Story Here.

When millions would have done anything to get out, one remarkable British soldier smuggled himself into Auschwitz to witness the horror so he could tell others the truth.

Denis Avey is a remarkable man by any measure. A courageous and determined soldier in World War II, he was captured by the Germans and imprisoned in a camp connected to the Germans’ largest concentration camp, Auschwitz.

But his actions while in the camp – which he has never spoken about until now – are truly extraordinary. When millions would have done anything to get out, Mr Avey repeatedly smuggled himself into the camp.

Denis Avey: “They knew they’d only last five months”

Now 91 and living in Derbyshire, he says he wanted to witness what was going on inside and find out the truth about the gas chambers, so he could tell others. He knows he took “a hell of a chance”.

“When you think about it in today’s environment it is ludicrous, absolutely ludicrous,” he says.

“You wouldn’t think anyone would think or do that, but that is how I was. I had red hair and a temperament to match. Nothing would stop me.”

He arranged to swap for one night at a time with a Jewish inmate he had come to trust. He exchanged his uniform for the filthy, stripy garments the man had to wear. For the Auschwitz inmate it meant valuable food and rest in the British camp, while for Denis it was a chance to gather facts on the inside.

Here’s a man who is a nightmare to all those Holocaust deniers.

Except that they’d readily claim that he’s on the Jewish payroll and in on the global conspiracy.

Olga’s Diary (Continued)

Dear Diary

War:    Moores and I were in Oxford Street, when the air raid siren went, shopping for a new dress for her date that night with an army officer.  We’d just reached John Lewis when it sounded and we knew it meant we were going to be bombed by the Germans. Suddenly people started running like mad in all directions including us.  Terrified we hopped onto a bus without even knowing where it was going just to get off the street. 

By the time we got back to the hospital we had learnt it been a false alarm, but our relief didn’t last long because we were told that Britain was finally at war with Germany.  There’d been lots of talk about war before but I wouldn’t listen.

 I don’t want to go home, I want to stay and become a nurse, but I made a promise to Sydney and Mammie so, sooner or later Olga, you’re going to have to leave.  Moores and Ethel say I should go; at least I’ll be safe in Jamaica.  I told them I was frightened of being bombed, but I don’t want to return home not having achieved anything after spending six months in England, especially as it has cost my brother a lot of money.  

A few days later, great big silver barrage balloons hanging from cables were seen in the sky all over London.  They were to stop the German bombs from hitting their targets in the city.  I thought they looked like big silver elephants.  One of our first jobs when we started our training was to put black material over the windows so that at night time no light from the hospital wards could escape and the Germans wouldn’t be able to see London from the air and drop their bombs.  

We have all been given a gas mask and Sister Tutor demonstrated how to put it on.  You have to thrust your chin forward pulling the black rubber over the face and up over the forehead leaving your eyes peering out from the two holes.  There’re horrible smelly things and I tore mine off, I couldn’t breathe with it on. 

Then we had to fill out a form so the Government could issue everyone with an identity card.

And now ration books have appeared, although nurses don’t have them because we eat at the hospital. Ethel’s family are poor and she says ration books are a wonderful thing because food is distributed evenly and, poor families like hers, get the same as rich ones like Moores. 

But some days I’d be so hungry my mind would start thinking about the food markets back home where you can buy lovely meals very cheaply.  I find I’m dreaming of gungo peas soup with large pieces of yam and salt beef, vegetables and lovely dumplings or salt-fish and ackee or chicken with rice and peas and yam with half a boiled plantain.   And in the end I just feel hungrier than ever.  Now I’ve developed a taste for sugar sandwiches.

Dear Diary

Unhappy news:   War doesn’t make any difference to Sister Tutor; she’s still very strict and only has to raise an eyebrow to show her disapproval about something I’ve done or haven’t done. 

This morning I broke a thermometer and have to pay 6d out of my wages to replace it.   I’m not thinking about the war, all I can think about is passing the exam at the end of the three months.

 Moores, Ethel and I test each other whenever we have time and if I get really stuck on something, Joanne helps me.    Matron wants to see me.  I can’t think what I’ve done wrong.

