sample from Chapter 19: Stronghold of the Spirit

“And so we wait,” sighed Reimer, “Life, next to time, will send us a lot!”

“Pah,” a Viannese named Hase, who’d been the Over-Lieutenant of the division Das Reich, made the gesture.

“Ever since I was a soldier, I became used to being overwhelmed.” Soft blue eyes twinkled with slight amusement from his otherwise hardened face. “I’m happy to have vacations from the mudholes and not having to endure twenty-four hour firing spells.” Becoming serious again, he continued, “We all know in our little circle here that warring parts have continued to be  divided through the last dramatic events in the world of the Lebensraum of the white human race. While we wait, they acquire new frontlines. Not only the East – the whole colored world has been controlled by subtle forces to rise up against the whites!”

“This shifting of fronts confirms the ancient Greek proverb pantha rhei – everything flows,” added Recke, “At Point 103 we still had the colored world beside us. I doubt it’ll stay that way. Even the special position of the Germans to colored peoples will wane. Greater Thule will have to become the sword and shield even for the blinded of the white Lebensraum. Then comes our parole and our hour!”

“We Franks also will also be there again,” said Frêne with emphasis, “Many of us have already grasped the deeper sense behind everything that’s happeing. Didn’t my friends help defend a broken Berlin in a situation of war that became hopeless?”

While the men nodded to Frêne, he asked Von Lothar of the French, “What’s going to happen now?”

Recke raised his hand, “Frêne can come with me for the time being. I’ll always have room for a comrade!”

The Carcassonner sought to fend this off.

“No excuses, Major!” said Recke, cutting off every objection.

“That’s right,” affirmed Hase, “Close together and then straight through. That was also the old division’s motto. We survivors must stay together, to be able to hold our own!”

“That we will do,” agreed von Lothar, “We remain a stronghold of the spirit in survival of this era. We’re guilty to the dead of three Reichs.”

“Greater Thule is to become the new spiritual concept for all white peoples of the North, a spiritual Reich above all structures of state and time, in the old and new world. In this womb also lies the fourth Reich of the Germans!” Hase leaned forward, bright lights dancing in his eyes. “I know a hundred-year-old text that speaks of a mountain white at midnight and of the white midnight sun. Tiger and dragon beset the heroes of the north. Even the three-fold Diadem of the Pope turns to dust.

“Another passage of the transcript from the year 1671 announced that Europe would bear a powerful child, a lord of the fourth Reich! And in the “Themis Aurea” there’s talk of a Germania that lies wide over the geographical boundaries of which until today divide nations. The demonism of the collective is known in the old foresight and realized as Gog and Magog. The great anonymity in the world-system of today have indeed mobilized nihilism against us, they have used black and grey magic through their Beth-Midrashim on a metaphysical level, temple and ark activated and in foreseeable times turning the colored peoples against us and to oppress us.

“We face a decisive movement of history. The now lost war was only a prelude, not the end. Friedrich Schiller coined the words: Evil may win the day, but eternity belongs to the true and good. Be we ready!”

In the room was a deep silence. Through the window danced sunbeams. The Salzburg sky showed a deep, rich blue and the sun itself hung like a gold-blazing disk in the firmament.

“Blue and gold – the ancient Antlantean colors,” said Hase after a while with a slightly husky voice.

Dreamily he continued, “They’re the colors of the sons of the sun, of those my friend Edmund Kiss spoke to me when I was in the prison camp at St. Avold with him. They held us there worse than animals. The prisoners were dying off like flies and we felt the power that wanted to break us. By the time we were discharged as survivors, Kiss was terminally sick. And therewith he ripped up his work. He went away too soon, like Kurt Eggers and many others. But he left us this piece of knowledge in his book Swans of Thule:

The earth once belonged to the Northern people, now they are smashed and shattered and err on the ice-ridges of Thule, like the swans of their homeland.

But the lance of the soul still seeks the peaks and heights.

In the deepest need they are determined to once again impart the world round with the pressure of their souls.

sample from Chapter 18: Om Mani Padme Hum

OM MANI PADME HUM…

Who strives to possess worldly goods,

Instead of developing his mind,

Is like an eagle whose wings are crippled.

(Tagpo Lhadje)

Bearded, hollow-eyed and torn the five men and the girl had moved for days in the direction given by Dubtób. The pace of travel was quite slow.

