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BRAVEPetition: Change all references of "shitposting" to "funposting" (self.ShitWehraboosSay)

Wikkoehitler is up to no good が 3日前 * 投稿

We humble funposters work hard to earn our keep, and deserve much better than this demeaning title. We are merely tragically misunderstood bringers of mirth.

Just kidding, this is actually my thread on the book "Too Young to be a Hero" by Rick Holz. Like I said, I've been thinking about making a post about it. And here it is. It isn't quite Wehraboo, as it's written by someone who was actually in the Wehrmacht, but it has many trappings of such "thinking." For now I'm going to do the preface and chapter one. Depending on interest, I'll either continue my way through, or just take notes as I re-read it and do a bit of a full "book report" for you, depending on what is more convenient.

Without further aboo, here we go.

I had no say in it all.

These are seriously the opening words of the book. No joke.

I prefer to believe that I was a product of my parents' love

I admit that I used to be what one might call a perfect, two-legged, double-jointed, pig-headed example of a Heil Hitler-screaming German son of a bitch.

Well, okay. I'm cheating. I yanked something from further down the page and squished it up to the top. Although I find it interesting that he finds he has two legs to be noteworthy. I forget if he is referring to any future battlefield maiming that happens to occur.

I had aspirations of being... a hero like my father.

Mein opa-ing (well, mein vater-ing) isn't just for Redditors, folks!

On the very day I realized that I was fighting for my own life instead of dying in a blaze of glory for my beloved Vaterland, my Fatherland, I volunteered for immediate discharge from the army. I would have walked all the way on my homes, but they wouldn't accept my resignation.

Fun fact: This guy's career spans from like 1941 to the end of the war. So, guess his fate. He wants out so much. Does he escape, surrender, try to defect? To memory, he does try to make a run for it... right at the end of the war, when the outcome was just about assured. But sssh, no more spoilers. Unless if they're fun ones.

Caught together, hanged together. I didn't mind being caught so much. It was the hanging bit that didn't appeal to me.

Okay, one more. This guy spends most of his service on the Eastern Front. I wonder how many hangings of ~~citizens~~ ~~partisans~~ ~~terrorists~~ godless bloodthirsty red terrorists he saw? Hell, maybe he strung up a few himself.

I keep telling myself that I should have kept a diary, a kind of gloom-and-doom account.

This is a big part of what I meant by his account seeming, in layman's terms, heaps fucked. No idea when this was written, but it was first published in 2000. So it's written based off of his memories about 50 years on.

My story is not about the rise and fall of the Third Reich. My story is about me. I am neither famous nor infamous, neither a dazzling success nor a dismal failure. I am gentle and I am rough. I am cunning and I am gullible. I am some of the things one wants to be, and some of the things one abhors.

I am Darkwing Duck.

I am a plain and ordinary human being who was too young to be a hero.

I'm sorry, let's get that snippet from a bit ago again:

I admit that I used to be what one might call a perfect, two-legged, double-jointed, pig-headed example of a Heil Hitler-screaming German son of a bitch.

I am the shy, polite guy from next door, the quiet fellow who you can't quite figure out

N I C E G U Y S

I believe strongly that winners as well as losers are hapless victims.

Oh those poor Germans!

After some sappy stuff about how he's at peace and he prays to God for peace, peace peace, peace for his grandchildren and his children and all the people, peace for everyone and everything, that's the end of the intro.

I am still convinced that my mother picked the wrong time of the year to bring me into the world.

I'd say the wrong decade or even century sounds more accurate.

In summary, he spends the next few paragraphs describing how, surprisingly, he was born. Not dredged out of the Earth like some Uruk-Hai supersoldier by Saruman's minions. Fancy that. Oh, and his dad was a millionaire. Billions of marks per week. He was employed by the local gas company and made a fortune by reading the meters.

And that's the truth.

Oh and then the Great Depression roflpwns his daddy's riches. Whoops.

Then he talks a whole lot about how

By some inexplicable miracle

He becomes a Protestant.

Maybe I should have been born a Catholic, a Muslim, a Jew, or even Jehovah's Witness.

A Jew, or even Jehovah's Witness

Boy howdy that would've worked out well for him, huh?

Anyway, I'm getting far too ahead of myself

I agree.

Yadda yadda sister was a bitch, he played doctor with some blonde haired blue eyed waifu babe, etc. Might just skip ahead. In fact, I will. I cannot believe this nonsense about Germans having families or sexual encounters. They're produced in bulk in some munitions factory, I tell you.

Mutti and Papa took us to church again, so that I would emulate my peers and grow into a God-fearing, honest and decent German

Well fucking hell did that fail.

Skip, skip, skip. His dad dies.

I'd never again listen curiously to his fascinating stories about the Great War and the tales about the Kaiser's heroes who, just like my father, had fought many great and victorious battles in France and for his beloved Deutschland. Perhaps, quite innocently, he ignited the blazing torch of undying patriotism within my receptive mind.

Ah.

I hated my mother for taking me to the funeral. Funerals make death appallingly final. A little boy, six years of age, should not have to suffer the horror of parading past an open coffin.

And little boys shouldn't have to suffer the horror of their fathers, brothers, mothers and sisters being incinerated in their homes, lining mass graves, being hung, being gassed, being worked to death, so on and so forth. But hey, at least you tried to escape and have nothing more to do with it. When all of this stuff had already happened.

And that's chapter one. And here's the opening of chapter two.

Heil Hitler, Mutti! Heil Hitler, Lieselotte [His sister]! Heil Hitler, Deutschland! Sieg Heil, mein Fuhrer!

Well that escalated considerably.

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[–]Wikkoehitler is up to no good[S] 21ポイント22ポイント23ポイント 3日前* (30子コメント)

Chapter Two, Part One

Oh, those were great and adventurous times for a thirteen-year-old boy with three wonderful, proud years of Jungvolk training already under his belt.

What an innocent, free-spirited lad. I think we could all do with a bit of his enthusiasm in our lives.

Soon, on my fourteenth birthday, I would be old enough to be transferred into the ranks of the Hitlerjugend. Dressed in my brown shirt and black shorts, I was ready to conquer the world. You could bet your bottom Reichsmark on that.

The Wehraboo kiddo spies enviously watching the fun we have on this sub are probably stroking themselves skinless to imagining themselves in this guy's place. Too young to be a hero, but apparently not too young to be in the Hitler Youth and fucking loving it. Also,

Ready to conquer the world

Snicker snicker.

Nobody had to tell me that Germany was the greatest country on earth. I knew that already.

GOD'S KINGDOM REALIZED IN PHYSICALITY.

My beloved Adolf Hitler had appeared from heaven like a merciful angel and, with wisdom, swiftness, and efficiency, had changed our Vaterland almost overnight. If a man had ever performed miracles, our Fuhrer was that man. He'd brought smiles back onto the faces of our people. He'd chased the shadows of economic depression into oblivion and he'd put honest and well-earned money back into the wallets of the working men. Factories, houses, whole suburbs were sprouting like mushrooms after a thunderstorm.

I think you're starting to see exactly what I meant. I mean, if you changed the perspective of the above paragraph, it could've just as easily been something written by someone featured on this sub.

This obviously isn't all of chapter 2, but consider it an extended teaser.

