Benjamen Walker's Theory of Everything - The longest shortest flight of Rudolf Hess

Episode Date: February 28, 2020

On May 10th 1941 Rudolf Hess flew from Germany to Scotland. He hoped to bring the Nazis and the British together. He failed. But the details behind his flight remain one of the greatest mysteries of World War II. Historians and Amateur scholars have spent decades trying to unravel this mystery. On this episode we look into one of the strangest theories of them all. This episode is part of a network-wide project to welcome Over the Road, Radiotopia’s newest show, into the family. Over the Road on Apple Podcasts: https://apple.co/31AvmCJ

You are listening to Benjamin Walker's Theory of Everything. At Radiotopia, we now have a select group of amazing supporters that help us make all our shows possible. If you would like to have your company or product sponsor this podcast, then get in touch. Drop a line to sponsor at radiotopia.fm. Thanks. episode. Why is there something called influencer voice? What's the deal with the TikTok shop? What is posting disease and do you have it? Why can it be so scary and yet feel so great to block someone on social media? The Neverpost team wonders why the internet and the world because of the internet is the way it is. They talk to artists, lawyers, linguists, content creators, sociologists, historians, and more about our current tech and media moment. From PRX's Radiotopia, Never Post, a podcast for and about the Internet.

Episodes every other week at neverpo.st and wherever you find pods. pads. This episode is part of a special Radiotopia-wide project welcoming a new Radiotopia podcast into the family. Over the Road tells the story of American long-haul truckers, a changing industry and the culture of daily life on the road. In support of Over the Road, Radiotopia shows are releasing an episode in response to the theme The Long Haul. Benjamin Walker's theory of everything contribution is called The Longest, Shortest Flight of Rudolf Hess. At 5.45pm on May 10th

1941, Rudolf Hess gave a thumbs-up to the men on the airfield. They pulled the chocks away from underneath his wheels, and in less than a minute, he was airborne. Hess looked down. His friend Willie was waving. One more gesture of confidence that the extra fuel tanks attached to his ME-10 ensured

he would make it all the way to Scotland. Karl Heinz was also waving, but his was a gesture of resignation and farewell. Hess scoffed at his adjutant's lack of faith, and as he shot up into the sky, he shouted, this is not goodbye, for tomorrow I return as a god. Hess checked his instruments and his speed. Everything was perfect, as it should be, for the six planets were aligned in Taurus. There was only one thing that bothered him, the date. Hess was supposed to have flown on April the 3rd, the date the Duke of Hamilton flew over Mount Everest in 1933. During the Olympics in Berlin, the Duke had given Hess a private account of that historic flight. And there was a connection.

The two men had bonded over aeronautics and politics. Had he flown to Scotland on April 3rd, Hess was certain the Duke would have welcomed him with an embrace. But on April 1st, Hess's astrological advisor sent a panicked message. Carl had somehow gotten his hands on a rare French book of prophecy, a book that warned against any bold moves on April 3rd. Carl did have a new date though. April 21st. As Hess pointed his plane in the direction of Bonn, his mind wandered back to that glorious day of 1933. April 21st, the day Hitler had declared him deputy fuhrer. April 21st, such an auspicious date. April 21st trumpeted to the

world that Hess spoke for Hitler and Hess spoke for Germany. Had he arrived in Scotland on April 21st, no one would have questioned his bona fides. As he passed over the Zuiderzee, Hess broke free from his reveries. He made a 90-degree turn to the right towards Haligoland Bight. Hess kept this course for 23 minutes, and then he resumed his north-northwesterly course up the eastern side of the North Sea, where he was safe from British radar detection. Sadly, after consulting with a powerful group of magicians and astrologers that he'd recently become intimate with,

Karl determined April 21st was not meant to be. He proposed May 20th. But there was a problem. If the Germans hoped to come to an agreement with the British before they invaded Russia, then the invasion date of May 15th would have to be pushed back. This spooked Alfred Rosenberg. Ever since Hitler had put him in charge of the political affairs of the soon-to-be-conquered East, Rosenberg was strutting around like a stuffed czar. Rosenberg had ambitions to turn the Ukraine into a German colony,

which put him at odds with Himmler and Goring, who wanted to turn the Ukraine into a mass grave. Himmler and Goring welcomed the new timeline. They could now ignore all of Rosenberg's memos, for they had to take Moscow before the first snow's a winner. Rosenberg protested. Hess was drawn into the infighting. On May 6th, they all met with Hitler, who threw a fit. Hitler threatened to tear up all the Barbarossa plans, accept Stalin's concessions, and invade England instead. No one wanted that.

