DEATH ORDERS by Jan Needle
I’ve
never been much of a fan of conspiracy theories, but, to coin a phrase, I know
a man who is. But I have always been a fascinated observer of how people in
power lie and cheat, and how rationality bleeds away from the most dangerous
and difficult human problems. We all know that war has no winners, we all know
that wars will never end. And now, thanks to the wonders of ebookery, I’ve been
able to revisit possibly my favourite wartime thriller.
The
conspiracy theory in question has been around for a long, long time, and it
will not go away. It is about an event so bizarre that the truth will never,
obviously, be known. That’s the beauty of the animal. You don’t have study
philosophy very long to hit the sixty four thousand dollar question. What is
truth?
Consider
this. My book, Death Orders, which will hit the cyber world in the next couple
of weeks via Endeavour Press, is about the supposed death of a man who
supposedly flew to England in a Messerschmitt in 1941, was possibly not the man
he was claimed to be, possibly died in the basement of the Carlton Club at the hands of the secret services,
and possibly ended up – the last survivor of all the imprisoned war
criminals – incarcerated in Spandau Jail, Berlin.
His
name – someone’s name – was Rudolf Hess, and from Spandau his body was sped to
hospital after he had hanged himself at the age of 91, from a window frame in a
garden hut which was much too low to do the job, shortly after ordering his
lunch and a fresh supply of toilet paper. Within hours the wooden hut was gone, burnt to the ground by the British
who were in charge of the jail that day. Within weeks, the prison itself had
been demolished.
After
he had been buried, and the scientific possibilities of DNA came marching ever closer,
Prisoner Number Seven was exhumed, cremated, and scattered at sea. In the jail
he had refused for more than twenty years to meet his beloved wife and son, and
had claimed many times – not least when the fighter plane had crashed in
Scotland – that he was not Rudolf Hess. No DNA was ever taken, and key papers
about the affair remain top secret, long after the normal term.
All
that is not in doubt about this story is that a man flew to England from
Germany via Denmark and a man is definitely dead. Some think he came to broker peace.
Some think Hitler put him up to it. Some think Winston Churchill was in it up
to the elbows, some think the Royal Family were implicated, some are
certain Joseph Stalin had a hand.
Uncle
Joe, in fact, said this: ‘There are lots
of things that happen, even here in Russia, which our secret service does not
necessarily tell me about.’
And
Joe, except in very peculiar ways, was not noted for his sense of
humour.
Churchill
said this: ‘There are a terrible lot of lies
going about the world, and the worst of it is that half of them are true.’
When
I took my first bite at this cherry, under the title of The Butcher’s Bill,
HarperCollins offered twenty thousand pounds to anyone who could prove its
thesis was untrue. Several conspiracy nuts tried very hard, but the cash was
safe, although not having Mr Murdoch behind me now I sure as hell won’t take
that risk again. But the book is so full of fascinating, wild, sexy, awful
happenings, that to rewrite it a bit, and be asked by Endeavour if they could republish it,
has been a joy and a delight.
I
don’t know exactly which of its elements are facts or lies or lunacies – no one
does. But I do know that some of the most screamingly improbable things in it
are verifiably completely accurate. If you love history as much as I do, that
is more than enough, believe me.
 |
| Don't believe too easily. A toy? A fish? The human soul? |
Hats
off to Endeavour for letting me fly this kite once more. Let’s hope it has more
success than the man in that Me110. Rudolf Hess? Alfred Horn? Or pick a name
out of the bran tub.
And
twenty grand aside, the bet remains. Prove to me it didn’t happen like I tell
it and I’ll be your friend for life.
Probably
even buy you a pint…
And if anyone still thinks governments play straight with us, or ever have, or ever will, try Simon Jenkins in the Guardian last week.
www.endeavourpress.com
You can follow them on Facebook and on Twitter. No pub date yet, but very soon.
And if anyone still thinks governments play straight with us, or ever have, or ever will, try Simon Jenkins in the Guardian last week.
Comments
but the point of his remark was that he did know rudolf hess, very well indeed. almost up to the declaration of war, goering had a messerschmitt fuelled and ready to make a peace-offer dash to london, and if the man in the dock was a ringer, der dicke would have known it for sure. and been in on the joke.
it's a wondrous story.