Hitler was a British Agent

CONTENTS 1Living Libraries1 2Adolf Hitler – The Incestuous Catholic Jew5 3Adolf Hitler in Britain21 4Hitler’s Sexuality63 5Hitler’s Psychiatric Condition79 6Hitler’s Deconstruction87 7Body Doubles103 8Hess and Hess Fly to Britain125 9Crashing the Duke of Kent159 10Dunkirk229 11James Bond235 Espavo Sozo - treasurer@platinumparty.org -7 March 2013 12Pearl Harbor241 13Dieppe251 14Anthony Blunt255 15Wallis Simpson and King Edward VIII261 16Operation james bond279 17Operation winnie the pooh305 18Lost Leaders361 19Churchill, Hitler and Stalin Work Together397 1Information and Inventions443 2The Fluoride Con461 3Not Without American Help463 4Spreading the Blame465 5Doppelgänger Hess’s Murder467 6The Bank of England Heist471 7Smersh473 8Hugh Trevor-Roper475 9Unlikely Heroes479 10James Bond – Sir Sean Connery481 11Hitler’s Host for Hitler’s Ghost485 12The Origins of Animal Farm497 13Was Wallis Simpson a Man509 The Rules of War Amory Bradford’s letter regarding Clare Boothe Luce’s idea for the assassination of Hitler (June 16th) reminded me of an ingenious plan devised by my father, Sir Douglas Jardine, when he was the British governor of Sierra Leone, in 1941. The Germans were gaining ground in North Africa, and he was secretly approached by the German High Command with a proposal that he move his troops in Sierra Leone to the wrong border when the German Army invaded the country. For this help, my father was to receive “clement treatment” in the event of a German victory. My father wrote to Whitehall suggesting that he should agree to go to Berlin to discuss the moves he might make. In his pocket he would have a box of Swan Vesta matches with yellow-fever germs sealed inside. My father had been vaccinated against yellow-fever, a fatal disease, so while talking to Hitler he would be able to light his pipe or cigarette and crush the box of matches. Whitehall replied that on no account was he to do any such foolish thing: it would not be cricket to murder Hitler. Penelope Jardine S. Giovanni in Oliveto, Italy The New Yorker, 28 July 1997, p. 6.