I could still write as well as that. Maybe I can, but it does not seem so.

Vicente
writes me from presumably Basque country: “I let you know Wikipedia is speaking on you not very well, at least the Spanish version. They charge you on falsehood by Van
Pelt, etc. Courage. Vicente.”

10:35 a.m I reply: “Wikipedia es una bandilla de mentirosas. El articulo sobre David Irving en todo el mundo y en todas idiomas es controlado por un clique de judíos, y no se puede ni cambiar ni mejorar los errores.”

I post the Berlin talk in the bookstore at $120 a ticket, impossibly expensive.

At 5:30pm I bike out to the Rusty Anchor in a mild warm wind. Fish ‘n chips again, which they have put back on the menu. The server says I was not the only one who complained.

Saturday,
May 11, 2013
Key
West, Florida, USA.

PALOMA reports from Dorney: “Saw the rental house. Two bedrooms (although marketed as three). Tiny bathrooms. Extremely low ceilings.
Very steep staircase to one of the bedrooms. A bit spooky and shabby on inside. Sockets: about four in each room.”

Sunday,
May 12, 2013
Key
West, Florida, USA.

YURI
asks: “I’ve recently watched a video on YouTube . . . There you were asked specifically regarding the Lipstadt case. You’ve stated that you regret participating in the Zündel trials. Can you clarify why is that? What were the consequences of this trial for you?”

Stupid question. I reply: “That was when the international Jewish community set the dogs on me and my publishers.”

“But were you not already universally disliked by the said community before that point? If anything, for your portrayal of Hitler in less-than-demonic way.” — “Yes.”

I ADMONISH Hugo: “My Radical’s Diary is my genuine diary, you may not have realised that.
The original is far longer than the online text.
Yesterday alone some twenty or thirty pages of single-spaced A4 text. (Not as bad as Goebbels, who dictated 140 pages of text on Sept 8, 1943).
It is ad hoc. Not a paragraph is written specially for publication. It is hugely popular because of that no doubt.

Monday,
May 13, 2013
Key
West, Florida, USA.

INDIRECT word about Jaenelle. I reply: “You can tell her when you reply, David is glad to hear she’s still well and not under a sandheap in the Outback yet, with her face decorating
Missing-Persons posters stapled to telegraph poles along the highways, the much-ogled subject of a future ‘The First 48.”

Hugo is not helpful. “Blue, the colour of her
Dirndl, suits her very well.” He is a mischief-maker. I reply: “She showed it to me at the time. We were best friends then.”

Monday,
May 14, 2013
Key
West, Florida, USA.

I SEND a happy birthday note to Gabriela in
Peru. She turns thirty today.

Wednesday,
May 16, 2013
Key
West, Florida, USA.

TYPICAL email: “Please tell me, is there any memoirs from Fritz Darges [right, with
Hitler] in existence? If not what do you think Mr Darges opinion on the Holocaust and
Hitler would be?

• Do you think he would say Hitler did not
  order the final solution?
• Do you think he would say Hitler did not
  order the final solution, but knew the
  severity of what was happening?
• Do you think he would say Hitler did not
  order the final solution and knew nothing of
  the whole operation?
• Do you think he would say Hitler did
  order the final solution.

I reply at 8:13 p.m There are no Fritz Darges memoirs. I don’t know who you are so I cannot answer the rest of your questions.

Friday,
May 17, 2013
Key
West, Florida, USA.

A
BERLIN friend comments on the
Dresden decode which says 80,000 to 100,000
are still vermisst, missing on March 24,
1945 (three weeks after the air raid):

Of
course I’ve seen that, David. It’s an
interesting find, no doubt about that. But it
says very clearly: “Genaue statistische
Angaben erst später möglich.” Do
you really wish to ignore that? 100,000
missed persons do not translate into 100,000
dead in a case like this. It’s obvious the
Dresden authorities were completely
overwhelmed by the task. Given the
circumstances, there was no way they could
have checked 100,000 individual cases in a
matter of weeks.

How much time did it take in
Hamburg, at an earlier stage in the war, to
get a clear picture? Several months, I would
imagine.

I reply:

Good
point. For precisely this (secondary) reason
I have two pages of the book reporting
Himmler’s visit to Hamburg around August 13,
1943 [two weeks after the catastrophic
Bomber Command attacks].
Bassewitz-Behr the Höherer SS und
Polizeiführer, gave Himmler a Hamburg
figure of 22,000 – only half the 48,000 which
is now accepted for Hamburg. His report is
still ugly enough.

