Diary: October 16, 2011

Real History, and a Radical’s Diary

Documents on the First

Disgruntled.
No transactions today, which does
little to gruntle
me.

[Previous
Radical’s
Diary]

Thursday,
October 6, 2011
Kew,
London (England)

AT LAST we have the pallets of Hitler’s War in our Indiana storehouse. They arrived from England a few days ago. The new page on my bookstore looks great.
Pity we can’t have the Dams book just beneath the
Hitler’s War splash.

I have posted a Radical’s Diary covering my foray into Yorkshire. I see that Rebecca
Sieff figures in my diary from August
27, 1997 until 1998. How time flies past!

Friday,
October 7, 2011
Kew,
London (England)

IT will be four to six weeks before the hospital gives me a date, if then. So it’s beginning to look like a mistake to have postponed the USA tour, as all this may well dawdle over well into the New Year. This ties in with a news item that the government is cancelling all sorts of operations, on the grounds of cost-cutting.

Well the main thing is
Dick Fuld got his big annual bonus (half a billion dollars), before skipping out of the smoking ruins of Lehman Bros and bringing down the world economy, I suppose.

A long frank chat with [an American friend] who has drawn a bead on a wealthy if mild-mannered Australian I.T. student. . .

I tell her of last night’s crime investigation programme about the handsome Indian Shrien
Dewani, who took his wife Anni, 28, on honeymoon to the Cape and had her rubbed out by hired hitmen that first night — because it turned out he was a covert homosexual, not really interested in women at all. He had wanted one as an accessory, then changed his mind.

Outwardly they had seemed the perfect couple: the wedding had cost £150,000: but he told his homo friends he felt trapped, and wanted out. The Indian had used a familiar chat-up line about not wanting to have sex until he was married: it baffled the victim’s more streetwise sister, and . . .

Oh well. I tell my beauteous friend: “If it’s unbalanced, self-centered, and unreliable advice you need in future, you know just where to come.”

Saturday,
October 8, 2011
Kew,
London (England)

A DISTURBED latter part of the night, as I begin reflecting on things. Albert emails from
Key West:

That
works for me. … I’m moving forward with
the renovation and I hope and believe you
will find the unit modest sized but hip/cool.
I’m looking forward with happiness to the
return of my friend and the wait-persons at
Harpoon Harry’s anticipate with different
emotions the return of The Scourge.

I have worked around ten hours on
Himmler predrafting today, exploiting the
Moscow files I have obtained, which will take several weeks more, I fear.

Sunday,
October 9, 2011
Kew,
London (England)

I BOUGHT a ticket to Baltimore-Washington for
November 12 some days ago, as I could not delay it longer while the hospital here dickers over a date. Cost just £400, paid this time by a generous British Airways of course. Been working on Himmler all morning, the Moscow files.
Excellent stuff. The first German pogrom operations against their Jews in June 1938. Not widely known.

Monday,
October 10, 2011
Kew,
London (England)

I TELL Indiana Jae: “You are no fun today. Go play with your Australian friend some more.”
“Define fun,” she says. I do.

—
noun to be found in funny, funicular, funnel,
funky, and (in rare cases to be avoided at
all costs), funeral. Will you pick me up at
BWI airport on November 12?

“Yes,” she replies, “of course I will pick you up.”
That’s nice. She’s indispensable.

After discussing financial planning I add a hint about life Down Under: “Watch out for
Australian cows (see helpful diagram left). They don’t moo, they say
oom.” But like most Hoosiers she does not respond well to English humour.

Tuesday,
October 11, 2011
Kew,
London – Melksham – Kew (England)

I AM at present ploughing through the
Heydrich agency’s files from Moscow. I have copied over 2,000 pages.

Wrote Himmler draft all morning — the sinister Verpflichtungserklärungen
of which I have found two more examples in the
Moscow files; I first saw a stray one in the
Berlin Document Center in 1989.

Oath
of secrecy unto death that guards at Operation
Reinhardt camps and Auschwitz had to
sign

I set out for Wiltshire at midday, via Eton, getting to our Melksham warehouse at four p.m. where I pick up another twenty boxes of
Hitler’s War. I could have carried forty
I now realize. On to John’s farmhouse in Dilton
Marsh — there are lights on in two rooms, but it is locked and deserted, the toolshed is locked, the chicken are gone, so are the sheep.
I hang around and ring the bell, but nobody comes. They are all out somewhere. But John is there in spirit.

Sunk in gloomy reminiscences of our now shrinking family I set out back to
London, doing eighty to ninety mph most of the way along the M4.

On the drive back from Wiltshire, about halfway, I feel a sudden tingle, and when I cough go dizzy for few seconds, so that I briefly consider pulling over or off at the next service area (but press on). From traffic fumes,
I suspect — like the April 1996 incident which led to pneumonia.

