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