Nature, in Her wisdom, demands that only the strong survive. She does not forgive cowardliness.

1

Going Underground And To Prison

What to do? What to do?

I left my home and family in Virginia on March 18, 1987, after taking out a $100,000 life insurance policy, giving my wife power of attorney, and providing her with $10,000 in cash. The house and land were paid oft, and she would receive my monthly Army retirement check.

I decided to go underground and wage war against the Jews and the federal government. Since they wouldn’t allow me to fight them legally above ground, then I’d resort to the only means left, armed revolution.

I drove to Oklahoma City and picked up two hard core members of the White Movement, Jack Jackson and Doug Sheets. Jack’s half brother, Tony Wydra, joined us later in Asheville, North Carolina.

Using a rented copy machine, we printed 2,000 copies of my Declaration of War, inside our rented apartment in Monroe, Louisiana, and then mailed them to around 1,900 selected members of the WPP, other White groups, the Associated Press, U.S. Attorney Sam Currin, the U.S. Congress and Senate, SBI, FBI, UPI, Associated Press, CBS NBC, ABC, and the New York Times, and a dozen or so other newspapers around the country.

Allowing three days for receipt of the declarations, I phoned U.S. Attorney Sam Currin via Mike Blackmon, of WPTF radio, in Raleigh, NC and listed our demands. Mike taped the conversation.

Among my demands were (1) $888,000 in damages for violating the rights of 5,000 members of the White Patriot Party, (2) Restoration of my constitutional rights, (3) Release of Stephen Miller from prison, (4) A meeting with the State Bureau of Investigation and U.S. Attorney Sam Currin, with media present, (5) An investigation into the Southern Poverty Law Center and Morris Dees for malicious and illegal use of the federal courts to persecute members of the WPP, (6) Null and Void my July 1986 conviction for operating a paramilitary organization, (7) Allow me to return as leader of the White Patriot Party unhindered by federal authorities, and (8) an apology.

Should any of our demands be denied, we would immediately commence violent revolution against the federal government, Jews, and all colored races. We would start a race war and make the White man fight. My Declaration of War had already ordered members of the WPP to begin the revolution.

After 48 hours, I phoned for the federal response, using a third party intermediary to avoid tracing.

All our demands were denied.

What happened between that denial and our arrest weeks later is left blank here for reasons which ought to be obvious.

At around 6:00 a.m., April 30, 1987, we were awakened by a loud bull horn while inside our rented mobile home at an Ozark, Missouri trailer park.

“Glenn Miller, Jack Jackson, Douglas Sheets, Tony Wydra, this is a United States Marshal. You have three minutes to come out with your hands up, or we will commence firing.”

The feds had flown in two SWAT teams; one from Kentucky, the other from Louisiana (40 in all, plus the Marshals and local authorities) to make the arrests.

We were surrounded.

I had a hang-over, couldn’t find my pants, and had to pee, bad.

Jack said, “Let’s get our shit, and fight them.” Doug and Tony said nothing but there is no doubt in my mind but that they would have done just that had I not said, “No, we will turn ourselves in.”

Before we could, however, tear gas pellets were fired through the trailer windows, and it quickly filled with tear gas smoke. Thinking they were firing live ammunition, we all dove for cover inside the front bedroom.

Coughing and eyes burning and unable to breathe, we crawled to and then out the living room door and surrendered.

Inside the mobile home and in one of our vans parked outside, the feds found C-4 plastic explosives, dynamite, pipe bombs, hand grenades, fully automatic M-16 and AR 15 machine guns, sawed off shotguns, pistols, cross-bows, and around a half-ton of ammunition, to list some of it.

One hour later, inside our cage at the Springfield, Missouri jail, found us all doing push-ups to prepare ourselves for the ordeal which lay ahead.

Dying for a cigarette, Doug was nice enough to roll me one from our issue of Prince Albert rolling tobacco. I never did learn how to roll those things, though I sat on my cot many a night trying to. Doug was a pro.

After six weeks on the run, I was a physical and psychological wreck. Losing 15 lbs. from my already skinny frame, and having shaved by forehead for disguise purposes, I looked like something the cat drug up. My nerves were tore all to pieces. Paranoia is a gross understatement.

I’ll say something here about my three comrades in arms. When the race war comes to America, I pray to Odin, that He provide our Southland with many more such as these.

Having served 20 years in the U.S. Army, including 13 years in the green beret paratroopers, and two tours of duty in Vietnam, I have never been in the company of men as fearless, courageous, and as dedicated to a cause as Jack Jackson, Douglas Sheets, and Tony Wydra.

I admit freely that all three are stronger men than myself.

Jack and Doug wound up serving 6 1/2 years each in federal prison. Both are free men today, and I believe live somewhere in Oklahoma.

Tony, only 19 when arrested, died from a bullet in the back in 1989. The authorities ruled it an accident.

Cecil Cox, whom I named as my replacement to lead the White Patriot Party after my federally ordered exile, is now serving a life sentence for murder, according to information given me by a U.S. Marshal. Seems Cecil got into a political argument which resulted in his imprisonment. I do not know the details. Cecil, too, was an incredibly strong and dedicated man.

