A merry fighting song

Typing this, I look forward to seeing what happens in Warsaw on November 11, the day that over the past several years saw Poland’s Independence Day march grow into the largest and best organized pan-European nationalist celebration event in all of the West.

Meanwhile, I discovered this song. It is performed every August 1st on the anniversary of the start of the 1944 Warsaw Uprising. It’s part of the annual “Forbidden Songs” concert, featuring songs that were illegal under the German occupation as resistance anthems, and later under Communism because the Armia Krajowa (Home Army) resistance was considered fascist by the Communists. Here is a performance of one such song last year:

It is titled “Pałacyk Michla”, or Michler’s Palace, named after the landmark building around which the song’s author was involved in combat. It was written during the 1944 Uprising by Home Army soldier Józef Szczepański, internet handle pseudonim “Ziutek.”

Who won World War II? In a way, Poland did. Though the victory came with a price, not in the least the ten years of Judeo-Stalinist terror after the war. Yet post-war Poland’s borders were restored very closely to what they were at the country’s founding in 966 AD; her population went from as low as only about 65% ethnically Polish in some regions before the war to entirely homogeneous and it almost doubled from 1945 to 1990. Poland was spared the Cultural Marxist indoctrination that the “free world” got soaked in, along with the mass immigration. Faith was strengthened, rather than weakened.

I told someone in 2001, and this person thought I was crazy: “Today everyone goes on about what we can learn from the West. But in twenty years it’ll be, what can the West learn from us?

I translated the lyrics below… some of the ’40s era slang might be inexactly rendered but it should be close enough. The lyrics are very much in the playful street-vernacular of its time. The best part is just watching the video and seeing no Diversity, just a lot of people of all looks and ages having a good time under the magnificent Cross. You can even catch glimpses of aged Uprising veterans in the audience. Nobody coerced any of those people to be there, many with their kids way past their bed time. Entirely apropos are this week’s words of Millennial Woes:

Even now, the progressive elites have to hide their true beliefs from the public. We don’t. We can be very honest with the public because we are not opposed to the public. We do not despise the public. We are not trying to betray, trick, replace, or destroy the public. [link]

The August 1st concert is not some mandatory-attendance Communist pep rally. It’s the genuine will of the people in its robust, joyful, collective, and unadulterated expression.

Michler’s Palace

Michler’s palace, Żytnia Street, Wola district
Umbrella Battalion boys defend them
They set their traps for Tiger tanks
They are Varsovians, handsome lads!

Refrain after every verse, x2
Be alert boys, keep your senses sharp
Flex your young spirit, work in double-time!

And every gent wants to get wounded
’cause the field nurses – they’re pretty gals
And should a bullet hit you
Ask one – she’ll give you a kiss – hey!

Behind us, it’s the logistics
Various supporters, assorted helpers
They cook the soup, they boil black coffee
That’s how they fight for the cause – hey!

Our top brass is awesome too
They’re in the combat zone with us
And the coolest of the officers
Is our own “Miecio” with his bad haircut – hey!

Our boys are fighting, our boys are singing
The Krauts are fuming, their faces livid
They try their tricks
They keep sending us their rockets – hey!

But their rockets and grenades are for naught
They get their hides tanned
And every day the moment’s closer
To victory! back to a civilian life – hey!

The moral of the song: you too can start your 75-year-long folk festival project.

August 1st

If all of the memory of human history were to be wiped out but for one event, the one event that ought to be remembered forever would be… on the short list is the 1944 Warsaw Uprising. (As distinct from the Ghetto uprising of one year earlier). Sixty three days of asymmetrical urban combat to save their home from the twin foulness of foreign occupation and Communist juggernaut. It was a tremendous, and on its face futile, sacrifice. Then perhaps by the winding path of divine grace, a rebirth.

Retired colonel Kazimierz Klimczak is the oldest living veteran of the Warsaw Uprising. From the interview he gave last year at age 105:

KLIMCZAK: I go to schools and sometimes discuss things with young people. They ask me, “If there were a mobilization, don’t you think that we would also take up arms?”

JOURNALIST: Would they? Do you think they’d fight?

KLIMCZAK: Yes, they would because dire circumstances bring us together.

