Neo-Nazis (Nazis) Claim to be ARYANS. Huummmm.

I watched an excellent documentary film two evenings ago, titled The Aryans, by Mo Asumang.  Mo is a German of mixed parentage, her father being from Ghana and her mother white German.  Her mother was in the Nazi “SS,” and her father was a German officer.  Mo decided she had had enough of neo-Nazi racists in her own land, so embarked on making a film about Nazis, Aryans and hate groups, including the KKK in the US.  She even went to Iran, in search of “real Aryans.”

Prior to watching this film, then doing some research on the web, I had always believed that yes, Aryans were “Caucasians” who at one time lived somewhere north of India, and many thousands of years ago had migrated into the Indian continent, eventually changing India’s complexion, religions and instituting the caste system.  From what I have read, although many Indians themselves cling to this theory, probably helped along by 19th Century British and other European “scholars,” the truth may be far from that.

Moreover, it appears that Iranians, Persians, have a claim on being the original Aryans, although that in itself appears to be very contentious.

Mo bought a ticket  and traveled to Iran, then went out in the countryside and found some folk to claim to be real Aryans.  Who am I to doubt them, nor did she.  Who really knows?  The real Aryans seem to be almost mythical, like so much of world history that we have been taught as fact.  We forget how old civilizations are, and each having its own origins story, which have been played over and over through time, rewritten, enhanced and offered up as nationalistic rhetoric each time the land passed into new powers.

So, basically Mo proved what she already knew: that the Nazi and “German fraternities” claims about being “real Germans” and rooted in “Aryan stock” was basically bullshit created by one little mustached, dark haired, dark eyed idiot (at least he could have bleached his hair to emulate what “Aryans” are supposed to look like, blue-eyed (as I am) blondes (I am not).

What was an eye opener in her film was just how pervasive these hate groups and quasi-hate group “fraternities” are around Germany.  There are even areas controlled by neo-Nazis…..small villages….where “non Whites” and Jews are told not to tread.  A bit scary, for sure.  I guess my father in his B-25 and his outfit of the 57th Bombardment Wing missed a few of these guys granddads when he was bombing their asses in Italy.  But then, you can’t kill an idea, good or evil, with bombs.

Mo boarded another airplane to wing the pond, to interview a creep whose name I shall not repeat, as he doesn’t deserve any mention, but his words were so vile and wrong that I cannot even find my own words to comment.

What Mo showed, as I already knew, is that generally these “Aryans” are nothing more than men (and sometimes women) who are losers in our society:  losers with getting friends who aren’t losers, getting girlfriends, ones who likely were bullied in school, ones who had poor parenting or none at all, generally guys looking to blame their shitty existence on.  So if you can do that and wear Halloween costumes, whoa, now that’s life, right?

As for the KKK, I will write about them another day.  The origins of the KKK are amusing, but not what they did over the next 100 years.  Aryans? No.  Scottish like me.  Yes.  Sadly.

Anyway, I am still looking to find the real Aryans, and if I do, I will let you all know.

SIX TRIPLE EIGHT

Thanks to the 6888th Central Postal Directory Battalion of WW2 our soldiers finally got the letters and packages from home that had been backed up in a warehouse for some two years!

The “Six Triple Eight” was an all African American female battalion, commanded by Charity Adams, who by the end of the war was the highest ranking black woman in the Army.

These black women did their job remarkably well, in fact, superbly, accomplishing assignments in half the time the Army had directed.  However, we can be certain that our soldiers who finally got an old package gave little thought to the “mail carriers,” and likely had no kind words for the Army’s ability to get the mail through.

A few weeks after Victory Europe day, three of these great ladies were killed in France in a jeep accident.  They are all interred at the Normandy American Cemetery, France.  They are 3 of 4 on the only women buried there.

Here are links you may want to peruse:

6888th Central Postal Directory Battalion

https://www.google.com/search?source=hp&ei=guV8XYXPFoOV0PEPzIaC8AE&q=6888th+central+postal+battalion&oq=6888th&gs_l=psy-ab.1.2.0l7.3068.8015..11141…0.0..0.150.847.0j7……0….1..gws-wiz…..0..0i131.Lr3pjs8RQWU#spf=1568466321952

 

Heaven Can Wait

Tomorrow is the 75th Anniversary of D Day.  I will stand down on my blogging tomorrow, in solemn remembrance of the sacrifice so many made that day.

On that day 75 years ago, our father was completing his formation flying training in the B-25J, twin-engine medium bomber, in Greenville, South Carolina.  Earlier that year he had married the sweet girl who would become mother of his two kids, myself and my sister. Later in August of that year they returned briefly to Texas so he could present his bride to parents and family, a happy occasion, but with the no doubt the unspoken fear parents naturally would have, especially given the news of the raging war.

In mid-September our father winged across the southern route of the Atlantic crossing, via Ascension island, landing first at Monrovia, then up to Marrakech, then to Tunisia, and thence to his final base, the strategic island of Corsica that had been recently retaken from the Italians..

For the next seven months our father flew 70 missions attacking bridges, armament emplacements, power stations, and yes, German troops, as the Allies took the fight to the retreating Germans dug in along battle lines in northern Italy.  Names like Brenner Pass and Po Valley were on the daily agenda.  Enduring sub-freezing conditions at night in their tents as they tried to get some sleep before arising again at 5 a.m. for the mission briefing, then flying missions to targets typically 300 miles distant and holding tight formation through AAA (flak) explosions all around, day after day, takes a toll on spirit, but his 445th Squadron of the 321st Group, were undaunted in their tasks.

Our father returned unscathed from the war, although I realized years ago that he had carried silently what we now call PTSD, but he handled it well, yet it was his own internal battle.  Back then there was not even recognition or acknowledgment of this condition, much less a term for it.

Daddy was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross and the Air Medal with six Oak Leaf Clusters for his heroism.  To me he was always my hero, but there were thousands and thousands of heroes who saved Democracy in those years – especially on D Day.

Let us not take what we enjoy lightly, and let us not allow it to be squandered by those who have no idea what patriotism truly is.

And, yes, the photo of the B-25J, Heaven Can Wait, was the very one our father flew his last ten missions.