And so Hess had Karl do some more consulting with his oracles. Carl came back with a new date, May 10th. Of course, Hess was fully aware that May 10th was Carl Kraft's fucking birthday, but he wanted to fly, and so he said nothing. The evening light over the North Sea was beautiful. The small clouds below looked like little pieces of red-rimmed ice floating on the sea. At least May 10th came with a full moon. But just before 9 p.m., the clouds disappeared. Hess was now totally exposed in the clear night sky But he felt no fear, only loneliness

Hess thought about his three-year-old son, Buzz He had hoped to spend the entire day with him But Alfred Rosenberg had insisted on one final meeting Now that Rosenberg was insisted on one final meeting. Now that Rosenberg was on Team Mass Grave, he wanted to bring Hess up to speed on some of his latest thinking. Like Hitler, Rosenberg argued that the Jews were behind the communist movements in the Soviet Union and elsewhere, and thus, in order to rid the world of communism,

the Nazis had to also rid the world of Jews. I believe you should inform the British of our true intentions, Rosenberg said as he sipped his tea. A negotiated peace will ensure we have all the time we need to exterminate Stalin's intelligentsia using the most brutal violence possible. When Hess made landfall on the Northumbrian coast, he dove low in order to attain maximum speed in case of pursuit. By now, he most certainly had been detected by radar. At 10.24pm, he roared over a small lake in the hills by the peak of Broadlaw. Then he altered his course again and headed for Dungovel House. But by the time he passed over the Duke of Hamilton's estate, it was too dark to make out the house.

Nor could he see any electric lights marking the runway he was supposed to use. Both of the fuel gauges were glowing white on his instrument panel. It was 11.07. It had taken him just five hours to fly from Germany to Scotland, but he was out of fuel. His plane would be on the ground in minutes. Hess pulled the control column back and climbed to 6,000 feet. Then he switched off the engines, pulled the cockpit hatchback, and pushed out with both legs, propelling himself from his seat. But as he plunged past the plane, his right foot struck the tail hard, and he spun out of control. He barely had the strength to pull the ripcord of his parachute.

As he floated down, fumbling and crying, illuminated by the moon, Hess realized his mistake. He should have stood firm on May 20th. May 20th was the day the great Charles Lindbergh had flown east back in 1927. Hess had met Lindbergh once in Munich and the great aviator had professed an admiration for the Nazis and a hope that America would one day follow Germany's lead. If Hess had flown west on May 20th, it could have been a miracle. Hess never completed that thought. He hit the ground and blacked out. When news of Rudolph Hess's arrival reached Winston Churchill,

he announced, Hess or no Hess, I'm watching the Marx Brothers. One ticket for the West. End of line. According to official records, the Marx Brothers movie Churchill was watching in his private quarters that evening was Go West. And out West they shoot at anything that looks Eastern. Why, they'll blow his head off if he goes out West with that flea incubator. This is plausible. Go West was released in December of 1940. I don't know if you remember the Second World War. Because there's so many now, it's hard to keep track of them.

But this is not what Churchill told Groucho Marx. Hess had been sent by Hitler to try to negotiate peace with Churchill. Churchill at that time was in the projection room at 10 Downing Street running monkey business. Groucho loved this story and every time he told it, as he did in this instance, live on stage at Carnegie Hall in 1972, there is no mention of Go West. He sent an orderly to the door and says, time to come back after I say monkey business and we'll discuss business.

So what are we to make of this discrepancy in the historical record? I'm convinced that it's a sign, a loose thread, a reminder that all of the men who were in charge of the operation that brought Hess West just couldn't help themselves when it came to leaving evidence of their roles in the affair. Of course, we won't know the entire truth about what went down in May and June of 1941 until the British government opens up its archives on wartime deceptions, an opening that is not scheduled until 2041. And even then, the public will only see files that have been weeded and pruned by various intelligence officers and royal fixers.