Later:  I couldn’t stop shaking waiting outside Matron’s office.  When I entered she told me to sit down and I knew it was bad news.  She never tells nurses to sit down, we always have to stand to attention as if we’re on parade like soldiers in the army.

 “I have some bad news for you Olga” she said in such a kindly voice it barely sounded like her.

 “I’m afraid you cannot go home to Jamaica.  Because of the war the Government has banned all non essential travel out of Britain which means you will have to stay until the war ends”

I suddenly  burst into tears.

 “It’s not so bad really, is it Olga, think how proud your family be will when you do return home as a fully qualified nurse” she said. 

Then she sat down beside me and put her arm round my shoulders and I cried even more.  I was crying so much partly because Matron was being so kind and calling me Olga, instead of Browney, but also because, although I wanted to stay and finish my training, now I had no choice in the matter, I had to stay and suddenly I had such an urge to see Mammie and my sisters. 

“I’m sure the war won’t last long and in the meantime we need you here”. 

“Yes Matron, thank you Matron,” I sobbed.

 I was still crying as I reached the door to leave and she called out to me.

“Wait, I nearly forgot”.  She was holding a sheet of paper in her hand and there was a little smile on her face.

 “Congratulations, Browney, you passed your first exam”.

Mammie’s (Becky) Diary

 At last, I have been able to talk to Olga on the telephone, not that I could hear very much because the line was poor and crackly and we only had three minutes.   The tots and Birdie all managed to say hello and tell her they loved her.  At least now I know she’s well and safe, but her place is here at home. 

I should have insisted that Sydney brought her back. Lucy was right all along when she said Hitler couldn’t be trusted and had invaded Poland.   It’s all very well for people to say that the war between Britain and Germany won’t last long, but how do they know, it could go on longer than the first war.  No one knows for sure except God. 

There are reports that people are starving in England.  Could this be true.  Olga starving?  The Daily Gleaner says that the predicted bombing hasn’t happened and many who evacuated London when war was declared are returning to their homes. So maybe things will not be as bad as everyone first thought.     

Olga says she hasn’t seen Martha for weeks.  Why, I wonder?  What has been happening between those two?  Now I have something else to worry about.  There was no mention of anything wrong between them in Olga’s last letter.  There wasn’t much of anything really because there was so little to read since most of it had been censored with heavy black ink. 

But she has passed an exam we are all very proud of her.  I went down to the meat market for the first time for years, just to tell Henry.  Olga’s status seems to have gone up a lot already as far as the younger girls are concerned and she has certainly impressed the rest of the family with her resolve to come home a fully qualified nurse.  As Birdie says “beats working in a bicycle shop”.

It sounds as if Olga has become very fond of her friend Joanne. 

Do you know what I think?  I think the hand of God was at work there.  He sent Joanne to look after Olga.  But even so, we will still continue to pray for Olga’s safety.

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ESCI’s 1/72 Wespe kit. An original, not the recent Italeri re-release. Purchased at a Swap & Sell.

While some lucky AFVs received very solid, evenly applied Winter camouflage coats using air-compressed sprayguns (spraygun seen in use here) many had thinned out or poorly-mixed whitewash applied in varying fashiuons – often using ordinary brushes such as these gents do to their Tiger here, but using brooms and even dipping rags into the mixutre then smacking the rag against the vehicle was not unknown.

The whitewash often didn’t stay on for very long, either, leading to all sorts of streaking and fading. This is what I’ve tried to replicate in this kit.

Overall, this kit was pretty easy to assemble. The rack on the left side for holding jerrycans was not standard-issue, however…therefore if I do up a platoon, most won’t have that rack and they certainly won’t have the spare box that I added on the right.

Working on the WW2 jeep transmission is pretty easy if you just follow the directions.  This book is an ideal gift for the guy or gal with a faulty T-84 WW2 jeep transmission.