[–]Wikkoehitler is up to no good[S] 19ポイント20ポイント21ポイント 3日前* (26子コメント)

Chapter Two, Part Two

My heart went out to the English and the French and all other foreigners who were not fortunate enough to be German, strangers who could not take part in the miracle that raised my Vaterland from the dust and sludge of despair and the doldrum of stagnation.

From now on, I want you to have this and the rest of this chapter in mind when people say "Not all Wehrmacht were Nazis." They might not have been Nazis through party membership, but remember that the Hitlerjugend and similar were all compulsory since 1935. A massive amount of the people of fighting age would've gone through this same mill of indoctrination that our protagonist here has gone through in his youth. The education system was also politicized in such a manner. Most weren't Nazis through party membership, but certainly through what was stuffed into their heads. Anyway, I digress. Back to fun!

I wanted to invite all the boys from all over the world to come and march with me through the streets of Prenzlau, singing songs like 'Our flag leads the way; our flag is the new era...' with vibrant, joyful voices and hearts filled with gratitude and pride.

If only it was a few years later, so they could be singing classics like Hitler Takes France (I am so fucking sorry /u/somenbjorn )

Our sleepy country town had risen from a long, bad dream

yes now the nightmare has crossed over into reality :)))))))))))

The sugar mill was working full steam again

HITLER BROUGHT BACK THE SUGAR MILLS. GREATEST STATESMAN OF THE 20TH-- NO, ALL CENTURIES!

And all those antisocial stragglers who refused to work were drafted into the newly formed National Labour service

Uh. Yes, that's where they went. Sure.

Mein Fuhrer was a true genius

I remember this thread on (reddit board of your choice here)!

Joy to the world, our saviour Adolf Hitler was born!

Remember, those who went into the Wehrmacht were completely non-ideological and they never liked that Hitler guy : ^ )

Heil Hitler and Sieg Heil! Down with the communists and the capitalists, whoever and wherever and whatever they were

I'm sorry, but this chapter is way more dank than I remembered. I shall be taking another short break. I fear for my health.

[–]Wikkoehitler is up to no good[S] 18ポイント19ポイント20ポイント 3日前* (21子コメント)

Chapter Two, Part Three

Okay, all in. I promise this post will be longer than the other two on chapter two so far.

I was wrapped from head to toe in the Jungvolk, Hitler's youth movement. The coyness and the shyness, which had been so much a part of my psychological make-up as far back as I could remember, gave way to brashness and cockiness.

Quick aside. This is what the author looks like. This fucking dweeb who looks like even Himmler would beat him up for his lunch money. Why am I making particular note of this? To tie this picture and paragraph into the present day, because it reminds me of modern neo-Nazis. For instance, take this edgy dork who showed up at a vigil held for the victims of the Orlando shooting. Just look at this smug cunt. Given he's a pasty nerd, he was probably "coy" and "shy", and here comes the "brashness" and "cockiness." Ideologies do terrible things to losers. But I digress.

Anyway, our present dork of concern spends several paragraphs about how mommy was mean and spanked him a lot, or even, fuck no bro, gave him time out time in the corner.

Making me stand in a corner, facing the wall for hours on end.

But don't worry, our kiddo finds a way out of this horrific torture!

I asked my Scharfuhrer, the leader of our patriotic group of thirty, what a good German boy should do if he suspected his parents of being Communists. 'Just curious,' I said.

This is going exactly where you think it's going.

'Denounce them, of course,' the 20-year-old Scharfuhrer told me. 'Denounce them and let them burn in hell.'

From then on my mother lost control over me completely.

Yet another fantasy of many wehraboo children today, I'm sure.

Every time she belted me or violated me in any other way, I smiled defiantly and felt no pain. 'If I want to, I can destroy you,' I said to myself over and over again. 'Perhaps tomorrow I'll use my power and have you stand in a corner, facing the wall. Heil Hitler to you.'

Too Young to be a Hero, Too Much of a Dick to Keep His Good Boy Points.

Sometimes mutti was almost human. Like the day she gave me my one and only sex education lesson. 'Sex is a sin unless you're married'... 'And if you play with yourself, you'll go blind.

HERE IT COMES

Well, Mutti, I can let you into a secret now. Only the weekend before you talked to me about the facts of life, I formed a big circle with ten of my friends under that huge old chestnut tree at the far end of the park. We all wore our uniforms. And we opened the flies of our black shorts and masturbated like hell. And I came first and scored ten cigarettes for my effort. And I didn't go blind at all.

ONE EJACULATION = TEN CIGARETTES. God I'm sorry for exposing you all to this shit. But remember, there's neo-Nazis and salt-righters who look back on Nazi Germany as super duper clean, upright, non-degenerate, nothing gross but our gross germania-ia.

Anyway, moving on. Moving right along.

I was convinced I could not only fill my father's shoes, I could fill anything I wanted to fill

Fill anything I wanted to fill

Don't fucking use those words only so many paragraphs after -that- anecdote. Christ.

Come to think of it, I'm really glad that I broke into the locked drawer of the china cabinet in the lounge room and stole all that rent money you'd tried to hide from me. You know what I did with it, Mutti? I took it all to the fowl yard at the back of our garden. And I lit a bonfire with all those bank notes and I chanted: 'I hate you. I hate you. Dear little innocent mother, I hate you!'

WELP

Helga [his 3DPD waifu] had her problems too. Her father hated to see her dressed in the white blouse and blue skirt of the BDM, the pretty and becoming uniform of the League of German Girls. Apparently he, as a Baptist preacher, had no time for our beloved Fuhrer at all. No matter how much Helga tried, she couldn't convince him that he should pray to the Fuhrer instead of wasting his time on God.

Well here you have it, further proof that even back in the day Nazis were a bunch of edgy cunts, if you even needed it.

'Your Papa would turn in his grave if he could see you parade around in that silly uniform of yours,' she [His mother] would tell me every now and then. 'Your Fuhrer isn't even a German. How can you idolise a foreigner who knows nothing about us? You might as well have Napoleon running the country. Hitler is up to no good.'

Hitler is up to no good.

Hitler is up to no good.

HITLER IS UP TO NO GOOD

New flair found.

[–]Wikkoehitler is up to no good[S] 14ポイント15ポイント16ポイント 3日前* (11子コメント)

Chapter Two, Part Four

Okay, now that I've got my amusement at that last line out of my system, and also the idea of HITLER IS A FUCKING FOREIGNER REEEEEEEE out with it, it's time to continue! Not one step back!

'I'll denounce you to the Gestapo if you keep talking like that', I'd threaten her. 'Fancy my own mother being an enemy of the Third Reich. Papa would be ashamed of you, that's for sure.' I was convinced my dead hero, my Papa, was on my side.

Remember when this guy put himself in such angelic, innocent terms right at the start? Yeah. Naw. REEEE MUM THINKS MY UNIFORM IS STUPID AND HATES HITLER-SENPAI REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Ahem.

Who, I ask you, who in our peaceful town could have possibly imagined that a mere eight years later, the clean, transparent water of our lake would turn red with the blood of innocent children, women, grandfathers, grandmothers, and all the others who hadn't qualified for service in the Wehrmacht and gone off to the war?