2.
Dresden. To be reported as missing you have to have somebody reporting you as missing, right? There were half a million refugees passing through the city that night, entire families in the streets [were]
wiped out. Heaps of ashes don’t report people missing. 80,000-100,000 reported as Vermisst means that the figure I first quoted in 1963, namely 135,000 estimated, is NOT a “lie”, as my critics like to say.

It was the best estimate given me in 1961 by Hanns
Voigt, Leiter der Abteilung Tote der
Vermißtennachweiszentrale Dresden. I guess the (then, in 1945 still-unborn) gentleman-historians highly paid no doubt by the German (?and British) Government a few years back think they know better. In the free world we call them Monday-morning quarterbacks.

I explain: “The Lipstadt trial judge [Mr
Justice Gray] agreed with her defence that my 135,000 figure was a lie, so Wikipedia now calls me a liar.”

Nearly one p.m. and I have not written a single line, just admin. all morning.

M. does not give up: at 1:28 p.m. I tell him: interestingly, Karl Bodenschatz,
Göring’s Chef des Ministeramtes, was overheard in British captivity saying that
“51,000” had been killed in Dresden. Clearly a listening error, the British army listeners thought he said einundfünfzig when he said einhundertfünfzig. “51,000” would be ridiculously precise.

Supper at Rusty Anchor. The owner Raimondo gives me a large Rusty Anchor shirt.

9:43 p.m I write to J.: “Tomorrow’s
Saturday, send me a five line or so report on how you are and how things are going. I worry about you all week. I never forget poor
Josephine, God rest her soul. All eyes are on you!” As an afterthought I add: “I also think of
Beatrice every day, although she made the mistake of moving so far away from us which doesn’t make it easy.” Australia, and I am banned from Australia.

Saturday,
May 18, 2013
Key
West, Florida, USA.

A ho-hum night. Clogged with complex dreams.
Then comes alarming news from England.

J. replies:

Really
ill at the moment. Doctor thinks it’s some
kind of tropical infection. Thought it was
flu at first. My fevers have stopped tho.
Being tested for malaria and dengue fever
on

I tell her: “Gosh now I shall worry all weekend. How are studies going? Did you turn in the lab report in time? Does Paloma know?”

The
Bavarian documents which my German lawyer sends me show that the enemy are fighting back hard, and relying on the 1993 Ich komme wieder
DVD advert to justify the ban.

Sunday,
May 19, 2013
Key
West, Florida, USA.

THERE is a hilarious State Farm insurance-company advert on television.
Disheveled husband standing in pyjamas in semi darkness downstairs at three a.m., clutching a phone. “Yes. I’m married. Does that matter?”
“Really? You’d do that for me?” Suspicious wife creeps downstairs, listens briefly, asks: “Who’s that? Who are you speaking to?” “It’s Jake, from
State Farm.”

Wife snatches phone from husband, and screams into it: “Who is this?” Husband murmurs, in an
I-just-told-you voice, “It’s Jake, from State
Farm.” Wife adopts sarcastic tone and jeers into the phone, as camera shows baffled call-center guy at other end: “What are you wearing,
‘Jake from State Farm.'” Guy is monosyllabic, in mid-west accent: “Khakis”. Wife says: “She sounds hideous,” to long-suffering husband and slinks off, as he mutters, “Well he’s a guy.”

It’s the kind of television advert one could watch again and again, and hoot.

Reminds me of B. when I was in our London drawing-room, doing a live radio interview with
Radio New Zealand in 2000. As I retrieved the snatched phone from her, still dripping with the foul expletives and accusations she had shrieked into it, I said quietly, “You’ve just spoken to four million New Zealanders.” — She denies it happened, but I was there, and so were four million New Zealand drive-time radio listeners

Monday,
May 20, 2013
Key
West, Florida, USA.

“Es muss ein komisches Gefühl sein,” I tell a friend in Germany, “als BRD-Bürger zu leben — wie unter einer Käseglocke, wo die täglichen Gesetze ganz anders sind als draußen und man laufend von der eigenen
überdimensionalen Wiederspiegelung beängstigt wird.”