Weeks after our arrest, while sitting in my cell in solitary confinement at the federal prison in Butner, NC, a guard handed me a copy of the Raleigh News and Observer. A news article quoted an attorney from the U.S. Justice Department as bragging they had 200 years of crimes stacked up on Glenn Miller.

Then one day, I received a phone call from my attorney. The Justice Department had offered me a plea bargain deal.

I was to plead guilty to one count of felony possession of a hand grenade and answer all questions posed to me by the authorities. In return, they would recommend a 5-year prison sentence, immunity from any further prosecution by either state or federal authorities, and entrance into the Federal Witness Protection Program which included the financial support of my family while I served my sentence.

A five-year sentence sounded a little more palatable than 200, so I accepted.

As a result of my plea bargain and subsequent interrogations, not one single soul ever served one day in jail on account of me and not one single soul was ever indicted for any crime whatsoever on account of me.

I got myself out of prison without putting anyone else in.

Jack Jackson and Douglas Sheets would have accepted the same deal had it been offered to them. Deep down in their hearts, they know this is true.

After one particular interrogation, Sam Currin followed me back to my holding cell inside the federal courthouse in Raleigh and yelled the following:

“I want you to go back to your cell and get a good night’s sleep. And when you return here tomorrow morning, you had better know a hell of a lot more than you told us today.”

I yelled back, “Give me a lie detector test right now. I told you all I know. Get the examiner in here right now and give me the test.”

Jack and Doug were convicted of possession of illegal weapons in 1988 at their trials in Springfield, Missouri.

I did not testify at either of their trials.

I wound up serving a total of three years behind bars (almost to the day), most of which was spent inside the Federal Corrections Institute in Otisville, New York. I called it my Yankee cage.

There were no romantic overtures directed at me, in case anyone wonders. My cell block unit was crammed with New York Italians (“the Mafia”). Negro inmates do not mess with Italians, I soon found out.

One-half hour after my arrival, an Italian delegation, led by a former Mafia leader from Philadelphia entered my cell.

Holding out his hand, he said, “Glenn, welcome to Otisville. We’ve been expecting you. And, I want you to know that if you should ever need anything while you’re here, I live in that cell right over there, the second from the end. Come see me anytime.”

Then he introduced me to five or six of his Italian associates.

After breakfast the following morning, he escorted me around the prison unit and introduced me to every Italian there (about 30) and to the other White inmates. This Mafia Chieftain was befriending me openly, as if to say, “Look, Glenn Miller is our friend. Don’t mess with him.”

Every one of the 80 or so inmates there knew all about my case, having read reports from the New York Times, the Washington Post, news magazines and TV news.

Those Italians compare the Klan favorably with the Mafia because both are secret organizations. And, I learned quickly, Italians do not like Negroes.

Within a months time, I had put on over 20 lbs. I grew a beard to look mean. And I lifted weights for an hour or more, three or four times per week. At 191 lbs. stripped, with big arms and legs, I looked and felt better than I had in years.

I spent much of my prison time reading. I must have read over 200 large books, mostly fictional stories about the American pioneers, the Vikings, Mafia, etc.

As long as I was engrossed in a book, I was not in prison. Reading was my escape.

Those who worry about aging too fast should consider prison. I assure you time will drag by very slowly for you.

The quality of life for a White man in prison is determined by the percentage of inmates who are Negro. Federal prisons have fewer Negroes than others and much higher financial budgets.

I was fortunate in that Negro inmates never exceeded 20% in my cell block.

The Italians dominated, and I got along well with them.

Because Negroes did not dominate, there were no sexual assaults. I never even heard of one single case the entire time I was there.

Of course, I received literature from several national White groups, and I passed them on to White inmates. There was no censorship by prison officials.

August 23, 1990 — FREEDOM.

I joined the family in Sioux City, Iowa, and 11 months later my wife presented me with my sixth young’un, a little gal whom I named after my mother — Macy Jane Miller.

A federal court order and the conditions of my 5-year parole barred me from residing in any Southern state.

I enrolled in truck driving school, and after completion began my career as a long haul truck driver and I’ve been trucking ever since. And I love it. I’ve never had a job I enjoyed as much.

After prison, the freedom of the open road is gloriously exhilarating.

Boy, what a beautiful country, huh Whitey?

Too bad it doesn’t belong to us anymore.

Hitler said those who rule the streets, rule the country. Take a look at American streets now, especially the streets of large cities. White Aryan faces are becoming fewer and fewer.

Whitey, you and I were born with an inheritance. America was given to us by our forefathers, who fought, bled, and died, and who endured incredible hardships so they could pass on this great country to us, their posterity.

We have sat by like timid cowardly sheep and allowed it to be taken from us.

All the White man seems to care about now is satisfying his belly, pocketbook, and genitals and allow himself to be entertained by the Jews-media while the noose around his neck gets tighter and tighter.

The Jews give us sex, drugs, and rock-and-roll, while they rule over us and lead us toward oblivion.