Trouble Shooting And Rebuilding The T-84J by Robert Notman   $34.95 PLUS SHIPPING AVAILABILITY: Books will ship in a minimum of 5 business days. Product Number: 13014504 Genre: Automobiles Paperback: 158 pages Description: Rebuild the T-84J WW2 jeep Transmission Yourself! 42FordGPW Synopsis: Trouble Shooting and Rebuilding The T-84J Transmission is an aide designed to help the novice to decide whether or not to rebuild the T-84J themselves. It covers all sorts of “tricks” and “how-to’s” for tearing down, cleaning, inspecting and then assembling the rebuilt transmission. You will learn trouble shooting tips. Why is your transmission jumping out of gear? Is the T-84J really supposed to be noisy? And much, much more! You also might be interested in the CD version–to see a live action version of what is going on in the book. 42FordGPW Book Details: · Paperback: 158 pages · Binding: Wire-O · Publisher: Robert Notman (August 2004) · Product Number: 13014504

OR order online.

A medium-sized township somewhere on the Eastern Front…the Eastern Front in Spring 1945, that is. Two reconnaissance forces clash somewhere in or near Germany.

There was a moderate south-easterly wind blowing.

We decided to play lengthways for this game, as our AFVs could all move at very good speeds and Peter wanted me to see just how that translated onto the table.

I had a company comprised of many different AFVs – 234/2 Pumas, a 234/3 Stummel, 222s and Lynxs. Peter’s Soviet force had a high percentage of Lend-Lease vehicles – M3A1s, M3 half-tracks as well as T-70s.

FIRST TURN:

Both sides moved. My 234/2 Pumas moved at 1/2 their maximum permitted speed, so they could shoot at the T-70s they saw on the main road on the other side of town.

The Pumas hit, but at that range their shells could never penetrate, so the shells bounced off.

SECOND TURN:

More movement. The T-70’s guns can’t reach my Pumas, so my Pumas take advantage of the situation, opening fire and causing one T-70 to be Tracked.

THIRD TURN:

Now AFVs from both sides were racing across the table top.

Peter was right – these recon AFVs really could fly, and having the roads helped this aspect of the game too.

The T-70s are now in range and fire a salvo at the opposing 234/2s but with no success. The 234/2s return fire, getting a Stun result on one of T-70s and  immobilising the other.

FOURTH TURN:

With AFVs sited by both forces, I needed all my 6 ‘pips’ to split my forces up. All jockeyed for cover or to present their heavily-armoured fronts to their opponents.

Down in the south-east of the town, my Lynxs came under solid fire from the Lend-Lease M3A1s, causing one Lynx crew to panic and bail out.

To the north, the 234/2 Pumas both immobilise the already immobilised T-70 and destroy its gun too – Peter rules that it is effectively destroyed as it can do nothing else.

FIFTH TURN:

I order all my German forces to slow right down. Firing at half speed affects their aim (not surprisingly) so now they are to only move 5cm each or less. My rolling for shooting goes downhill though – I roll far too high all of a sudden so my strategy is for naught.

The Russian infantry whom had been tank-riding and dismounted back in Turn Two, hurl Molotov cocktails from their concealed positions in the railway station at the Pumas. Peter rolls the top result possible – Puma #2 is destroyed!

I make a Morale Check for the whole Company…a Shaken result. Not so good.

SIXTH TURN:

My toughest platoon on the table – my 234/2 Pumas – must Withdraw. ‘Withdraw’ means reverse 5cm but can still Shoot…I just cannot go forward under any circumstances.

This turn there was much death. Peter’s  BA-10 platoon are all effectively Tracked and so they Bail Out. My Puma platoon leader is killed. 

I roll an 8 for my Morale Check. With adjustments, the final result is 0 – my remaining Puma must Retreat – but since enemy forces are so close, it’s forced to Surrender to those nearby enemy forces.

At this stage, I declared the Germans had lost. The Russians were bloodied – the most bloodied this year – but I didn’t have enough remaining firepower to break them.

An interesting game – assembling, painting and getting a whole 6 vehicle 234/2 Puma platoon reay for a re-match is an appealing way to spend the upcoming Christmas break.

This is a great gift for the early jeep enthusiast, order now for Christmas!

