Gepubliceerd op 29 jun. 2018
The evidence has mounted over the decades to support the idea that there was not just incompetence but a conscious “lack of enthusiasm” amongst some senior British army officers for Market Garden to succeed. That evidence has led some to link the disaster at Arnhem and Nijmegen with the wider “endgame” of World War II, and the ultimate creation of the anti democratic EUropean Union which Bilderberg conferences have so successfully put in place.
Though it was never admitted in German propaganda, the Nazis’ defeat became obvious a few weeks before the ill fated Falaise Gap battle of August 1944 signified the beginning of the end of the Third Reich.
The titans of German industry hastily arranged the “Red House Meeting” in Hotel Rotes Haus, Strasbourg for August 10th, setting plans in motion to “bury the Nazi treasure”. They were practical men, determined to keep control of their doomed war industries and ready to go underground, only to resurface after the war to take their cut of the Nazis’ looted wealth.
Hitler had friends amongst the Allies, particularly in the United States where, in 1934, the patriarch of the Bush dynasty, Prescott Bush, attempted to overthrow the US government in a military coup which was only thwarted by plucky US Marine Colonel Smedley Butler. The unrepentant Prescott Bush was prosecuted twice during WWII under the “Trading With The Enemy Act”.
Deals were done toward the end of the war through the OSS with this US Nazi faction in exchange for Hitler’s war machine technology, particularly for rockets and missiles as well as uranium and plutonium for the Manhattan Project’s nuclear weapons. Apart from a shared hatred for anything left-wing, particularly communism, the Germans also held bargaining chips of a massive hoard of artworks, gold and securities their armies had looted from the treasure houses of European capitals.
Operation Market Garden’s failure put the conduct of the remainder of the war and arrangements for post war EUrope firmly into US hands but it would need the cooperation of some of the top Brits to throw the fight.
Failure at Arnhem also gave the Nazis a much-needed extra four months, to 1st May, 1945, in which to transport everything and everyone of value out of Germany, to hiding places in Switzerland and far flung corners of the world such as Argentina and Indonesia.
After the war, Bush’s fellow Nazi sympathizers, brothers Allen and John Foster Dulles, were busy laundering much of the Nazi loot through their New York law firm Sullivan and Cromwell. John Foster ran the State Department, and his brother the newly formed Central Intelligence Agency (CIA). The Dulles’ Nazi continuity regime which Kennedy tried, and failed, to break, had set the US on an immediate aggressive foreign policy post-war.
The Dulles brothers’ enthusiasm for corporate lobbyists like the Council on Foreign Relations, who they were happy to let dominate the State Department, created the climate whereby John F. Kennedy could be assassinated in 1963 with impunity, sending a clear message to all US presidents and candidates not to cross the all powerful US Military Industrial Complex.
British veteran Arthur Bealy (83) shows two postcards he found in 1944 in a destroyed farm in Elst, 21 September during the 63th commemoration of Operation Market Garden, the battle of Arnhem at the Airborne monument in Arnhem (AFP Photo)
‘History will be kind to me. I know, because I will write it.’
Just before he set off for June 2014’s 70th D Day anniversary, I was privileged to chat, off the record, to one of Britain’s most respected military historians. A former senior army officer who has written the most detailed account of the crucial Nijmegen part of the Market Garden battle, told me: “Oh no. I won’t be going to the Market Garden anniversary. It’s got way too political.”
Establishment “groupthink” historians have so massaged events at Arnhem and Nijmegen that telling the truth would put writers and historians in the West “beyond the pale”. All except one, that is. William F. Buckingham, commissioned by Oxford University’s Hew Strachan, wrote the most damning account of Market Garden, “Arnhem 1944,” in 2002. In it, Buckingham rightly shreds what might be left of the reputation of airborne commander “Boy” Browning.
Echoing the theme of Powell and Pressburger’s 1943 film, “The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp,” that “jobs for the boys” mean failures in self seeking, entrenched, ossified leadership, which in wartime spells disaster. Browning put General Roy Urquhart in charge of 1st Airborne Division “because he was pliable”.
“The crux of this particular problem,” Buckingham says, “was the British Army’s tendency to value personal recommendation over specialist experience or operational expertise.”