Book Review: Storm of Steel

by William Yates



17 December 2004

Book Review: Storm of Steel

[by Ernst Junger (New York: Penguin Books, 2004; Stuttgart: J.G. Cotta'sch Buckhandlung Nachfolger GmBH, 1920.)]

We see the fuzzy shaded films of the Great War, where the men walk too fast, and the machines are primitive, the horses are pulling cannon. It impresses us as far away, and naive. And yet the Great War brought the White men to his present condition of dire emergency. Like the consequences of the disintegration of the western Roman Empire, the effects of the Great War are with us: imbued in our economics and culture, our governments and our ideals, and we hardly notice them. Both events were epilepsies that broke down the Aryan structure. The Great War, like the disintegration of Rome, presented openings to the Aryan's most dangerous enemies, and he is now on the edge of disappearing from lifestream. An Aryan concerned with the survival of his kind should understand the Great War. Ernst Junger's Storm of Steel might be the best encapsulation of it.

Junger was an infantry officer in the Kaiser's army. He kept a diary which was published in 1920. It sold so well it was translated and sold well throughout Europe and America. Former enemy soldiers wrote Junger. Storm made of him a celebrity and inspired him with literary momentum which lasted decades. (He wrote his last book in 1985; he died in 1998, aged 102.) That few whites know his name attests to the effectiveness of the jew oligopoly in the media and his determination to obliterate the deeds of great white men. It might be true that the artistic personality makes the most effective revolutionary. This does not weaken the impression of objectivity the reader gets from him. Descriptions of cataclysm first-hand require imagination. Without it a memoir is merely journalism. Junger's intelligence and style draw you into his world. He puts you in a trench with a Mauser 98K in your hand. The artillery barrage has just ended. Your ears are ringing; you are covered with mud and gore. Wisps of detonated nitrate cling to the scarred earth. You are scanning the moonscape for the first enemy coming over the rise...

The translation, done by one Michael Hoffman (not the Catholic Internet writer) in 2003, is excellent. He wrote the introduction also, which is remarkably fair and thorough. We may be sure that Storm has been reissued on the strength of Junger's career. He never joined the Nazi Party, and he consented to several revisions of Storm which, according to Herr Hoffman, were severe and patriotic in their first issue.

Junger saw four continuous years of combat. You pay attention to such men; one of the first things you notice is the confidence of those men. I refer not only to the Germans but the rest. It was a world of Aryans that is nearly gone. Junger was a total soldier because he was a total white man. His identity was complete, his role and duty clear. He had roots. He was part of a continuity, that is, a race-organism. One gets the impression of a wind that must blow, a wind that cannot stop nor change direction and only a mountain can break it. The Great War was that mountain. I cannot imagine a modern Aryan soldier taking such a beating in a ZOG war and keeping his faith.

Those white men born before the Great War were different from us. In composition, yes; a great deal more in intellectual sustenance. Whites today carry the whole blood of a Junger, but their atmosphere is poisoned, their roots withered. Aryan man in 1914 was at his height. That was not so long ago; I have a living aunt born that year. Now Aryan man is fast approaching his nadir. The fall has been stupefying. But was it really a fall, or a grievous wound from which the Aryan will recover and be more strong than he ever was? This will show soon. The problem was an is this; the Aryan does not understand the power of the technology he invented. Junger brings you into the consequences: the gas attacks, the mines and artillery, the medieval bravado disintegrating under direct machine gun fire. Let us forgive their naivete just as we hope our grandchildren, who will be fighting for existence, forgive us our faults. Let's take Junger's Storm of Steel then for what it is: the details of a type of man at war, the depiction of his instincts bending against mechanized death, his ideas of Fatherland and honor, the consequences of technology. Storm is neither pleasant nor repulsive unless you are a simpleton looking for a thriller, or you are unused to graphic descriptions of whtie men slaughtering each other.