Supper at Rusty Anchor, fish ‘n chips. Back at 8:45 pm.

Tuesday,
May 21, 2013
Key
West, Florida, USA.

A VERY brief but worrying text from J. timed two a.m: “I’m in hospital call Bente.”

I get this letter about German nerve gases disposal, and asking about translation facilities:

I
am from the Rhydymwyn
Valley History
Society.
We are currently researching a book on the
production and potential use of Chemical
Weapons in WWII and their subsequent
disposal. In 1945 when the 70,000+ German
250Kg bombs were removed from Raubkammer and
relocated on the runways at RAF Llandwrog
800+ of them were diverted to Rhydymwyn.

This
was probably to make them readily available
for analysis and experimentation at Sutton
Oak.

We believed all Sarin was sent to the USA and all of the Tabun was sent to the UK. It now appears that in 1945 a large number of Tabun shells were loaded in Rhine barges and sunk in shallow water in the Baltic. In 1959-60
two ships the August Peters and the
Bonita were contracted by the
Schleswig Holstein government to raise the weapons, encase them in concrete and dump them in the Atlantic Deep.

I can only reply:

If
you have anything brief you need a
translation of, I can handle it. . . The
Germans had 30,000 tons of the stuff east of
the Elbe, and Keitel ordered it all
destroyed but that obviously was not easy.
They could in theory have wiped out the
Normandy beachhead easily if Hitler had
lifted the embargo, but he refused. Didn’t
want to get a bad name.

I resume work at 10:36 a.m., very worried about poor J.. I will phone her this morning.

To my German lawyer: “Es bleibt mir nach wie vor schleierhaft, unerklärlich, wie es dem
Gegner gelungen ist, ganz einfach die
Verordnungen des Gerichts in Sache e.V. usw. zu ignorieren bzw. zu mißachten. Das hat unser Vorgehen entscheidend gelähmt, denn ohne Einsicht in das Drehbuch
[Rommel] selbst mit den
Bemerkungen und Quellenangaben wurde es schiesslich aussichtlos, wie der Gegner wohl vor- und eingesehen hat.”

Wednesday,
May 22, 2013
Key
West, Florida, USA.

PALOMA [third daughter]
reports at 6:26 a.m.: “I spoke to the hospital this morning. They say that they are still waiting for test results: they think a tropical disease. J. rang and said that last night she couldn’t breathe, she was really scared. . . She’s very scared, she’s totally isolated in Bristol.”

I reply: “It is best she stays with the doctors who know the case, unless she could be transferred to the hospital which specialises in tropical medicine.’

AN interesting article in the New York
Times yesterday reviewing a book on the high rate of rapes by GIs in France 1944-1945. It mentions Emmett Till.

Till, as the American media never tire of reminding readers, was the teenage son of a man who went to his death “wearing the uniform of the United States Army in Europe in 1945.”

What the Wikipedia entry fails to add is, Till’s father was one of the hundreds of GIs hanged for rape (and murder) in Europe after D-day.
[Update , Saturday, July 13, 2013: there is in fact now a Wikipedia entry for Louis Till,
Emmett’s father. See bottom of this page ].

Arrested for brutally beating his wife Mamie,
Till’s father had been ordered by the judge in
1943 to join the US Army or face prison. Young
Emmett Till himself was brutally and savagely murdered in 1955 Mississippi by two Whites in revenge for allegedly molesting a White woman shopkeeper.

I look him up in Wikipedia, but it tells us only: “Emmett Till was the son of Mamie Carthan (1921–2003) and Louis Till (1922–1945)” with no hyperlink to the father.

Good ole Wikipedia. Ever more politically correct. How delicate. All the news that’s fit to print.

I caused controversy inadvertently by referring to the high rate of GI rapes in France, in The
War Between the Generals, based on files I found in the Dwight D Eisenhower Library. I had not realised that most if not all those executed were Blacks. Why am I not surprised? Wikipedia has developed a Liberal-Marxist list, suggesting that it has struck an iceberg somewhere en route from its promising launch ceremonies.

Breaking news – two men ‘of Moslem appearance’ armed with knives and guns have just hacked a man in a ‘Help for Heros’ T-shirt to death in a road in Woolich, shouting ‘Allah-hu-aqbar! which
Moslems always do when they do unspeakable things. One did the deed while the other filmed him doing so.