The anniversary of the outbreak of the insurgency is commemorated with a minute of silence to the howl of air-raid sirens when the clock strikes 5:00 PM every August 1st. This nonverbal PSA honors the living veterans of the Warsaw Uprising. In that story, two elderly veterans can’t make it to their Armia Krajowa (Home Army) combatants reunion but younger generations step in to make something nice happen.

The subtext is about the continuity of blood. The younger characters recognized themselves in these old heroes, just from a different time and living under different circumstances.

What makes those short films such a big deal?

The late filmmaker Krysztof Kieślowski sought to understand the relationship between liberal western Europe and post-Communist eastern Europe and how those two halves make a whole. He saw, in the West’s liberalism, seeds of self-destruction, most vividly depicted in Blue. But he also recognized the lineaments of human kindness behind that impulse. Red shined a light on that. A softer quality like a balm to soothe man during those quiet moments in history. Simple acts of recycling had their flashes of approval in his films.

The big deal about these short films on YouTube? Free men have use their public institutions as an extension of them, so they make videos and memes openly. Unfree men, ones whose public institutions, including their governments, hate them and want them to die do their creative work anonymously. They know that their very breath is illegal.

The other video, the one at the end of this post, features a series of young people (theater students, is my guess) reading fragments of didactic poems written by three different insurgents during the ’44 Uprising. At 1:25, a girl recites:

The soldiers went forth, brave and young, no rifles
Against the tanks armed with bottles of petrol

A young man continues:

They’ll get their rifles
They stood up to Panzer divisions
And for that history’ll repay them.

Imagine no diversity tokens. These students do no less than affirm their very right to exist. They assert their claim on their past and their future. And they do this with the support of their public institutions — universities, national remembrance organizations, and on up to their government’s ministry of culture.

“They’ll get their rifles”

The Home Army was well armed in pre-war military equipment and homemade small arms. Błyskawica (“lightning”) is the famous submachine gun sometimes seen in historic photos. Approximately 700 were made in private shops during the Occupation. It fired 9×19 mm Parabellum rounds from its 32-round magazine at maximum rate of 600 per minute and with 200-meter effective range.


Błyskawica fired by a Home Army soldier in the Warsaw Uprising

What is the point of these homages to a historic event?

Nobody, be it in Poland or the United States or anywhere else, would bother with making identitarian propaganda if this something weren’t in the air right now. A gut-understanding that something wants us destroyed and the Third World is its weapon. It’s just that in Poland, the state and its institutions are an extension of patriots, not their enemy.

About the video below. This is the natural way of young Europeans when times become dire. Men take the lead in affirming the higher ideals. The women are beautiful and feel safe at home supporting their men’s idealism. What you don’t see is hedonism and rebellion against tradition. Those are universal temptations of youth but without Jewish control of national institutions, they don’t metastasize into full-blown Leftism.

If you’re a nationalist of any background, your heart will beat faster. If you’re anti-White, you’ll fear their attitude as fascist:

The Oldest Living Insurgent

The 1944 Warsaw Uprising (not to be confused with the smaller Warsaw Ghetto Uprising one year earlier) took place 74 years ago. Today marks the anniversary of its collapse, 63 days after Zero Hour.

Kazimierz Klimczak (pseudonym “Szron,” or Frost) is the oldest living insurgent. He is a career soldier: rank of Sergeant during the Uprising and a commissioned officer post-war, retired as Colonel. Below are excerpts from his recent interview with a journalist, a pleasant young woman.

It’s fascinating to me to hear a participant in a historic event tell his story to an audience, of which most of whom weren’t even born until half-a-century or more after those events. There is inevitably a gap between their recollections and the filtered history learned by the subsequent generations. Some of us, or our children, might live to the age of 105 and keep a sharp mind. Will society tell a partly-false narrative, in good faith or otherwise, about things we remember differently? In fifty or seventy years, how will we talk about the Trump election or what we did during the events of 2019?

Transcript of the above video, my translation:

KLIMCZAK: I’m 105 years old, I can walk, I remember everything. I read without glasses and my hearing is good. First, I was a “criminal.” Then I was a “lackey of the London government.” And now, I’m a “hero.” The most loyal soldiers I had was during the Warsaw Uprising. I tell you, Miss, [chokes up] so many were killed.

JOURNALIST: Those were brave boys. They were boys, right?

