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“Never were we freer than under the German occupation. We had lost all our rights, and first of all our right to speak. They insulted us to our faces every day — and we had to hold our tongues”.

So began Paris Alive: The Republic of Silence, Jean-Paul Sartre’s excellent article in The Atlantic’s December 1944 edition, where he perpetuated the myth of heroic French resistance to the German Occupation. Arthur Koestler’s Scum of the Earth reinforces that Hollywood image when it recounts the fate of a rag bag of European intellectuals (and others) caught between the floundering French Third Republic and the unstoppable Nazi juggernaut.

Although Le Vernet, unlike Dachau or Auschwitz, was not at the heart of the Nazi terror, those Scum of the Earth interned there with Koestler had already been kicked about from pillar to post and were not in the right state of mind to resist the twin assaults of the Hitler and Vichy regimes that awaited everybody.

Or, almost everybody, because one person’s Nazi occupation is another person’s rags to riches ladder. Forget the young French women, who had their heads shaved by their fellow French collaborators after the 1944 liberation (sic) and think more of serial killers like Dr Marcel Petiot, who offered Jews and other unfortunates safe passage to the Free World but actually sent them to the next world by bumping them off. Petiot has his modern day equivalents in the masses of NGOs Soros and other NATO aligned characters weaponise to emasculate Europe by flooding it with today’s scum of the earth. When thinking of Georgia’s resistance to the CIA’s NGOs, just note that Ireland has over 8,000 of these conniving CIA groups cannibalising our souls here.

As regards the fall of France, most French people collaborated for one mercenary reason or another and only some 150 French troops hit the Normandy beaches on D Day. More Parisians turned out to celebrate France winning the World Cup than they did to greet De Gaulle on his staged August 1944 entry into Paris. And, as for the French Army, the great French Army as Churchill had previously described it, it was replenished with veteran Waffen SS troops and Alcasian Wehrmacht conscripts like Guy Sajer at war’s end so that the Yanks could join De Gaulle in pretending the French still had an army and that they could thus use France as a further foil against the Soviets in the UNSC.

But, just as Guy Sajer’s The Forgotten Soldier had to attest that the Americans had the makings of better soldiers than had either the Germans or Russians, so also would he have to affirm that they make much more successful colonialists. Leaving aside such facts like they gave the least but won the most from the Second World War and even setting aside their prior antics in the Philippines, Cuba and Central America, they have colonised Western Europe to a degree the likes of Hitler could never begin to envisage, never mind emulate.

Although this process began at the time of The Great War, it really gathered pace when Britain and her colonies stood alone against Hitler. Not only did the Brits have to surrender their gold reserves and all of their military secrets to their Yankee masters but Churchill’s famous Fight Them On the Beaches speech stated quite clearly that he was prepared to see “this island nation” being wiped from the face of the earth as long as “the New World” carried on the fight.

That global fight, which continues to this day, is manifested most controversially in massive swathes of males of fighting age flooding into Josep Borrell’s European garden. Prior to the collapse of the Berlin Wall and NATO’s subsequent eastwards drive, we had essentially three distinct demographic blocks, those of the European Union, the Warsaw Pact countries and the Arab and Asian worlds, with manageable migration between those blocks.

Globalisation and other NATO gimmicks have turned that trickle into a flood. Whereas West Germany needed East Germans to do their physical jobs and to procreate, the Statue of Liberty’s tired, poor, huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of Afro-Asia’a teeming shores are being ferried into the European Union in unsustainable numbers.

Some 5 million Ukrainians have joined the stampede where, in countries like Ireland, their social welfare benefits far outstrip anything the Irish aboriginals could ever dream about, never mind claim. In Switzerland, meanwhile, Roma gypsies have swarmed in on fake Ukrainian passports to claim for themselves some of the freebies the Swiss have laid on for Zelensky’s cheerleaders.

The Roma are not the only ones up to this dodge. Following the capture of Syria’s Idlib region, some 50,000 blank Syrian passports were stolen and I know, as a fact, that many of those passports were used by ISIS activists to secure political asylum in Britain and Ireland, with a contingent of over 300 of these muck savages living less than 3 kilometers from me, one of their most consistent, implaccable and accessible critics.

Not that I complain about them because, in some sense, I am like the French under German occupation, albeit I am under a more invidious one, where Yankee Big Tech skews the entire Irish and European economies to their own selfish ends and floods us with these huddled masses, who work for buttons and whose normal needs help keep NATO’s retail industries as well as Europe’s building and rental industries in the black.

Because construction (of apartments to rent out to these huddled masses) is booming, there is plenty of work in this NATO Ponzi scheme to attract more workers and, as it is in building, that money quickly gives a caffeine fix to the economy, allowing it to motor along from one quick hit to the next like a headless, apparently directionless chicken.

But this headless European chicken is really a puppet controlled by the Yanks who know exactly what they want and what they have always wanted. That is a neutered Europe with good food (bonjour la France e ciao Italia), some boutique beers (Germany, the Czech Republic and Belgium too for the sweet toothed), a change of pace (Iberia), Buckingham Palace, Harry Potter and some good yoghurt (if the Dutch multinationals don’t first finish that Greek industry off).

Though the French Foreign Legion can still waddle down the Champs Élysées on Bastille Day, and the Brits can fire up the last of their Spitfires every D Day, they are the American parameters within which we operate. Like the French under the Swastika, we can cos play at being free but we cannot be free and you need not take my word on Nordstream for this.

Read this brilliant article on Slovakia’s Robert Fico by Stephen Karganovic and wonder if there is also a NATO bullet out there with your name on it. At day’s end, the logic is as simple as it was in France or in fields further east during the Occupation, when the Reich was in search of lebensraum. If you think like Fico or, for that matter, Karganovic, well then you are impeding the lebensraum quest of Monsanto, Raytheon and NATO’s other stalwarts and that can have the same fatal consequences it had for far many good French people in the early 1940s. However, just with gay Paree, so also today are there muted conversations afoot throughout Europe and the unspoken hope is, as it was in France from ’40 to ’44, that this time we the people will win, no matter what price in lost lives NATO’s legions of lone gunmen exact from us as we scale Martin Luther King Jnr’s mountaintop to his Promised Land. La Garde meurt mais ne se rend pas! Vive la liberté! Vive le Slovaquie! Vive la Hongrie! Vive la république du silence!