Boy, is the Commonwealth immigration coming to bite the British in the butt now.

MARC Iancu writes:

You
often refer to the Leuchter-Report. What I
don’t understand is, how can you still
believe this document, as it is clearly
written by a non-expert debunked many times
by other scientists to be scientific?

I don’t normally respond to anonymous correspondents, but the answer to the above is:

1. I know Fred Leuchter personally and you
   don’t.
2. What kind of expert does it take to
   extract samples (38 of them) from walls?
3. The expertise was by the US
   forensic laboratory which conducted the
   chemical analyses, and their expert quality
   has never been challenged. Have your read
   their results? They were tables appended to
   the Leuchter Report. If you have not, there
   is not much point corresponding with
   you.

2:28
p.m Hugo reports:

Prime
Minister flying back from Europe. Murder now described as a ‘major terrorist incident’. Now confirmed that the victim was a young soldier, presumably in civilian dress, returning to
Woolwich Barracks after doing duty in London.
The attackers, who you will be astonished to hear were Black and ‘home grown’, tried to hack the soldier’s head off and then danced round his body as only members of the sable race can.

One of them, both hands dripping with blood, spoke before a television camera before the police arrived and carted him off.

The British people won’t take kindly to one of their soldiers being murdered by Black thugs on England’s streets. The Government is worried about the implication that every British soldier will now be in mortal danger not only in
Afghanistan but in his own country and that every Black man will be regarded as a potential assassin (though of course the police will be reminded that they mustn’t stop and search people simply because they are Black).

J. informs me: “Did they tell you I had a massive allergic reaction last night
. . . It was absolutely terrifying and nurse was in tears.”

If she wants me to go to Bristol (I’ve told her I will go when she says the word) I can go.

Thursday,
May 23, 2013
Key
West, Florida, USA.

I TRY the pool. Hmmm. When I come back inside, I notice that the fifty-dollar bill I got from Fausto’s is missing. I must have dropped it somewhere. I search obsessively, but it is very definitely lost.

I send an American supporter a chapter of
Himmler.

I
thought you’d like to see the progress I am
making with the big book on Himmler (thanks
partly to your support). Every now and then I
send a chapter out to a dozen friends who are
experts on one aspect or another, for their
comments.

Here’s the next chapter of the “Himmler” manuscript draft, Number 38. We’re running way overweight, but I am not really worried. I try to introduce the English light touch from time to time. Die feine englische Art.
People tell me they want a blockbuster and it will still be that when I finish, and I shall cut about a third or a quarter out before going into print.

I remember the US publisher who was doing
“Göring” asking me, after they had set it in galley proofs, to cut out 2,000 lines.
We managed. Everything industrial went, for example. Boffin, by the way, means a geek, a scientific wizard. It’s post-war
English. Eventually the Americans will find a way to screw that word up, the way they have screwed every other English word. Gay, for instance. Or homely. Or
tyres.

Paloma reports in after returning to London from
Bristol: “Went to see J. today.
Unfortunately, because . . . we didn’t get the jabs as kids (because they didn’t have it at the time) I couldn’t go in to see her.”

— “Sorry you could not get in. I am glad
Hugo did. I worried myself sick the last few days and am still worrying for poor J.. It is a father’s lot.”

Hugo’s report takes a different slant: “I enjoyed meeting Paloma. We talked about you all the way there and all the way back and the car rocked to peals of uncontrollable mirth. Oh, what fun we had!”

Friday,
May 24, 2013
Key
West, Florida, USA.

I SEARCH again for the fifty dollar bill that was lost, but lost it is. It comes out of my daily allowance for the next few days. Grrr.

Bournemouth
Echo reports on yesterday’s hearing against poor old Clifford Luton.
[right, BBC man in court on abuse charges] I am feeling sorry for him, being persecuted for alleged “paedophilia” now, after forty years or more. What is wrong with Britain?

We surely have more pressing problems: getting the Blacks back out for a start, or at least those that we still can. Then the Muslims. Or both.

Saturday,
May 25, 2013
Key
West, Florida, USA.

11:50 a.m. I post thank-you letters. As I bike over to the Post Office, and pass beneath a tree, a large bird scores a breathtaking direct hit with a gob of crap on my right hand, which is gripping the brake as usual.