KLIMCZAK: The oldest was 23 years old. Most of them were 17 or 18 years old. One was twelve. He’d run through alleyways, bringing me field reports. Those young people, they said: “This is our courtyard, this is our house and we will defend it.” I told them, “This is my creed: God, Honor, Fatherland — with those words we go to battle.” And that’s why we were a good unit.

My orders were to take charge of a street barricade. But it was in poor shape… some junk, a wardrobe, a dresser and such. So I went to the buildings on that street and told all of the people living there, “Listen, we have to make it stronger. It’s your security and mine.” So they carried down their refrigerators, washing machines. Laid dirt on it, and built that barricade.

JOURNALIST: Was it the Działdowska Street barricade?

KLIMCZAK: Yes, Działdowska. I even slept at the barricade. They brought me soup, bran pancakes,

JOURNALIST: Those were people you became close with. When they were dying, you had to come to terms with that.

KLIMCZAK: It hurt. Sometimes I couldn’t sleep. The worst was burying the fallen.

JOURNALIST: They were buried wherever it was possible?

KLIMCZAK: They were buried in parks, wherever. Today’s youth doesn’t appreciate this. But you should pray for the insurgents because they gave their lives. If people had been opposed to the Uprising, it would have been bad. But none were against it, everyone was steadfast. They shared food, they shared everything. “Luśka” (pseudonym) brought me supplies.

She was killed. Ripped in two. Luśka was my messenger. She’d bring me pancakes, cooked vegetables. I ordered my men to bury her with her body put back together. They tore off the sidewalk panels, dug a hole and covered her with sand. Luśka …  No, no, I don’t want to keep on talking because I have dreams at night about those things. Sometimes I don’t sleep because I see those images.

I saved a German once. He surrendered his pistol to me, he said in Polish “I swear I didn’t kill anyone, I was just firing into the air.”

JOURNALIST: Was that Mr. Janeczko, the half-Pole half-German whom you saved?

KLIMCZAK: Yes, Janeczko, he was a building contractor. I told my chief, “Let’s put him in the cellar, he’ll peel potatoes there.” I later tried to find him in Germany.

JOURNALIST: You weren’t able to?

KLIMCZAK: I wasn’t… People were so united during the Uprising. I never met a person back then who told me that the Uprising is unnecessary, but now that’s what’s being said. But had the Uprising never happened, you wouldn’t be here, I wouldn’t be here.

JOURNALIST: Colonel, when did you finally feel that Poland is free?

KLIMCZAK: I felt it back then, when young people stood together as one.

JOURNALIST: Really? During the Uprising?

KLIMCZAK: [Smiling] Yes. It was a different Poland. It was a generation that was raised in the spirit of the 120-year Partitions. My best commanding officer was “Hal.” He called me in before he was killed and said “My friend, if you survive the war, speak at schools.” And so I go to schools and sometimes discuss things with young people. They ask me, “If there were a mobilization, don’t you think that we would also take up arms?”

JOURNALIST: Would they? Do you think they’d fight?

KLIMCZAK: Yes, they would because dire circumstances bring us together. Poland is united in times of hardship but afterwards, everyone just goes off and looks out for himself.

End of transcript

Although the Warsaw Uprising was an apocalyptic event that resulted in the murder of an estimated 150,000 – 200,000 civilians and the compete destruction of the city, combat operations weren’t one-sided in one respect: combatant casualties. Specifically, the combined numbers of killed, missing and wounded is at approximately 20,200 for Armia Krajowa insurgents vs. 24,000 casualties suffered by German armed forces.

Klimczak gave a very long interview in 2013 (in Polish). It gives a vivid picture of things day-to-day. I’ll translate a few excerpts from it in the next post.

UPDATE: I translated portions of this fascinating and well-told personal account.]

White Eagle

Warszawskie dzieci, pójdziemy w bój
(“Warsaw’s children, we go to fight”)


Today is the 74th anniversary of the outbreak of the Warsaw Uprising, which was organized by the Home Army (Armia Krajowa) resistance movement and which lasted from August 1st to October 2nd, 1944.

[UPDATE: This post is about the general Warsaw uprising in 1944, not the Warsaw ghetto uprising of 1943.]

