My Friend, The Waffen SS Soldier, part 1
Part One: A Brief Introduction
I WAS FORTUNATE ENOUGH to have had a dear friend for some five years who was a retired veteran of the Waffen SS Wiking division: His name was Theodor Junker. He was born in a German village in Romania, and he retired on a small farm in southern Wisconsin.
From the years of 2005 through 2010 I visited him every weekend.
He was a surprisingly humble person, so much so that it humbled you just to be in his presence. He had a quiet tone of voice, yet he was not shy about speaking. He talked a great deal, and talked about a great many number of things. But mostly he loved to talk about Nature, and all of her various forms. Yes, he spoke often of the War, and he spoke often of Adolf Hitler, National-Socialism, and of the Reich. He also spoke of the Jews and the Aryans. But he was far from the Jewish-conjured image of a stereotypical “Nazi.”
Herr Junker loved all things Nature, particularly that which pertained to human health. His primary passion for employment was always farming, agriculture: he raised and sold chickens (mostly for eggs) and pigs mostly. In his later years he raised and sold ducks as a hobby (I can’t tell you how ridiculously difficult it is to round up a flock of ducks from a pond with paddle boat and three shirtless yahoos running around flapping their arms). So, naturally, his love of farming eventually translated into a passion for human health: What is the most natural way of human eating. He was also very fond of Nature’s “secret” medicines (he literally ate whole cloves of garlic, raw, after he spent years of studying their health benefits).
His love and passion for natural holistic health was also very strongly motivated by the death of his wife, who was taken by cancer.
Theo was always happy, even on a bad day: Nothing ever brought that guy’s spirits down. There were times when he would be recounting an age-old story about the War, about the struggles and suffering that he endured on the battlefield of the Eastern Front against the Russian Bolsheviks/Marxists, and he would beam with a youthful joy: the color would rush to his face, he would smile widely, and laugh heartily, and he would glow. His energy was palpable even in his most humble moments. The only time that Theo grew serious was when recounting his years in British captivity after the war, being driven from his village after captivity (the Russians took his village and basically gave it to Jews and Communists — some 17 million Germans were driven from their homes in various countries), or telling of how badly the Russians treated the Germans.
What would probably surprise people the most was how Theo talked about the Jews — which he did talk about often. He would always tell me (and I mean always), in his thick German accent, “Be glad ven you have enemies.” That was one of his mottos, and he would elaborate this motto at length, in great detail. He told me that without enemies we become soft, we grow complacent, and he even blamed senility on the absence of mental combat. He said that having opponents keeps you sharp mentally and keeps you young physically. He said that without his anti-NS opponents over the years, he would have been reduced to senility many years ago (I met him when he was 85 or 86 years old). So he literally thanked the Jews for being so vehemently anti-NS: He said that the stronger your enemy is, the greater was your potential for increase of strength: Weak enemies ensured weak people.
He praised the Jews for being such a powerful enemy, because they would guarantee that only the most powerful Aryans would survive, and thus strengthen our people.
He likened Jews to foxes, not for their cleverness, but simply for their natural place in the grand scheme of life. Since there were always geese on the pond on his property, he would say, “The Jews are like the foxes: they make sure that the geese do not become overpopulated and get sick. If the geese overpopulate, they will get sick, and then possibly all of them will die. But if the foxes catch and kill the weak ones, the flock will remain healthy.” He thought that Jews were only a part of Nature, and his sentiments toward them were stoic. However, Theo never, under any circumstances, trusted Jews. I can still hear him now, talking about them being a race of liars, as casually as one might talk about cows having spots.
Theo Junker built the once-famous Honorary Hall for Adolf Hitler on his farm, which made major headlines in the summer of 2006. Sadly, the powers-that-be put every last ounce of pressure on him to make sure that his dream was crushed before it began: They made it illegal for him to have more than four people on his property at all times — including himself. His property was 120 acres large, and could accommodate thousands, and yet they passed a law saying that he could only have himself and three guests there at any time — including family reunions (any liberal reading this, just try telling me that the system favors Neo-“Nazis”…).
For years afterward, whenever I would visit, there would be FBI helicopters that would occasionally fly over the property, lower themselves to the tree line and take the time to count the number of people that they could see. Once during one of these fly-overs, I was taking my friend’s two children for a swim in the pond, and I can remember them being rather terrified and just looking at me, with horror in their eyes, wondering what was happening. I told them that it was just people flying over taking pictures of the farm, like lots of people used to do. It was sickening.
Theo was a great guy all around. Things were always casual at his place. Most of my days there with him involved nothing formal or professional. We’d sit in the back on the little sandy beach on the pond that he had paid to have built, our toes in the sand, just yammering about his life in the United States.
Theo started off as a janitor in Chicago, and saved up to buy the farm in southern Wisconsin. He moved there and had four children. They used the property as a summer camp for other German families (until his wife passed away), and so I heard all kinds of neat little stories about how they spent their time. I heard stories about unique children that he remembered vividly. He told me how within the first week he could tell who the leaders were. He’d say, “In Nature, there vill alvays be two leaders: a good leader and a bad leader. And there vill alvays be two groups of people: those who follow the good leader, and those who follow the bad.” He said that he would sit back and watch them, and every year it was the same thing: Two groups of kids would form: the good kids, and the trouble-makers.
Theo was wounded a total of six times during the war, and some of them severe. He once took a Russian grenade blast directly between his legs. It landed several feet in front of him and went off before he could even run. He then had to take an eight hour train ride to a hospital capable of sewing his manhood back together. He said that they had to tie it off with string, which drove him insane, because for the entire eight hours he had to urinate. It was a nightmare. And yet, the guy managed to have four children. Apparently those German doctors really knew what they were doing.
Theo would do anything for you if you needed it. I can say with certainty that he was the most generous person I have ever met. He offered strangers the bed of his own room, while he would sleep on his couch. People came from all over the world to visit him, and I was fortunate enough to be there and give tours of the property alongside my dear friend. He would invite them to camp at his place and stay for weeks on end. He always said, “Dis is de best place in de vorld.” And if they did want to stay, he’d let them stay in his own home and dine with him at his own table. Many times, while Theo was napping in the afternoon, I would be given the honor of giving the usual tour of the Monument to curious guests. I felt honored that Theo would let me handle the show while he was out of town or napping.
I know this is a bit of an aimless recounting of the years with my friend of the Waffen SS, so I will stop rambling for now. But if anyone has any specific questions, I’d be glad to answer them as thoroughly as I am able.
But I will end this by saying that Theo Junker remained loyal to Adolf Hitler and to National-Socialism until the last time that I saw him in 2010. He never once questioned his years of service in the struggle for Germany against Bolshevism on the Eastern Front, and he never questioned the NS worldview or its immortal Leader. He loved Adolf Hitler dearly and said that he was an SS until he died. Even during the years of threats of violence that ensued after his grand opening of the Adolf Hitler Honorary Hall he never questioned anything. He never feared the countless death threats that poured in daily. He always said, “I’m a soldier. I’ll die for this.”
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Source: Nature and Race Archive