Other Worlds: The Turner Diaries, Chapter 22. A Puke(TM) Audiobook

The Turner Diaries, Chapter 22. A Puke(TM) AudiobookShow more

Chapter Twenty-two.

July 19, 1993. For the past five days I've been witnessing what
surely must be one of the biggest mass migrations in history: the
evacuation of the liberals and mestizos and "boat people" from
southern California. We've been marching them to the east at a rate
of better than a million a day, and there still seems to be no end to
them.
I learned at our unit meeting this evening, however, that
tomorrow is expected to be the last full day of evacuation. After
that, it'll just be a matter of sending them across the lines in
batches of a few thousand at a time, as we round up strays and
finish separating some areas which are still racially mixed.
My men and I have had the responsibility of finding
transportation for those unable to make the trek on foot. We started
with flatbed trucks and large tractor-trailer rigs able to haul a
couple of hundred people at a time, and we ended up using every
delivery van and panel truck we could find in or near the evacuated
liberal and Chicano neighborhoods: nearly 6,000 trucks altogether.
At first we tried to do a careful job of making sure each truck
had just enough fuel in its tank to make the one-way trip into
enemy territory, but that took too long, and so we settled for
trying to be reasonably sure that each vehicle had at least enough
fuel for the trip.
Late yesterday we began running out of trucks, and so all day
today we have been using passenger cars. I broke up the roughly
300 men under me into squads of 10. Each squad rounded up
approximately 50 young liberal volunteers-with the promise of
food-who claim they are experienced at jumping the ignition on
cars.
Then our squads began ferrying every parked car, from
Volkswagens to Cadillacs, which can be started and whose fuel
gauge indicates at least a quarter of a tank of gasoline, into
the packed debarkation areas.

There our liberal car-thief volunteers
hustle a pregnant Negress or an elderly cripple behind the wheel,
pack the vehicle with as many picaninnies and miscellaneous lame,
sick, and halt non-Whites as it can possibly carry-sometimes
piling them on roofs and fenders- and send it on its way. Then back
for more cars.
I have been surprised to see how callous our volunteer liberals are
toward their own people. Some of the older liberals, who haven't
been able to fend for themselves, are obviously near the point of
death from starvation and dehydration, yet our volunteers handle
them so roughly and pack them so tightly into the cars that it
makes me flinch to watch them. When one overloaded Cadillac
started onto the eastbound freeway with a lurch this morning, an
ancient Negro lost his grip and fell off the roof, landing headfirst
on the pavement and crushing his skull like an egg. The liberals
who had just loaded the car roared with laughter; it was apparently
the funniest thing they've seen in a long time.
Our logistics have been terrible. We've violated every security
rule in the book and taken some extraordinary risks. There were
hundreds of times when the liberals could have jumped us, because
we were spread so thin and often obliged to work deep within their
jam-packed enclaves without backup personnel to rescue us in the
event of trouble.
I really don't have enough men to handle this job properly, and
we've all been working at least 18 hours a day, often not stopping
to rest until we're so tired we're stumbling. It's a good thing
tomorrow is the last day, because I don't think my men can last
much longer-or our luck either.
What we've accomplished so far is really quite remarkable,
though. We've moved out approximately half a million non-Whites
who couldn't possibly have made it on foot.

Each and every one of
these is now the responsibility of the System-to feed and house and
clothe and keep out of trouble.
Together with the seven million or
so able-bodied liberals and Chicanos we're sending them, that's
quite a responsibility
This whole evacuation amounts to a new form of warfare:
demographic war. Not only are we getting the non-Whites out of
our area, but we're doing two additional things which should pay
off for us later by getting them into the enemy's area: we're
overloading the System's already strained economy, and we're
making life next to intolerable for the Whites in the border areas.
Even after the evacuees have been dispersed around the country,
they will constitute about a 25 per cent increase in the average
nonwhite population density outside California. Even the most
brainwashed White liberals should find this increased dose of
"brotherhood" hard to swallow.
On my way to the unit meeting about an hour ago, I stopped at an
overlook above the main evacuation route out of Los Angeles. It
was after sunset, but still light enough to see well, and I was awed
by the sight of the enormous stream of colored life moving slowly
to the east. As far as I could see in either direction, the
unwholesome flood crept along. Later we'll switch on the street
lamps along the freeway, and the march will go on all night. Then,
in the heat of the morning, the evacuation of the able-bodied ones
will be reined in enough so that we will have room on the freeway
for our vehicles to get through again. We found out at the
beginning that when we tried keeping the marchers going during
the day they dropped like flies.
The sight of that huge, flowing swarm of non-Whites left me with
an overwhelming feeling of relief that it was moving away from
us, out of our area. And I shuddered with revulsion at the thought
of being at the other end of the evacuation route and seeing that
swarm moving toward me, into my area.