Zero Hour is commemorated at 1700 hrs local time every August 1st with one-minute’s howl of air-raid sirens to mark the start of the insurrection.

There is nothing new under the sun and there already was a Generation Zyklon. No, they didn’t gas anyone, but they fought like warriors to take back their city. And they won — seven decades later, the city belongs to them. There is special lore about the kids who took part in the 1944 Warsaw Uprising. Boys as young as ten fought as riflemen, boys and girls served as nurses’ aides, barricade builders, and couriers who navigated through sewer tunnels.

Between its walls, a constant stream of citizens and freedom fighters made their perilous, just perilous, sprints. They ran across that street, they ran through that street, they ran under that street — all to defend this city. “The far side was several yards away,” recalled one young Polish woman named Greta. That mortality and that life was so important to her. In fact, she said, “The mortally dangerous sector of the street was soaked in the blood. It was the blood of messengers, liaison girls, and couriers.” — President Donald Trump (Warsaw, July 2017)

Through the duration of the war, Home Army (AK) conspirators knew each other only by pseudonyms so that in an event of capture and interrogation, real names wouldn’t be revealed. After the collapse of national defense forces in 1939 in which my grandfather was a lieutenant, he continued his commission in the AK. His gravestone at a veterans’ cemetery shows his rank and pseudonym. He and I talked briefly about the war in January 1997. That was the only time I saw him in my adulthood.

A haunting song by Natalia Sikora, called “White Eagle,” salutes the 11-year-old Wojtek Zaleski (ps. “White Eagle”), who distinguished himself in action in the 1944 Warsaw Uprising.

Orzeł Biały / White Eagle

Na ulicy w powstańczej Warszawie / On the streets of the Warsaw Uprising ’44
Sprzedawano blaszane Orzełki / Little tin eagles were sold
Zanim dziecko Virtuti dostanie / Before a child gets his Virtuti Militari
Niech Orzełkiem na czapce się cieszy / Let him enjoy the eagle on his cap

Nie chciał nikt żeby dzieci walczyły / Nobody wanted the children to fight
Nie chciał nikt by co dnia umierały / Nobody wanted them to die each day
Lecz powstrzymać ich nikt nie miał siły / But nobody could hold them back
Same sobie broń zdobyć umiały / They knew how to get weapons

Ile Orłów sprzedano zbyt tanio? / How many Eagles were sold too cheaply?
Ile Orłów sprzedano zbyt drogo… / How many Eagles were sold too dearly…
Cena prawdą umarłych zostanie… / Only the fallen know the price …
Żywi z bólu rozliczyć się mogą… / The living can settle out their sorrow …

Na powstańczej kronice zostały / The insurgency chronicles show
Zdjęcia chłopca co poległ na Ciepłej / Photos of a boy who fell on Ciepła Street
Jedenaście miał lat Orzeł Biały! / Eleven years old, was White Eagle
A nazywał się Wojtuś Zaleski / His name was Wojtek Zaleski

W Chrobrym dwa każdy Orła doceniał / On 2 Chrobry Street, all hailed the Eagle
Umiał przejść wszystkie linie niemieckie / He knew how to pass all the German lines
Wyprowadził bez strat z okrążenia / He led the “Grześ” group with no losses
Grupę ”Grzesia” – znał drogi bezpieczne / Past the encirclement — he knew the safe routes

[Refrain x2]

Potem poległ i Tygrys i Magik / Then Tiger and Magician [pseudonyms] fell
I tysiące z tych co nie walczyły / And thousands of those who did not fight
Umierały też dzieci Warszawy / Also died the children of Warsaw
Które Matki szaleńczo chroniły / Whom mothers fervently shielded

Orzeł Biały miał grób na Ceglanej / White Eagle had a grave on Ceglana Street
W bramie była Maryi figurka / Virgin Mary watched from the gate
Krzyż Virtuti przyznany zostanie / The Virtuti Cross will be awarded
Wszystkim Dzieciom z Naszego Podwórka / To all of the children from our courtyard

The back-story of Wojtek Zaleski:

Battle trail
Downtown North. The youngest soldier in the assault group of Master Sergeant “Grześ.” He served in the unit from the start of the Uprising and earned the admiration of the older soldiers when on August 2, 1944 he passed through German lines to the area of the heavily guarded Main Railway Station. After three hours of observation, he returned with a report on manpower, weapons and the organization of enemy units. On August 15, taking routes known only to him, he guided his platoon out of encirclement. For this action, his battalion commander Captain “Lech Grzybowski” nominated him for the Cross of Valor.

