Jackboot Britain: The Alternate History - Hitler's Victory & The Nazi UK! (14 page)

The larger Wehrmacht patrol man laughed, falsely. “
Ja
, with
that
nose. OK, Moses. Prove it. Papers.”

His body language resembled a rabid dog straining at the leash. Visible tremors shook his body as the huge pig fought to stay calm. Incredibly, the bloodyminded little Yorkshireman did not seem to recognise the imminent threat he faced.

“I’m
tellin
’ you, they’re at home! And you know what, so what if I
were’
bloody Jewish anyway! I’m a market boy, what do you bleedin’ care? Fucking
idiots
…”

Naomi winced. He’d gone too far. The German who had demanded his papers flinched visibly, as though the retort had affected him physically, though with predictable spite, he recovered quickly, reacting to the verbal scorn with physical aggression. The market boy had barely lowered his outstretched finger when the soldier ducked low and struck him hard in the stomach with a great fist; the piston-like attack from the big brute doubling the little man over, and he tottered dizzily for a brief moment before sinking to one knee, desperately gasping for air. It was a cruel blow from such a powerful specimen, delivered to a tiny stall boy who was barely five feet tall. Outraged by the ugly spectacle, several of the nearby stall sellers piped up.

“Oi! What are you doing that for, you bloody Boche twat!”

“No call for that
at all
, young man, no call for it.”

“What you goin’ off on one for, you great big
pillock
?”

“Hey ’ey ’ey, pack it in, will you?”

“
Fuck
off Jerry!”

Faced with open dissent from the disgruntled and irate Yorkshiremen, many of whom had approached to voice their anger, the oversized young German hesitated. His comrade, a shorter, squat man with dark hair, felt his own surprise dissipate quicker; raising his palms outwardly in a peaceful gesture, he offered some token placatory words. Smooth as his performance was, the appeasing words of conciliation seemed at odds with the menacing scowl of his fellow soldier, who glowered around him at the furious faces, looking as though he wanted to brutalise them all for the verbal dissent. His squat comrade let tensions wane, and then warned everybody in earshot that while
they
did not want any trouble, rules
must
be obeyed, and regrettably, that even mild resistance to basic laws could only lead to conflict. Everyone, he said, has to choose correctly, and play by the rules. Breaching that would only lead to self-inflicted trouble.

Having said his piece and diffused the tensions somewhat, skilfully employing a combination of veiled threats and ingratiation, the soldier swifly moved on, followed by his taller
kameraden
. He, though, left with one last lingering glower at the little stall man, who had been violently sick in the meantime, wriggling in discomfort as he emptied his stomach, and then rolling onto his back, sucking in pained lungfuls of air as he gasped through the pain. Several rushed forwards to check on him. The man was helped to his feet, and taken away to clean himself up in the market toilets. The noise of excitement quickly faded. In less than half a minute, it was as though nothing had happened at all.

They weren’t used to being stood up to, Naomi realised, still stood in the market centre reflecting. And obviously to them, Leeds is not Warsaw… or Jerusalem. But blood or not, they are conquerors. How long will they respond with reason and appeasement?

Slightly shaken, the young Jewess bought some fresh bread and two ounces of cheese, her full week’s allowance. “Not cricket eh? Jerry bastards. Takin’ bloody liberties, they are,” the stall seller said to her as she paid for the food, referring to the German soldier’s conduct with the little fellow who had the unfortunate nose.

“No,” she agreed. “It’s out of order. Hopefully that’s the worst of it.”

But in her heart of hearts, she doubted it. The fear was manageable, but it still remained, beneath the surface, intruding her thoughts in moments of peace.

Boarding the tram, she nibbled tentatively, willing herself not to finish the luxury before even reaching home. The stares of other passengers helped in this; sensing their open hostility, Naomi wondered if it was due to their hunger, rather than some breach of etiquette she had made in ignorance. Food
had
become a sensitive issue; astonishingly for the people at the heart of a global empire. The hated rationing was still in effect. Well-to-do types had aroused anger by continuing to eat at the designated restaurants that were exempt from rationing, and the privilege of immunity was soon withdrawn; ironically, in a move meant to placate the people, the Germans reintroduced the exemption system only weeks later, in an early decree.