Difficult to explain, and impossible to dispose of before I get back to the house: I can’t very well lick my hand clean, or wipe the crap-mound off the back of my hand on the seat of my trousers. I affect not to notice, but I suspect that the Black post office clerk wonders what the large white thing is on the back of my hand as I buy the stamps.

Crap: a daily occurrence. Some people speak it (Richard
“Skunky” Evans comes to mind. Others cook it. I have started a new legend. English writers carry it around on the back of their right hand.)

Feeling lethargic most of the day, and little appetite.

Sunday,
May 26, 2013
Key
West, Florida, USA.

MUSLIM leaders’ Auschwitz visit boosts Holocaust knowledge – boosts Auschwitz: “The 11 imams, sheiks and religious teachers from nine countries met a Holocaust survivor.” They could have booked our September tour and learned what
really went on.

3:15 p.m Dear Hugo,

Paloma
is in a panic because she thinks she may have
left her eyeglasses in your car and she is
frightened to ask you to look thoroughly for
them. I don’t know how you frightened her.
Can you burrow under the car seats etc., and
put my mind at rest? Very hot here. In London
too, I guess?

Paloma says: “Thanks. Hopefully Hugo has my glasses. . .”

Grrr. “Hopefully“.

A financial problem crops up. This unexpected problem will push even further into the future the day when I can collect the already-renovated vintage Rolls from the workshop, and I am not pleased about that.

At this instant the bookstore jangles, and
$400 arrives from [an American regular contributor]. I write him at once:

3:50 p.m:

Coincidence!
I just mailed to you a nice thank-you letter.
I am surrounded by all sorts of problems.
Four daughters are four problems, the fifth,
God rest her soul, no more. Poor J., the
youngest, gave us all a scare this week by
being rushed to hospital after her return
from the Far East, very ill indeed. I was
already looking up airline timetables; she
had the docs in Bristol guessing, but they
have finally decided it is glandular fever.
She is going to be ill for some months.

She
is the big White Hope for our
future. . .

I shall do a big eastern US tour, east of the Mississippi, this
October/November
and see you then, God willing. First we make our annual “pilgrimage” to Hitler’s headquarters in East Prussia.

Gott mit uns, as the German soldiers’ buckle said. We got mittens too, was our response: As I put on my shoes to bike to El
Siboney, I notice a fifty-dollar bill flattened inside one of them: where I put it for safety when I came in from the pool a few days ago. I forgot that. The Prodigal Fifty has returned. No
Fatted Calf awaits it, but a modest meal at the
El Siboney costing $5 all told.

Fortunately Paloma has good news too: Hugo has contacted Paloma: “A million trillion apologies but, after we spoke, I completely forgot to go and look for your spectacles. . .
When I saw David’s e-mail I raced out to the car and eventually found the specs. They had actually slipped under the seat and, being in a black case, were not easily seen.”

“Thanks Hugo. You’re a pal. It has been a bumpy ride this last week or two with J.’s illness. I was very worried for her.
. . . The old Rolls fades into the distance more and more.”

Tuesday,
May 28, 2013
Key
West, Florida, USA.

A NIGHT of weird dreams, thanks to last night’s crabcake as usual.

I sent the new War Path jacket to
Kevin and Hugo last night. Hugo writes:

I
was once told by a publisher that, if you
want to sell a book, wither it’s about golf
or knitting patterns, try to get a swastika
on the cover and it will sell like hot cakes.
I am sure that a photograph of Hitler will do
just as well and that, combined with your
names, should ensure the book is a best
seller.

I reply: “Robert Harris made that mistake. His book Fatherland had to be scrapped in Germany for precisely that reason.
Ask your sister.”

M. sends excellent comments on chapter
38.

President Benes, who had fled to the
United States: “He didn’t flee. He had a valid passport and took a plane. He simply left the country.”

I reply: “If it looks like flee and tastes like flee, I call it flee.
He certainly did not hang around to admire the
Hugo Boss uniforms” — meaning, of the SS.

He also takes exception to a phrase,
“Marga dismissed it as ‘a touch of flu'”.
This evokes my response: “Wives have a habit of hyping their own medical problems and playing down their husbands’. I shall not forget hearing
Bente on the phone telling precisely the same to a friend, “He has a touch of flu,” just after the doctor had left in May 1996 (I had for the first and only time in my life summoned one for a house-call as I could not move).