Oh me oh my here it comes

In the spring of 1945, when the Russian war machine came to swallow up our town, which was over eight hundred years old, most of the inhabitants fled to the shores of the lake, seeking open spaces rather than the prospect of being buried under the rubble of their homes. It was a sensible choice that proved to be fatal for many.

Hi I fought on the Eastern Front, but let me tell y'all about how dang mean those Russians were when they came to pay us a visit. What the hell, man? Did we torch thousands of villages and shell their cities into rubble or something? Fucking Russian war machines, I swear. Who could have possibly anticipated that bad things happen to you when your war of extermination and conquest fails?

As they celebrated the end of the war, they uncorked bottles of homemade red currant wine and thanked the Lord for their survival. And when the Russian artillery opened fire from the opposite shores of the lake, the revellers died with a song on their lips as the shells exploded among them and tore their flesh to shreds.

Even if this truly, factually, 100% happened, gee, I can't possibly imagine why the Russians might have been feeling a tad bit vengeful. Forget the Siege of Leningrad, forget all of the cities vaporized, forget everything, THIS was the real atrocity of WW2.

I remember once reading an account of a Russian officer addressing a bunch of Germans captured after Stalingrad. He gestured to the ruins around him and said something to the effect of, "You see this? This is what we'll do to Berlin one day." But yes.

Perhaps it was just as well that I couldn't gaze into the future. Besides, I was too busy shouting 'Heil Hitler'. Too busy trying to be a good German in those great days.

It's a shame that "in those great days" being a good German was seemingly entirely mutually exclusive from being a good person.

To summarize the next few pages, a doctor named Rosenbaum is disappeared, his mum is quite understandably distressed about this, and he is a massive cunt and like "DON'T LIE YOU FUCKING COMMIE REEEEEEEEEE" and she is like "But the're doing the same to the gypsies." And just when you think that maybe she was a good person,

At least we can keep the clothes on the line now, with that thieving lot gone. Good riddance!

Being a total fuckhead is genetic, apparently.

Meanwhile, fuckhead jr. is all like,

I loved the happy gypsies. I'd found refuge, kindness, and all the cuddles I needed whenever Mutti punished me for something I didn't do. My gypsies always made me smile when I was down. Many a time they had to drag me all the way back to our front door because I wanted to spend the rest of my life with them. I wanted them to initiate me into the same life of joy they lived, where ever they were.

well gee mister i'm sure you would've heard at least a tiny bit about this when being blasted by propaganda about how fucking everyone but germans suck but you were too busy thinking your uniform is neat and literally circle jerking in said uniforms

Two days later, when I came face to face with my Scharfuhrer from the Hitlerjugend, I grabbed the opportunity and asked him about the sudden disappearance of the gypsies.

I am still struggling to believe this mystery eluded him as much as he lets on, but okay.

'I don't know why you're interested in bastards like that,' he said. I hope they hang them from the trees instead of wasting a bullet on them. There's no room for riffraff like that in the Third Reich, that's for sure.'

And what does Dorkiddo have to say to this? Does he slog him one? Does he defend his gyspy friends he just gushed so much about? Does he question why he's here and how he can get out of this place (if it's the last thing he ever do)?

Heil Hitler, Herr Scharfuhrer,' I said, hiding my true feelings behind a smug grin. 'To hell with the gypsies and all the other enemies of the Third Reich.'

[–]Wikkoehitler is up to no good[S] 12ポイント13ポイント14ポイント 2日前* (10子コメント)

Chapter Two, Part Five

I think this may be the last one for the night, as it's nearly 2 AM and I like to maintain roughly normal sleeping patterns. Conveniently chapter two should be wrapped up within this post.

How can you do your wee-wees without a doodle?

'I'll show you,' she grinned. And she did.

Oh, whoops. This was something I must've skipped over in the last chapter. This is around when he's introducing his waifu, Helga, to us. Charming lass, truly.

Propaganda is a very subtle tool of deception.

I mean I think Nazi propaganda, perhaps with super rad hindsight hacks, was some of the fucking least subtle propaganda ever devised, but carry on.

It gets at you slowly and inconspicuously.

It seemed pretty fucking rapid in your case.

And if you happen to open your mind just a fraction, you've lost the battle long before you take up arms to fight it.

What the hell did I know about propaganda?

What did I know about politics?

Presumably a lot of what the Nazis were and what they were about, given Nazi politics would've been drilled into your head fucking perpetually, no matter where it was facing. Even if you were giving your friends non-degenerate aryan blowjobs behind the tree.

Wasn't it much more credible to sing hymns of praise to Adolf Hitler, the man whose strong, resonant voice I could listen to on the radio, whose image I could see on the cinema screen in magnificent magnitude, than to worship someone, something way up in the sky, some mythical figure which, mostly likely, wasn't even of Aryan descent? If God really existed, would He have taken my father away from me when I needed him more than anything else, and left me stuck with a mother who couldn't or wouldn't let me love her the way I wanted to?

While transcribing this, I was thinking of many cheeky things, but I rapidly lost those words as it just escalated and escalated. All I have to say on that paragraph by the end is: HOLY FUCKING SHIT

And also,

WEW

FUCKMOTHERING

LAD

Then we've got a few paragraphs where he rants and raves like your typical "Oh but I tried Christianity, but it didn't work for me God isn't real" atheist edgewank where people treat God as being some fucking ATM for miracles. I'm an atheist myself, but I still find that mentality absolutely infuriating. Abridged version:

We formed a plan

What more Christian a thing could we do than help those who were very much beyond helping themselves?

At an arranged time we'd meet after each foray just outside the slum area, march in together and play Santa Claus to the children of drunks and derelicts

Of course, our benevolent deeds of Christianity didn't' get us any points of merit from God, but they did get us a dishonourable mention in the local paper and a firm promise from our school principal that all of us would be expelled if we ever try to indulge in committing Christianity again.

Getting expelled! Wow, that's, like, way worse than what would happen if you were to commit Judaism!

It would have been nice if Dr. Rosenbaum had come back from his holiday trip or whatever he'd gone on. He'd helped my mother bring me into this world

Speaking of what happens when you commit Judaism.

Some of their shops were still open, though always empty. It just wasn't proper, it was outright unpatriotic, to buy anything from a Jew

wew lad

By now, my friend

I'm not your friend, guy.

You might be thoroughly disgusted with some of the things I've been telling you.

I am.

But I set out to tell the truth, and that's what I'm doing. I was a well-indoctrinated ltitle bastard. I make no excuses and no apologies for that.

yes tell the truth about how you had no idea that people were disappearing while threatening to make people disappear while having a bad feeling about people disappearing while thinking they've just gone on holidays. i can't handle all this truth you're dispensing.

If you'd been in my place, maybe you wouldn't have been quite as gullible, but neither you nor I know that, do we?

Oh fuck off.

I didn't really understand what this business with the Jews was all about.

OH FUCK OFF.

But I felt my Fuhrer, my teachers and my superiors in the Hitlerjugend were much better informed than my mother who, in my opinion, had lost all touch with reality.

ok so the guy who is treating hitler as like some simultaneous god figure and surrogate father figure is the one that never lost touch with reality.