Self-conscious under scrutiny due to a prevailing shyness, the young lady quickly stashed the food down by her feet and out of sight, watching the tenements and terraced streets of East Leeds flash by in a blur of grey and green until they reached Harehills. Her parents were not in. Naomi set off on the long walk home towards Chapeltown, where the largest Jewish community in not only Leeds, but Yorkshire entire could be found, ever-flourishing right up until the day lightning runes flew on flagpoles above British police stations. SS de jure spelled more than the end of that, as the liberal spectrum entire was ruthlessly eradicated from British society, but there was nowhere in England that the
Schwarze
Korps
were feared and loathed with more bitterness than in the persecuted ranks of the Jewish community.

Enjoying the stroll past red brick terraces and eventually the park; Naomi took her time, feeling the wind whip her hair as it blew with a gentle coolness, and then gushed faster at intervals, wafting strongly as she walked through its trajectory. Inside her flat, she settled down with some bread and half the cheese ration, and began to read her copy of
The Protocols
.

It sickened her.

Twenty-four protocols…

“Three:
Methods of Conquest
,” she murmured to herself in disbelief. “Four:
Materialism Replaces Religion
…
Despotism and Modern Progress
…
Takeover technique
…
World Wide Wars
…
The Totalitarian State
…
Control Of All Press
…
Ruthless Suppression
…
Attacks on Religion
…
Brainwashing
…
Financial Programme
…
Loans and Credit
… unbe
lievable
…”

Prior to the Nazis, she’d been faintly amused by the concept of the Protocols. With a regime that wholly sponsored nationwide anti-Semitic persecution within its own borders now holding sway in Britain, Naomi felt her blood run cold as she read through the chilling warrant for that said-same persecution; the forged imprint of the global conspiracy of her people. The justification for all violence committed against them as ‘self-defence’ – the implied protection of a saintly world from the menace of their corrupting perversions.

The end of her world.

~

She suddenly missed her parents.

When Naomi’s father, apoplectic with anger, threw a predictably
ad hominem
tantrum at her for joining the Auxiliary Fire Service, Naomi had moved out with as much dignity as she could muster, and found a small flat further north above a shop; still close enough to be part of the family, and ironically enough, closer to the main body of the Jewish community than her parents. Her father quickly made the peace, which she warmly and magnanimously accepted, but she chose not to move back. A young woman in the flush of early adulthood, Naomi was enthused, and with a combination of excitement and fear, succumbed to the national fervour of unity and resistance; doing her part for, if not the
war
, which she disagreed with as she did all wars, then the people at least, and finding a fantastic solidarity with her fellow AFS members. To feel such a bond can be a powerful thing. Naomi shared their pain as the men in their ranks were labelled ‘War-dodgers’, with such little action domestically for the first nine months of hostilities, and then their grief at the culmination of what amounted to the only bloody but brief action in its entirety, which ended with the complete collapse of the BEF in France.

Despite her induction into the AFS, Naomi had been deeply disappointed to find herself in no position to actually put out a fire. She did, however, surprise a few of her male colleagues with her driving which, by consensus, saw her reach the scenes of the fires just as quickly as would they. Doubling up as a fire watcher whenever a shift ran spare was seen as less glamorous, too, waiting with binoculars on the long, cold nights, but she found it inexplicably thrilling.

Such thrills seemed like a lifetime ago. Now, Naomi found herself wanting her mother.

Pulling herself back into the present, the young teacher finished the last of her cheese and lit a cigarette, finally steeling herself to properly acquaint herself with the hated text. Even in being prepared for its prejudice, opening the text still made Naomi’s flesh creep.

Methods of Conquest
, Doctrine III: “There remains a small space to cross and the whole long path we have trodden is ready now to close its cycle of the Symbolic Snake, by which we symbolise our people. When this ring closes, all the States of Europe will be locked in its coil as in a powerful vice
…”

Naomi spoke the paragraph aloud. She shook her head, wearily, before reading on, underlining the more pertinent, pernicious parts.

