In Memoriam: John Amery
by Michael Walsh
ON December 19, 1945, a 33-year old British-born Spanish national, John Amery, was illegally hanged at London’s grim Victorian Wandsworth Prison. It was the end of a life but the beginning of a legend.
Had Amery, the son of a British government minister, served a prison sentence few would have heard of him. Posterity decided otherwise; here was the making of a British martyr whose name would one day surely grace boulevards and parks named in his honour.
Born March 14, 1912, John Amery was baptised in the crypt of the House of Commons and educated at Harrow. Like Eton, the public school was favoured by the English elite.
To keep their place in the class system’s pecking order, England’s political and aristocratic cabal collaborated with Jewish oligarchs.
John Amery was having none of that. Turning his back on the hedonistic lifestyle of his class, Amery first went to France and then, in 1936, onward to Spain. There the Englishman fought on the side of the Nationalists against Moscow-backed “Republicans.” Amery fought on the front-lines with distinction.
In 1943, despairing of Britain’s war against the Democratic Reich, John Amery opted for service with Hitler’s Germany. One has to remember that in 1943 Britain had not experienced an elected government for eleven years. Unlike Adolf Hitler, Britain’s Prime Minister Winston Churchill was never elected to lead the country in that capacity.
From Germany, John Amery broadcast regularly — as did many Europeans. There was a common theme in all such broadcasts: the desperate need for peace between Germany and Britain, and the necessity to form an alliance against Bolshevik-occupied Russia. Whilst in Germany, John Amery was pivotal in setting up the League of St. George. The League, after the Englishman’s departure for Italy, became the British Free Corps.
By the time of Britain’s alliance with the USSR, it is estimated that at least 30 million Russians and Central Europeans had been slaughtered, starved, or worked to their death by the Jewish Bolsheviks. New York’s bowler-hatted Bolshevik bankers in 1917 had invested in the overthrow of Tsar Nicholas II and the government of Imperial Russia. The Bolshevik megacaust proceeded from the so-called ‘Russian Revolution’ — so similar to more recent American-inspired “regime change.”
From 1922, America’s and Britain’s major corporations threw their industrial clout into the “opportunities” offered by the world’s largest slave population. Amery and his associates decided that they had no wish to live under race traitors or to endure a hand-to-mouth existence in a Jewish-controlled world.
Following the defeat of the Axis powers, John Amery was taken into custody. Transferred in irons to London, the Englishman knew that his ‘trial’ was to be no different from the notorious Soviet show trials.
The martyr’s fate was sealed; all that was necessary before his ritual hanging was a little court theatre for the duped peoples of England. Standing in the dock and facing his accusers John Amery proudly accepted all eight charges levelled at him; his ‘trial’ lasted just eight-minutes.
Shortly after 9 a.m. on December 19, 1945, the condemned man took his final steps to the prison’s execution chamber. There the young man was pinioned, hooded, and placed on the trapdoor. Albert Pierrepoint, Britain’s notorious executioner, pulled the apparatus lever.
When Pierrepoint retired he had taken the lives of 680 condemned prisoners, more than many of Stalin’s henchmen. Of those hanged, he executed over 200 German prisoners of war. The hangman described Amery as ‘the bravest man I ever met.’
Any hope that in doing so John Amery’s memory was sent to oblivion was a futile hope. John Amery is today far better recognised and honoured — certainly better remembered — than any who betrayed him and sent him to the gallows.
Clearly, Leo Amery, John’s father, was in no doubt as to his son’s nobility. It must have occurred to him that his son was far more deserving of the accolade “nobleman” than any of the parasites perched along the seats of England’s second chamber. Afterwards, his father wrote the condemned martyr’s epitaph:
EPITAPH TO JOHN AMERY
At end of wayward days he found a cause,
‘Twas not his country’s — only time can tell,
If that defiance of our ancient laws,
Was treason or foreknowledge. He sleeps well.
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