If Jews and Communists were a threat to the Third Reich, then I for one wanted nothing to do with them

ok so you had no idea what the problem with the jews were but you knew they were a problem to the third reich, who were consequently dealing with them under this belief that they were a problem.

The Jews who were still living in Prenzlau now wore the Judenstern, the Star of Israel, with the word 'Jude' on it. But even before they had to wear the identification tag I never had any difficulty picking out a Jewish kid in a crowd. Jews ate garlic. The rest of us in ou rtown hated garlic.

TIL that eating garlic is an innately, definitively Jewish trait.

The only two people I'd hated so far were my mother and my sister. Oh yes, there was someone else, my French teacher, who all the kids suspected to be a Communist. Now phrases such as 'Don't worry about him, he is only a Jew' came rolling across my lips without a second thought.'

so you didn't know what was up with the commies and jews but you did know what was up with the commies and jews U:

There was no time for any of us to reflect on happenings in the past. Events, much bigger than a synagogue on fire on Kristallnacht, the Night of Broken Glass, were already in the making.

As 1939 approached, Germany rejoiced in an avalanche of success. Our beloved Furher was making huge inroads towards the creation of a United States of Europe under his command and at his feet

N-NO. DEFENDING THE FATHERLAND. HITLER DIDN'T WANT TO CONQUER EUROPE. RICK WHAT ARE YOU DOING! YOU'RE BETRAYING THE NARRATIVE!

Our history teacher was jubilant and said, over and over again: 'We are making history! The East was German, and the East shall be German again!'

Our borders began to expand to the east, the south, and the west without a single angry shot being fired. We were pushed from high to high by a mountainous wave of euphoria. Weekend after weekend I joined the queues at the movie theatre, but not to watch Tom Mix slaughter hordes of wild Red Indians

RED INDIAN HORDES

We had our eyes glued to the silver screen watching the flag of the Thousand Year Reich rise over Sudetenland, Memelland, Saarland, Austria. The sky was the limit. And all the lost pigeons came home to roost. All the land that had been stolen from us was German once again. For the first time since 1918, our national anthem told the truth... The Thousand Year Reich was well on its way. We were growing; we were strong; we were invincible. And I, together with millions of proud Germans, said 'Heil Hitler' instead of 'Amen'.

so after complaining the soviets blew up his village, he writes all this and he doesn't seem to click the two together as "oh maybe we were being massive dicks or something"

The Jews had now almost vanished from the streets. Those who ventured out walked with their eyes fixed on the ground, stooped and frightened. To hell with them, I thought. If they still opposed the upward surge of our new Reich, they should do what the many slogans, painted in huge latters on countless walls, told them to do: 'Juden Raus!'

I think this will be all for now. Just a tiny bit more of chapter two to go for tomorrow, and then we segue into chapter three fully. Invasion of Poland is up next.

[–]Wikkoehitler is up to no good[S] 11ポイント12ポイント13ポイント 2日前* (9子コメント)

Chapter Two, End of Chapter

And we're back! Post theme

What would I do once I'd finished my education, I wondered. I might join the army; or perhaps the navy, so as to get as far away as humanly possible.

Oh don't worry, you'll be going far, far, far away on foot, truck and rail by the time this is through. Spoilers: He ends up fighting on the Eastern Front, Italian Front -and- the Western Front. Besides, the navy gets beaten on for being a bunch of seaborne homosexuals enough without this serial circle jerker aboard.

I was absolutely wrapped in the Hitlerjugend. I was sure that I would enjoy the army life.

Just think of all the new boys to jerk it with, gathered from all over Germany! Oh my!

During the summer break I went to a Hitlerjugend camp together with three thousand proud boys. We lived in tents, played war games, attended lectures every day, competed in a lot of physical contests and sat around the camp fires at night, dreaming of our Thousand Year Reich

the jokes about the physical contests and dreaming about the thousand year reich entailing even more masturbation pretty much write themselves so i'm just going to continue on.

From the third day onwards we were taught how to handle a small-bore rifle, and hwo to aim at cardboard cut-outs of enemy soldiers which popped up from among trees. 'Got you, you Communist bastard!' I'd shout with unbridled enthusiasm. I thought about my Papa and all the Frenchmen he'd killed. I wanted him to watch me and be proud of me as I aimed and hit target after target. 'Bang, you're dead! Bang, your'e dead!' How am I doing, Papa? Who says that I'm too scared to be a soldier? Watch me, Papa!

Y'know, I think Somenbjorn was really onto something with his post. This guy has some extreme issues with his dad.

On the first day of September 1939 the sun rose in the east, just as it did on any other day.

that is until the german nation attacked. the sun promptly keeled over and died, never to be seen again, until stalin's secular materialist wizards used the dark magic of dialectics to resurrect it and saved the day in 1945. germans, being cave dwelling rodents, were repelled by the radiance of the glorious communist sun.

And our mighty army marched into Poland

But let's not get ahead of ourselves. We've got some DEFENDING THE FATHERLAND to do before we get to Stalin's inevitable triumph.

During the first eighteen days of September the first soldiers of my home town died a hero's death on foreign soil, died to defend the freedom of our Third Reich.

What freedom? The freedom to invade other nations and slaughter them en masse with no real justification?

And the multicolored flowers, which had flourished in the green wooden boxes on the balconies, died with them.

The deaths of flowers literally occupy more of this guy's concern than the death of Polish soldiers and civilians.

The army band played the Radetzki March and I was fiercely proud of being German.

See what I mean? Also, why were they playing a song specifically commissioned to commemorate an Austrian's victory over the Sardinians to celebrate their victory over Poland? Are Poles Sardinians now? What?

With my blood still running hot from excitement, I went to the recruiting office

IT BEGINS

I felt strange among the older men

I don't think he ever specifies how young he actually was, come on, man, it's not 1945 yet. It's not the Volkssturm. Surely not all of them were old codgers. I imagine most of them were brainwashed kiddos just like him.

After all, wasn't I volunteering to be a hero?

TOP. KEK.

I was proud of my heritage. I adored my fuhrer. Did I need any other qualities to stand up and fight for my country?

nope, sorry kiddo, you're too young to be a hero. you said it right there, on the front of the book.

So basically with his mum cussing him out for being a dingus and reiterating that the Fuhrer is a fucking doofus, he gets mad at her.

I almost called her a bitch.

But it had taken me all of my courage to stand in line at the recruiting office; I didn't have enough strength to stand up for myself. I wanted to tell her that I was sick of being treated like a nincompoop, but the words got stuck in my throat.

This book is like the most precise demonstration of what it'd be like if the Wehraboo kiddos were transported back in time and got to fulfill their dreams of fighting for the Reich.

Oh and he got rejected by the recruiting office because not old enough to die yet and has to come back in three years. So, like I said, just in time for the war in Russia. Yaaaaay. Anyway, that's chapter 2.

[–]Wikkoehitler is up to no good[S] 9ポイント10ポイント11ポイント 2日前 (8子コメント)

Chapter Three, Part One

Honestly I'm considering speeding through the next two chapters as much as possible, just because it's really kinda just more of the same for a fair while. Just "I am happy jovial German lad wew lad Hitler omg cum inside me Fuhrer-senpai I am going to be the biggest soldier man when I grow up."

But anyway.

