by Savitri Devi

Edited by R.G. Fowler

This is the eleventh chapter of Savitri Devi’s previously unpublished book Forever and Ever.

In transcribing and editing these texts, I have translated the German epigraphs, corrected any spelling and grammatical errors, and “Americanized” and updated the spelling. I have not altered Savitri’s sometimes eccentric capitalization practices. Nor have I altered her punctuation, although I have pruned her sometimes long ellipses down to three dots each. Editorial additions appear in square brackets. Omissions and substitutions are indicated with notes. All notes are by the editor. PDF images of the typescript are available for those who wish to check my editing or bypass it altogether. Just click the title of each chapter.

 —R. G. Fowler

XI.

1945
______

“Was folgte, waren entsetzliche Tage und noch bösere Nächte—ich wußte, daß alles verloren war. Auf die Gnade des Feindes zu hoffen, konnten höchstens Narrens fertigbringen oder—Lügner und Verbrecher. In diesen Nächten wuchs mir der Haß, der Haß gegen die Urheber dieser Tat.”

Three more years of desperate struggle against the forces of disintegration²; against the unseen Money-Power; its growing armament and all its lies; three more long years in which the Jew’s allies sought in vain to destroy Thy Nation in endless streams of phosphorous and fire; three more long years in which, before the eyes of the bewildered world, Thy people stood the test, and in the midst of smoking ruins, fought the East and fought the West, as only gods could fight, and would have won in spite of all—who knows?—had not increasing treachery given new weapons to Thy foes!

But then,—after those months and months of untold sacrifice—our darkest hour: surrender, with the trail of misery and bitterness that it implies; the desecration of Thy Eagle’s Nest by Jews and slaves of Jews,³ and proud Germany torn in four between her persecutors; and Thou—visible Soul of everlasting Germany, the Founder and Head of our new faith of health and pride—with Thy whole life’s creation, dead—so the news said!

Oh, who will ever, now or in the future, tell the tale of hatred and of rage of those atrocious days? The tale of mad despair,⁴ of our passage into hell? The tale of the last ones who fell in Libya’s burning sands, or on the parched and shattered earth of their own Fatherland, or in the snow and frost of the Russias’ Grim, white plains, on every battlefield, in loving faith, thy holy name upon their lips—up to the end—for honor to be safe, while they knew all the rest was lost? The tale of the survivors, of the survivors of the titanic fight, driven into captivity for knowing Thou wast right? The tale of Thy uprooted people of all the eastern parts of the great Reich, fleeing before the Russian host in the cold night only to meet, wherever they would go, the sight of more invaders—more agents of the Jewish might and self-ordained crusaders against our creed of Life and Light? The tale of Thy whole Nation under the horrid fourfold Occupation which then barely began and was to last no one yet knew how long.

* * *

Oh, to sleep—to forget, and never to awake, never again to know that once upon a time a wretched world existed in which out of the slime of mediocre, dull humanity, a godlike Nation had arisen, at the call of a godlike Man believing in her own invincibility, and lived and toiled and sang, in youthful joy and glory, six great years long,⁵ and then, the stupid fury of that mean and jealous world, for another six years resisted? Oh, to sleep,⁶ to forget; never again to know, that under Thy New Order, firmly set in for centuries, all could have been so beautiful, but that, forevermore,⁷ because in spite of a series of Victories, we lost this war, it would hopelessly be just as before Thy dawning power—and worse, far worse; that this would be a God-forsaken world, full of our persecutors’ fame; a world in which, henceforth, men would be taught to hate Thy people and to curse Thy name! A world in which the very children of Thy trusted ones, now full of bitterness like I, would slowly have to learn to love Thy enemies or learn to lie! Or to sleep—to forget,⁸ to die! Of this tragic collapse of Thy splendid great Reich, not to know a thing anymore!

Thus thought I as I wandered, all alone, from place to place as far from crowded cities as it was possible, in order not to hear or read the news, in order not to know when the dark day I dreaded—the last day of the hallowed Reich—would be. Beyond the forms and colors of all things visible, two inner nightmares haunted me: the vision of Thee in the midst of Germany in ruins, and that of my own wasted life away from Thee.

Why had I not been all these long years at Thy side? For Thee and for the truth I had loved all my life, why was I not there now to fight—and die—with the two Words of faith and pride upon my lips, as thousands of my brothers? I who had always seen in Thee the Child of Light; I who from miles and miles away had cheered Thy growing might, but had never seen Thy glory,⁹ now pictured to myself, with tears, Thy tragic face against the background of the crumbling Reich. And like the deep thrust of a knife into my heart, the maddening thought come back, ever and ever more: in this hour of agony when all was lost, oh, why was I not there, to fight, to die, with the Reich’s last defenders, for all that I adored?

Oh, to sleep, to forget, now I could do no more! While in the distant West, events would take their course, in definitive nothingness, to lie—to rest—freed from the nightmare of surrender, freed from the nightmare of remorse for not having laid down my life in action at Thy side, in absolute unconsciousness forever to abide!

Thus thought I as, alone, in mountain fastnesses, or on the beaches, I would roam and roam. Facing me with noise and foam, the waterfalls and torrents, and facing me, the swelling Ocean tide, all seemed to say: “Come! Just a step into the depth, and you will be forever free, away from the haunting sight and thought of all your comrades’ plight, away from the knowledge of the breakdown of their Nation, exalted home of all you love, away from the torment and horror of this hopeless world: you need,¹⁰ indeed, only to take a step into the roaring depth, in order to sleep—to forget!”

* * *

And yet that step I did not take. For stronger even than despair within my bleeding heart was hate—hated of those who had brought about that awful fate upon Thy beloved¹¹ Nation. And stronger than the horror of the long nightmare was one of great aspiration: the will to live for sweet revenge’s sake.

The will to live, in order that, one day, even if I never should see the resurrection of Thy great Reich in all its might, I should at least admire the coming scenes of the tremendous Play of Action and Reaction—heavenly nemesis, tardy but unavoidable;—in order [that] I should see our persecutors fight among themselves, and set each other’s towns on fire; and that, remembering the untold suffering and the dismay their planes had once brought Germany night after night, I should then rejoice at the sight: In order that I should at least watch them—the everlasting foes of Aryan man, the real Killers of Thy people; and all those who now stood on their side, against Thee, against us—weep in their turn, and writhe, and burn, and die to my delight!

Yes, I would live, decided I,¹² though life could only be one long torment for me; I would renounce the blessed peace of endless sleep and of forgetfulness, suffer the horror of defeat and all the hopelessness of a world henceforth ruled by those who hated Thee—suffer it all, be it for years, only wait and see that world in terror reap, in the long run, the fruits of its alliance with Thy foes.

In the meantime, the long-drawn nightmare had begun.