The Heritage Paper

Chapter 33



Otto sat by the open window, gazing out into the boundless water. The cold breeze made the curtains dance and goose-bumped his arms. It reminded him that winter was on its way. Perhaps his last winter. But no doubt his most glorious one.

He returned his attention to his favorite poem, Nibelungenlied, which he had read throughout his life prior to entering battle. In it, the dragon-slaying hero Siegfried is stabbed in the back by Hagen of Tronje. Otto remembered reading it for the first time back in Brooklyn. The words articulated how he felt—stabbed in the back—and he wept that night, knowing that there were others out there who shared his pain.

It reminded him of the young German soldier, who also broke into tears upon feeling a stab in the back. Adolf Hitler sat blinded in a Munich hospital in 1917—wounded in battle—when he learned of Germany’s defeat in World War I.

When his sight returned, he was appalled by what he saw. The German state was being run by those who sabotaged them during the war. The Jewish elite controlled businesses, yet he rarely witnessed them sacrificing their lives on the front line. They were profiting from Germany’s defeat. They began robbing the German people of their natural intellectual leadership and enslaving them. He also understood that the oppression in Germany was not an isolated incident, but part of a bigger Zionist conspiracy to dominate the world.

And the only way to stop this world domination was through revolution. And that was exactly what Hitler did, returning Germany to its rightful place in 1933. He fought against the saboteurs of Germany—the Jewish elites and Marxists, and their enablers in Europe and the West—and while he lost his courageous fight, it was only temporary, as Otto had continued the quest. And with the revolution entering the final stages, Otto could feel the Führer’s presence. He was not alone.

The shrill ring of his cell phone interrupted the reminiscing. He released his arthritic hands from the sides of his chair, which he had gripped in anger while thinking of the turbulent days at the end of the war, and answered.

“They are headed to Bedford Hills … to see Rose Shepherd,” the voice spoke with urgency. “Do you want me to stop them?”

Otto pondered this development for a moment. He was always at his best when plans went awry and he was forced to improvise. “No—that won’t be necessary. Rose will come through. She always has before,” he said and ended the call.

Otto suddenly felt a large hand caress his shoulder. He looked up to see the Candidate. He had been so engrossed in his call that he hadn’t heard him enter.

Destiny had arrived.