From Indiana comes a boast: “So now I have four active suitors. And there is also K. to consider. He has come out of the woodwork again recently, insisting that I should be his wife and provide him with twelve sons. And we know he earns well, too.”

I play that back with a straight bat: “K. is the kind of guy who will spend all his cash on a
Hitler walking stick and nothing on you. . . It is quite amusing to see all these second-raters pulling out their wallets.” Amusing, but annoying too. She is indispensable.

Wednesday,
October 12, 2011
Kew,
London (England)

A MILD sore throat. No hot water this morning, which does not please daughter
Jessica.

At one p.m. my lawyer phones from the courthouse in Germany, where the smaller of our claims against the German publisher is at this moment being heard by an arbitration judge (the other, major claim is to go to a full trial on the 19th). The publisher has steadfastly paid me no royalties for ten years while continuing to print and sell my books, knowing no doubt that I am legally outlawed from Germany. The court today decides I get the full amount claimed,
3,800 euros ($5,320).

Amazing that Arndt Verlag fought against paying so long and hard.

Thursday,
October 13, 2011
Kew,
London (England)

DISGRUNTLED. No transactions today, which does little to gruntle me.

Friday,
October 14, 2011
Kew,
London (England)

SO today Dr Liam Fox has finally resigned as Britain’s defence minister. His odd unofficial adviser and youthful boyfriend
Adam Werrity turns out to have been on the payroll of various sleazy defence contractors, murky pressure groups, and — guess what — the Israeli lobby. (“Boyfriend” is perhaps an unwarranted slur, as Fox did after all take a more orthodox wife recently, a woman: at which ceremony Werrity however officiated as best man.)

Let us now hope that the new defence minister
Hammond is an ever better man. Is it too late to reverse the personnel cuts in the armed forces? Have they no grasp of history, these men? Let them look up the Geddes Axe (1923) on
Google, and read about the devastating effect it had on young Royal Navy officers whose careers suddenly vanished — my father’s (right) included. But he was needed again, from 1939 to
1945.

I wonder if there is any connection between that Israeli money and Britain’s mysterious (and costly) complicity in the illegal attack on
Libya this summer, of which David Cameron
is still unaccountably so proud: His own
“Tony-Blair” moment of lethal criminality. I have always wondered how impoverished governments suddenly find the money to fight wars.

‘To protect Libyan civilians,” was the pretext this time. I wonder how many peaceful
Libyan civilians are mourning this kind of protection? Is Libya now a NATO
Protektorat?

With Fox gone, perhaps Iran can breathe a bit more easily, with less likelihood of a pre-emptive strike on some spurious “they were planning to kill an ambassador” pretext. (That, for the naïve, is a reference to this week’s Saudi Arabian fantasy dreamed up by the
CIA, seemingly lifted straight out of the
Inventing a Casus Belli for Dummies
handbook first published by Franz Eher Verlag
Nachf. in 1938.)

If that does not ring a bell, perhaps journalists, after they have checked on the
Geddes Axe, will Google the names Ernst
Eisenlohr and Fall Grün. And search “Crichel Down” while they are about it —
which became the benchmark for standards of
Ministerial integrity when I was young (1954). A few years before Liam Fox was born, of course.

From three p.m. I start work on reconstructing the main text of Goebbels
for our reprint — a vast labour-intensive job.
The OCR scan of the book which I commissioned from Delhi is very defective.

FRIENDLY chat with B. during the evening; sounds much improved. At least she does not sleep with a thrumming, gale-throwing Electric Fan at her side the way some blonde beauties do. They all have their harmless foibles; but as a general rule-of-thumb, the weirder the foible, the more worthwhile the female.

I know of at least one such Fan which got carried to Paris, Madrid,
Cadiz, Barcelona, and a host of other puzzled locations. I have fans too, but of a different kind.

They have their complaints about men too — I met a girl twenty years ago whose (ex-) husband had circled the marital bed with hundreds of polished empty jamjars on the floor, apparently a well-known side-symptom of obsessive compulsive disorder. I told her that there is medication against that now, but she had decided to leave him anyway.

Saturday,
October 15, 2011
Kew,
London (England)

I
POST the AFP’s advert for my Washington DC talk on the website. I very nearly reveal the location … then realize just in time that it is confidential
Reconstructing Goebbels will be the late-afternoon job throughout this month, a time when my brain’s clockwork runs down.

[Previous
Radical’s
Diary]

Our
Index on the origins of
anti-Semitism

Jaenelle Antas:
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Was
Mossad using Fox and Werritty as ‘useful
idiots’?

Ex-Ambassador reveals how links made
by ‘advisers’ set alarm bells
ringing

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