The Blood Flag by James W. Huston Page B

*
    A few days after I got back to D.C., while researching everything I could on al-Hadi, I began my baptism into Nazism. I finished
Mein Kampf
then stayed up past midnight for several nights as I read Ian Kershaw’s massive two-volume biography of Hitler. Then I watched films on the Nazis from Netflix and Time Life, and one in particular,
Nazism
in America
. Finally I watched
Triumph of the Will
, the 1934 film by Leni Riefenstahl. I started to get it. Hitler’s core belief was that Germany was being ruined. Morally and politically ruined. And he knew who was doing it. He fomented hatred against them for what they were doing to Germany. He called for hatred of those who would destroy his great country. It was the Jews, the Communists, the immigrants, and they all deserved hatred. He called on Germans to hate those causing the moral and political decline of the German people. But that was only half of the story. The other half was his
message
to his followers on who
they
were. He persuaded his downtrodden followers that they were
not
worthless people from a bankrupt country; they were
proud Aryans
, the greatest people ever, from a country which would rise again from the ashes if they would trust him! They belonged to a great nation that would be great again under National Socialism and its mesmerizing symbol—the swastika. My wife thought I was going over the edge. My children said I was neglecting them. But I had to understand Nazism under Hitler, and I had to understand neo-Nazism now.
    I went to see Karl again. I had mostly stayed out of his way after I had come back, other than telling him about my Asheville meeting. I said, “I need to get over to Germany.”
    â€œGermany? Not on our nickel.”
    â€œOn my own. On vacation.”
    â€œGot to give you credit for determination.”
    â€œBut I need a contact. Who do you deal with at the BKA?”
    Karl seemed to be thinking about whether to tell me the man’s name. “Why do you need him?”
    â€œI’ve got to understand what’s going on in Germany. What do they know about Eidhalt? And to help me figure out what will make him interested in the Southern Volk.”
    He took a deep breath and finally said, “The BKA guy I know spends a lot of his time in Munich. He gets all over Germany, especially Dresden, where a lot of the stuff is happening. His name is Florian Köhler.”
    â€œDo you have his email?”
    He turned toward his computer, looked up his contacts, and forwarded his contact to me. I looked at my BlackBerry and saw that it had arrived. “Thanks. Does he know about Jedediah?”
    â€œJust that we’ve got a guy.”
    â€œYou got any problem if I call Florian today?”
    â€œGo ahead.”
    I nodded, gave him a wave of thanks, and returned to my office. I didn’t want to waste any time at all. I picked up my phone and dialed.
* * *
    Germany was six hours ahead. The phone rang three times and an energetic voice answered in German.
    â€œI’m Kyle Morrissey. I’m with the FBI. Trying to reach Florian Köhler.”
    â€œYes,” he said switching to English. “This is Florian Köhler.”
    â€œSorry to bother you. You’re probably pretty tied up with the bombings.”
    â€œNo, that’s another department. I’m not involved.”
    â€œOkay. Then let me tell you what I’m doing. I’m working with Karl Matthews, developing something that I think I need your help with. I’d like to come over and meet with you.”
    â€œWhat is it you’re working on?”
    â€œI’d rather not discuss it on the phone. It’d be better in person. I can come to Berlin, or Munich, or wherever you’d like to meet.”
    â€œWhy here?”
    â€œTo learn from you, and to discuss what I am trying to accomplish.” He was skeptical. “And exactly what is it you are trying to accomplish?”
    â€œWell that’s what I