False flags
Or is it false video today?
THE YEAR was 1939, the season was summer, and things were moving fast. And nowhere good. The Germans, for months, had claimed the Polish government was either aiding, or putting up with, ethnic cleansing of Germans living in Poland. This was more than saber-rattling. The Germans were making territorial demands. And the world was caving. Appeasement was the answer from the West. The Allies hadn’t learned their lessons yet.
About this time, the Nazis arrested a man named Franciszek Honiok, who lived in Germany but who was well known to have Polish sympathies. He was kept in a camp called Dachau, which you might have heard of. The poor fellow had fought with the
Poles in the Silesian Uprisings against the German police way back in ‘21, and that was reason enough to round him up in 1939. As if the Nazis needed reasons for anything.
They drugged him. Then dragged him to a radio station in Gleiwitz, Germany.
According to testimony at the Nuremberg Trials a few years later, on the night of Aug. 31, 1939, a small group of German operatives dressed in Polish uniforms (which would violate the Geneva Conventions these days) raided the radio station in Gleiwitz, and sent out a short anti-German message to listeners.
To make this stunt a little more believable, the operatives dressed Franciszek Honiok as a saboteur, then shot him up good. Left him dead at the scene—so the German government could present “proof” of the attack to the world. Even back then, they knew the power of a photo-op, even if they didn’t use the term.
This one night was a part of Operation Himmler; you’d recognize that name, too. The plan was put into action to give the Nazis some cover for invading Poland from the west as the USSR invaded from the east. It’s easy to forget that once upon a time, the Soviets were allied with the Nazis.
“I will provide a proagandistic casus belli,” Der Fuhrer told his generals. “Its credibility doesn’t matter. The victor will not be asked whether he told the truth.”
The day after the Gleiwitz Incident at the radio station, the German army invaded Poland.
Franciszek Honiok is referred to as the first casualty of World War II.
ON TO today’s news: The papers say Russia is planning a false flag operation in order to give itself cover to invade the Ukraine. So much for any kind of Olympics Truce. The papers are full of the news, which seems to suggest our spooks want the coverage. They may have decided that to go public with their reports might could help prevent the invasion—by taking away the pretext.
Perhaps Vlad the Impaler will be foiled again. But like the president of the United States let slip at a news conference weeks ago, all of Vladimir Putin’s forces are at the border already: He’s got to do something with them.
According to an article in The Wall Street Journal: “The intelligence shows a Russian plan to stage a bogus attack by Ukrainian military or intelligence personnel against Russia sovereign territory, or against Russian-speaking people, to justify an incursion into Ukraine … . The plan would include Moscow’s use of a propaganda video that would depict ‘graphic scenes,’ according to administration officials, of a staged false explosion with corpses, actors depicting mourners and images of destroyed buildings and military equipment.”
Speaking of the old Soviet Union, the best war movie you’ve never seen is called “The Beast.” It was released in 1988. It tells the story of a Soviet tank crew lost in the outback of Afghanistan in the early 1980s as they try to find their way back to Soviet lines. The commander of the crew was an old Nazi fighter from World War II.
In only one of this movie’s many memorable scenes, one of the soldiers looks around at what has happened to them, and asks his commander: “How is it that we’re the Nazis this time?”