Military Green Navy

Bantam, Where it all began Mil Green or Navy T Bantam was the first “jeep” used by the Army.  These are great t-shirts to show support for the little company that could–build the FIRST 1/4-ton vehicle that would become known as the “jeep”.  These vehicles were built by Willys and Ford in large quantities during WW2 but it was Bantam that was FIRST.  MAKES A GREAT GIFT! $19.99 plus shipping.  Ships worldwide.  Major credit cards accepted. Size:  Small Medium Large X-Large 2X-Large (+$3.00) Color: Military Green Navy   AVAILABILITY: Dark Apparel will ship in a minimum of 5 business days. Please Note – We cannot guarantee delivery time for [beta] dark shirts. Product Number: 91593494  Order online by clicking the link or call the TOLL FREE (US) number at left and give the operator the product number. Product Information Fit: Not too tight, not too loose. Fabric Thickness: Look cool without breaking the bank. Our durable, high-quality, pre-shrunk 100% cotton t-shirt is what to wear when you want to go comfortably casual. Preshrunk, durable and guaranteed. 5.6 oz. 100

this film is a haunting and horrific reminder of the price we as humans pay for our advancements. i dont want to debate about whether or not it is ever right to go to war, and i surely dont want to bring up the idea of pacifism at all really. i just want to review this film.

the film’s directing and acting are both somewhat stilted. and i think that it is on purpose. the actors in the first part of the film, mostly in flashbacks, seem to be awkward teens… and that is just what they are. but this slight removal from the norm immediately makes the film an off kilter beast. right from the get go this film feels different. and it feels uncomfortable. bizarre camera angels, and shots that extend or cut at strange places also help to make the viewer feel uncomfortable. almost like they missed something. if it was on purpose, then the film reaches a new level of brilliance, especially for its time in 1971. but if it was on accident, which it may very well be, the accident is a good one. one that betters the film all on its own.

the film is disturbing though. it hurts to watch all the way through. Joe, our Johnny if you will, looks for answers in his mind while his body lays useless and shattered in a storeroom. he looks to his father, who is no help, he looks to his first love, who also is no help, and finally he looks to Christ himself. and Christ says that he is in a place worth than death. a place he must just wait through. through dreams we see Joe’s relationship with his father. sadly, it is a relationship that doesnt exist in America anymore. over coddling parents and parental fear of being labeled as ‘abusers’ have taken the place of strong ‘Bambi’s Father’ type figures. Joe tries his best to please his father at times, but in doing so he misses what his father wanted him to know. his father wanted him to know that life isnt easy, and no one cares about you when you’re gone, so care now. his father hugs him close and tells him its ok when he messes up and loses his father’s prize fishing rod. because after all, it is just a fishing rod. that line had a huge impact on me when i heard it. the rod was his father’s prized possession. it was “the only thing that separates me [the father] from the rest of the people.” and his son loses it. when Joe comes to tell his father he is in tears and feels horrible. i know exactly how Joe felt there. but his father didnt scream, and his father didnt smile it away. he just held his son and said that it was just a fishing rod, and he would get another. because when something is gone, it is gone. you cant bring it back by missing it. but you can console those that are still around. make the best with what you have, in a way.

when the nurse who cares for Joe’s armless, legless, faceless, speechless, sightless, body feels for him, you can feel it too. she looks at his destroyed and worthless body and brings him pleasure. just something to remind him he is alive. they begin a romance that no able body’s person could understand. even she doesnt understand what her love and compassion does for him. in her love he finds life again. but like all things we as humans treasure, it is taken away by another human.

when Joe finally finds a way to communicate, after years and years spent laying in a closet with tubes to feed and breath for him, he is ignored. he taps out Morse code with his head, and the nurse gets someone to help. the soldier can tell what he is saying, ‘SOS’. but the generals, the withering old men who stood around and watched at the boy they found was studied and locked away in a forgotten closet, they dont listen. Joe cries for something. he says he wants to go out side, be seen by the world. he wasnt to be a lesson against war. but that is ignored. so he asks to be killed. the generals leave. the nurse is sent away, never to return, and the ‘bad guys’ dont learn their lesson. Joe is left to tap out ‘Kill Me’ over and over again.

the priest who stands near the bed with the generals is told that he should tell Joe not to yearn for death. but the priest cant blame the poor man. he responds with ‘He is a product of your profession, not mine’. and he is right.

faith doesnt kill people. faith keeps people alive. faith is the love that nurse gave Joe. faith is the only thing some people have. its war, the army, organized aggression… thats what kills people. thats what leaves men shells of what they were.