All we can do is look for loose threads. If you know where to look, you'll discover many of them. Rudolf Hess's flight is not only the greatest mystery of World War II, it is one of the greatest mysteries of the 20th century. It is a mystery embroidered into the fabric of our reality. Today, I'd like to talk about one of the most interesting loose threads of them all. A novel written by one of the primary actors of the Hess Affair. I'm talking about The Flying Visit by Peter Fleming. This little book was published in mid-July 1940,

almost a year before Hess's arrival. Thus, it has an almost foolproof alibi of coincidence. But if we pull on this loose thread, as an almost foolproof alibi of coincidence. But if we pull on this loose thread, well, then the heavy, dark curtains that shroud the whole truth of this sordid affair come crashing down. Most of you are familiar with Peter's more famous brother, Ian Fleming,

the creator of James Bond. But during the war, both brothers spent time working on various SOE and MI6 intelligence operations. Ian Fleming ran the double-cross operation that began with the interception of a letter Hesse's advisor, Albrecht Taushofer, penned to Lord Hamilton in 1940, asking for a meeting somewhere on the outskirts of Europe to discuss the possibility of German-English peace. Ian Fleming's deception unit was able to convince Haushofer and Hess that a meeting was not only possible, but that it should take place in Britain, with high-ranking government officials who had direct access to the king, important men who

could swiftly bring Churchill's intransigence on the issue of peace with Germany to an end. War office files declassified in 2004 revealed that the astrologer, Louis de Vaule, and the magician, Alastair Crowley, were both conscripted by Ian Fleming's unit. It's still unclear what role these men played in the affair, but they certainly helped the British use Hess's weakness for the occult against him.

But if we wish to understand how this operation was ever possible, we must turn our attention to the other Fleming brother, Peter, and his curious novel. The Flying Visit is an absurd little book, and when it was published in July 1940, no one knew what to make of it. Just imagine the setting. Enemy bombers travel at hundreds of miles an hour. Every town is a target. Any town is a target. German planes are bombing ports and towns and aircraft factories.

And some of these raids are brazen daylight attacks. Imagine emerging from a bomb shelter. Rattled, you decide to stop off at your local bookstore to check out the latest releases. The clerk tries to sell you a light-hearted comedy in which Hitler parachutes into the British Highlands. Yes, this is the plot of The Flying Visit. After Hitler's plane explodes, while running victory laps

over Britain, Hitler parachutes down and lands in the home counties. He then wanders into a village talent show. The crowd thinks his Hitler impersonation is marvelous, and he takes first prize. A young woman who has spent time in Germany recognizes he's the real thing and promptly locks him in a toilet.

Eventually he is delivered to Winston Churchill, who after deliberations with his war cabinet decides to send him back to Germany, as no one knows what to do with him. After Rudolf Hess parachuted into the Scottish Highlands, not even a year after the publication of The Flying Visit, no one knew what to say about the uncanny similarities. Peter Fleming himself proclaimed it was an incredible instance of life-imitating art. But let me say it once again.

The author of The Flying Visit was an intelligence officer. Peter Fleming, like his brother, was a crucial member of Britain's wartime deception office. And thus, this instance of life imitating art requires close examination. Let's begin with the foreword. This narrative has to do with facts, not with speculation. My story, even at its unlikeliest, includes nothing which is not in harmony with the facts as known, or at least with carefully weighed probabilities. And then the postscript, Peter Fleming, April 1st,

1940. Peter Fleming loved April Fool's Day, and he was famous for his April Fool's Day pranks. Presenting The Flying Visit as a silly novel rather than a coded message to the enemy was his greatest April Fool's Day prank of them all. And we don't have to read too far into The Flying Visit to crack this code. I'm going to read you something from page 46. Hitler has just extricated himself from his parachute and a muddy puddle. He comes up with a plan on what he should do. If he could only get hold of Mr Chamberlain or Sir Horace Wilson or one of those, he would stand, he was sure, a fair chance of persuading them that he had come to England

risking everything on a peace mission. There would be a great sensation. The English would never take advantage of an unarmed enemy of the highest possible rank, who, with incredible temerity and the noblest motives, had faced untold dangers in order to put himself at their mercy. They would once more believe, they would have to believe in his sincerity. The world would be suspicious, but above all, the world would be relieved. The war would stop, the bells would ring, everyone would sign a piece of paper, and he, Hitler, would return to Germany, not as a superman, but as a god. A god who got results.

After his capture, Hess claimed he flew to England on his own initiative. Until the relevant archives are opened up, we should not accept this as fact. But Hess most certainly flew to Britain with the hope of signing a peace deal with one of those. Who? Well, let us return to the novel. After Hitler comes up with his plan to forge a peace deal, an obstacle immediately presents itself. How was he to establish contact with the politicians? If only there was someone he could trust, someone who would understand, someone, preferably, with influence. But there was. He had remembered Lord Scunner. someone, preferably with influence. But there was.