He pronounced the news that I had a serious case of pneumonia: it almost took me down. It was the same day as The Washington Post
phoned me with the news that St Martin’s Press had cancelled Goebbels. Not a good day to remember. I could not get out more than five words at a time in reply.

AT the Post Office, I am trapped by a heavy cloudburst. An incoming customer tells me that the rain is going to be heavy all day, according to the Doppler radar; so I remove my outer clothes and put them in a Post Office box to keep them dry, and cycle back through drenching rain and thankfully deserted streets to the house.

The rain is so heavy it blinds me as I bike, most unpleasant; last time that happened was bringing J. back from Higgs Beach to
Newton Street — with her one-year old and sitting in the bike basket — in 1995.

It rains heavily all day, and I am virtually imprisoned and feel no drive to write or work. I do minor administrative things, and generally waste time. Grrr. No food in the house, so I have lived off four slices of toast all day.

Wednesday,
May 29, 2013
Key
West, Florida, USA.

RAINS heavily from midday onwards to four pm.
To El Siboney for supper, but the Lima bean soup is so awful that I do not even dip my spoon into it: strange little white maggoty things floating in it. I pay and leave it untouched. (I am eating less and less; four slices of toast during the day again.)

Thursday,
May 30, 2013
Key
West, Florida, USA.

FROM seven a.m. Mosquito Control helicopter thud-thuds up and down, or rather to and fro, low overheard. — A night populated with a thousand exhausting dreams, two of them involving young ladies in difficulties whom I help one way or another. —

I have paid a bundle of money to Getty for the front-page Goebbels photo by Alfred
Eisenstaedt (altho’ no doubt St Martin’s Press already paid the licence fee in 1996), and spend the evening remaking the artwork for the jacket for our reprint. Fonts are a minor problem.

I bike up to Stock Island for supper, through swarms of bugs, 1,000 bugs per square foot. I am covered in them.

Patrick somebody asks:

I am inquiring into your speaking tour of the USA this fall, 2013. I’m the attorney that attended your talk last year in Omaha, Nebraska with my wife, and was also able to meet you for lunch.
If you could provide me with your schedule of cities and dates, my wife and I would like to try to coordinate to see you speak again. Also, what will be the topics? And finally, how is
Himmler coming along?

In your years researching the archives, have you been able to determine how it was that Dr. Fritz
Todt’s plane crashed. Some sources report an explosion mid-air, prior to the aircraft crashing to the ground. Just curious.

7:08
p.m I reply, “I know, because she told me, that
Ilsebill Todt was sure that Albert
Speer had planted a bomb in her father’s plane. There is no proof of that at all. The pilot of the Heinkel 111 took off, immediately turned back to report an emergency landing, radioed that there was a fire in the cockpit; crashed, and burned.

Hitler ordered that in future all important planes should have a cockpit voice-recorder. (See my Milch book
[left] for the transcript of that). I will speak in Omaha this autumn. Just typed a list this evening of locations, not yet finalised.”

I tell our Tennessee printer:

Kick
your credit control up the backside. I am not
interested in more rude and ungrammatical
replies from your Sherry somebody. We have no
outstanding invoices with you.

Friday,
May 31, 2013
Key
West, Florida, USA.

AN Indian
writes: “Hello Sir, can you please share your views about Second World War with me?”

“Normally I would be happy to, but I am very very very busy writing Himmler. Sorry.”

I copy the exchange to J.. She says:
“That made me laugh so much.”

I say: “It is like the people who stand up at the end of my lecture, and say, “Mr Irving can I ask just a short question please? Where do you stand on Christianity?” (With stiletto heels?).

I WRITE to our English printers:

Re:
GOEBBELS: MASTERMIND OF THE THIRD
REICH

Print order: We are nearly ready to give you the
GOEBBELS print job. I have reconstructed the jacket (I attach a low-resolution copy of the artwork) based on the original St. Martin’s Press design, and I am searching for half a dozen missing pictures for the body of the book (it first went to press in 1996); the whole body of the book is complete and proof-read. We had to scan it and reset it from scratch.

Jacket:
I will give you a final page total and your people can give me a spine width. The attached artwork has the exact dimensions of the original St. Martin’s Press edition. What will you need from us for the jacket work: for the binding-brasses, what will you need if anything? The yellow words GOEBBELS (front and spine) will be Gold-foil, and slightly embossed (raised).