Ernst Junger was 19 years old when he enlisted as a private in a Hanoverian regiment on August 1, 1914. School bored him -- of course. A year earlier he had left it to join the Foreign Legion. What became of his contract with the French Government is not stated, nor does he mention his Legion service. He spoke and read French, the only evidence of his life before the war. Storm is a bare chronological memoir, made vital by anecdotes. His entire service was on the front north end and north-east of Paris: along the river Somme, in southern Belgium, and the Champagne region. This was, as you might recall, the thrust of the longtime German plan for the invasion of France, which skirted the difficult country directly east (Saarland, Alsace, Lorraine). Storm opens sometime in Fall of 1914 (Junger is not precise on dates, a style that makes his memoir literature) on a troop train carrying Junger's regiment towards the line in Champagne. He describes the villages -- depopulated, destroyed, overrun with rats feeding off human corpses buried in the rubble -- the trenches in the chalky soil. We end nearly four years later in his fourth hospitalization. Along the way he picks up a commission, command of an infantry company, and 20 wounds. There is no sensible progression -- perhaps mirroring the staticness, the waste and loggerhead unintelligibility of the men with their machines. The text is free not only of military jargon but also politics. There barely is anything near patriotism except the pregnant and plastic "Vaterland," which he uses discreetly. One concludes he was a less a flag-waver and more an adventurer. It is also apparent that he liked a good scrap. The only element that breaks what is a static description of bloodletting is the enemy's increasing power. This alone saves the reader from feeling himself in a nightmare mosaic of sodden trenches, tripping over rotting bodies ("A sweetish smell and a bundle hanging in the wire caught my attention. In the rising mist, I leaped out of the trench and found a shrunken French corpse. Flesh like mouldering fish gleamed greenishly through splits in the shredded uniform..."), killing and being killed, going nowhere. Finally, the Allies are going to break the interminable situation with force majeure. It isn't relief, it is sanity. He lets you know what is going on, revealing cowardice amongst his own troops (he had them shot) and amongst the enemy.

This cold-eyed honesty comprises Junger's style. He was not a soldier by nature. The war drew out the literateur in him and later Fate gave him fame. It is obvious he was a ferocious fighter and natural leader. But the absence of military "feel" reveals his character as what I term the "hibernational warrior" type. That is, the type of man whom danger draws out in total focus and excellence in service of the folk, who fourishes in fighting, often out-performing career professionals -- and who fades back into the mass when the fighting is over. Because Junger had no stomach for lying he could never have gone on to be a "journalist." This is why so few combat veterans make an honest living in that racket. His complexity is obvious. Though he could have flourished also as a career military man his personality was missing a leg. He was not a normal man of high intelligence but a man of high imagination. A normal man is content to throw in with the system; he will work with it, defend it until it doesn't work anymore, then he will back up the fellow who looks most promising to restore order. That is the nature of most men. The creative man, on the other hand, pulls away from the system. Junger might have made an Alexander, a Genghis, or Cortes, but not a Bismarck or Nelson. Junger needed action but as much he needed to create. In the trenches, between combats, he writes in his diary, reads Tristam Shandy and captured English newspapers, and knows his wines.

He is a civilized man -- civilized in a way we do not understand. It is rooted in the last vestiges of chivalry, and I do not misuse the term here. Junger tells of his relations with French civilians. There was apparently no anti-fraternization orders such as what ZOG imposed on its troops occupying Germany in 1945. He rents rooms from French families (he lets you know they are "working class"), dines with them. One almost expects him to imply this was the sentiment between them: "How unfortunate we are at war." But it is not there. One concludes, then, that though interpersonal relations can triumph over the politics of the general, such are not really "triumphs" but minor pools of calm in the great tides of general effects, such as those between peoples. As we know in white resistance, this is instinctual, this yielding to the general rather than hewing to the exception, for if we do not, chaos ensues. Patriotism is then nothing less than the defense of the familiar to prevent the insecurity of competing cultural elements.