[the film has been released on DVD for the first time ever (officially) recently. the DVD cut is the most comprehensive cut available. it is only missing one 11 second shot of full frontal nudity, but the shot was only available in lesser quality prints than the one that was transferred for this DVD. the company doing the transfer decided that the one 11 second shot wasnt worth investing all the money into cleaning and restoring the film. i agree. it can be found on Amazon and anywhere DVDs are sold.]

Normblog comments on another blogger’s claim that when people make a noise or allow their children to make a noise in public they are stealing from us. He sympathises with the way she feels, but makes the very sensible point that beyond its use as a form of torture, there are no real rights in relation to noise in public spaces, only social conventions. He ends by saying:

And the way things have been going, socially acceptable is now more noisy than some of us enjoy.

I wonder though: is this true? In many ways i think the problem is not so much that people are increasingly noisy as that so many of us are increasingly unused to the noise that other people make. The high-tech world may have given us the leaky earphone, so often mentioned in noise-related complaints; but it has also given us online shopping, social networking and myriad other things, which tend to make us increasingly self-sufficient and reduce our need for actual contact with other human beings.

In our own private world everything is under control. Telly too loud for you? Turn it down. Don’t feel like chatting to your ‘friends’? Don’t log on. And so many of those keen to criticise other people’s leaking earphones are plugged into their own half the time, which may well leak too. How many of us ever bother to find out?

It’s a vicious circle, because the more we withdraw from other people, the more sensitised we become to them: the noise they make, the space they take up, the demands they make on us; and the more sensitised we become the less we are able to endure other people and so the more we withdraw from them. In the end it’s as much as we can take to hear the sound of other people breathing, and even that had better be quiet: no coughs please.

We lose the ability to appreciate the ideas that others may have about public space -  especially when those others are a different generation from us or from a different culture. We end up living in our universe and experiencing those around us as we would alien invaders.

When i was a child i used to get the bus with my mum or my nan. There was no option to sit and read a book, let alone listen to music – even if earphones had been invented then. Social participation in public was compulsory. You were grilled by countless old ladies about your accomplishments at school (God help you if you didn’t have any), subjected to elaborate enquiries about the health of any relative whose name they could remember and regaled with instructive stories about “the War” and “the Olden Days”. The trick, as i recall, was to fix on your face the most attentive expression you could muster and pretend they hadn’t told you the same tale the week before.

The noise and chaos of children was widely tolerated – people spent time with them more often so they were used to them; and yet at the same time it was better controlled because when people interact with one another – as opposed to ignore one another – they form a group with the power to enforce group norms.

I’m not saying i always liked it because i didn’t. I am an unsociable curmudgeon of a person and i was more than happy to move down to London where i could read my book in peace, unbothered by so much as a “Nice weather… for the time of year”; but I am coming to understand now that as much as i gained peace in the short term i have also gradually lost something. I live by myself and truly wonder if i could ever live with anyone else again. And i wonder what this bodes for me when i’m older.

China’s Golden Shield Project has several US corporations such as IBM, General Electric, and Honeywell working closely with the Chinese government to install millions of surveillance cameras throughout the country, along with advanced video analysis and facial recognition software, which will identify and track individuals everywhere they go. They will be connected to a centralised database and monitoring station, which will, upon completion of the project, contain a picture of the face of every person in China – over 1.3 billion people.

Law enforcement and intelligence services in the UK and the US possess technology to remotely activate the microphones in cellphones, by accessing the phone’s diagnostic/maintenance features, in order to listen to conversations that take place nearby the person who holds the phone. Mobile phones are also commonly used to collect location data.

In the US, for instance, under the Communications Assistance For Law Enforcement Act, all phone calls, VoIP and broadband internet traffic (emails, web traffic, instant messaging, etc) are required to be available for unimpeded real-time monitoring by federal law enforcement agencies. Computers are also a surveillance target because of the personal data stored on them. If someone is able to install software (either physically or remotely), such as the FBI’s “Magic Lantern” and Computer and IP verification (CIPAV), on a computer system, they can easily gain unauthorised access to this data. Another form of computer surveillance, known as TEMPEST, involves reading electromagnetic emanations from computing devices in order to extract data from them at distances of hundreds of meters.

