Biography

(The Official Nazi Theorem of New Germany)

• Note: This essay is intended exclusively for entertainment purposes and is in no way promoting nazi-ism or hatred towards anyone.

While we all go about our daily lives, underneath it all a vast project is being put into action. From the beginning, Germany has been at the root of many wars, yet, have not accomplished much for their country as a whole. Now after decades of planning, their final attempt lays right here in Chatham-Kent.

With four hours of thoughtful inquiry we have uncovered their plan. Sarnia and Blenheim are already lost, now unofficially considered to be New Germany. Blenheim first, because it’s a small and easy target and Sarnia because of its importance of Canadian industry. From both sides the Germans are moving in on us, taking a slow silent approach that will with no doubt capture Chatham in the silence of a moonless night. Yesterday, we had a chilling chance to see their advancements.

I opened the door and felt a wave of crisp November air break upon my face. Beside me stood my faithful companion, and fellow air cadet, Sgt. Stacey. Now, despite the dorky reputation of the air cadet league, it has its benefits. After a difficult morning of attending several Remembrance Day assemblies, we had been awarded the rest of the afternoon off school for our outstanding statue impersonations. Unfortunately, neither of us had access to a car, bike, roller blades or anything of the sort. However, both of us had two feet and a heartbeat so we set off on foot. Why not?

An often under-appreciated factor of the world is railways. Although they’re everywhere, and tend to carry trains through traffic at the most inopportune times, the only people who really use them are cargo-train engineers, people with a terrific fear of flying. So on this fine day, we decided to find out where they really lead. Little did we know how life-changing this decision would be.

And so we were off. While it became bothersome to walk on the constantly uneven path, the sheer desolation of the area gave off a peaceful rural ambiance. High above us the previously clear sky darkened tinting the countryside with a pale indigo hue. Just as we were in the midst of a heated conversation contemplating whether or not trees can have feelings a figure dressed in a tan uniform darted out of a line of trees, over the tracks and vanished through a hole in a wooden fence. Now, I’ve never been extremely fond of history, but I’ve seen enough WW2 movies to recognize the four armed Nazi swastika when I see it, and I’ll be damned if that boy had not just worn the red and black emblem on an armband. At the time Stacey made some amusing comment about heading into nazi land and I had laughed. But now, looking back, the funniest thing about it was how sincerely un-funny it should have been. However, we laughed it off, and followed the tracks over a bridge and into the woods.

With the intent of being valiantly adventurous, we strayed from the tracks and ducked into the trees. Almost instantly the air thickened and a still silence pressed against us. Not a bird nor squirrel nor insect dared to make but a whisper in fear of shattering the fragile stillness. The sound of our shoes through the dried leaves and twigs seemed sinfully noisy, and I cringed with every step.  Through the forest underbrush strange irregular silhouettes loomed. At first we dismissed them as useless abandoned rubble, but soon they became too frequent to ignore. Lines of trucks stood in a ominous formation like hungry wolves, their trailers stacked full of iron barrels reeking of sulfur and gasoline. There were several buildings filled with rusty pumps, huge discarded excavators, and other machinery with intricacy beyond our wildest dreams. We came across a wide, barren clearing where a tall tower resembling a enormous can-crusher towered. The fact that the top of the building seemed to leak a coppery smelling crimson liquid sent a chill down our spines. From a protruding pipe, a thick cloud of white and grey vapor poured out, rising and joining with the atmosphere. Furthermore, confirming our previous uncertainties, the tower displayed a ten foot spray-painted swastika.  We later learned that this was where Canadian-civilian threats are destroyed. This was the fate of an air cadet officer who attempted to quit, 2Lt. Russell. Why Russell? Well this brings us too the more detailed part of our theory.
Terrified by the Nazi equipment, we ran like the hounds of hell were on our heels until we reached an abandoned boat, Old Rusty, the only safe haven in the area, to our knowledge. There we stayed, gasping for breath and searching for any indication of Nazi spies or snipers. Of course we could hear them and even catch glimpses of them, but they were trained well, and would not be seen in plain view unless they wished to. When we seemed safe enough we lay on the top of the cabin tried to  make sense of what was going on. Soon enough it all began to come together. Our first suspicion of nazi-ism was our Warrant Officer, Adam Vanlith, who has a striking resemblance to the notorious German WW2 officer, Untersturmführer Amon Goeth. Right from the beginning we something about him was strange, and now that we have uncovered all of this, he fit right in. But did that connect him with the rest of the Cadet program? Sadly yes. They are all involved. Captain Eskritt, the commanding officer is in charge of the squadron and is under direct orders from Germany to handle this recruitment program. Vanlith and Brad Davidson are also very much involved, as they are the highest ranking cadets. The others, we are not sure about, but we have come to a theory about the ranking system. AC and LAC’s (leading air cadet) represent the first level of training. The cadets are not yet informed of their doom. When they become a Corporal, they are watched for possible nazi potential, and if they exhibit it, they are moved up again to Sargent, which just so happens to be the rank Stacey and I had been promoted to just yesterday. The time has come for them to make the move and finally take us to their side. As the realization hit us,  we noticed the clouds. They seemed abnormally low and appeared formed patterns. First we recognized the letters ‘EH’ signifying Canada, then a swastika, obviously signifying Nazi-ism, and finally a cross which connotes the meaning of death. 

This alarmed us. We began to panic when we saw three chevron shaped clouds floating in the clear sky. We were discovered! They knew we were there. We then drew the connection that they were sending us cloud messages, obviously powered by the person-crusher machines in the clearing. Where else would they get the fuel from without suspicion? If they were to use electricity, their project would surely be exposed. Just then we then heard a loud rumbling. At first we assumed the noise was tanks, but then saw that they were trains. Nazi trains of course. The white cars flew by but the terrifying part was that the cars read “SGT”. Coincidence? I think not. But this train brought our attention to another aspect. The train had no front, nor were the cars connected. How was it moving? We realized that the Germans must have some sort of magnetic force to power their machinery, again, avoiding the suspicion of excessive fuel consumption. We believed they used a combined power of the north poles magnetic pull, the moons magnetic pull, and some sort of redirector/amplifier. With this we left. We had to surrender. If we remained on the Canadian side they’d run us down like dogs and destroy us by unspeakable means. The walk back was a blur of trees and streets, and all of a sudden, we arrived back at CKSS. Without delay we found Brad and confessed that we knew everything, and had decided to join them so long as they didn’t hurt us or our families. The realization hit him hard and he panicked. They didn’t know that we were ready yet. He played dumb and declared that he had no idea what we were talking about, and that we must be on some fine drugs. He is a terrible liar, but his reaction was understandable. He is only a middle man in the operation, but would soon spread the word. In a little while we would be safe though. It’s only a matter of time.

From that day on we have never received official orders from the project, but have repeatedly explored the train tracks of Chatham-Kent, slowly uncovering hints. Perhaps we are not worthy of fully understanding the maneuver, but with every curiosity-induced outing, we grow one step closer to the truth.