The Turner Diaries: A Novel Read online

  Despite the narrower scope of my work here, it's still going more slowly than in Dallas, because things are so spread out. It was deemed inadvisable to try to hold classes for 26 people at a time, so I meet with six here m Denver; 11 in Boulder, a college town about 20 miles north of here; and nine in a farmhouse just south of here. I see each group every third day, but I give them plenty of homework to do between meetings.

  We've initiated virtually no violent actions against the System in the Rocky Mountain area so far, and the general atmosphere here is quite a bit more relaxed than along the East Coast. Something very unpleasant happened last week, though, which serves as a grim reminder that the struggle here will be just as brutal and vicious as anywhere else.

  One of our members, a construction worker, was caught trying to sneak a few sticks of dynamite off the construction site where he was employed. Apparently he had been smuggling a dozen or so out in his lunch box every day for quite a while.

  The site guard turned him over to the local sheriff, who immediately searched the man's house and found not only a big cache of dynamite but also several guns - and some Organization literature. The sheriff figured he had stumbled onto something which could really give a boost to his career. If he could crack the Organization in the Rocky Mountain area, the System would be very grateful to him. He would have a good chance of winning a seat in the state legislature, perhaps even becoming lieutenant governor or being appointed to some other high post in the state government.

  So the sheriff and his deputies began beating our man, trying to make him name other Organization members. They gave him a vicious working over, but he wouldn't talk. Then they brought in the man's wife and began slapping and kicking her around in his presence.

  The outcome was that our man, in desperation, snatched a revolver from the holster of one of the deputies. He was shot dead by another deputy before he could pull the trigger. The wife was handed over to the FBI and flown back to Washington for interrogation. She should not be able to give them any significant information, but I shudder to think of the ordeal to which she is being submitted.

  The sheriff's glory was short-lived, however. The evening of the day our member was killed, the sheriff appeared in a televised news interview, boasting of the blow he had struck in the name of law, order, and equality and pompously warning that he would treat with equal ruthlessness any other "racists" who fell into his hands.

  When he arrived home that night after his TV interview, he found his wife on his living-room floor, with her throat cut. Two days later his patrol car was ambushed. His bullet-riddled body was found in its burned-out wreckage.

  It is a terrible thing to kill women of our own race, but we are engaged in a war in which all the old rules have been scrapped. We are in a war to the death with the Jew, who now feels himself so close to his final victory that he can safely drop his mask and'] treat his enemies as the "cattle" his religion tells him they are. q Our retribution against the sheriff here should serve as a warning -~~ to the Jew's Gentile henchmen, at least, that if they adopt the X Jew's attitude toward our women and children, then they cannot s expect their own families to be safe. (Note to the reader: Several 1 sets of books containing the Jewish religious doctrine, which was 1 called "Judaism," are still extant today. These books, the S Talmud and the Torah, do, indeed, refer to non-Jews as, "cattle." Especially horrifying to us is the attitude the Jews had toward non-Jewish women. The word they used to designate a girl of our race was "shiksa," which was derived from the Hebrew word meaning both "abomination" and "non-kosher meat" or "unclean meat.")

  June 21. I was stopped at a police roadblock driving back from Boulder tonight. No problem getting through it; they just checked my driver's license (i.e., the late and unlamented David S. Bloom's license), asked me where I was going, and took a quick look in the car. But the roadblock had traffic backed up for miles, and other motorists were really fuming. One of them told me this is the first time they've used roadblocks in this area.

  The roadblock and a couple of hints I've caught on news broadcasts in the last few days lead me to believe that the System knows something big is cooking. I hope they don't tighten up security out here the way they have back on the East Coast, it'll mess up our plans if they do.

  On the other hand, it'll do these bumpkins around here a lot of good to get a full dose of Big Brother's loving care. Most of them hardly ever see a Black or a Jew, and they act as if there's not a war going on. They seem to think that they're far enough away from the things that are plaguing other parts of the country that they can keep on with their same old routine. They resent any hint that they may have to halt their pursuit of pleasure and affluence long enough to cut a cancer out of America that will surely destroy us all if it's not eliminated soon. But it's always been that way with Boobus Americanus.

  I'm quite concerned that I've heard no news of Evanston. I've been expecting the raid there every day since the last week of last month. Has there been more trouble with Harrison? Or has Revolutionary Command decided to postpone the Evanston raid, perhaps until our big offensive next month?

  There was no indication of such a postponement at my last briefing. More than likely the trouble is Harrison, damn him! When I recalculated the hit probability on the target at the range given me by our Chicago mortar team just before I left Washington for Dallas, I decided we should distribute our radioactive contaminant among five rounds instead of only three. That gives us a probability of nearly 90 per cent that we'll get one or more rounds into the generator building. But Harrison may have balked at having to handle that much ordnance. If that's the case, why hasn't someone told me?