Lots of stuff I find frankly uninteresting about his family life. Sister meets a dude who gets sent off, mutti meets a mechanic, now he's got a step-father he calls Frederik the Great because he supposedly resembles this man and is named Frederik. Encountering people that resemble German monarchs is, oddly, a recurrent theme of this book. I believe he later meets a man who looks like Kaiser Wilhelm II who gives him a bundt cake. I wish I knew a Kaiser Wilhelm II that gave me bundt cake. I'd say it's one of the several surreal "He's just making this up, isn't he?" aspects of the book.

But, of course, Rick the fucking dick has to go and be a dingus yet again.

'Your marrying my mother has nothing to do with me. If she wants to marry you, that's her business. It's no skin off my nose. I'll be joining the army soon. Maybe it's a good thing to know, that Mutti won't be left all by herself.'

my stepfather-to-be gave me a friendly slap on the shoulder and smiled. 'That's the spirit, son. You'll see, I'll be a good father to you.'

You might be like, "Well, what's wrong there? Frederik seems like a cool guy, and Rick seems to be taking it well." It doesn't last. Not at fucking all.

At first I thought I'd misunderstood him. Had he really called me son? He shouldn't have. He had no right to call me 'son'.

He had caused irreparable damage.

No man was good enough to emulate my father. No one could fill his shoes. Nobody could ever take his place.

'Fuck him,' I said to myself.

I had Adolf Hitler for my God and my Papa for my hero, and no other man could push his way into my heart.

I cried myself to sleep that night.

Welp.

I was dying to get into the army.

This is actually a genius line tbh. Although I don't think he meant it in a tongue-in-cheek way, given how much of a moody dink he is.

Doop doop doo lots of stuff about how he was never violent but here he was yearning for violence oh me oh my. Never had any first fights, but here he was, wanting to kill Russians. Speeches of Josef Goebbels give him a stiffy (Well okay, I'm exaggerating that one).

Thank the Lord the war wasn't quite over yet. I still had a slight chance of dying a hero's death and doing my father proud.

A note on his actual death. To memory he just kinda died of old age in Australia somewhere. Tasmania, I think. Or "Kaisermania", as it was called in this WW1 propaganda poster. I love how they have capital city names changed for everything else, but apparently they couldn't think of a really good one for Hobart. Also, Darwin don't real. But I'm really off-track here. I just love the name Kaisermania. Can you blame me?

Our victorious troops had brought my father's arch foes to their knees. France, the land of Napoleon the Great, had been absolutely trounced in a most remarkable six-week battle. Serves you right, you Frog bastards! You shouldn't have declared war on Germany. Didn't you know our Thousand Year Reich is invincible? Now you know, don't you!

Anyway, that's just about it. Should be able to squeeze at least one more part out of Chapter Three, and then things kick off for realsies as he actually gets into the army.

[–]Wikkoehitler is up to no good[S] 11ポイント12ポイント13ポイント 2日前* (4子コメント)

Chapter III/IV Ausf. A

Fredik the Great got hitched to my mother in a private function at the registrar's office.

How romantic!

The unsentimental ceremony meant nothing more to me than Frederik's not having to sneak into Mutt's bed for a cuddle any more when he thought I was asleep.

I felt sad because I couldn't even remember the last time I'd slipped into Mutti's bed and snuggled up to her. Gee, I would have really liked that.

For additional context, the dude's like 17 or 18 around this part of his memoir.

I mean, maybe it's not weird to sleep with your mother at that age in other cultures beyond my own or something. But it still seems weird to yearn for that.

I wished for more than anything that... my Fuhrer would not invade England before I was allowed to prove myself to him and my papa

Well he must've been pretty relieved by how historical events turned out, eh? Also, not wishing for him to avoid invading England for any humanitarian reason, simply so he has more time to get more warrior cred. And yet it's such a horror when the Soviets come and repay this bloodshed.

Nazi Germany's seeming fixation on MUH MARTIAL VALOUR makes zero sense, I swear. its honorable and glorious for us to attack you, but don't attack us back you disgusting subhumans.

And for Helga to agree that our platonic relationship needed urgent progress towards a joint orgasm.

What a wonderfully robotic way to describe fucking. INITIATE INTIMATE EXCHANGE OF BODILY FLUIDS, SUCH AS GAMETES.

I got thoroughly sick of fantasising and dreaming of her with each climax I gave myself

It's not gay if you're thinking of a girl as you jerk off with your bros. Germany was 20 years ahead of the Allies with no-homo shielding technology.

I thought, many times, that it was stupid for me to waste my precious sperm the way I did. Helga and I would make beautiful aryan children together in times to come

Well hey, at least you're getting rewarded with cigarettes for your efforts?

now to be a jerk and do that jarring contrast thing i like to do

Next to Hitler and my father, she was the most important person in my life. I oved her with all my heart, and all my body ached for her.

Girls, girls, girls, flippant and flitting, flurrying and fluttering like a flock of swallows. Oh, dear Jesus, I thought, wouldn't I like to get my hands under one of those frilly, starched dresses in soft pastel colours. There they were, all lined up against the opposite wall of the dance hall like sparrows on a power line, each of them looking irresistibly delectable. Help, Helga! Help!

welp.

also,

Like a flock of swallows

Like sparrows on a power line

TIL rick holz wants to fuck birds

Next few paragraphs are, to me, unremarkable. Dancing, dancing. Describes his dick as

My little member of Parliament Which Stood up in all his glory, straining to make a statement.

He instead dances with some other girl called Brigitte. Dance, dance, flirt, kiss, they head off to a park to be alone, oh my, feeling shame about tongue kissing her despite previously jerking off with a mass of dudes, etc. Also he accidentally cums himself before they can fuck. Brigitte laughs at him and leaves. Yep. We've found proto-/r9k/.

Brigitte turns away in disgust and complains: 'What a waste. What a bloody waste!' She leaves me standing there, wet pants and all, and her laughter echoes through the trees of the park. I am quite convinced that I am the greatest fool on God's earth.

Welp. Skipping right out of that situation.

Christmas 1940 came much too early.

And so did you : ^ )

The church bells pealed. I didn't know whether to walk with God or to march with my Fuehrer, Adolf Hitler. I knew Hitler. I'd witnessed many miracles he'd performed. Germany was prospering. Germany was conquering the world!

This has just reminded me of how there's people trying to get Stalin canonized as a saint, I believe citing his victories at Leningrad, Moscow and Stalingrad as his prerequisite three miracles.

Lots of edgy fedoraism about how Hitler was closer to a real God than God was, Hitler was making Germany mighty and cool, etc. etc. I can't imagine how he'd feel several years later.

Heil Hitler to You, you old legend up in the sky that was supposed to be heaven.

During a Christmas service, he says "Heil Hitler" instead of "Amen" before his pastor. He then cries and whines about how no one held his hand as they sang together on Christmas. Mutti and Frederik held hands, his sister and her boy held hands. He shrank away into the

Dark passageway that was my bedroom, with a handful of ginger nuts

And cried.

Chapter 4.

Chapter 4 opens with this exceedingly edgy, hamfisted poem, which I can only pray was not his work:

Roses are red, violets are blue.

If you don't kill the Russians,

The Russians kill you!

Sigh.