He had remembered Lord Scunner. Peter Fleming is terribly unkind in his description of the fictional Magnus James Scunner. He is presented as an uncouth, nouveau riche snob. Lord Scunner is a striving ideological pimp. But he also, because of his friendly relationship with Hitler and the Nazis, has entree to some of the highest political circles on the right wing. There is one detail about Magnus James Scunner that should give us pause. His wife. Lord Scunner has an American wife. This is surely a snide reference to King Edward VIII. When he married the American divorcee Wallace Simpson in 1936, he was forced to abdicate the throne. The Secret Service had

Edward and Wallace under surveillance for years, so a man like Peter Fleming would have known that King Edward is actually forced to abdicate not because of his love for Wallace, but rather his love for Hitler. Let me remind you of the controversial video unearthed by the tabloids a few years ago. Royal footage from 1933 showing Edward teaching his young nieces, Margaret and Elizabeth, the future and current monarch, the Nazi salute. After England declared war on Germany in 1938, most royals hid their Nazi sympathies. But even as late as 1941, there were still many of those.

Aristocrats and plutocrats who desired for Germany and Britain to reconcile. Lord Hamilton himself penned an editorial in the London Times in 1939, arguing that England's true enemy was not Hitler, but Stalin. Many of those were kept under close watch, and thus, when the plan to lure Hesse to England was put into action, some men, like Lord Hamilton, were unwittingly or wittingly pressed into service. Lord Hamilton spent decades trying to clear his name of Nazi aspersions, and it's primarily due to these efforts that we have any evidence of the MI6 plot that ensnared Hess. But still a question remains, why did Hess choose Hamilton?

We know that Lord Hamilton had attended the 1936 Summer Olympics in Berlin. And we know that he was one of the guests of honor at a banquet hosted by von Rubentrop, the Nazi ambassador to Britain. And we know that at this dinner, Lord Hamilton met most of the leading Nazis, including Hitler and Hess. But Hamilton denied ever speaking with Hess. If this is true, then yes, it makes no sense as to why he was singled out by the deputy Führer. I discovered the answer to this question, why Hamilton, a few years ago,

while doing research into a 1946 American catalog of the library belonging to Karl Haushofer, the father of the Hess aide who penned the letter to Lord Hamilton in September of 1940. This catalog included a copy of Peter Fleming's story, Hitler realizes, thanks to the memory of a Christmas picture postcard sent by Lord and Lady Scunner, that fate had deposited him on the Scunner estate. And he shares another memory of seeing Scunner's smiling, toady face at a grand dinner the two shared in 1936. During the Olympics in Berlin? Since Hitler torched all of his papers and books,

we'll never know if the library in the Führerbunker contained a copy of The Flying Visit. But I am convinced that he was immediately informed of the book when it was released. On the 16th of July 1940, the flying visit's official publication date, Hitler signed Führer Directive No. 16, which set in motion the plans for Operation Sea Lion, the invasion of The Invasion of Britain Did Hitler ever read the book? Again, we have no concrete evidence, but I want to direct you to his speech at the Sportpalast on September 4, 1940. Many observers noted Hitler spoke with a particular fury and anger as he threatened to raise Britain to the ground.

But there was one line which he delivered as a joke. In England, they're filled with curiosity and keep asking, why doesn't he come? Be calm, he's coming. This speech was delivered to a group of women, one of whom, Fräulein Bittner, was a good friend of Unity Mitford, the British socialite who famously shot herself when her beloved Hitler declared war on England. Hitler often turned to Fräulein Bittner to translate Unity's letters to him. I'm convinced she read portions of the novel to the Führer. At least, she read up to page 59. Let me set the scene for you. After realizing that he's landed on the estate of Lord Scunner,

Hitler sets out to find him. He knocks on the door of a cottage belonging to a short-sighted, hard-of-hearing elderly lady named Mrs Trumbull. Hitler is unable to communicate with her. Please, he began, his voice firm but mellifluous. Can you say please? It's no good, cried Mrs Trumbull. I can't hear what you say and I wouldn't listen if I could. We got all we need here, so I'll thank you to be off. It was a long time since anything like this had happened to Hitler

and he felt slightly appalled. Stop, old cow, he commanded in a terrible voice lapsing into German. Don't you raise your voice to me, young man, bellowed Mrs Trumbull. And a dog came bounding out of the wood and made for Hitler from behind, yapping venomously, and buried its teeth in his flying boot. Go, bitch, applauded Mrs. Trumbull. Sick him, floss. Go, little flossy.