  I'm also becoming concerned that I've received no orders as to what I'm to do when I finish my work here next week. If I don't get back to Washington then, I'm afraid I may not make it before the big push starts. I want to be back there with Katherine and the others when everything hits the fan next month. And I can't see any reason why I shouldn't, because there will hardly be time to send me anywhere else to set up another training course in special ordnance.

  Chapter XIX

  June 27, 1993. So, I finally have my orders! It's to be California for me during our big summer offensive. At first I was very disappointed that I won't be able to go back to Washington, but the more I consider the implications of some of the things I was told this afternoon, the more I'm convinced that the real focus of our activity in the next few weeks will be on the West Coast. It looks like I'll be in the thick of things there, and that will be a welcome change from all this classroom work, at least.

  Denver Field Command summoned me and six of my pupils to a meeting today on two hours' notice. We were told almost nothing, except that I and four of the others are to be in Los Angeles by Wednesday night at the latest. The last two were given a destination in San Mateo, just outside San Francisco.

  I protested immediately and vehemently: "All these people have been trained especially to attack specific targets in this area. And they've been trained as teams. It doesn't make sense to break them up now and send some of them to California, when they can be so much more effective here. If they are sent away, our whole program for the Rocky Mountain area will be jeopardized."

  The two DFC officers at the meeting assured me that their decision had not been made capriciously and that they are fully cognizant of the validity of my objections, but that more pressing considerations must prevail. I finally forced them to reveal that they had received an urgent order from Revolutionary Command to transfer every activist they could spare to the West Coast immediately. Apparently other field commands all over the country have received similar orders.

  They were reluctant to say more, but from the emphasis they put on our deadline for reporting to our California destinations, I strongly suspect that things are set to blow sometime next week.

  I did accomplish one thing this afternoon: I arranged to have Albert Mason, who was to go to San Mateo but whose presence here is really essential to the s
uccess of the operations planned for this area, swapped for another man. But I had trouble gaining even that concession. I insisted on knowing exactly what criteria had been used in selecting the men to be transferred. It turned out that, except in my case, there were two: infantry combat experience and rifle marksmanship-which makes it look like they want snipers and barricade fighters out on the Coast, rather than saboteurs and demolition experts.

  Al, it is true, qualified as an "expert" with the rifle when he was in the service, and he spent three years as a squad leader in Southeast Asia. (Note to the reader: Turner is referring to the so-called "Vietnam War," which had been over for two decades at the time but which played an enormously important role in laying the groundwork for the Organization's later success in dealing with the System's armed forces.) But he has also been my best pupil here. He is the one man I spent time with explaining some of the newer military gadgets we expect to acquire in our raids on the arsenals around here. He is the only one I am sure will be able to use the new M-58 laser range finders, for example, and teach our mortar teams how to use them too. And he is also the only one here to whom I taught enough basic electronics so that he can rig up the radio-controlled detonators which are an essential part of our plan for knocking out the highway network in this area and keeping it knocked out.

  Only when I pointed out these things to DFC did they agree to let Al stay here. We then spent half an hour going over a list of all the other activists here before we found one I thought could go to California in Al's place without jeopardizing things here and who also satisfied their criteria.

  My impression is that everything we planned for this area is still "go," and it is still considered important for us to achieve our objectives here, but the really critical theater of operations will be the West Coast. We are approximately doubling our manpower there with these last-minute transfers, but we are doing it in such a way that at least most of the operations planned for other areas can go ahead, though with fewer personnel.

  Well, we only have 48 hours to drive more than 1,000 miles, and there's no telling how many checkpoints we'll be stopped at. The others will be by to pick me up in about two hours, and then it'll take me at least four hours to pack my gadgets in the car so they won't be found if we're searched. I think I'll take a quick nap now.

  July 1. Wow! Are things tense here! We arrived yesterday, around one in the morning, after a trip I'd just as soon forget. The others are dispersed to their assigned units, but I'm staying with Los Angeles Northwest Field Command temporarily, in a place called Canoga Park, about 20 miles northwest of Los Angeles proper.

  It is apparent that the Organization is much more solidly entrenched here than elsewhere, simply from the fact that there are eight different field commands in the Los Angeles metropolitan area, whereas one suffices for most other major cities in the country. That would indicate an underground membership here in the 500-700 range.

  Mostly, I've been catching up on my sleep since I arrived, but the other people here don't seem to be doing any sleeping at all. Couriers are constantly coming and going, and conferences are being held at all hours. This evening I finally buttonholed someone and got at least a partial briefing on the situation.

  A simultaneous assault on more than 600 military and civilian targets all over the country has been scheduled for next Monday morning, July 4. Unfortunately, however, one of our members here was picked up by the police on Wednesday, just a few hours before our arrival. It seems to have been just a fluke. He was stopped on the street for a routine identification check, and the cops became suspicious about something.