Place of death
He died in the area of the police barracks on Ciepła Street while carrying a report from MSgt “Grześ.” His body was pulled from the rubble under German fire. That action was immortalized by insurgents’ film crew [See link above for still images under “Zobacz Galerię” – PA]. The field burial of “White Eagle” took place in the courtyard at Ceglana Street 3.


A short tribute to the living veterans of the Uprising:

“Warszawskie Dzieci”

This post is about nationalism (which in contemporary context is synonymous with patriotism: love of family and belief in a future), as well as a look at the 1944 marching song “Warsaw’s Children” and Laibach’s creative reinterpretation of the original. If you recall the post titled Zero Hour a month ago, it marked the August 1, 1944 outbreak of the Warsaw Uprising. The campaign lasted 63 days and Warsaw fell on October 2, 1944.

In a time when national monuments in America and Sweden are torn down, the sight of healthy people openly honoring their heroes, freely in their own public space and in a peaceful relationship with the state, is aspirational.

“Taking migrants would do more damage to Poland than European Union’s sanctions… Remember that the now very numerous Muslim communities (in Western European countries) started out as relatively small numbers.”
— Mariusz Błaszczak, Poland’s Interior Minister, May 2017

I think that people in Poland, Hungary, Czech Republic, and Slovakia know that any compromise with liberalism leads to death. Western people in their deluged countries look at the Visegrad Four as the first victors in the long war against globalists.

My translated lyrics to “Warsaw’s Children” are at the end of the post. Here is the original marching song, performed last year on the anniversary of Zero Hour:

The avant-garde Slovenian band Laibach recently created their own interpretation of “Warszawskie Dzieci.” At turns, they sing fragments of the original in Polish and weave in a spoken English translation of a popular prewar song “Heart in a Knapsack” (Serce w plecaku). The video below was made by Poland’s National Centre for Culture.

There are original forms and derivative tributes. The former are often simple, self-contained, and perfect. A creative tribute drinks the waters of the original. Classic forms inspire mannerist interpretations, and as such the cover-form offers tantalizing possibilities that can succeed spectacularly, revealing the compressed wealth of the simple original. At other times, the creative tribute misses the point or runs away with the artist’s ego, and fails.

Does Laibach’s cover of the original song work for you? Frankly, it blew my mind:


Warszawskie Dzieci

No disaster can break free men
No bloody hardship frightens the bold
We’ll go together toward victory
Our people arm-in-arm.

(Refrain x2, after every verse)
Warsaw’s children, we go to fight
For your every cobblestone we give our blood
Warsaw children, we will go to fight
On your order we’ll bring wrath to the enemy!

Powiśle, Wola and Mokotów [districts]
On every street, in every house
When the first shot is fired, be ready
Like the golden thunderbolt in God’s hand.

Built with hammer, saw, chisel, trowel
Our capital city, proud of her sons
Who stand with her faithfully 
To guard her iron laws.

Glory to the fallen, freedom to the living
May Heavens hear our song 
We believe that righteous Almighty
Will repay for the blood that’s spilled.

Zero Hour

Why write about an event that was unsuccessful in accomplishing its stated objectives, had horrific costs, happened seven decades ago, and why write about it on a blog that has a largely Anglosphere readership?

Because it was 63 days of good fighting evil to the death.

And because President Donald Trump agrees with me that the 1944 Warsaw Uprising is a metaphor for the war of our time. We prepare for an outcome that, disastrous or not short-term, will give the West a long-term victory, a new chance at life.

Had Hillary Clinton won the presidency, all of us would have understood Patrick Henry’s ultimatum “Give me liberty or give me death.” We would all be facing the same overwhelming odds that George Washington did in 1778 and the Home Army did in 1944.

Trump’s Holy Victory bought us time. Frankly, it also gave us courage — we stopped being afraid. And at some point we’ll have to pick a side and doing so, lead, follow, or get out of the way. In a recent post titled “Europe, Rise From Your Knees!” I go over what that means, especially the value of getting out of the way.

