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Thread: Books about WW2: Your Recommendations?

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    Books about WW2: Your Recommendations?

    I want to use this topic to recommend books about WW2 and read your recommendations. I will start with five of my favourite books.


    Die Militärstrategie Deutschlands 1940 - 1945. Führungsentschlüsse, Hintergründe, Alternativen.
    by Heinz Magenheimer or in English


    Strategy: The Logic of War and Peace by Edward N. Luttwak (only partly about WW2)


    German Generals Talk
    (Paperback) by Basil H. Hart (my favourite book of all)


    Lexikon fataler Fehlentscheidungen im Zweiten Weltkrieg
    . Von Alpenfestung bis Zitadelle von Hans-Dieter Otto


    Der Zweite Weltkrieg (Gebundene Ausgabe) von Janusz Piekalkiewicz


    "We were never more free than under the German occupation!"

    - Jean-Paul Sartre

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    Exclamation 70 E-Books for DIRECT DOWNLOAD (English)

    Hi, I found a very nice Page with some VERY good e-books. You can download them direct and in PDF format ! Germar Rudolf, David Hoggan, Carlo Mattogno, Adolf Hitler, Fred Leuchter ......and much more must reads.

    Here is the mainlink : http://nsl-forum.net/buecher/books/

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    Re: 70 E-Books for DIRECT DOWNLOAD (English)

    Danke. Mein Kampf ist now mine!

    We must secure the existence of Our Volk and a future for Germanic Children.

  5. #4

    Thomas Goodrich


    2) SUMMER 1945






    "We Americans have the dangerous tendency in our international thinking to take a holier-than-thou attitude toward other nations. We consider ourselves to be more noble and decent than other peoples, and consequently in a better position to decide what is right and wrong in the world. What kind of war do civilians suppose we fought, anyway? We shot prisoners in cold blood, wiped out hospitals, strafed lifeboats, killed or mistreated enemy civilians, finished off the enemy wounded, tossed the dying into a hole with the dead, and in the Pacific boiled the flesh off enemy skulls to make table ornaments for sweethearts, or carved their bones into letter openers.... [W]e mutilated the bodies of enemy dead, cutting off their ears and kicking out their gold teeth for souvenirs, and buried them with their testicles in their mouths.... We topped off our saturation bombing and burning of enemy civilians by dropping atomic bombs on two nearly defenseless cities, thereby setting an all-time record for instantaneous mass slaughter. As victors we are privileged to try our defeated opponents for their crimes against humanity; but we should be realistic enough to appreciate that if we were on trial for breaking international laws, we should be found guilty on a dozen counts. We fought a dishonorable war, because morality had a low priority in battle. The tougher the fighting, the less room for decency, and in Pacific contests we saw mankind reach the blackest depths of bestiality." ---- Edgar Jones, WWII Veteran


    1) HELLSTORM




    It was the most deadly and destructive war in human history. Millions were killed, billions in property was destroyed, ancient cultures were reduced to rubble--World War II was truly man's greatest cataclysm. Thousands of books, movies and documentary films have been devoted to the war. There has never been such a terrible retelling of the story, however, as one will find in Hellstorm. In a chilling "you-are-there" style, the author places the reader at the scene, in the moment. Throughout this book readers will see what Allied airman saw as they rained down death on German cities; or the reader will experience what those below experienced as they sat trembling in their bomb shelters awaiting that very same death from above. The reader will view up close the horrors of the Eastern Front during the last months of fighting and through the mud, blood and madness of combat they may come to understand how the same German soldiers, who only moments before had destroyed an enemy tank, could now risk their own lives to rescue the trapped Soviet crew inside. Readers will witness for themselves the fate of German women as the rampaging Red Army raped and murdered its way across Europe--all females, from "eight to eighty" feared the dreaded words, "Frau Komm." The worst nautical disasters in history which claimed thousands of lives, the greatest mass migration known to man in which millions perished, the fate of those wretched victims in post-war death camps and torture chambers, these and many other dark secrets of World War II now come to light in Hellstorm.


    .


    Best choice and value at
    .


    One book on WW II - it has to be HELLSTORM.

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  7. #5

    SUMMER 1945 Thomas Goodrich



    EPILOGUE



    When it comes to propaganda, we suspected our enemies of it, but we never figured we were using propaganda. We felt our country was too honest to use propaganda on us, and we honestly were not conscious that they were.