If the System bosses had the option, they'd turn the liberals back
at the border with machine guns. But with the border manned with
mostly non-White troops, it is pretty hard to give the order to fire
on that non-White flood. Since the inundation began, they haven't
been able to figure any way to stop it.
They are trapped by their own propaganda line, which maintains
that each of those creatures is an "equal," with "human dignity"
and so forth, and must be treated accordingly. Yes, sir, things are
looking up here, and I'm sure they're looking liberaler and liberaler
elsewhere!
The proof of that is the counterflow of White refugees into our
area from the east. From a hundred or so a day 10 days ago, their
numbers have grown to several thousand a day. Our border guards
have processed a total of more than 25,000 Whites coming across
the line, up to this afternoon.
Most of these, it seems, are simply running to get away from the
liberal troops and the liberal and Chicano evacuees who have
flooded the enemy's border areas. If it is easier for them to run
west than east, they run west.
But about 10 per cent of them are not from the border areas at all.
They are White volunteers who have deliberately crossed over to
join our fight. Some have come from as far as the East Coast,
whole families as well as young men, who made their decision as
soon as it became apparent to the country that our revolution has
indeed established a foothold here.
July 24. Boy! I'm really becoming a Jack of all trades. I just got
back to HQ from a repair trip to the big switching station outside
Santa Barbara. It's been acting up, knocking out our electrical
power here every day or so, and I had to figure out what was
wrong and get a repair crew to fix it. I'll certainly be glad when we
get the civilian population here organized, so that the people
who're supposed to keep the utilities running are back on the job
again.

But we must do first things first, and that means reestablishing
public order and insuring an adequate food supply. We still don't
have order, but we're now bringing almost enough food into the
metropolitan area to keep the people from starving. I got some
insight into how we're managing that during the Santa Barbara trip.
In the countryside I passed literally hundreds of organized groups
of White youngsters, some working in the orchards and fruit
groves, others marching along the road singing, with fruit baskets
slung across their shoulders. They all looked tanned and happy and
healthy. Quite a difference from the hunger and the rioting in the
cities!
I had my driver stop as we came abreast of a group of about 20
young girls, all wearing heavy work gloves and miscellaneously
dressed in shorts and overalls. Their leader was a freckled 15-
yearold with pigtails who happily identified her group as the 128th
Los Angeles Food Brigade. They had just finished five hours of
fruit-picking and were headed for lunch at their tent camp down
the road.
Well, I thought to myself, this is hardly a brigade, but obviously a
lot more organizing of the civilian population has been going on
than I've been aware of. I knew the girl was too young to be a
member of the Organization, and, it soon developed, she was
totally innocent of any political understanding whatever.
All she knew was that things back in the city are frightening and
unpleasant, and so when the nice lady with the armband at the
emergency food-distribution center had talked to her and her
parents and told them that youngsters who volunteered for farm
work would be looked after and well fed, they had agreed she
should go. That was a week ago, and yesterday she had been
appointed the leader of her group of girls.
I asked her what she thinks about her work. She said it is hard,
but she knows it is important for her and her girls to pick as much
fruit as possible, so their parents and friends back in the city will
be able to eat. The adults at the camp have explained to them what
an important responsibility they have.

Had they also been told about the significance of the revolution?
No, she doesn't know anything about that, just that the Chicano
farm workers have left, and now the White people will have to do
all their work. She thinks that is probably a good idea. Other than
that, all that the girls have been taught is how to do their particular
job-and the work songs and the hygiene lectures in the evenings,
around the campfire.
Well, that's not a bad beginning for 12- to 15-year-olds. There
will be time for their further education later. If only the adults were
as cooperative as the kids!
The girls did have one complaint: their food. There was plenty of
it, but it was all fruits and vegetables; no meat, no milk, not even
any bread. Obviously, the people who're organizing the food
brigades have a few logistic problems yet to work out too. We
swapped the girls half a case of canned sardines and some boxes of
soda crackers we had in the car in return for a basket of apples, and
both sides felt they had gotten a good deal.
Coming through the mountains just north of Los Angeles we
encountered a long column of marchers, heavily guarded by GI's
and Organization personnel. As we drove slowly past, I observed
the prisoners closely, trying to decide what they were. They didn't
seem to be liberals or Chicanos, and yet only a few of them
appeared to be Whites. Many of the faces were distinctly Jewish,
while others had features or hair suggesting a Negroid taint. The
head of the column turned off the main roadway into a little-used
ranger trail which disappeared into a boulder-strewn canyon, while
the tail stretched for several miles back toward the city. There may
have been as many as 50,000 marchers, representing all ages and
both sexes, just in the portion of the column we passed.
Back at HQ I inquired about the strange column.