The creature's bite was ineffective, but the Führer could not face a war on two fronts. Mastering his emotions with an effort, he withdrew crabwise but in good order in the direction from which he had come. I believe Fräulein Bittner read Hitler this passage on September 5th or 6th, because on the night of September 7th, 300 bombers raided London on his orders. The first in 57 consecutive nights of bombing. The Blitz. Hitler's response to Peter Fleming's insulting portrait. On May 20th, 1941, Rudolf Hess moved into Meschitt Place.

As he toured the substantial house, he couldn't help but note the grandeur of the sitting rooms and the impressive gramophone in the music room. One of the studies even looked as if it had been recently made up to host an important meeting. Hess's heart rose in his chest. Finally, he was going to meet the Duke. Finally, he would complete his mission and bring Germany and England together. But then Major Foley and Captain Barnes showed Hess his personal quarters. It was a fine suite of bedroom, sitting room, and bathroom, and the furnishings were adequate, though there were no electrically heated pillows. But there were bars on the windows, and the furnishings were adequate, though there were no electrically heated pillows. But there were bars on the windows, and the landing outside his door was secured by a heavy metal grill.

He was not Britain's guest of honor. He was their prisoner. Over the next two weeks, Hess began every day with a firm request for a meeting with the Duke of Hamilton. Then he refused to take his breakfast until Major Foley or Captain Barnes joined him in his room and ate from his plate. Hess was positive that the British were trying to poison him. Hess was also certain that the British were trying to drive him mad. The noise, the silence, the light, the dark, the heat, the cold. The British were using the elements to wear him down. Even the laundry powder they gave him caused him to break out into a rash,

and the Vaseline they gave him for the rash, well, that caused terrible hallucinations. One night, he saw Hitler's face in his soup. Captain Barnes and Major Foley dutifully registered each and every one of Hess's complaints. Well, all of them save his complaint about the electrically heated pillows. Tell me, Captain Barnes said, do they give the ones you have in the concentration camps electrically heated pillows? After this insolent remark,ess stopped speaking to captain barnes but then on the morning of june 9th captain barnes informed hess that a high representative of the foreign office would be coming by that afternoon to open negotiations hess let out a yell and embraced the captain. All was forgiven.

He even requested that Barnes serve as his translator. The negotiations, however, were a farce. This Lord Simon kept asking questions like on whose authority Hess was acting on and if the Nazis had any intentions to invade Russia. He even asked why the Blitz had ended with Hess' arrival on May 10th. These questions betrayed a total ignorance of the papers Hess had brought with him from Berlin. Papers which were taken from him the night he arrived. This Lord Simon had also obviously been briefed by Dr. Dix, Hess's hateful new medic who wouldn't let go of the ludicrous theory

picked up from the Lugan press, no doubt, that Hess had come to England because he was unable to consciously reject the bad qualities of his father figure. But worst of all, this Lord Simon had no access to the king. Churchill had succeeded in isolating Hess not only from the Duke of Hamilton, but from any sympathetic ear. Hess fell into a deep and dark depression. On the night of June 16th, he decided to kill himself. First, he composed a letter to Hitler.

Mein Fuhrer, I die in the conviction that my last mission, even if it ends in death, will bear some fruit. Perhaps, despite my death, or indeed precisely through my death, my flight will bring peace and understanding with England. Then he put on his full uniform and his flying boots and called out for the doctor. Dix arrived in pajamas, clutching a bottle of sleeping pills. The warder unlocked the grill door and pulled it towards him so Dix could enter. Hess then burst from his room, shoved Dix aside, and vaulted over the banister. On the way down, his left foot caught on one of the lower rungs of the banister, breaking his fall just as he struck the stone floor. The pain was incredible. Help! He screamed. Help! Somebody help! Please!

Ladies and gentlemen, I have been asked to say a few words to you on a subject very near to us all, namely, don't help the enemy. Unless you are certain who you are talking to, don't tell anybody anything. Excuse me, please. Yes, what is it? Could you tell me the way to the Woolwich Arsenal? The way to the Woolwich... Oh, Woolwich Arsenal.

Oh, you go along to the end of the road there, to that pillar box, get a tappany tram, and it'll drop you at the door. I thank you, please. You're welcome. Welcome, little stranger, falling from the skies, falling like the raindrops or the dew.

Are you out of danger? Do you realise just what sort of welcome's waiting you? Well, thanks for dropping in, Mr Hess. We've told your friends to note your new address. They've heard you got here safely in Berlin and in Rome, so put away your parachute and make yourself at home.