Black:
Is the black on the enclosed artwork over-saturated?

Images:
There will be three signatures of images in b/w and colour.

Payment:
We propose putting you in funds for two-thirds of the estimated print order, as discussed, and giving the balance on job-completion.

Saturday,
June 1, 2013
Key
West, Florida, USA.

SIX p.m. I cycle against a fierce headwind to the Rusty Anchor; very black and threatening clouds over Stock Island.

Three very noisy post-menopausal women at the next table, one talking at the top of her voice
— shouting, like all American women, with at least one large glass of rose wine inside her.
Men are no better. She eventually totters out with the other two, as she fumbles in her bag for the car keys.

While I have the fish ‘n chips, the clouds debouche, and when I come back through rain puddles the fierce headwind has turned right round against me again, the flags flying stiffly against me from their masts.

Sunday,
June 2, 2013
Key
West, Florida, USA.

OUR
German lawyer’s account in our plagiarism action against Teamworkx GmbH for their television film based, on their own experts’ admission, on my
Rommel biography is for $4,000. Not good.
. .

All in all, my halting the
ROMMEL action has been very costly; but it would have been wrong to throw more money at it, as their stonewalling tactics prevailed against our open-visier methods. Our expert’s inadequate — over-woolly
— Gutachten was part of the problem.

They themselves admitted that the original
ROMMEL script was largely based on my book, but then they refused to show it to us despite a court order; in England, a film company would have done the decent thing and paid what they morally owed.

My success against MGM Studios over their 1965 film
Operation
Crossbow, which was illegally based on my
1964 book The Mare’s Nest, was one example.

9:28 a.m I tell my lawyer: “. . .
Wenn ich mir die Bemerkung erlauben darf, so ist es mein Bedauern, daß trotz mehrfacher
Anregungen meinerseits wir damit nicht rechtzeitig an die Öffentlichkeit herangetreten sind. Daß die Teamworkx sich stur geweigert hat, uns das Drebuch zu zeigen, hätte sehr stark für uns gesprochen.
Es stimmte ja sehr bedenklich.

Stattdessen haben
“wir” von Anfang bis Ende geschwiegen, die
Gegner beherrschten die Bühne, und zwar mit ihren schmutzigen bislang nicht begegneten (und auch irrelevanten) Diffamierungen (“Holocaust-Leugner”) usw. Unter diesen
Umständen hatte es m.E. keinen Zweck, die
Sache weiter zu verfolgen.”

THE piracy goes on. I write to Pedro
Varela: “Dear Pedro

I
received a message from Chile today, telling
me that a Bogotá publisher, Solar, has
published three titles by me in Spanish. We
have sold no rights to Solar, and we would
not do so because of their reputation. I am
not happy about this, but want to inquire
first if you knew this? The mensaje
says:

Just one question are you aware about a Colombian edition of your books Dresden and Hitlers
War?.As you can see in this link of a Chilean library this editions are very easy to find here in Chile.

I attach an image of the page from the Solar website. .

Greg ++++ writes: please give me a ball park time to arrive in Warsaw and time to depart. I reply: “That is quite all right,
Greg. Make sure you read page 2 of our “green” four-page prospectus which has useful tips and hints.”

GREY and pouring with rain here all afternoon.
Nothing to do but write, and got no money.

Raining most of the afternoon. Then to
Fausto’s and to El Siboney for a bowl of split-pea soup with anonymous lumps of pink meat in it, which I eschewed.

Doyal G. writes: “Re: Max Hastings as an historian: What do you think of him? I have been watching him on C-Span talking.”

I reply:

He’s
okay as a human being. A bit arrogant, but he
is a brave man and defended me powerfully in
public, which says a lot for him. I cannot
judge his qualities as an historian, other
than that I doubt he has had much time for
archival research.

Monday,
June 3, 2013
Key
West, Florida, USA.

ALBERT phones up and we go to Harpoon Harry’s for breakfast.

I bike over to El Siboney for a bowl of soup, but every seat is taken and I decide I am not hungry and return.

In the evening as the television offerings, are dull, — no episode of The First 48,
— I start work updating the Goebbels
index. What it has cost us to reconstruct this book and its picture section, if only in time and labour! It first appeared in 1996 just as litho printing was switching from film to digital. Our carefully preserved printing films including the colour sections were rendered obsolete.