    So wrote Katherine Phillips, an American Red Cross worker during World War II. Hardly concealed in Katherine’s words written long after the war, is the fear, the dread fear, that perhaps the “inhuman evil” her generation was told a thousand times over during four years of war may not have been so evil or so inhuman after all. Just as with every other war known to man, World War II had also been a war of words, a war of poisonous words: a war of deceit, treachery, hate, and lies in which trusting unsuspecting people were lashed once again into a frenzy of murderous madness by outrageously vicious and vile propaganda. True, some angry words are perhaps necessary in times of war to awaken and impassion the indifferent among us to work and strive to win a contest; but equally true, some of that same propaganda, in the hands of evil men with evil agendas, sitting safely behind desks far removed from danger, contribute to outright murder of the most cruel and cold blooded kind, encourage rape on a massive, historical scale, add to the agonizing death by fire of uncounted millions of women and children, and engender enough hate, misery and pain to make a planet groan.



    Three, five, even ten years after the war, the Allies in Europe began to open up their prisons and close their slave camps and those rare German soldiers who had somehow survived their brutal captivity were allowed to enter railroad boxcars and leave for the West. With no home or family to return to any longer some joined the French Foreign Legion. More emigrated to North or South America. Most, however, like beaten dogs returning each night to the porch of their suffering because it was all they knew, most merely returned to die in the place of their birth.



    “But the cargo those trains carried,” observed one horrified witness. “Starved, emaciated skeletons; human wrecks convulsed with dysentery due to lack of foods: gaunt figures with trembling limbs, expressionless gray faces, and dim eyes.”



    “Oh great God! How miserable can it get?” asked Ruth Andreas-Friedrich one day from Berlin.



    “Sometimes when walking through the streets, one can barely stand to look at all the misery. Among the smart American uniforms, the well-fed figures in the occupying forces, the first German soldiers appear ragged and haggard, sheepishly looking around like caught offenders. Prisoners of war from who knows where. They drag themselves through the streets. Seeing them one wants to look away because one feels so ashamed of their shame, of their wretched pitiful looks . . . They stumble around like walking ruins. Limbless, invalid, ill, deserted and lost. A grey-bearded man in a tattered uniform leans against a wall. With his arms around his head he is quietly weeping. People pass by, stop and shyly form a circle around him. He does not see them.”



    And what of the others? What of those few Germans who escaped the Allied torture pens with their lives? What of those survivors? These men, women and children were no more “survivors” than those who were beaten to death with stools or those who were drowned in outdoor latrines or those who were buried alive in coffins. Sadly many of those who found loved ones yet alive after the war realized too late it would have been far, far better had they discovered them dead.



    Overwhelmed with excitement by the news, Regina Shelton rushed into a village tavern one day in “breathless expectation” of finding her father, who everyone had given up for dead. Suddenly the woman froze in her tracks:

    I see a lonely figure . . . He sits at the table by the tile stove where the regulars used to have their friendly card games and mugs of beer. He sits without moving, and I am struck motionless by the sight. Now and then the breeze from the open window touches him and makes him shiver as if from an icy wind. The only sign of life is a steady rivulet out of the corner of one eye, tracing a shiny line along the parchment nose and joining the saliva that drools from the slack, half open mouth. The hairless skull hangs low on his chest, arms dangle between his wide-spread legs, and a drop from his chin falls at regular intervals between them on the floor. Except for the drip and the chill that trembles through him occasionally, he resembles a broken statue, with rags tossed over its ragged edges . . . Sunken eyes glisten feverishly in their hollows, glazed, vacant, dead. Like a scarecrow bleached by sun, wind and rain, the figure is of an indefinable colour, skin and rags blending to an ashen gray.


    The greeting was frozen on my lips. What is there to say to a man who seems no longer human? Whose instincts, surly, more than conscious decision have carried the remains of his body to the place where he used to be a man? Who lights like a homing pigeon on the very spot that was his point of departure into regions beyond nightmare? In an irrational reversal of my earlier thoughts, I tiptoe by him, no longer wishing the man to be my father . . .