Arthur Askey originally called this tune It's Really Nice to See You, Mr. Hess. But at the last minute, he changed the title to, Thanks for Dropping In, Mr. Hess. He recorded it for his master's voice just in time for the record company's summer 1941 releases. But the War Office blocked the song's publication because of, I am convinced, this particular verse. Thanks for dropping in, Mr. Hess. We trust you haven't left behind a mess. Perhaps you thought that someone wouldn't take you for a ride.

Perhaps you thought it safer here than on the other side. By June, Rudolf Hess was set up in Mitchet Place, an MI6 safe house in Surrey. I'm convinced the War Office was worried that one of the guards might play this particular song for Hess on a lark, or perhaps they were worried Hess might hear it booming from the courtyard where soldiers danced on Saturday nights. This ban confirms that the Hess affair was still an open and ongoing operation in early June. British intelligence officers were still taking Hess for a ride. We do know that a number of individuals met with Hess, some under false pretenses, but all in the interest of humouring Herr Hess's belief that peace negotiations with Britain were in fact possible.

But what if we take as fact that the British were secretly negotiating with Hess in good faith, and at the same time that the British had no intention of making any deal with the Nazis. This is the perspective one must take in order to solve the Hess mystery, because it allows us to see the other player in the game, Stalin. In May of 1941, Hitler had two sets of war plans. We've already discussed the plan for the invasion of Britain, Operation Sea Lion. But Hitler also had a plan to invade Russia, Operation Barbarossa. Stalin knew that Hitler never considered the 1939 Non-Aggression Pact as something that precluded him from invading the Soviet Union.

And thus, in November 1940, he sent his ambassador, Molotov, to Berlin to meet with Ribbentrop, with the hope of forging a stronger bond between the two countries. Churchill was also aware of this meeting, and on the evening of November 13th, he sent the RAF to Berlin, forcing Molotov and Rubentrop to continue their negotiations over their respective spheres of influence in a bomb shelter underground. Thanks to our bomber crews, the Nazis have been getting more of their own medicine than they can take, and it's a great comfort to know that the Germans are getting it in the neck. Thanks to our bomber crews, the Nazis have been getting more of their own medicine than they can take. And it's a great comfort to know that the Germans are getting it in the neck.

Molotov took the bombings as evidence that the Soviets were safe to make more demands of the Nazis. But these demands infuriated Hitler. And so on December 18, 1940, he signed Führer Directive No. 21, a detailed plan to break the non-aggression pact and crush the communists once and for all. By early 1941, the British were aware of both plans. The Soviets, too, were aware of both plans. And both, the Soviets and the British, understood that while Hitler was more than happy to launch both operations,

he did not want to launch both at the same time. The British obviously wanted the Nazis to go with Operation Barbarossa first, and the Soviets, understandably, wanted the Nazis to launch Operation Sea Lion first. By early May 1941, Stalin's advisers were convinced that Hitler had decided on Operation Barbarossa. The British were also sending him warnings of an impending German invasion through formal and informal channels. But Stalin refused to believe any of it. He was convinced that the whole thing was a British deception campaign.

Most historians take this as evidence of Stalin's ignorance and hubris. But what if Stalin was correct? About five years ago, I uncovered what might be the most important piece of evidence relating to the Hesse affair. Another copy of The Flying Visit. This one turned up in Moscow. A colleague sent it to me. He picked it up at an estate sale. He never bothered to open it. If he had, I'm sure he would have kept it for himself.

For on the title page is a stamp. Bibliotheca I.V. Stalina. This copy of The Flying Visit was once part of the personal library of Joseph Stalin. After the war, Peter Fleming wrote up a report on his intelligence activities. He had some recommendations for future British deception officers. One of these recommendations, I believe, explains everything about the Hess affair. The first and great commandment, Peter writes, is that you don't want just to make the enemy think,

you want to make him do something that will help you. And the second is like unto it, never, never ever mount a deception operation with no clear object, just because you have the means of doing so. What exactly did the British want the enemy to do? What was the objective? This is the question we must ask. If we take the enemy to be the Nazis, then we can say with certainty that the British wanted the enemy to invade the Soviet Union. But what if the enemy was the Soviet Union? What if the Soviet Union was the target of the deception campaign.

Well then, in this case we must ask, what did the British want Stalin to do? On May 15th, when reports of Hess's arrival reached Moscow, Marshal Zhukov, head of the Soviet armed forces, was convinced it was a sign that the British and the Germans were close to coming to a wartime understanding. He presented Stalin with a plan. Instead of waiting for an invasion that was certain to come, he proposed an attack on the southwestern front of Germany using 152 Soviet tank divisions. Stalin reportedly flew into a rage, berating Zhukov in front of everyone. We will not fire a single bullet at the Germans, he screamed. We will not be drawn into this disinformation plot.

