Douglas Mercer
January 12 2025
George Lincoln Rockwell was born in Bloomington Illinois in 1918. His father was of English and Scottish ancestry and his mother of German and Northern French ancestry, thus placing him squarely inside of the Aryan race. Both of his parents were vaudeville actor and comedians who were friends with Fred Allen, Benny Goodman, Walter Winchell, Jack Benny and even Groucho Marx. The great Showman Rockwell, who with his corncob pipe was the spitting image of his degraded postwar counterpart Hugh Hefner, was suave and charming and in many respects was a chip off the old block of his parents, as entertainment ran in his blood. Rockwell went to Brown University and then was conscripted in the Navy and fought against the Germans, something which later mortified him, as he believed that in so doing he had fought against the truth. In many ways he considered his post war political efforts to be an expiation of this sin that he committed.
As with many of us his political odyssey to the truth was a slow one. In San Diego he met a woman who gave him newspaper clippings about the Jewish and communist plots; at first he considered them to be vile trash but he soon found out otherwise. He read about the Protocols in the clippings and and he went to the library and soon found out the whole truth, shocking as the whole truth always is. As for most of us it was a rude awakening, when you find out that everything you have been taught by your family, your society, your schools, and your media was all one great tissue of lies. He was influenced by Joe McCarthy, Charles Lindbergh, Father Coughlin, Henry Ford, Douglas MacArthur, and Adolf Hitler. He read McCarthy’s pamphlets and found them factual, not the wild and slanderous nonsense he had been told they were. His eyes opened he plunged onward into the maelstrom of what was in fact real.
In Iceland for the Navy he met and married the niece of the Icelandic Ambassador to America. On their honeymoon they made pilgrimages in Germany to important places in Hitler’s life. They had three children but eventually her father came to take her back to Iceland when he learned that he was “one of the most racist men in the world.” Rockwell’s devil may care insouciance led one person to ask him if he really believed what he spoke of. Rockwell grew dire and said I have lost my family over this, I have lost everything I have over this---of course I believe it.
Learning about Hitler was the last road to be crossed on the way to the Light, The Truth, and The Path. How after all can the man that has been sold (and sold and sold) as the very incarnation of Evil in fact be the Seer and Prophet of the universe and cosmos? But he read Mein Kampf, and read and read it some more, and there it all was in stark black and white. A work of pure genius emanating from the tremendous wisdom and insight of his people, that is what he found in this sacred book. Then when he read the Protocols everything locked into place for him. It was all true. Now he had to dedicate his life to this new truth. For our great Fuehrer had him mesmerized and transfixed, the dire truth had him transfixed. He considered Hitler to be the greatest mind in 2000 years. He once had a mystical experience in his home staring a banner with the Swastika on it. He felt on the verge of a nervous breakdown but he survived it and thanked God for showing him the truth.
He was an artist just like Hitler. A sensitive man with great skill he had tried to support himself as a free lance artist but no matter how hard he worked nothing panned out for him. He took his wife in a car drawn trailer to be a salesman but that did not work either. In this way he was very much like his Idol in that he had real hard times before he hit his stride in life and found his calling.
Rockwell first tried to work with the conservatives. After all they too said that we were in a battle for civilization so they seemed to know the stakes. But he soon found out that these conservatives were fly by night fair weather folks. And when they forbid him to speak of Jews he knew that these were not the people for him, nor could they in anyway serve the purpose of the Aryan race.
Once he was free of all ties he set about to work. The public remembers him as the man who brought Hitler to America but seemed to do so in a carefree and debonair manner, almost tongue in cheek. He had his Hate Bus to parry the hippie Love Buses, and he had his placards which said Save Ike From The Kikes. But those who knew him or met him knew that he was deadly serious. He then met a man named William Pierce. Rockwell and Pierce shared the same dyed in the wool ideology, but they were of very different temperaments and stripes.
Where Rockwell appeared light hearted and was flamboyant and a rabble rouser, Pierce was more introverted and serious and implacable. They got along well and both acknowledged the debt that they had to each other. Rockwell said that Pierce had made great leaps and bounds forward in terms of his organizational skills. Pierce admired Rockwell’s spirit and drive and even his humor and he certainly thought Rockwell had a true heart. But in the end Pierce felt that he was less interested in showy confrontations and wanted to patiently build a long-term organization which he did. The two parted on amicable terms and in them was a meeting of two to the greatest men of our race who met and influenced each other. It is not an overstatement to say that back then giants walked on earth.
Rockwell was going to run for President in 1972. He was confident he would win. But his thread of fate was cut and it was not to be. From the perspective of the world Rockwell (like Hitler before him) was just a clown, one of those media sensations which arose in the 1960s, and he is best remembered as being portrayed by left wing lunatic Marlon Brando in a movie about (of all things) the creator of Roots, plagiarist Alex Haley.
But the world’s opinion is meaningless, the world chases after baubles and shiny things, and is beneath contempt. When the litany of the assassinations of that period are ticked off we get the stations of the cross in Kennedys, King. But by far the greatest loss was when Rockwell was felled by an assassin's bullet, lost was a genuine American hero, an American folk hero, who was taken from us, taken from us by a sneak Marxist.
But this great man, this great Aryan man, his memory lives forever and lives inside of us and inspires us. In the Navy which he came to abhor he was a commander; but those who knew him and loved him well also called him the Commander; but not for any American Military role he had. He was The Commander because he commanded our love and our respect, and because he was a leader of our people in the time of its greatest distress. And Commander, as we make our way, make our way along the Path which you showed us, we salute you and give you all honor.