    In the kitchen, the others are huddled in a helpless hush, not knowing how to approach this intruder from the nether-world who has given them no sign of being aware of where he is or who they are. Mia is also out of her mind and without a clue how to cope with the repulsive creature who is her husband . . . His obvious state of near starvation at last gets Mia’s practical mind working. She carries a bowl of steaming soup to him. When she comes back, she whispers, horror stricken: “ He can’t even eat anymore. You should have seen him sinking his whole face into the soup and slurping it, not even using a spoon. And he kept trying to drink it while it was coming back up. It’s terrible”



    Similar accounts could be spoken about Japan, of men living like wild beasts for years, even decades, after the war, still afraid to come out from their island hideaways and be tortured and killed and mutilated as their friends were; of thousands of survivors from the fire-bombing and atomic attacks who had melted like wax, but somehow survived, only to spend the rest of their days as hideous freaks whose faces terrified children and adults alike.



    The statistical results of World War II were devastating. Nations, ancient cultures, wiped from the face of the earth, billions upon billions of dollars of public and private property, including irreplaceable works of art stolen or simply destroyed, tens of millions of men, women and children killed in battles, bombing raids or by outright murder . . . The statistics from the world’s worst war are staggering. But what of the others? What of those casualties who fail to fall into neat rows of precise facts and figures? What of them? Although she may have survived physically how does a German or Japanese female go back to being a normal person again after the shame of rape? How does a German school teacher return to her role of being a simple school teacher the following day, the following year, or forever, after her entire class was forced to watch one afternoon while a hundred laughing Mongolians stood in line for oral sex, one after the other? Or how does a Japanese wife and mother go back to being a normal wife and mother after her husband and children were present when a dozen Americans gang raped and sodomized her one night on the floor of her home? Or how does a ten-year-old German or Japanese child grow up to lead a normal life, or play, or pretend, to dream, to fall in love, to marry, to have children of her own, how is it possible when her first sexual acts were violent, savage, painful and continued for hours, days, even weeks?



    The answer to all the above are of course, never. Although these victims may have physically survived the war, the war killed them spiritually just as thoroughly, just as certainly as any bomb, bullet or bayonet.



    “It has shaped my life as a woman,” whispered one victim of gang rape. “I have promised myself to stay alone.”



    As a fifteen-year-old virgin who was sexually assaulted repeatedly for weeks, one elderly women long after the war no doubt spoke for millions of rape victims.



    “I live with what happened to me . . ,” confessed the lady. “There are days I cannot eat because of it, now all these years later . . . I cannot even say that word.”



    And yes, even “all these years later,” even the young victimizers, those who committed such terrible atrocities against helpless women and children, even they found they were now new victims of a sort, the victims of sleep startling, nightmarish memories, of the daily, nonstop torture of their own awakened souls.



    We were young, strong, and four years without women. So we tried to catch German women and . . . ten men raped one girl. There were not enough women; the entire population run from the Soviet Army. So we had to take young, twelve or thirteen-year-old. If she cried, we put something into her mouth. We thought it was fun. Now I cannot understand how I did it. A boy from a good family . . .





    from the book:
    SUMMER 1945 Thomas Goodrich P 245 – 249.
    13 III 2021.

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    Behemoth the Structure and Practice of National Socialism, which was written before the war ended.
    https://www.amazon.com/Behemoth-Stru.../dp/B001AMHIRA

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    I recommend reading Elie Wiesel's novel "Night". I have a very strong impression in my soul after reading this work. The horrors of Jews who were driven from one concentration camp to another are described very briefly, but very succinctly.

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    Quote Originally Posted by KayBur View Post
    I recommend reading Elie Wiesel's novel "Night". I have a very strong impression in my soul after reading this work. The horrors of Jews who were driven from one concentration camp to another are described very briefly, but very succinctly.
    Lol. I don't think this thread is about fiction.

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    This is not fiction. This is a biographical story about a man who visited Auschwitz in his childhood and described all the horrors he experienced. I don't think there is fiction here. Or don't you believe in the horrors of concentration camps?

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    In his own words he claims to have literally escaped death on a daily basis at Buchenwald by always being “in the last hundred”. He had a net worth of more than $5 million. And even the serious pro-Holocaust institutes don’t push the myth that babies were tossed into burning pits of fire alive, lol.
    If only you knew how bad things really are

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