At four o'clock this morning, Hitler attacked and invaded Russia. On June 22nd, 1941, Hitler launched Operation Barbarossa. His invasion of Russia is no more than a prelude to an attempted invasion of the British Isles. That evening, Churchill addressed the nation, pledging his support for the people of the Soviet Union. No one has been a more consistent opponent of communism than I have for the last 25 years. I will unsay no word that I have spoken about it. But all this fades away before the spectacle which is now unfolding.

And then, on July 12, 1941, England and the Soviet Union entered into a formal military alliance. Hitler was now fighting a war on two fronts. Well, in theory. The Allies didn't officially open a second front until 1944 with the invasion of Normandy. It's this delay that fuels most of the suspicions that the English did come to some kind of agreement with Hess. It's this delay that gives life to rumors

that there are secret codicils signed by Churchill and Hitler locked away in official archives. Even Stalin linked the two matters when Churchill came to visit him in Moscow on August 12, 1942. It will be noticed that Mr. Stalin was wearing his customary semi-uniform of light brown while Mr Churchill had donned the siren suit so often seen during his visit to America. The Stalin pipe and the Churchill cigar had not yet been lit but plenty of tobacco was burnt during the many hours the Allied leaders were together working in close and friendly collaboration. It was at this meeting when Stalin famously offered Churchill a

toast to the British secret services, a toast most interpret as Stalin admitting to Churchill that he possessed knowledge of the successful deception operation that had brought Hess west. West. But I believe this interpretation is incorrect. I am convinced Stalin was toasting not a British success, but rather a failure. Stalin was reminding Churchill that his intelligence agencies had failed. They had failed to trick the Soviets into attacking first. Imagine for a moment what would have happened if Stalin had attacked Germany first. As for Operation Sea Lion, nothing would have changed. By necessity, Hitler would have turned his attention to the East. And knowing Hitler was loath to fight on two fronts, the British would have had all the time it needed

to firm up their alliance with America and build up their war machine. And if the Soviets appealed to the British for aid, well, Churchill would have the upper hand. Had the Soviets attacked first, Stalin would have gone down in history as the aggressor. And after Germany was defeated, either in battle or in surrender, Churchill's position that the communists could not be trusted and were enemies of peace would have been even stronger.

If Stalin had attacked first, Churchill potentially could have won his case to launch Operation Unthinkable on July 1, 1945. His plan to bring together British, American, French, Polish, and German, yes, German troops to push the Soviets out of East Germany and Poland. But Stalin did not attack first. He knew. This is the sacred battle song, hastily composed in the days after the Nazis invaded. It was presented to Stalin on July 26 with a live

performance in the Belorusskiy rail terminal. Reportedly, Stalin's favorite composer, Aleksandr Aleksandrov, was tweaking Vasily Lebedev-Kumachev's lyrics up until the very very moment it was recorded. We'll drive a bullet into the head of the rotten fascist filth and the scum of humanity shall be driven to its tomb. This song is not just a battle song about defending the motherland against the fascists. This is also a battle song about defending the motherland against the scum of humanity,

the capitalists. Stalin made Churchill listen to it numerous times. On August 17, 1987, Rudolf Hess, Spandau Prison's sole remaining Nazi inmate, died. He was 93. The Four Powers released a statement ruling the death a suicide. Hess had taken an extension cord and hung himself in a summer house that had been set up in the prison garden as a reading room. Spandau Prison was immediately demolished, and to ensure that the site would never become a Nazi shrine, a shopping center was constructed. But Hess's spirit lived on. British soldiers dubbed the new market Hesko's, a play on the British grocery store Tesco. Hess's body was initially buried at a secret location. But in March of 1988, he was reinterred into a family plot in the small Bavarian village of Wanzada.

Hess's family had the phrase, Ich habe es gewagt, I have dared, engraved on the tombstone. The following summer, on the anniversary of Hess's death, the first marchers showed up. Initially, they claimed they were marching for justice. They demanded an inquiry into the circumstances of Hess's death. They questioned how a frail 93-year-old man who couldn't even lift his arms over his head could successfully hang himself from a high window frame. They were convinced that British agents had murdered Hess to ensure that the truth of his 1941 flight would forever remain a mystery. By 1990, Hess's gravesite had become a Nazi shrine.