In April, I had a post titled “Physical Bravery and Young Age,” which looks at what it takes for a nation to produce brave sons and daughters.

It’s not over yet. It hasn’t even begun. But the air sure feels thick with anticipation. Rotherham has not been avenged.

Zero Hour (or W Hour as it’s called in Poland) is commemorated at 1700 hrs local time every August 1st with one-minute’s howl of air-raid sirens to mark the outbreak of the insurrection.

The Uprising was not a suicide mission. It was a well planned high-risk, high-reward operation with major initial successes. There is a saying about the five stages of the Warsaw Uprising:

  1. Euphoria when the first shots were fired.
  2. Hope when districts were liberated, tanks destroyed, enemy soldiers killed.
  3. Desperation when allies stood down, food and water ran low, civilian massacres began.
  4. Expulsion of the surviving residents and razing of the city.
  5. Glory forever.

“Europe, Rise From Your Knees!”

That’s a line delivered by Poland’s prime minister Beata Szydło in a speech to her country’s Parliament last Wednesday:

We are not going to take part in the madness of the Brussels elite. We want to help people, not the political elites.

Where are you headed Europe? Rise from your knees and from your lethargy or you will be crying over your children every day.

If you can’t see this – if you can’t see that terrorism currently has the potential to hurt every country in Europe, and you think that Poland should not defend itself, you are going hand in hand with those who point this weapon against Europe, against all of us. It needs to be said clearly and directly: This is an attack on Europe, on our culture, on our traditions.

Do we want politicians who claim we have to get used to the attacks, and who describe terrorist attacks as “incidents,” or do we want strong politicians who can see the danger and can fight against it efficiently?

That phrase about culture and traditions is a softball, and as far as all mainstream right-wing European leaders will rhetorically go. But soon enough they or their successors will be talking about our nation, our race, our blood. Why shouldn’t they?

“Europe, rise from your knees.” What does that mean? First, it means that you have a pair of eyes and a free mind, so use them. Wake up. Then, act like you’re in a war, because you are in one. It’s presently one-sided biological warfare in which the enemy’s objective is to breed you out of existence. Genetic-pollution Afroasian immigrants are their ground troops. The anti-White Kulturkampf in the media and schools is their air support. And you, the European man, woman and child anywhere in the world, are the city under siege.

This is not a tangent, but I’ve wondered before: was the 1944 Warsaw Uprising a mistake or a sacrifice with long-term recompense? The 63-day campaign wrested several districts of the capital from the enemy occupant. The Uprising ultimately failed and led to 85% of Warsaw getting razed, including her entire Old Town and all of the city’s landmarks of cultural significance. In addition to insurgent casualties, approximately 200,000 civilians were murdered by German regulars and their SS auxiliaries, who were brought in from as far as Azerbaijan. (German personnel losses included up to 9,000 est. killed, 7,000 missing, 9,000 wounded, and 2,000 captured).

The two-day Wola district massacre, in which 40,000 civilians were executed in house-to-house sweeps, was particularly grisly. From post-war court testimony of Mathias Schenck, a Wehrmacht sapper:

After the door of the building was blown off we saw a daycare-full of small children, around 500; all with small hands in the air. Even [SS-Oberführer Oskar] Dirlewanger’s own people called him a butcher; he ordered to kill them all. The shots were fired, but he requested his men to save the ammo and finish them off by rifle-butts and bayonets. Blood and brain matter flowed in streams down the stairs.

Dirlewanger was a pedophile. Schenck also testified to seeing Dirlewanger rape a girl while holding a knife, and then cutting her open along the entire length of her torso after ejaculating.

There are Oskar Dirlewangers at high levels of Western governments today. This is why my apparent tangent on the Warsaw Uprising is neither a tangent nor irrelevant. You have just seen a snapshot of what a total war of population-replacement looks like. This is what our leaders are planning for us.

Scratch that — they are already doing it. A dozen little English girls were just shredded at the Ariana Grande concert, and they tell you to remain passive as they kick in your door over angry Tweets. A thought experiment: how would a legitimate English government respond to a foreign national mass-murdering its children? Or to a wild African decapitating Lee Rigby in front of his barracks?