After that initial punch in the gut, he's got a second blow heading right in for the testicles.

Hurrah! Hurrah! Heil Hitler and Sieg Heil, all rolled into one!

God. Fucking stop. Please.

After weeks and weeks of worrying about failing my medical examination, the mailman came to deliver my yearned-for call-up notice. There was no prouder man in the town than me, Ollie Weiss, a hero in the making.

Oh golly!

The fact that I'd be the first of my old school class to wear the traditional grey cloth of the Wehrmacht made me feel extra special.

Is it fair to refer to the garb of an organization that technically only existed officially since 1935 as in any way traditional? Also, uniform wank was a thing even back in the day, apparently.

Now I wish I could remember which book it was I read where it specifically described 1935 as the year that the Heer and Luftwaffe "Came out of the closet."

On that note, I leave you with this shameless plugging of one my own videos.

Until next time. Which actually won't be too far away, as I'm probably going to get started on the next part in a few minutes. Whoops.

[–]Wikkoehitler is up to no good[S] 10ポイント11ポイント12ポイント 2日前 (3子コメント)

Chapter 4, Part One

Before we begin, I found the book mentioned at the end of my last post. "Eagles of the Third Reich: The Men Who Made the Luftwaffe" by Samuel W. Mitcham. It's been a while since I've read it, so I can't quite recall how Wehrby it is, but it does present the numerous failings and failures of the Luftwaffe fairly starkly, so at least there's that.

And here's the line I was referring to, right at the end of chapter one:

The Luftwaffe and the German Armed Forces (Wehrmacht) had come out of the closet.

Teehee.

Anyway,

We're approximately a quarter of the way through. Like I said in my original post, it's a relatively short read. We can make it through, we can survive. I know it.

When we last left our plucky too-young-to-be-a-hero, he was talking about how cool his uniform was.

it was dank as fuck tbh. it felt especially good to go brandenburger, or what you call, "commando", in them.

Well okay, that's not a real line.

My legs could hardly keep up with me as I hurried from place to place to spread the marvelous news. Ollie Weiss, standing a hundred and sixty-five centimetres tall - a full five feet, five inches

i was going to mock him for being a manlet, and then i rembered that's my exact height. FUCK.

A-anyway.

Anyway, he tried to join the Luftwaffe, but got rejected because he wears glasses. He was very surprised to learn that wearing spectacles doesn't mitigate things. Wearing spectacles while flying a fucking aircraft. The recruiter instead suggests that he joins the ground staff of the Luftwaffe, but he goes nuclear (and wild) about how he wants to fight, not polish propellers. On the note of Polishing propellers, I really wouldn't be at all surprised if details emerged about some secret German aircraft plant where they tested the durability of propellers by throwing Polish people into them while they were spinning. I really wouldn't doubt it for a second, with how insane and inhumane the Nazis were.

Hell, what would my papa think of me if I shirked fighting the Russian Bolsheviks who were threatening the freedom of our Third Reich?

Invasion of Soviet Union was in retaliation for those dang reds stomping German freedoms such as the freedom to not have Communism, Jews or Asiatic hordesmen within 10,000 km of the Reich. In all directions.

It never occurred to me... that I had been carefully programmed all through that wonderful time in the Hitlerjugend.

This is exactly what I was saying, though. He would've been perfectly aware of the Nazi interpretation of events and their worldview, because that's essentially what the Hitlerjugend existed to impart upon him. Claiming ignorance of it and its facets seems odd. Despite him constantly saying Aryan this, Aryan that, he made out he was genuinely baffled when it turned out that Jews and gypsies weren't Aryans, and were consequently being done away with. Gee mister, it's as if the superiority of Aryans had to be highlighted in contrast to other groups. Some lesser humans. Sub-optimal humans, perhaps. Lower-men? Sub-ordermen? Subrosians? Hmmmm. I'm sure it'll click with me soon, whatever that mystery word that eludes me was!

Being so cocky, I boasted that I could win the war single-handedly.

ONE RICK HOLZ = THE ENTIRE ALLIED WAR EFFORT. I dunno, guys, I actually think his claim here is pretty credible. He seems to have a knack for bringing things to their climax prematurely.

I would look at myself in the mirror and yell: Hell, yes, Papa, yes, Herr Hitler, you shall be proud of Ollie Weiss, I promise!

Golly I sure hope senpai notices me!

So basically he joins the infantry.

He proceeds to be a cunt to his boss at the office, because neener neener, I don't have to suffer you anymore, you bully-boss, I get to go and fight on the fucking Eastern Front.

Being rude and crude and telling him in exact words what I would have liked to tell him on the day I first met him at my job interview gave me tremendous satisfaction.

I don't think there is a single person this guy hasn't been a dink to so far.

Wuwoh, look out, more "mein papa"

'I'm not hungry. I'll think I'll go talk to papa for a while.'

'That won't do you much good,' she [His mom] muttered. 'He's been dead for over ten years. Can't you let him be?'

No, I can't,' I replied. 'Papa is still very much alive for me.'

Lucky for you, he isn't,' said Mother quietly. 'Your father wouldn't be very proud of you, that's for sure.'

I think the fact that moments like this have stuck with him for some 50 years are extremely telling.

I turned abruptly and stomped out into the corridor and slammed the door behind me.

Anyway, not long later, Helga comes to him in tears. She tells him her father, a baptist preacher, has been taken away by two men who she feels were with the Gestapo.

'It can't be true,' I insisted, 'it simply can't be. It's nothing but Communist calptrap. Our Fuehrer wouldn't stand by and let that happen.'

WEW HERE WE GO AGAIN.

My reasoning sounded stale and hollow. I'd used empty phrases like that much too frequently already.

At least he realized he was full of shit. Eventually.

Romantic stuff with Helga, tells her how they're going to have children when the war is over, smooch smooch, I-love-you, etc. It's good they're going to have children, because many others didn't get to. And many people who had children lost those children. And many children lost their parents. And for some families, there wasn't even anyone left to mourn, as they were all dead. But it's okay. Rick and Helga are going to have children some day.

With my little cardboard suitcase packed and a snapshot of Helga safely tucked away in my wallet, I stepped out into the unknown. Mutti walked me to the station. We really had nothing to say to each other. Instead of lying to me and telling me she would miss me, she brought coffee for us both from the kiosk on the platform. The train pulled in shortly after we'd gulped the terrible brew.

It must have been a real effort for her to put her hands on my shoulders, give me a bit of a squeeze and brush her cold lips across my forehead.

'Goodbye, son, and good luck,' she said. Her words sounded as if she was trying to absolve herself from all responsibilities.

Then Helga runs up as the train pulls away and he waves through the window at her and she waves back and she trips and smacks her face on the concrete. Naw, that doesn't happen. They do wave at each other, though. I love you, I love you, wait for me, the war will be over soon, etc.

[–]Wikkoehitler is up to no good[S] 10ポイント11ポイント12ポイント 2日前* (2子コメント)

Chapter 4, Part Two. End of chapter.

Post theme

The Free City of Danzig didn't exactly roll out the red carpet for me. This was perhaps the most exciting day of my life, and the army hadn't even sent a welcoming committee.

Not even the army is beyond his dinkery.

What an anticlimax!

