The Turner Diaries
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 Blacks 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 Black and Chicano neighborhoods: nearly 6,000 trucks
altogether.
At first we tried to do a careful job of making
sure each truck 1 had just enough fuel in its tank to make the one-way
trip into T enemy territory, but that took too long, and so we settled for
l trying to be reasonably sure that each vehicle had at least enough 1
fuel for the trip. 2
Late yesterday we began running out of
trucks, and so all day f 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 Black 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 Black
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- f
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 Blacks are toward their own people. Some of the
older Blacks, 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 Blacks 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 Blacks could
have jumped us, because we were spread so thin and often obliged to work
deep within their jarr-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 Blacks 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 niggers 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. q Yes, sir, things are
looking up here, and I'm sure they're looking Blacker and Blacker
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 Black troops and the Black 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
Blacks 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 Blacks-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-Black 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 Black 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 Blacks 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!