No one was
sure, although the consensus was that they were the Jews and the
mixedbreeds of too light a hue to be included with the evacuees
who were sent east. I remember now something which puzzled me
a few days ago: the separation of the very light liberals-the almost
Whites, the octoroons and quadroons, the unclassifiable mongrels
from various Asian and southern climes-from the others during the
concentration and evacuation operations.
And I think I now understand. The clearly distinguishable
nonwhite are the ones we want to increase the racial pressure on
the Whites outside California. The presence of more almost-White
mongrels would merely confuse the issue-and there is always the
danger that they will later "pass" as White. Better to deal with
them now, as soon as we get our hands on them. I have a suspicion
their trip into that canyon north of here will be a one-way affair!
But obviously there's still a lot of sifting-out to do. We have
cleared the all-liberal and all-Chicano areas and certain all-Jewish
neighborhoods, but there are still areas, comprising nearly half the
urban territory under our control, where utter chaos prevails Jews
in these areas, working with reactionary elements among the
Whites, are becoming more brazen by the day. There is nearly
continuous demonstrating and rioting going on in the worst
sections, and the Jews are using leaflets and other means to
maintain the general unrest in other sections. Since Friday four of
our people have been killed by snipers. Something must be done
soon!
July 25. A very pleasant contrast today with most of my work of
late: I spent the day interviewing some of the volunteers who have
crossed into our area since July 4, trying to pick a hundred or so
for a special problem-solving group which will begin doing in a
regular and systematic way the sort of engineering and logistic
chores I and my crew have been stuck with till now.
The people I talked to had been pre-screened before they got to
me, and they all have an engineering or industrial-management
background.

There are about 300 men, plus a hundred or so wives
and children, which is an indication of the really substantial flow
of new blood into our area. I don't know what the total is up to
now, but I do know that the Organization has increased its strength
in California several times over in the last three weeks- and we are
taking as members only a small fraction of the new volunteers.
The great majority have either been organized into labor brigades,
primarily for farm work, or, in the case of most of the males of
military age, put into Army uniforms and given rifles we've
salvaged from one of the bombed-out National Guard armories. In
the latter way we are gradually increasing the overall reliability, if
not the proficiency, of the military force under our control. Many
of these "instant soldiers" have had little or no military training,
and we haven't had a chance yet to give them any of the
ideological preparation which the new Organization members are
receiving, yet they are clearly more sympathetic to our cause, on
the average, than the regular GI's. We are integrating them into the
regular units as rapidly as we can.
I queried the people I saw today about their present living
arrangements and family situations as well as about their training
and work experience. Nearly all of them have been assigned to a
block of recently vacated housing in a former liberal area, just
south of Los Angeles proper. The Organization has set up a new
unit HQ in a small apartment building there, and that's where the
interviews took place.
There were very few complaints from the people I talked to,
although they all mentioned the extraordinarily filthy condition of
the buildings into which they have moved. Some of the apartment
units are so saturated with filth they are simply not habitable.
Everyone, however, has pitched in cheerfully, and the disinfecting,
scrubbing, and repainting effort has made a remarkable
transformation in just a couple of days.

I made a brief inspection tour, and it was heartwarming to see
pretty, White children playing quietly where previously hordes of
screaming, young liberals had swarmed. A group of about two
dozen parents were still working on the grounds around the
apartments. They have collected a small mountain of litter: beer
cans, cigarette wrappers, empty TV-dinner cartons, demolished
furniture, and rusted-out appliances. Two women have marked off
a sizable area of barren, thoroughly trampled lawn with stakes and
string and are spading up the earth for a community vegetable
garden. In windows which had previously known only torn paper
shades, bright curtains-improvised from bed sheets and home-
dyed, I imagine- have gone up. Fresh flowers are on sills formerly
occupied only by empty liquor bottles.
Most of these people arrived here with little more than the clothes
on their backs, having left everything behind and risked their lives
in order to be with us. It's a shame we are unable to do more for
them now, but they're the type who are pretty well able to do for
themselves.
One of the first volunteers I picked this morning was a man to
find a suitable truck somewhere and use it regularly for hauling
refuse away from the new settlement and bringing in food each day
from the nearest distribution point, which is about six miles away.
He will be responsible for his own mechanical maintenance and for
finding gasoline wherever he can, until we have time to set up a
new fuel-distribution system. He is a 60-year-old who formerly
owned his own plastics factory in Indiana, but he is happy to be a
garbageman here!
By the time we get the overall civilian situation whipped into
shape, the average population density in our part of California will
be a little less than half what it was a month ago. There'll be the
greatest plenty of housing for new people coming in, and we'll
probably level about half the residential and commercial areas in
Los Angeles county, plant trees, and make parkland of them. That
lies in the future, though, and for now our aim is simply to settle
the new people temporarily in areas well separated from those we
haven't pacified and weeded yet.
But even the tiny beginning we have already made fills me with
joy and pride. What a miracle it is to walk streets which only a few
weeks ago were filled with non-Whites lounging at every street
corner and in every doorway and to see only White faces-clean,
happy, enthusiastic White faces, determined and hopeful for the
future! No sacrifice is too great to successfully complete our
revolution and secure that future for them-and for the girls of the
128th Los Angeles Food Brigade and for millions of others like
them throughout our land!