Rick is a man of many unsatisfying climaxes.

I guess if I had known what I'd let myself in for, I would have put my Hitlerjugend uniform in mothballs and run a thousand miles to where I could never be found. But it was too late for me to back out now.

Too late for me to back out now

WAS JUST ~~FOLLOWING ORDERS~~ FOLLOWING MY DREAMS!

I learnt a hell of a lot on my first day in the army, and I didn't like any of it. A recruit is just that, a recruit. He has no rights. He has no privileges. He is a nitwit who salutes not only Tom, Dick and Harry but everything that has two legs and walks and resembles a human being or a gorilla.

Look, I know Full Metal Jacket wouldn't be around for several more decades, but I have a hard time believing that these things were all that surprising. Then again, a lot of books that painted a not so great picture of army life, such as All Quiet on the Western Front, were actually banned by the Nazis. I don't know. At the very least, he should've looked at it like him entering any other sort of job or organization. When you're at the bottom, you're at the bottom, and generally no one gives a fuck.

He is a nitwit who salutes... everything that has two legs... and resembles... a gorilla.

He did a remarkable job of looking through his crystal ball to see what life in SWS under BritainOpPlsNerf is like though : ^ )

But yeah, army life sucks. You get the idea. But he's really excited that his barracks has a window - something he didn't have back in home. This guy was previously living the Harry Potter life of being stuffed into some dark corridor. In fact, he even looks a bit like a Nazi Harry Potter. Yer the master race, Harry!

For a little fellow like me even the small size was too large

I know this feel.

'Nothing wrong with the coat,' he said exaggeratedly. 'It fits. You're just too small for it.'

This is a pretty good summary of WW2 Germany's mentality to all shortcomings tbh.

"This doesn't work." "No, it works. Trust me. ( ^ :"

So many hardships, so many whine. Wow. He gets pushed around in the army a lot.

It took less than a week for me to lose all my enthusiasm for the Wehrmacht.

I bet they didn't give the poor guy even a single circle jerk. Not even one frotting.

Hit the dirt, Weiss! Down, Weiss! Crawl, Weiss! Keep your arse to the ground, you stupid little bastard! - Yes, sir! Jawohl, Herr Gefreiter! Jawohl, Herr Unteroffizier! - You are a soldier, Weiss! You are in the infantry, Weiss! Keep on marching! Soldiers don't get blisters on their feet! Grenade! Take cover, Weiss! Shoot, Weiss, shoot! Pull that damned Trigger, Weiss! Shoot! Kill! Fix bayonet, Weiss! See that bale of straw? It's a Bolshevik, Weiss. Kill him, damn you! Kill him! Charge! Kill him with your bayonet! Weiss! That's what is a beyonet is for, you stupid idiot! Kill him! Kill, kill, kill!

I just imagine the instructor screaming at the top of his lungs like the guy in Call of Duty: WAW's multiplayer. God, I'm so sorry, ~~Weiss~~ ~~Rick~~ Ulrich.

I wanted to go home.

This instructor is too loud. My feet hurt. I'm hungry. I wish I was at home having Aryan girls laugh at me when I cum before even getting my dick in.

'You are an idiot, Weiss. Repeat!'

'I'm an idiot, sir.'

Humiliation upon humiliation, executed to perfection by the butchers of human spirit.

And he thought his mommy was hard on him.

Then he goes out on the town. A sexy girly ends up sitting on his lap. However, before they can boink, he remembers the curfew, checks his watch, and makes a bolt for it. When he gets to the tram stop, the carriage of soldiers pulls up, and he suddenly pisses himself.

I whistled 'Lili Marlene' to cover up my embarrassment. The old ladies smiled at me, and I prayed that my boots wouldn't overflow as I emptied my bladder.

He tries to convince his bud who asks about his wet pants. He tries to make out that the girl got mad at him when he said he had to go back the barracks and poured beer on his crotch. His buddy doesn't believe him.

'That's what they all say. Never mind, it's better to piss in your pants than to catch syphilis or crabs or something.'

The glorious German Wehrmacht.

このスレッドの続きを見る

[–]somenbjornChieftain is wrong. Death Traps is a reliable source 3ポイント4ポイント5ポイント 2日前 (2子コメント)

So I had a chat with one of my closest friends who just so happens to be a psychologist currently working with children and youths, just trying to get her opinion on the situation.

The jist of it is that loosing a parent at such a young age is almost always a very traumatic experience but it can have different outcomes. Like the idolizing we see here, 6 year olds idolize their parents and with his father being dead reality never steps in and shows him that his father is human.

He also probably feels resentment to his mother for the simple reason he feels betrayed and let down by her, maybe her being struck by her own grief and the prospect of raising him and his sister alone she couldn't be there for him when he needed it the most. Later in life his very real and alive mother is constantly compared to his dead and whitewashed father.

The differences naturally becomes huge, and this could be the cause of his resentment.

It is then pretty natural for him to go out searching for male role models, today it would be kinda expected for boys in similar situations to perhaps get close to another male relative, some sports coach or what have you. This is quite a well known fact and is often used by sexual predators, or you know genocidal dictators.

This even becomes more obvious with what you point out about his step-father. He simply sees his step-father as trying to usurp his fathers position, a father who is now long gone but nonetheless are conserved as the undying hero he is for many 6-year old boys. By comparison this "Fredrick the great" obviously comes of as way waaay to inadequate.

Back to the authors previous question: "If you'd been in my place, maybe you wouldn't have been quite as gullible, but neither you nor I know that, do we?"

No he is quite the mentally damaged kid who happened to attach himself to the HJ since that was the predominant organization for kids who felt like they didn't belong. (Something that is kinda the point of these organizations, pioneers were no different) Its very possible that if he didn't lose his father at that age, or if there was a close male relative to take his place, you wouldn't have resented your mother so much that you didn't listen to her.

That if he hadn't been so desperate for male role models Hitler would have just been another politician.

Or perhaps that if he had dealt with his grief and faced it he wouldn't have been so susceptible for any excuse he could get his hands on. Plenty of people go through the same things, they are more susceptible of being taken advantage off by political groups, sects, predetors etc. But it also comes down to being a gullible fool and facing your problems or not.

Or am I the only one reading this story and getting a feeling he is trying to run away from something?

[–]Wikkoehitler is up to no good[S] 2ポイント3ポイント4ポイント 2日前* (1子コメント)

Admittedly very little of this struck me when I was first read the book, and it's fascinating to see it again through these new lenses here. I did get the feeling on my first reading that his vagueness, while in part owed to the distance between then and when he wrote it, might be intentional to save his hide from something - while also getting this all out there, albeit in an incomplete manner. For instance, when he wrote the book, it was actually first under a fake name. In fact, he still uses the pseudonym throughout the book, Ollie Weiss. To snap back to the intro, there's a section on this very thing that I feel is interesting, and possibly even revealing. It follows on from him kicking himself about not maintaining a diary.

I keep telling myself that I should have kept a diary, a kind of gloom-and-doom account. But I guess I would have lost it along the way, together with my anguish, my hatred, my virginity, my adversities, my obsessions, my stupidity and all the many and various things that can warp one's mind and steer a naive young man towards self-destruction.