            In a remote gompa, whose monks stood out through extraordinary silence, they took in a day of rest on the courteous invitation of the abbot, since the distant construction offered considerable security. Yet they had to contend with a simple storage room in an extension of the gompa, for the monks did not allow a woman to walk through the halls of the Holy Monestary. The llamas here were more strict and ascetic than the people from the gompa of the Seven Lotus, and they were also clearly of a different sect.

            Through the whole day one could hear the murmurs of the praying monks and the creaking of prayer-wheels, “Om mani padme hum – Oh, Lotus-Jewel!...”

            In this cloister Gutmann made a remarkable discovery. In the brief and merely formal farewell ceremony, given by the abbot of the abstruse gompa, Gutmann saw on a low table top a round copper plate with the form of a temple’s rising tower in the middle.

            He stepped closer to the abbot, “Permit me a question, Light of Amithaba in this holy house,” Gutmann pointed to the curious disc, “What is thus, oh tangpo, oh Abbot?”

            The tangpo’s air was almost hostile, “Why would you want to know, stranger?”

            “It reminds me of a thing we call mani and has an archetypal form that resembles this piece.”

It wasn’t appearent for sure whether the tangpo, the ordinary abbot, had understood the explanation. His face betrayed neither knowledge nor ignorance. After a brief pause he allowed reluctantly, “It is a symbol of of a Buddhist city, we call it Chot-Mandal…”

Gutmann looked meaningfully at Juncker, who’d accompanied him when they were leaving. In a low voice he said, “A very peculiar name. Undoubtedly a synonym of the mani-form. Right here in this monestary…”

The abbot had tried distrustfully to catch the whispered words, but he was unable to understand their foreign language. With an almost rude-imperious gesture he demanded attention, “Are you scribes, that you know more about this disk?”

“We’ve seen disks flying,” diverted Gutmann, “They glowed with different colors, or had a long flaming tail!”

“Kye – He-! – Nis-chu' terykh – flying carts!” The tangpo did not hide his excitement. “You are guests of my gompa,” he continued, after a brief moment of surprise, “But I have the right to ask: are you spies for a foreign power who are seeking these disks? If that’s so, then know that I know nothing. I don’t know anything!” The tone bespoke his lies.

            “We’re no spies,” assured Juncker calmly, continuing in Gutmann’s place, “But surely you’ve seen disks in the sky at least once, like us. It doesn’t make me a spy if you saw some things and acknowledge that you remember them!”

            “Kye!” cried the tangpo again, “Nis-chu' terykh mk'a la – the flying carts in the heavens, kye, they’re the sign of some new era! And it could be that our secret writings in Potala are right, that report of a time that will come to finish the tests. When it is fulfilled, the King of Shamballa will appear and save those who are faithful and lead them from the sorrows of this world into his realm of bliss, which is more beautiful than the paradise of Amithaba. Who but resists will be destroyed must suffer through agonies before, and then, chastised by this, being able to move into bliss. That is the last battle on this earth, the last strife of the three worlds. Then the teachings of Tsongkhapa will rule the universe and all the blessings and gifts will be common to all men…” The cheeks of the zealous tangpo showed a hectic color, “Hear, you strangers, hear and say it further!”

            “He cited the Lamaist world-mission,” said Juncker to Gutmann quickly, who scarcely understood a piece of it. To the tangpo he went on loudly, “We have heard what you have said to us, oh tangpo. But you said not but earlier that you knew nothing, and now you show us the signs in the sky!”

            The tangpo made a scowl and at the same time a threatening hand gesture, grabbing the little thungerbolt symbol and holding the demon-banishing cult fetish with the thumbs as well as holding the middle two fingers of his right hand while sticking just his index finger and little finger up. “Evil spirits guide your thoughts! How could you even allege a tangpo? I see you want to say bye and go. I won’t hold you up – right, strange men, right?”

            Juncker and Gutmann left after a formal gesture from the belligerent abbot. A bit later the little group rode on into the partially quilted landscape.

            The groups of nomads appeared much less dangerous, abundantly against Indian coins and gladly gave milk, cheese and brick tea. Even flour and some millet could be acquired.

 TN: I'm glad to be able to put this out. Translation has been erratic so far as I've not had a lot of time to continue it. I hope to post the completed first chapter by the end of Autumn 2012.