In order to incite seekers after power to a misuse of power we have set all forces in opposition one to another, breaking up their liberal tendencies towards independence. To this end we have stirred up every form of enterprise, we have armed all parties, we have set up authority as a target for every ambition. Of States we have made gladiatorial arenas where a lot of confused issues contend ... A little more, and disorders and bankruptcy will be universal... Babblers, inexhaustible, have turned into oratorical contests the sittings of Parliament and Administrative Boards. Bold journalists and unscrupulous pamphleteers daily fall upon executive officials. Abuses of power will put the final touch in preparing all institutions for their overthrow and everything will fly skyward under the blows of the maddened mob… The GOYIM have lost the habit of thinking unless prompted by the suggestions of our specialists…

Naomi blanched at the capitalisation of ‘Goyim’. Pausing to hydrate with some water, she composed herself and read on:

… The word "freedom" brings out the communities of men to fight against every kind of force, against every kind of authority even against God and the laws of nature. For this reason we, when we come into our kingdom, shall have to erase this word from the lexicon of life as implying a principle of brute force which turns mobs into bloodthirsty beasts…

Naomi shook her head again, slowly. The dark locks cascaded down over her eyes, and she shook her head a third time, like an impetuous horse, before continuing to underline key parts. She had only thus far read through Protocol III, out of twenty-four.

Glancing through the financial protocols on loans, credit and gold, she was merely bemused. Hatred of the financial elites was easily understood; were Jews not under the thumb of the same economic system of slavery as were gentiles? Did Jews alone hold the keys to the financial palace? Were the majority of the world’s Jews privy to the machinations of the richest Israelites, whomever and wherever they may be? Was she responsible for the Court Jews of prior centuries, or the bankers of this one? Were not the right-wing governments and Churches fully cooperative with the financial institutions?

Naomi snorted. These protocols were an irritant. But a dangerous, pernicious irritant.

Protocol VII, though, thoroughly disturbed her, and shook her to the core. Even more so than XI and XI,
Totalitarian State
and
Control of All Press
, the seventh,
Worldwide Wars
was the warrant for persecution.

Most malicious of all; beyond economic and political conspiracy, the seventh Protocol blamed all gentile wars specifically on the machinations of her people.

Throughout all Europe… we must create ferments, discords and hostility. By our intrigues we shall tangle up all the threads which we have stretched into the cabinets of all States by means of the political, by economic treaties, or loan obligations. In order to succeed in this we must use great cunning and penetration during negotiations and agreements, but, as regards what is called the ‘official language,’ we shall keep to the opposite tactics and assume the mask of honesty and complacency. In this way the peoples and governments of the GOYIM, whom we have taught to look only at the outside whatever we present to their notice, will still continue to accept us as the benefactors and saviours of the human race.

“Life
unworthy of life
,” she noted, sombrely.

The Protocols in effect bolstered the current German theories of scientific racism and lent justification –superficial and contrived as it was – to the gradual process of enacting the continental exclusion of her people from the chain of heredity. Acceptance of these texts as truth was tantamount to conspiring to de-humanise a race.

Jews conspired to enslave the world; ergo, Jewish life was
life unworthy of life
.

Naomi remembered an incident from her childhood.

“Get out of here you Jew,” the eleven-year-old boy had screamed at her, his mouth contorting nastily with the words as he pushed her away from the children’s park.

“What have I done?” the eight-year-old asked, bewildered.

“You’re a fucking
Jew
!
Fuck
off or I’ll
smack
you!”

She tottered away, thoroughly puzzled, and strolled off towards the distant swings at the other, nearby playground. Before she got there, halfway across the adjoining grass, a fist slammed hard into the back of her head, its thudding impact momentarily blurring her vision while sending her undeveloped, childlike body flying forward into the grass. She blocked the fall on instinct, but the blow itself had depleted her senses, and she lay confused and stricken for several seconds.