The English people, along with most Westerners, are not ruled by legitimate governments. They are ruled by criminals. As long as these Western people, in the privacy of their minds where there is no excuse for being a slave, consider their governments lawful and legitimate, they are kneeling before Oskar Dirlewanger. Getting off your knees would mean, first of all, that you open your eyes and see the evil that is staining your land.

What would be the next step in rising off your knees?

I don’t tell people to do anything I am not doing. But keep reading.

Despite its failure, the 1944 Warsaw Uprising will be famed for as long as sentient mankind lives. The lesson for posterity is that sometimes you have to fight because even if you are beaten, you will inspire your great-grandsons to never die on their knees.

Fabrizio Quattrocchi is more alive now than the walking-dead who shuffle through Western European capitals today:

[He] was hooded when the murderers put a gun to his head. “When his murderers were pointing a pistol at him, this man tried to take off his hood and shouted, ‘Now I’m going to show you how an Italian dies.’ And they killed him.”

Warsaw lost the Uprising but won the war, and she’s rebuilt and alive today.


Were all those 500 little children in Wola wasted, should the operation have been aborted? Seventy three years later, nationalists are laughing in the EU’s face. The wind at their backs is the spirit of those kids and of the fallen fighters.

So what do you do after you open your eyes? The answer: you lead, you follow, or you get out of the way. That last one is valuable too, as it makes you a passive supporter of those who act. The criminals and perverts embedded in the institutions of our ruling classes will double-down before they’re brought to trial and the imported aliens removed. It will either be clean, or it’s gonna get drawn out and ugly. There is no tenable center any more, you have to pick a side. There are action heroes and rising national movements. So lead something, or join the people who act in service to your nation. Support them; or at the very least, don’t stand in their way.

European, rise from your knees.


Image source, top: YouTube; above: Renegade Tribune

Physical Bravery And Young Age

Set in medieval France, the historical drama La passion Béatrice opens with the lord of a manor and his teenage son returning from English captivity after a failed military campaign. But the lord’s homecoming is not what everyone had expected. He directs his first of many acts of wrath at his son, whom he torments for having frozen up in battle as the opposing armies charged toward each other. The boy’s older sister comforts him later, cooing “you were too young, not ready for war.”

Fast-forwarding to another war, two weeks ago in Germany a 26-year-old man was forced to watch a stranger rape his girlfriend at knifepoint, as reported:

A refugee from Ghana has been arrested for dragging a young woman from her tent and raping her while she was on a camping holiday with her boyfriend. The young couple […] were approached by a machete-wielding man at about 12.30 am on Sunday last week. The boyfriend was forced to watch as the attacker violated his 23-year-old lover.

It’s not clear what sidelined the boyfriend while his adversary went to the ground with the girl, what impromptu weapons were available to him, and what opportunity he had to attack the rapist. He could have grabbed a rock or a branch. Toss a handful of dirt into the African’s eyes while rushing him. Yell for help from other campers. It’s easy, from the position of a spectator, to construct a different ending to the story and I indulged in imagining the following alternate scenario, which begins with the Ghanian holding a knife to the girl’s throat:

GHANIAN: “Yoo watch fiki-fiki. Yoo moof, I cut your bitch”

GERMAN: “Stab away. She’ll be dead to me with nigger stink on her anyway.”

The German picks up a camping axe and approaches the interloper. The Ghanaian runs. An hour later in the couple’s tent, baby Hans is conceived.

By the way, as cold as it sounds, that fictitious “stab away” reply would not have been out of line even if the hostage were his daughter rather than mere girlfriend. But the young man didn’t follow my ex post facto armchair-quarterback script. Instead, maybe his brain short-circuited at the sight of sharp steel and he watched the action as though from behind a screen. Someone who grew up sheltered from any and all violence will freeze up when faced with an imminent prospect of physical pain. And that incident shows why shielding boys from common schoolyard rough-and-tumble is wrongheaded. I recently shared related thoughts on bullying.

A reader at Vox Popoli who is a retired military officer noted: “German boys always struck me as wimpish until the military got hold of them.” I don’t think his categorization of them as wimpish was intended as a slight. There is in fact something “not ready for war” about well-bred K-selected boys until they are mentored. They require time and guidance to mature. They don’t have that opportunistic aggression-for-aggression’s sake you see in r-selected types.