We had the book, expensively bought second-hand, scanned in India, and it had ten thousand (literally) scanning errors, mainly the superior footnote-numbers. Every one has had to be manually corrected, but now the job is ready: in a few weeks, if we raise the capital, we go back into print with it.

Tuesday,
June 4, 2013
Key
West, Florida, USA.

JONAS
Alexis asks: “Can you send me the article about how much Evans was paid for the trial again?”

I
GIVE him the figure, and add:
“. . .but it would be fair to remind you that on the basis of his expert reports
Evans was then commissioned by Penguin, a co-defendant, to write his three-volume
Third Reich history, and paid a reputed million pounds advance for that. What an inducement! The books were never going to earn that sum back. Had I only known that at the time of the trial! (Expert witnesses are in law required to be neutral between the parties).”

Wednesday,
June 5, 2013
Key
West, Florida, USA.

I AM advancing with the next Himmler
chapter again. — I plough through about a hundred more digit-corrections in the
Goebbels Index. (The source notes are mostly displaced by one page from the original edition: Grrrr). I find a font,
Haettenschweiler, which is very close, if not identical, to the GOEBBELS font on the jacket, and make the swap.

Hitler wears glasses as he sketches an architectural idea; photographed at the Berghof by his adjutant Nicolaus von Below. HUBBARD COLLECTION.
From: David
Irving: The War Path

Thursday,
June 7, 2013
Key
West, Florida, USA.

THE five new Hitler photos come and I finish the picture section of The
War Path except for one or two items.

Six pm I bike to the Rusty Anchor. Heavy rain begins as I cover the last half mile, and then torrential. After fish ‘n chips I wait a while then bike back in rain to Newton Street.

Saturday,
June 9, 2013
Key
West, Florida, USA.

On 8 Jun 2013, at 11:51 a.m., a gun-worshipper writes:

I
find it amazing that you have joined the
brain-dead anti-gun lobby whose propaganda is
both insane and illogical. It is also amazing
that you as historian who has written
extensively on war cannot distinguish a
machine gun from a semi-auto rifle; that is
more typical of left-wing draft
dodgers.

The hard truth is that the Sandy Hook shooter and his mother did not have a single machine gun in their possession!!! That a gun looks like an assault does not make it an assault gun, even less a machine gun. In fact, that shooter could have accomplished his goals with simple shotguns, which are available e.g. in France without any license and which are probably the most common firearms in
Britain. What is more, he could have created far more mayhem with simple Molotov cocktails.

Then, ban petrol and glass bottles. That shows how idiotic anti-gunners are.

Besides, didn’t you even know that before WW1 anyone in Britain could buy a genuine machine gun without any license? Yet, there were no mass shootings in Britain. In other words, accessibility to firearms has zero impact on violent crime.

I used to think that you are an individual capable of rational thinking and an author very much worth reading. But now, your wholly irrational kneejerk commentary has destroyed your credibility, a military historian unable to distinguish between a rifle and a machine is worthless.

I reply, (a waste of time), “Until the brain-dead gun worshippers took over, not a single policeman in England carried any kind of firearm, because one was not needed. That was my
England. Then the culture of gun-worship and drugs and rap was introduced to us” — from across the Atlantic, I might have added.

I bike over to El Siboney for a bowl of soup; the offering is Lima bean, and again it has floating objects of uncertain etiology or origin, and I leave it untouched. I want to pay, but will not have the Lima beam soup there again.

[Previous
Radical’s
Diary]

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Louis_Till

“While serving in the Italian
Campaign, Till was arrested by military police, who suspected him of the murder of an Italian woman and the rape of two others in Civitavecchia.
After a lengthy investigation he was court martialed, found guilty, and sentenced to death by hanging. The sentence was carried out at the United
States Army Disciplinary Training
Center north of Pisa

on July 2,
1945.[4][5] He was a fellow prisoner of American poet Ezra
Pound, who had been imprisoned for collaborating with the Nazis and
Italian Fascists. Private Till is mentioned in lines 171-173 of Canto 74
of Pound’s Pisan Cantos:[6]

Till was hung yesterday

for murder and rape with
trimmings

Private Louis Till was buried in
Grave 73, Row 7 of Plot E in Oise-Aisne
American Cemetery.”

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