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This is a translated monitoring report of a broadcast made by the British clandestine radio station known as Gustav Siegfried Eins (GSI).
GSI pretended to be the mouthpiece of a group of disaffected German officers. The main announcer is referred to as "der Chef", the Chief, who revels in the use of foul language to attack the murderous British enemy and to complain about the clique of Nazi bosses (the Party Kommune) who are mismanaging the war while profiteering and living a comfortable life at the expense of the German people. The station was on the air from May 1941 until November 1943.
Broadcasts of this radio station were monitored by the U.S. Foreign Broadcast Intelligence Service, the transcripts of which are available at the U.S. National Archives and Records Administration, Record Group 262.
Hello - hello - This is Gustav Siegfried Eins.
This is Gustav Siegfried Eins.
Your speaker is the Chief. Forty nine will broadcast at the same time, if possible.
THE CHIEF. London must be bombed! I am repeating this for the Xth time. There is no other way to stop Churchill's murdering arsonists from their dirty work than for us to fly over, in squadrons and reduce their shitty London to smoke and ashes, up and down the line, as we have done in '40 and '41.
One hundred and thirty seven thousand fellow Germans have lost, at home, during the first fourteen days of March their homes and the roofs above their heads through British terror, one hundred thousand thereof in Berlin and Essen alone. That figure does not include this ghastly shit last night in Essen.
Another two thousand are without shelter in Cologne, two thousand in Stuttgart, seven thousand in Nurnberg, eleven thousand in Munich, twelve thousand in Hamburg and three thousand in small harmless towns like Lede, Schulau, Rissen which were completely bombed out by these air travellers.
One hundred and thirty seven thousand new shelterless who cannot be used for our war effort because they cannot sleep and can get nothing to put into their bellies. One hundred and thirty seven thousand new fagged out people with whom Mr. Mohrenback in his luxurious mahogany-panelled office in the German Labour Front does not know what to do. This Mr. Mohrenback, who so far has not as yet gotten around to remove his own self and all the other shitty "Kommune" Show-off Guys out of their luxurious so-called "representation" liars and to make room for those who have been bombed out of their homes.
One hundred and thirty seven thousand, who, together with their fellow-sufferers are being crammed into old Russian prisoners' camps, such as this phantastic large scale pig-sty in Warneheide near Cologne. The stench is unbearable. There is one water spigot for twelve thousand people and no one may drink from it because of the danger of typhoid. Hungry fellow citizens in Cologne dug around in an old stinking potato pile and what did they find? Two putrefying Russians who had croaked there before them.
One hundred thirty seven thousand victims of the barbarism of these shit Britons, and that does not take count of those who have already been buried, nor of the crushed, the maimed, the burned and those who have been buried alive in crushed cellars. And that does not take count of those new victims of dysentery and typhoid who had to die because the bacilli of pestilence had penetrated from reservoirs and sewage ducts into the cellars and the city water and because the "Kommune" health service in its inefficiency and confusion failed to see to it that every household in the areas exposed to danger from the air, received typhoid tablets for the sterilisation of drinking water as it should.
We must drop bombs on London but not these pissy "prestige" bombs, no, real bombs. That alone will help. The measly defence and fire fighting systems in our cities are no adequate protection for our country, even if the A.A.'s [Anti-Aircraft guns] in Essen popped a little louder than usual. What does all this help?
Our ace Flak gunners and our newest sound locators, they have been sent to Italy by these "Kommune" bricks. The Essen Flak is now stationed in Grosetto in Italy to protect the Italian air force and our anti-aircraft guns are manned by exhausted workers and by fifteen and sixteen year old boys.
They lack the training and they lack the nerves for this battle. They can't be expected to have them. Defence is always shit and if we want to keep these shitty "Channel Indians" away from us then we must attack them right on their home grounds and do it so long and so unmercifully that the term "home" will no longer exist today for hundred and thousands of Germans[?].
But those guys in army headquarters, who shit into their pants, what do they do? They go on flying "courtesy calls", very charming little return visits, so as not to violate the good old etiquette. Whenever the British have bombed Berlin or done some other damage, then we go over promptly the following night with a few dozen machines and clatter right into the "honourable defence" because these fellows are waiting for us to come.
Attacks like that are purely prestige attacks and no matter how the "Kommune" propagandist dress them up, they cause not enough damage to alleviate the lot of our bombed populace by one iota; neither do they give a fair chance to our airmen who have to perform them.
Twenty, thirty, forty machines are sent out by them against a city like London and one third of that force lose their asses because it is wholly impossible to "saturate" the town even to a small extent with such a ridiculous number of planes, if there is the slightest defence activity. Those planes are virtually single flyers and even these lousy British can conveniently knock them off, sound locators being what they are today.
You should listen to a man like Mr. Stark, whose "pleasure" it was to fly his KG 6 (plane) in a great number of these exhibition flights, sponsored by the "Kommune".
On March 2nd, Stark suddenly received orders to take thirty machines on a night attack on London.
First, the men had to hurry and slap black paint on their machines. There was no time whatsoever to remove the spare tanks and to take on an adequate bomb load. Furthermore Stark had to send out green, inexperienced crews, who were still in training. To them he gave the advice to drop their loads whenever there was the greatest cluster of search lights and to try to get back home.
Then they flew off right smack into the London A.A. fire and the night fighters who were, of course, waiting for them after that attack on Berlin. They had barely taken off when word was received that enemy night fighters were about to attack (Translator's note: At this point there is heavy static, drowning out one sentence) and then "Enemy night fighter in firing position". They dropped their bombs right where they were and beat it back home.
And they, who returned with shot up machines, they had to take on another load, right then and there and start and return to the same shit. In that night (*) of the thirty crews were lost and why? Only because a few "Kommune" shitters in Berlin had to spend the preceding night in a bomb-proof shelter.
(Heavy static drowning out one sentence) They are just beginners if they cannot make a heap of rubble out of London.
But no, these planes must not be used by any means. They must be kept in readiness for the phantom of the Twentieth Century, this Anglo-American Invasion. And they will remain there until they rot; the old shitter Churchill toasts to that every night by taking a long sip from his whiskey bottle.
Holy shit! If these heroes of the "Kommune" really piss into their pants because of this still-born shit invasion, then why wait to see whether it may really come? Why not strike with zest and wreck the joint for these pimps before they can leave their country? Bomb London! Spit into their joint like in '40 - '41 so that these pirate bastards come to lie right underneath their own houses, flat under the walls. Bomb London! So that our fellow-citizens may again walk uprightly through their streets. Bomb London, so that the world may not later say of us that we forgot that attack is the best defence.
This is Gustav Siegfried Eins. This Gustav Siegfried Eins.
Your speaker was the Chief.
[Source: NARA RG 262, transcribed by www.psywar.org]