All governments today, and all involved in Junger's world, are manipulated by cartels which take advantage of the patriotic instinct. We always are struggling to reconcile our generalizations with our interpersonal relations. And cartels exploit this gray area in us. Yet the greatest leaders pull across lines. One million non-German men volunteered to fight for Adolf Hitler, a fact the jew puppet-masters will never reveal. The pull of charisma, the defense of identity -- these always have warred against each other in all peoples throughout history. Considering this we might wonder, then, if any people can summon the logic to preserve itself against cultural and genetic dissolution. With enough sophistry behind it the question seems valid, but it will not stand against the comfort of the familiar, which always reasserts itself. This amounts to a man's home civilization, that which his ancestors built and left to him. This is a natural law, above time, and rests only on the continuing life-stream, which must maintain itself vigorously. Junger expressed his own like this:

At the sight of the Neckar slopes wreathed with flowering cherry trees, I had a strong sense of having come home. What a beautiful country it was, and eminently worth our blood and our lives. Never before had I felt its charm so clearly, I had good and serious thoughts, and for the first time I sensed that this war was more than just a great adventure.

But Junger could chat over breakfast coffee with the French family that boarded him, and later that day lead a murderous assault against French troops. Why has the line between combatant and non-combatant dissolved? Again, the answer is technology, because the hyper-powerful weapons governments possess today could not be without thousands of civilians in their chain of production, transport, maintenance and funding. Therefore, to break a government means to break the civilians it controls. By this argument we see, then, the logic of BritZOG and USZOG in firebombing Dresden and Hamburg, and nuking Nagasaki and Hiroshima. Governments are responsible and governments are guilty. The situation has become one of rival gangsters clawing each other for control of labor and resources, taxable populations and pools of skills - - under cover of "patriotism." Political states have become nothing but deposits of assets for corporations. Popular sovereignty is a fiction. The U.S. Civil War, and moreso the Great War, were the solidifying acts of the corporate will. The syndrome repeats in every state controlled by the jew/capitalist cartels. Societies are kept in turmoil by media and laws deliberately. These internal wars prime societies for external wars. Hostility, stress and anxiety breed and feed the war machine.

Junger uses the terms "honor," "manliness," "soldierly" and such throughout. Here was the last of the age of the horse, and the advent of the powerful, carbon-burning machine. These men born at the closing of the 19th century had the instincts of struggle imbued by millennia of harshness, instincts which technology now seemed to have made unnecessary. Struggle had been so hard that men reserved a part of themselves to grant mercy lest they sink into total beasts. We of the advanced carbon- burning and electronic era have fewer inhibitions, although we fancy we are humane. Our instincts of restraint have been buried at a good depth by push-button killing.

These men of the 1880s and '90s did not think of the Great War as a "total war," as defined by scholar Samuel Huntington (in 1961) as:

"...a struggle between governments in which at least one aims at the destruction of the other and uses all the means at its disposal to achieve that aim. Under present conditions total war between major powers would involved the use of thermonuclear weapons."

To which we would now add biologicals, which are far more transportable and cheaper to make, and don't destroy wealth-creating infrastructure and plant. We should be watching more for powdery substances and suitcases than rockets.

World War II was a total war. The jew-controlled states under the heel of central control and debt-monetizing sought the destruction of the governments of Japan and Germany, those industrial powers which had turned away from "democratic" systems of internal control and debt-finance capitalism. Capitalist/jew systems must suppress the natural elites of populations; they can do it only by burying the elites under direct voting by the mob. Democracy means class warfare, a boilerplate jew tactic for breaking societies. After the Great War Junger was said to have stated that he hated democracy. A state policy based on eugenics and defense of culture, of the honor of women and support of agriculture and large families, is inimical to the jew/capitalist strategy for world control of resources. Thus, a population weaned off the democracy/ equality myth must be destroyed or broken along with its government.