For many years I tried to write this memoir but it just didn't come together. I found that it was much easier to write about my life under a different name. 'Ollie Weiss' helped me get down exactly what I thought and felt.

I chose the name Ollie because it is related to my real name, Ulrich [This part is weird, because the name on the front, back and everywhere else is Rick Holz. Fake names within fake names? Maybe assumed a more unassuming name when he moved to Australia? It's not explained]. For much of my childhood I was known as the black sheep. Perhaps this is why the surname Weiss (White) was so appealing.

Maybe I am projecting too much of myself into my interpretation of this, but I just know that when I've tried to express unsavory things I've been through or done, it's impossible to ever do it completely. There's always reshaping it so that it doesn't sting at the conscience too much, and always some things that can't ever make their way out at all. I've found that even when I do similar to him and try to make it depersonalized, write it out only for myself, and so on, I'm still re-manufacturing my account for my own sake.

How does this tie back to him? There were several things that struck me as strange through my first reading of the book, and I'll keep pointing them out as they come out. But several core things. I don't think he ever identifies any specific outfit he was part of. The closest he gets to it is when he is, for a time, transferred to this formation here. Excuse the out of the way and strange source, because I literally could not find these guys anywhere else. True to the description of their operations, he does indeed handle surrendering Italian forces. However, I don't believe he mentions anything about fighting partisans. Strange. This actually ties into another problem. There's massive time skips, massive gaps, lots of details left out. Also some facts he brings up that I'm extremely iffy on, and I'll point out those as well. Honestly his account of things struck me as very sanitized compared to some far more grisly memoirs I've read.

[–]somenbjornChieftain is wrong. Death Traps is a reliable source 4ポイント5ポイント6ポイント 2日前 (0子コメント)

I think you hit the nail on the head here. I don't think he is lying or intentionally hiding things. But everyone is justified in their own image. And we do self-sanitize our memory.

I mean if we could bring the bastard back to life and let him talk to professionals he would probably still struggle with making the connections, even if it is spelled out in black and white. People can be incredibly ignorant of their own shortcomings and seeing the issues with their reasoning.

In "Opa war kein Nazi" it is discussed at some length. I mean just look at that video of the Opas being confronted by that Dutch lady asking why the Wehrmacht deported to their death all the men from her village, and why that wasn't a crime.

I recall an example of this with a veteran of the Waffen-SS Totenkopf, claiming he treated people fairly and was not part of the brutality and injustice in the east. But later he would explain how he had mowed down surrendering Soviet POW because they felt they didn't have time to take them prisoner.

He simply could not make the connection between his own actions and the wider historical and legal narrative.

[–]somenbjornChieftain is wrong. Death Traps is a reliable source 10ポイント11ポイント12ポイント 3日前 (3子コメント)

Wait wait wait, stop for a second. His mother wasn't a communist right? He is just thinking about denouncing her because she won't give him tendies?

Doesn't that indicate the he does understand to some degree what the nazis are doing? Or that he might be able to make people disappear by denouncing them as communists?

formed a big circle with ten of my friends under that huge old chestnut tree at the far end of the park. We all wore our uniforms. And we opened the flies of our black shorts and masturbated like hell.

Doesn't matter if you say no-homo. That is gay as fuck. Now bend over and let this bearded Swede show you a good time.

He literally is an edgelord fucktard who blames everyone else for his daddy issues.

I mean it's already clear at this point what this guys problem was: You lost your dad at a young age this left you feeling alone. You created an idolized picture of your father as a great hero, this is very fucking common. Because of you feeling alone you naturally look for a place were you felt like you belonged and you found it in the HJ. So you'll go out and follow them to the letter because you are way way too heavily involved with this ideology.

This is like a textbook fucking case of people joining cults.

Sorry sorry, do continue Wikkoe

[–]Wikkoehitler is up to no good[S] 8ポイント9ポイント10ポイント 3日前* (1子コメント)

[–]somenbjornChieftain is wrong. Death Traps is a reliable source 4ポイント5ポイント6ポイント 2日前 (0子コメント)

[–]SirShrimp 2ポイント3ポイント4ポイント 2日前 (0子コメント)

[–]zabandi 6ポイント7ポイント8ポイント 2日前 (3子コメント)

[–]Wikkoehitler is up to no good[S] 8ポイント9ポイント10ポイント 2日前* (1子コメント)

[–]zabandi 3ポイント4ポイント5ポイント 2日前 (0子コメント)

[–]Gameguru08Hoover Dam Worse than Nipton 4ポイント5ポイント6ポイント 2日前 (0子コメント)

[–]Nihlus111 Bismarck = 5 biplanes 1ポイント2ポイント3ポイント 4時間前 (0子コメント)

[–]somenbjornChieftain is wrong. Death Traps is a reliable source 4ポイント5ポイント6ポイント 3日前 (3子コメント)

[–]Wikkoehitler is up to no good[S] 10ポイント11ポイント12ポイント 3日前 (2子コメント)

[–]somenbjornChieftain is wrong. Death Traps is a reliable source 5ポイント6ポイント7ポイント 3日前 (0子コメント)

[–]DBSN_Reddit_Version 1ポイント2ポイント3ポイント 2日前 (0子コメント)

[–]MaxRavenclawIn reality, most tank battles took place at ranges over 2km! 3ポイント4ポイント5ポイント 2日前 (2子コメント)

My beloved Adolf Hitler had appeared from heaven like a merciful angel and, with wisdom, swiftness, and efficiency, had changed our Vaterland almost overnight. If a man had ever performed miracles, our Fuhrer was that man. He'd brought smiles back onto the faces of our people. He'd chased the shadows of economic depression into oblivion and he'd put honest and well-earned money back into the wallets of the working men. Factories, houses, whole suburbs were sprouting like mushrooms after a thunderstorm.

The hated Adolf Hitler had appeared from the depths of hell like the genocidal devil spawn that he was, and with pure hatred, swiftness, but not efficiency, made men, women and children vanish almost overnight. If a man ever came close to the Antichrist himself, the Fuhrer was that man. He'd brought terror and anguish in the hearts of Jews and other minorities. He took our money and our food and our lives. He stomped on us like one would on cockroaches after turning on the light in the basement.

Another perspective on how things were.

[–]Wikkoehitler is up to no good[S] 1ポイント2ポイント3ポイント 2日前 (1子コメント)

[–]MaxRavenclawIn reality, most tank battles took place at ranges over 2km! 2ポイント3ポイント4ポイント 2日前 (0子コメント)

[–]somenbjornChieftain is wrong. Death Traps is a reliable source 11ポイント12ポイント13ポイント 3日前 (3子コメント)

[–]SergeantSpookAfter all, if there's anyone we can trust, it's the Nazis. 13ポイント14ポイント15ポイント 3日前 (2子コメント)

[–]finfinfin 7ポイント8ポイント9ポイント 2日前 (1子コメント)

[–]phoenixbasileusPoland shouldn't have been flashing that Danzig Corridor about 7ポイント8ポイント9ポイント 2日前 (0子コメント)

[–]OMGSPACERUSSIA 9ポイント10ポイント11ポイント 2日前 (0子コメント)

[–]MarkerMakeUsWholefast & Führious 4ポイント5ポイント6ポイント 2日前 (4子コメント)

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