Surveillance cameras are often connected to a recording device, IP network, and/or watched by a security guard/law enforcement officer. In the UK, for instance, there are about 4.2 million surveillance cameras — one camera for every 14 people. (via How other countries fare).

The Red Rage

There is a increasing chorus in India that such a ‘surveillance’ regime is needed in India also. A undermanned police managed a low crime society in India till now. The excuse of terrorism is being used to advance the case for a police state in India also – like the UK, USA, China etc.

Lalgarh has proved one thing – purusharth in India is still alive and well. Moksh मोक्ष is the ultimate aim of all humans – and the meaning of moksh is freedom, emancipation, deliverance. Moksh is one of the four objectives (धर्म अर्थ, काम, मोक्ष)in the Indian ethical code of पुरुषार्थ.

Santhals and the British

In Lalgarh, middle aged Santhal women, armed with spears, axes and knives came out to battle a repressive state which sold out to Big Business. For nearly a 100 years, a 100 years ago, the same Santhals had fought the British Raj earlier. When so many women come out in the open, with bows and arrows, one thing is clear.

There are more where they come from.

The excuse for extending power

So, whether it is Red Rage or Green Jihad, the State just needs an excuse to extend its power – and this ‘surveillance’ raj is one part of it.

The Aerial Reconnaissance Archives (Tara) have been opened to the public and holds more than 10 million photographs, growing as more images are declassified. People will be soon able to view the images online, buy a subscription to see it in higher resolution, order photos or arrange a visit to the archive in Edinburgh.

Allan Williams, manager of the National Collection of Aerial Photography based in Edinburgh:

”The skill of the photo reconnaissance pilot was incredible – they were among the best pilots in the air force,”

”As so many of them lost their lives the archive has become a memorial to them and the events on the ground they photographed. How they could take the photos they did is astonishing.

”When you remember they were taken in combat, and often being shot at – it’s astounding.”

Mr Williams said the evidence provided by the imagery, enables people to build up a map of the world as it was during key moments of the past – something Mr Williams likened to a virtual time machine.

”The archive literally shows the world at war,”

As well as thier historical interest, many of the images expose the beauty in simply capturing information. Part of the reason many photographers are drawn to landscape photography and such an unusual perspective makes it a fascinating archive.

A Zwangsarbeiter, or slave labour camp, at Gustavsburg near Mainz, Hessen, Germany. The camp provided workers for the neighbouring heavy machinery company

For more information and to see the images visit www.evidenceincamera.co.uk

Relaxing in the Princes St Gardens, three old friends, Margaret Cameron, Helen Baillie and Flora Smith laugh as they reminisce their younger years.

The jolly “ladies of leisure” as they call themselves, are all in their mid-70s and talking about their move to the “concrete jungle” of Cumbernauld, 47 years ago.

Created in 1962 as an overspill town, Cumbernauld, being described in an affectionate way as “not the most beautiful place”, accommodated people who got squeezed out of Glasgow after the Second World War. The population boomed when the soldiers came back and started their own families. A huge amount of people lost their homes to tall, ugly, high-rise flats and many people had only two options: To live in a monstrous high-rise, or move out of Glasgow to a pre-fabricated house in a purpose built town. Since the ladies all had young families at that point, Flora’s son only being “a year old”, they put their names down to move out of the city.

Adjusting to the sudden move, a completely different place, and a new full-time job to pay the higher prices of this town, was hard. They had been split from other friends who were bundled off to other overspill towns such as Livingston and St Kilbride.

The first year was the toughest. Everything still so unfamiliar, rushing to find childcare so they could work, and the winter of 62/63 saw a huge snowfall. “You couldn’t see the garden or the roads! … We weren’t used to that” Margaret remembers.

The moving scheme allowed the ladies’ parents to join them in Cumbernauld to create a varied age group in the town. This gave them support and gradually a strong community feel came through from the residents of this new town. Everyone was in the same boat.

Margaret, Flora and Helen agreed it was a difficult time, but they stuck together with the rest of the community, ground the town into life, and they remain living there today. They are enjoying their retirement, getting together for games of pool, carpet bowls and of course dominoes. “The auld, what’s it called, Cumbernauld!” they cheerily chant as I take the photo of these three, life-long, best friends.