In the 1920s popular opinion finally compelled the U.S. Senate to open investigations into "war profiteering." The pack of whores did no damage to their paymasters, of course, but the point here is that production capital had reached such efficiency that war had become very big business. Their products had to be "consumed." Thus capital, facilities, media, government and military fused into one organism invested in destruction, and remain so. Its target of the moment is Muslim peoples, with the bonus of cheap or stolen petroleum assets. At the end of the line is the simple rifleman who, know it or not, is a "worker" in this industry. His job is to burn off production. This attitude seeps into the warrior's mentality. In March 1917 German forces withdrew across the Somme. They booby-trapped their former positions and destroyed everything along their line of retreat. Of this Junger writes:

As far back as the Siegfried Line, every village was reduced to rubble, every tree chopped down, every road undermined, every well poisoned, every basement blown or booby-trapped, every rail unscrewed, every telephone wire rolled up, everything burnable burned; in a word, we were turning the country that our advancing opponents would occupy into a wasteland.

As I say, the scenes were reminiscent of a madhouse, and the effect of them was similar: half funny, half repellant. They were also, we could see right away, bad for the men's morale and honour. Here, for the first time, I witnessed wanton destruction that I was later in life to see to excess: this is something that is unhealthily bound up with the economic thinking of our age, but it does more harm than good to the destroyer, and dishonours the soldier.

Some influential men in the warring states understood what was happening, and called for talks to explore an armistice. But governments refused, and we see that soldiers are at the mercy of their political masters. The military does not negotiate the goals it is fighting to achieve. It is a tool of government. Thus warriors for capitalist systems are always betrayed, as we see in the case of Rhodesia and South Africa, and as it will turn out for BritZOG and USZOG troops in the Middle East.

It is seen that Germany is being "out-capitalized" by her opponents. Of the German final offensive (July 1918) Junger writes:

Their advance showed how much the enemy's strength was increasing, supplemented by drafts from every corner of the earth. We had fewer men to set against them, many were little more than boys, and we were short of equipment and training. It was all we could do to plug gaps with our bodies as the tide flooded in. There wasn't the wherewithal for great counter-attacks like Cambrai any more.

and

With every attack, the enemy came forwards with more powerful means; his blows were swifter and more devastating. Everyone knew we could no longer win. But we would stand firm.

It will not do here to recite the appalling statistics from the Great War. But if we keep its main effects in mind we will see our present situation more clearly. If white resistance would win territory from itself and destroy ZOG, its leaders must imagine accurately how its theories will play out in the field. With this in mind I have culled a few more excerpts that might aid our thinking:

It was an odd thing that our apparently confused actions in the depth of the night had had such pronounced and public consequences. We had done our part towards bringing the (enemy) attack, which had begun with such mighty force, to a halt. However colossal the quantities of men and materiel, the work at decisive points had been done by no more than a few handfuls of men.

The high command offered a reward of 30 pfennigs for each enemy propaganda leaflet. The costs were levied on the populations of the occupied territory.

Most of all, I was busy with the training of a small shock troop, since I had come to understand in the course of the last few engagements that there was an increasing rearrangement of our fighting strength in progress. To make an actual breach or advance, there was now only a very limited number of men on whom one might rely, who had developed into a particularly resilient body of fighters, whereas the bulk of the men were at best fit to lend support. Given these circumstances, it might be better to be at the head of a small and determined group than the commander of an uncertain company.

I had got together some kit appropriate to the sort of work I meant to be doing: across my chest, two sandbags, each containing four stick-bombs, impact fuse on the left, delay on the right; in my right tunic pocket an 08 revolver on a long cord, in my right trouser pocket a little Mauser pistol, in my left tunic pocket five egg hand grenades, in the left trouser pocket luminous compass and whistle, in my belt springhooks for pulling out the pins, plus bowie knife and wire cutters. In my inside tunic pocket I carried full wallet with my home address, in my right back pocket, a flat flask of cherry brandy. We had removed shoulder straps and Gibraltar badges, so as to give our opponents no clue as to our regiment...

This release of Storm of Steel by Penguin might have political motives. The Internet has brought out verboten texts and opinions. The media, understanding that the cat's forelegs are out of the bag, might be attempting to divert the public towards less racialist writings of the arch enemy, Germans. ZOG's primary weapon is propaganda, but this is being eroded by the Internet. The war against Aryans by jews and capitalists thus is changing course. The day of 9/11 marks it. No preparations will prove useful without knowledge of history, however. We should start with Storm of Steel.

WILLIAM YATES