  Since the man is not in the Order, he was neither prepared nor under an absolute obligation to kill himself if captured. The great worry for the last two days has been that, under torture, he will reveal enough of what he knows to tip off the System to the fact that a major assault is scheduled for Monday. Then, even though the authorities won't know just which targets we plan to hit, they'll tighten up security everywhere to the point that our casualties will be unbearably high.

  Revolutionary Command has two choices: silence our man before he can be interrogated, or reschedule our entire offensive. The latter choice is almost unthinkable: too many things have been carefully arranged and synchronized in detail for next Monday to allow the date to be advanced, and a postponement might run into months-with enormous risks attendant on having so many people, already primed for Monday, knowing so much for so long.

  So it was decided yesterday to act on the first choice. But even that presents a major problem: we can't hit our man here in Los Angeles without risking blowing the cover of one of our most valuable legals, a special agent in the FBI's Los Angeles office. That's because the prisoner is being held in a location which is supposed to be a big secret. If we raid the place, they'll only have; half-a-dozen people to suspect as the one who leaked the information to us.

  The System's customary procedure when they pick up one of our people is to perform only a very cursory interrogation in the field-just enough to determine whether there is any indication that the prisoner is connected in any way with the Organization. If there is, then he is flown back to Washington for a thorough working over by their Israeli torture specialists. And the latter is what we can't afford to let happen.

  The interesting thing in this particular case-and the thing which has kept Revolutionary Command in a state of agonized indecision for two days now-is that the FBI has been holding the prisoner here, instead of flying him back to the Washington headquarters Thursday morning, as soon as they suspected they had an Organization member. No one seems to know exactly why, not even our FBI legal. It may just be an instance of organizational inefficiency on their part. Or perhaps they're bringing an interrogation team out here from Washington this time, contrary to their previous routine.

  Anyway, RC has decided to hold off on the hit and see what happens. If no move is made to put the prisoner on a plane for Washington or to interrogate him further here within the next 36 hours, the problem will be solved; any information the System extracts from him will come too late to interfere with our Monday schedule. But if a transfer or an interrogation seems imminent before Sunday afternoon, we're prepared to launch a lightning raid on the FBI's secret prison here, even at the risk of losing our inside man in the local FBI office, whose information in coming months can be invaluable to us.

  As for me, I still don't know why I'm here or what I'm supposed to do, and I'm not sure anyone else does either. I was just told to wait.

  Well, I guess we're really facing a major test again, like we did in September 1991. It just seems incredible to me that the Organization is actually launching an all-out assault on the System in two days. The total number of men we can put on the firing line, for the whole country, can't be more than 1,500, despite the very rapid gains in recruiting we've made in the last few months. Altogether-including our support personnel, our female members, and our legals-our strength can't possibly exceed 5,000 people, and I'd estimate that nearly a third of them are concentrated here in California now. It just seems unreal- like a gnat planning to assassinate an elephant.

  Of course, we're not expecting the System to collapse Monday. If it did we wouldn't know how to cope with the situation, because the Organization is still far too small to take over the running of the country and the rebuilding of American society. We'll need an infrastructure 100 times as large as we have now to even begin tackling that job.

  What we will do Monday is escalate the conflict to a new level and forestall the System's latest strategy for dealing with us. We really have no choice in the matter; if the Organization is to survive and continue growing under the very difficult circumstances which have been imposed on us, we must maintain our momentum-especially our psychological momentum.

  The danger in not constantly escalating the war is that the System will find a new equilibrium, and the public will become accustomed to it. The only way to maintain the present influx of recruits is to keep a subs
tantial portion of the public psychologically off balance-keep them at least half convinced that the System isn't strong enough and efficient enough to wipe us out, that we are an irresistible force, that sooner or later the war will sweep them, too, up in it.

  Otherwise, the worthless bastards will take the easy way out by just sitting back to see what happens. The American people have already proved that they can shamelessly continue their crass pursuit of pleasure under the most provocative conditions imaginable - so long as new provocations are introduced gradually enough for them to become accustomed to them. That's our greatest danger in not acting.

  Besides that, however, the political police are continually tightening the screws. Despite our extraordinary security procedures, they will eventually succeed in penetrating the Organization and wrecking us-if we give them time. And it's becoming harder all the time for us to move around without being picked up. Very soon now, the new internal passport system which we wrecked more than a year ago will be back on the tracks, twice as mean as before. I don't know how we'll survive when that becomes operational.

  Thinking back over the last two years, though, it's amazing that we've survived even until now. There have been a hundred times when I didn't know how we'd be able to last another month.

  Part of the reason we've been able to make it this far is something for which we really can't take credit-and that's the inefficiency of the System. They've made some bad mistakes and failed to follow up on a lot of things which could have hurt us badly.