What has never ceased to amaze me about our people during my 30-year struggle to awaken them is that virtually all hate me for what I say. They hate me for saying what the Jews are doing to them, but they don’t hate the Jews for doing it. Like the citizens of Rome during the fall of the Roman empire, they want to hang the messenger for bringing bad news.

I once drove team for a large trucking company, and teamed with around 50 different White drivers during the two-year period. All but one of them refused to ride with me a second trip, and he had a skin disease. They flat refused to ride with that racist Nazi and most bad-mouthed me to the boss. One Arkansas fellow stormed out of the Bakersfield, California motel room where we were laid over, and slept in the truck because I was trying to educate him about the Jews-media while he was trying to enjoy an HBO movie.

I forced one young “part Cherokee” fellow to stay in the sleeper until it was his turn to drive because I could not tolerate his close-minded ignorance.

Of the 50, all but three or four claimed they were part Indian. I kid you not. After decades of suffering anti-White hate propaganda, these White men underwent a human metamorphosis, probably while driving late at night, wired on caffeine, and listening to that Cherokee Nation song on the radio. They are all pitiful products of the Jews-media which repeats over and over again how rotten the White Race is.

The real Indians laugh at these “White Indians” and call them wanna-bees. I ate at an Illinois redneck restaurant and out of the seven or eight White skinned adults, I was the only White person in there. The rest claimed to be part Indian.

The wanna-bees are everywhere, coast to coast and they number in the tens of millions, I am convinced.

Hell, we White folks ought to file for minority status to the federal government, so we can get preferential treatment along with the rest. But if we did get into the welfare wagon, there would be no one to pull the damn thing.

The most quintessential visible Jews-media Jew today is Jerry Springer, the TV talk show host. Howard Stern is a close second. Sly, astute, masters-of-the-big-lie techniques, these culture destroying pied-pipers are highly effective in leading the Shabbos Goyim into degeneracy and ruin. These are but two of the tens of thousands of celebrity culture-destroying Jews infesting our national life. Cleverly, Springer and Stern throw the White man a bone from time to time by making fools of Negroes and other coloreds on their show as well.

Oprah Winfrey is a Jew-created Negro celebrity whom the Jews reward for her ability to act and talk like the middle-class White woman, and in leading these gullible female Shabbos Goyim into the Great American Melting Pot (I call it the slop jar) mind-set, and thus contented slaves for the coming One World Jewish Order. Oprah is not her real name. She herself selected it because spelled backwards it reads Harpo, after the Jew comedian Harpo Marx. Kissing up to the Jews and being such a smashing success for them, she is now virtually a billionaire.

Rush Limbaugh tells us there are a million rapes per year in American male prisons and jails. Imagine that. We know what race virtually all the rapists are, don’t we Whitey? The ultimate nightmare for all White men is being locked in a cage with Negroes. The terror of which prevents many from joining the White Movement.

What many millions of young White men have endured in jails and prisons over the past three or four decades at the hands of Negroes is so sick, perverted, brutal, and inhumane, that I myself have difficulty talking about it, it is so depressing.

The refusal by the government to even recognize this insanity, much less actually do anything about it, is not only mockery of the term cruel and unusual punishment, it is proof positive of their determination to mix the races no matter the cost in Aryan suffering and misery. Young White girls serving in the U.S. Military under Negro sergeants and officers is more proof of this determination.

Nature herself decrees that cowardly species become extinct. For the White Race to survive upon this earth without reclaiming it’s pride and will-to-fight is not only impossible in the long term, but is unnatural so long as it survives at all. As we are, we deserve to die out.

Nature, in Her wisdom, demands that only the strong survive. She does not forgive cowardliness.

The motto, Our-Race-is-our-Security is fully understood and practiced instinctively by all Races except the White one. Colored races stick together. This racial solidarity is proven by their literally thousands of active organizations, from the NAACP and Jewish Anti-defamation League to La Raza (The Race), and the thousands in between.

Ever heard a Negro or Hispanic say, “I wouldn’t even join the girl scouts, heh, heh, heh?”

Los Angeles alone has a thousand violent criminal minority gangs totaling over 150,000 members. And, that’s just one city. Much like dogs urinating on trees to mark their territory, these Negroes and Hispanics mark theirs with graffiti.

I could go on and on running my mouth for another two or three thousand pages, but my limited finances won’t permit it.

I will have 1,000 copies of this book printed at a cost of $5,000, paid entirely by yours truly, and distribute copies to friends, relatives, a few libraries willing to accept them. etc., but barring an unforeseeable miracle, and thanks to Jewish censorship, this book will not be widely read.

I apologize for my poor writing ability. But, I believe you all know it came from my heart, and it contains nothing but the truth, as I understand it.

For our Race, Dixie, and the Bruders Schweigen, I bid you farewell and good hunting. AKIA

Think I’ll stop at the next truck stop and pass out a few pamphlets.

Meantime, I’ll engage in a bit of “hate speech” over this here CB radio.

“Breaker. Breaker one nine. Any of you rednecks out there wanna chat with the Grand Dragon for awhile?… come on… ”

“Cattle die, men die. What lives forever are deeds men do.”

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