But at 26, the camper is not young. Certainly not by the traditional standards of infantrymen, with 22 being the average age of the U.S. combat soldier in Vietnam. Youth alone does not explain that instance of cowardice, as history is full of children who performed superhuman acts of heroism. Just three generations ago, boys as young as eleven fought as riflemen against professional and mercenary SS units in the 1944 Warsaw Uprising. Boys and girls even younger than that served as couriers and nurses’ aides under fire.

In fact, youth is typically associated with recklessness, bravery’s wild cousin. In Umberto Eco’s Foucault’s Pendulum, a middle-aged character has a rueful interior monologue (to my recollection twenty years after reading that book) in which he rationalizes his own reluctance to join the ongoing political riots as being a function of his mature perspective. So has a 26-year-old German today “aged out” of bravery, relative to boys a decade younger than him who comprised Wehrmacht units at the Battle of the Bulge? No; mid-twenties isn’t “mature,” and the VP commenter already answered that question — the military never got a hold of him.

“The military” can be read literally, as well as metaphorically to refer to any communal structure that provides male mentorship to boys. Without that mentoring, they risk ending up as cake batter that failed to rise. An illustration: the mild-mannered young man in Scent of a Woman, who required Al Pacino’s guidance to bring out his innate integrity. The camper’s situation was compounded by the fact that he was not merely abandoned by his fathers, in which case he’d at least been free to figure certain things out by himself. Rather, his environment in a conquered and Allied-occupied Germany was by design hostile to the germ of masculinity within any native boy there. From his first day in Kindergarten, he learned shame and grew up to despise his original sin of existing.

“In a sort of ghastly simplicity we remove the organ and demand the function. We make men without chests and expect of them virtue and enterprise. We laugh at honour and are shocked to find traitors in our midst. We castrate and bid the geldings be fruitful.” ― C.S. Lewis

A necessary aside: not everyone there is a coward. This is a proper moment to break away from the all-too-familiar accounts of submission because the preponderance of such stories creates a false sense of determinism. We are at war and with each new set of open eyes, the war is becoming less and less one-sided.

So not all is passivity among Europeans. In another incident, also in Germany, a group of Pakistanis sidled up to a family of five on a train and asked the man’s two little girls to sit on their laps. The child-molesting human garbage attacked the father when he told them to leave. They also beat his wife and their thirteen-year-old son, both of whom tried to shield his body. Brave men are out there, in Germany and everywhere else. The father stepped up to do his job and the teenage boy showed more mettle than the camper who is twice his age.

Even the most red-pilled of us is capable of getting angry, and the above news item made me livid. Anger is a sign of life.

Every human group upholds the three ideals listed below for the purpose of turning the wimpish boy into into a man. Those ideals are realized through social institutions, which in the West are being intentionally corrupted by liberalism:

Mentorship — When you visit a martial arts school or a little league baseball practice and you see non-Whites under instruction of White coaches there, you are witnessing a fatal compromise on a Männerbund structure for mentoring boys in the image of their elders. Diversity disrupts harmony. Blacks have their all-black inner-city boxing gyms. Whites have to price-out the diversity with sports like lacrosse and hockey.

Culture — As T.S. Eliot put it, “Culture may even be described simply as that which makes life worth living.” A living spirit whose great books for boys transmit masculine role models and foster a purposeful sense of identity. Culture is home. That’s why they wreck Boy Scouts and blue collar fraternities such as firefighting and construction work by pushing women and diversity on them.

Destiny — A sense of having a past and a future. The kids who fought in the Warsaw Uprising knew that they had a home and a destiny of their own, which they fought to secure for themselves and for me with their young lives. Sure of their righteousness in the inferno of urban warfare, they sang:

We’re the children of Warsaw going into battle
For your every cobblestone, we’ll give our blood
We’re the children of Warsaw going into battle
On your command, we’ll bring wrath to the enemy

Freezing up when an armed rapist grabs your girl is the fruit of political systems whose aim is to destroy White nations and with them, everything that the millennia of Western history have irrepressibly created even through the worst times along the course of our highs and lows. Our key objective in this war, in Germany and everywhere else in the West, is to secure our freedoms of association. You give a damn for, you fight and kill for, you give what you have and you do your best for, and you willingly die no matter your age, for what is yours.


Image source: Wikipedia. “The Little Insurrectionist,” Warsaw