He was a brilliant, albeit, secular man. A Navy Commander
whose last fighter cockpit was in the F8F Bearcat. Oh hell yes. Top
that all you ground-pounding New York rats. I dare you.
He was tall, talented, well-turned, well-bred and had all the
right stuff. The only thing he lacked was a God-fearing soul. He
charged into the fray of life banking only on his human abilities.
Sometimes a man needs more. But I
read in his words a hard leaning toward Jesus Christ. Rockwell was devoid of hatred. He was right as rain and good as gold. He sang the praises of Christians from
a secular mind -- in that an honest man cannot deny the fruits of their tree. Rockwell was an honest man.
A virtuous man on his path to God with too many irons in the fire. Too many balls in the air. Too many wild dogs snapping at his
heels when he wrote this book -- to
"be still and know that I am God" as the Word says.
This can be seen by the way life knocked him around. He
leapt out there, taking on the punches without a prayer. Just his guts
and wit. His first wife was an ice queen. His second finally
collapsed under the pressure of his persecution. He was survived by seven
children.
After a surprisingly good childhood despite the Great Depression
and a broken home, Rockwell entered Brown University in the fall of 1938.
A hurricane ravished the New England coast that year — tantamount to the
covert, creeping communism. He fast learned that President
Roosevelt was a traitor and a liar. And that Charlie Chaplin was a
Marxist jew who changed his name from Israel Thonstein. Rockwell wrote
that Chaplin “…is so red [that] even our pinko State Department has banned him
from the U.S.A.”
However, even an intellectual like Rockwell swallowed the lies
about Hitler. When Roosevelt’s jew-friendly war broke out, Rockwell
rushed off to “come to the aid of his country.” To save them from the
evil Nazi’s in a fratricidal war fanned up by the jews for the jews.
Headlong into the U.S. Navy. Back when “wooden ships and
iron men” was still the motto. Rockwell got a kick out of military
discipline. It was a good fit. He embraced the dangerous life of a
Naval Aviator with zeal. Catapulted off USS OMAHA into blushing
dawn. Dreams still in his head. Barely out of bed. Yonder lay
blue Neptune kissing Aurora. Lip-lock to die for. Oh the sight of
that. What a wake-up, aye, sailor-boy?
Five hours of wartime surveillance in an old prop-job with every
drop of fuel measured to the mile. One mistake in his calculations and he
goes the way of Amelia. Out here in the Fleet, it’s all pass/fail
baby. Saying nothing of trying to set ‘er back down on a pitching,
rolling deck, bleary-eyed, sapped and woozy. Can you find that little
ship?
Rockwell sure as hell did. The John F. Kennedy Navy
hardened him for what would come later. And like Kennedy in those days,
boy was he good-lookin’. Had his pick of the fillies too. His
accounts of women will make you tingle. Where are men like that
today? Where are the gentleman in choker whites? He was eighteen
before he got his first kiss. A Victorian to the bone.
All this in a man whose home life provided no church. I
can only imagine the spiritual edge that a good Catholic or Muslim upbringing
would have given him.
Beautiful writing about his Navy days will bring you to your
knees even if you never wore the blue. He puts you there — flying stick
in an old recon bird over El Caribe. The adventures of which he would
later recount to the “less heroic deck-apes.” Lording it over the
black-shoe Navy as they eagerly awaited reports from their pilots about what
had been seen. “I ached for a carrier and a hotter plane with more
combat…”
He longed for a brand new F4U Corsair, “at that time the hottest
and deadliest thing in the air.” Make me break out in a cold sweat,
fly-boy. Dang that gull-wing thing. With a monstrous cowling and a
monstrous prop. Surly blue to disappear into the sea. I long for
one too.
But next it was off to Pensacola and the P-38 Lightning.
Life gallops along at top speed. A wife is taken. A family
emerges. The war ends. Civilian life begins.
About this time Rockwell learns about a Senator from Wisconsin
named Joseph R. McCarthy. His awakening to the jewish problem thence
began. It hit him like a tidal wave. As it does all of us.
Just in time for Harry Truman to fire General Douglas McArthur, Rockwell’s
beloved hero. The jews hated both McCarthy and McArthur, smearing them in
their character assassination rags. Hissing venom and vitriol, they
shouted about how McArthur threatened to become another Hitler.
Rockwell wrote, “I found that Communism was not only Jewish, but
the Jews boasted about its Jewishness in their books and papers!” His new
mission had begun. Smitten with the clarion call of duty to rid our
society of this menace who was “forcing integration on us, degrading our
culture with their filthy art of chaos and pornography and, worst of all,
spreading the disease of Communism…” Once Rockwell heard the speeches of
Senator McCarthy, his fire was ignited. He tore into text like he did
everything in life — like a tiger.
He devoured all the commie rags and mags. The Daily
Worker, New Masses, the Library of Congress yielded up its hidden
treasures. He learned how Communist jews planted their seeds in China
before the 1949 overthrow of its government. He read Henry Ford’s
warnings from the 1920′s. He read the Protocols of the Learned Elders of
Zion.
America was crawling with Communist spies in the 1950′s (all jews).
Some of whom were caught and hanged. I bet you won’t read about them in
the New York Times.
Rockwell writes that Jews were in charge of our atomic weapons
and programs also. Leave it to Lyndon to undo what Kennedy did in
forbidding the newly-formed jewish state a nuclear arsenal. Now look at
the monster they have become.
All this Rockwell figured out before he got his hands on Mein Kampf.
Like Henry Ford and DeWest Hooker, the blinders were off. He was wide
awake, “I began to wonder why we had gone to war on the side of the Bolsheviks
who had openly bragged for a hundred years of their plans to destroy us by
force and violence, lies and subversion; while we completely wrecked Christian
Germany, which never had a single highly-placed spy in our country…”
That was the pivot. That was the turning point. Then after he found a copy of Hitler’s magnum opus tucked away in the back of a bookshop, the big picture emerged. “I could not lay the book down without agonies of impatience to get back to it. I read it walking to the squadron, I took it into the air and read it, propped up on the chartboard… circling over the desert. I read it on the Coronado Ferry. I read it into the night and resumed the next morning. … I studied it, thought about it and wondered at the utter, indescribable genius of it.”
And thus began Commander Rockwell’s fever to fix what ails us. He tried doing this without a Nazi arm-band, but the news jews gave him no coverage. So he started the American Nazi Party knowing damn well that now they would.
He drew fire from the jews something fierce. They do the usual thing they always do. Smear you in their crooked press. Wreck your job. Go after your marriage and family. Yadda yadda. If all that does not deter you then they pay someone to kill you.
Rockwell was picked off like Kennedy in 1967. Oh well. Better than dying in adult diapers at 97. His book survived just fine. In full Nazi garb, he was invited to speak at universities all over the country. These speeches were filmed for posterity and can now be seen on YouTube. Rockwell is all over the Internet. You can download a free copy of this book here: http://jrbooksonline.com/PDF_Books/This_Time_the_World.pdf