And over the next decade, as many as 7,000 neo-Nazis descended on Wunzidau every August to memorialize the life and death of Rudolf Hess. In 2005, authorities banned the Hess March, citing Article 130 of the German Criminal Code, which outlaws incitement. The neo-Nazis simply changed the name of their celebration to a day of democracy, and the march went on as scheduled. In 2011, the village, fed up with the annual pageantry, denied the Hess family an extension on the

gravesite's lease. Hess's remains were exhumed and cremated, and his ashes were scattered at sea. Hess's tombstone was also destroyed. But the neo-Nazis are still marching. In 2014, a new right-wing group called the Third Way Party took charge of the annual pilgrimage to Wiesendal. And every year since, the number of marchers has multiplied. London is filled with monuments and statues memorializing both sacrifices and victories of World War II. And while you will find a few pieces from Hesse's doomed plane in the Imperial War Museum, no monument has ever been erected to commemorate what happened on May 10, 1941. But a few years ago, back in 2017, while watching a news item about the restoration of the Allies sculpture, I stumbled upon a very intriguing piece of information.

The Allies sculpture celebrates the close relationship between Churchill and Roosevelt. It's a bronze piece by sculptor Lawrence Holofcener. You'll find it in Mayfair, where old and new Bond streets meet. Churchill and Roosevelt are sitting together on a bench. But they're not sitting next to each other. There's a space between them. This is one of the reasons the statue is so popular. Tourists love to sit in between the two world leaders and take selfies. But this empty space also emphasizes the absence of Stalin, the other World War II ally who once sat with Churchill and Roosevelt on a bench like this one on Bond Street at the conference in Yalta. Stalin's absence was

also emphasized when Princess Margaret publicly unveiled the statue on May 2, 1995, the 50th anniversary of Berlin's surrender to the small news item I saw on my television that December evening. The reporter was talking with one of the late Hall of Senators' assistants about the controversy over Stalin's absence. The assistant mentioned that some of the controversy could have been avoided had they stuck to the original plan to unveil the statue the following week, rather than on the day the Soviet forces took Berlin. The following morning, I went down to Bond Street to visit the statue myself. At first, I thought I was lost. I couldn't see the statue.

But that was only because of the crowd. A large group of pro-Brexit protesters had swarmed around the statue. They were all carrying signs with slogans like, no deal, no delay, immigrants out, and Lügenpresse. An elderly member of the group had wedged himself between Roosevelt and Churchill. He was carrying a doll made to look like Theresa May with a rope around her neck. His T-shirt said, Globalism equals communism. There was a big Leave Means Leave march that day,

and eventually this group moved on to Trafalgar Square to join it. The Allies statue sits in front of the high-end watch store Patek Philippe, and once the protesters were gone, a window display of glittering gold watches filled the space between Churchill and Roosevelt. From my perspective that morning, the whole statue was framed by the luxury of time. As I stood there, a line from the memoir of the Nazi philosopher Alfred Rosenberg popped into my head. Great philosophical changes need many generations to turn them into pulsating life. And even our present acres of death will someday bloom again.

On May 10, 1941, Rudolf Hess took a short flight to Scotland to convince the British that they should join the Nazis to fight the Communists as allies. He failed. And four years later, the Nazis were completely destroyed. But today, 80 years later, in order to protect themselves from taxes and regulations, Britain's elites have forged an alliance with fascists. It may have taken longer, but Hess has succeeded. He's succeeded beyond his wildest dreams. You have been listening to Benjamin Walker's Theory of Everything. This installment is called

The Longest, Shortest Flight of Rudolf Hess. This episode was written and produced by me, Benjamin Walker, and Andrew Calloway. And while there are many, many historians and independent scholars and researchers out there who've dedicated decades of their lives to solving the mystery of Rudolph Hess and his strange 1941 flight, this is the first and only podcast to feature the voice of Mel Dockery. The Theory of Everything is a proud founding member of Radiotopia, home to some of the world's best podcasts. And as you heard at the beginning, this episode is part of a network-wide welcome to a brand new Radiotopia show.

In partnership with Overdrive Magazine, Over the Road explores the daily life and changing culture of trucking in America. Host Long Haul Paul has driven a truck for nearly 40 years, and he brings you along for the ride. Here's a taste of the show. I want you to think about the last time you took a long drive. You pull onto the freeway and merge into the center lane. Take a sip of coffee and set the cruise control. Then around the bend, you see the back of a tractor trailer. As you come alongside the cab you can just make out one arm slung over the steering

wheel. As you look up for just a second you, where's that truck going? What's inside it? And who's that person behind the wheel? Well, there's a slight chance that person was me. I've driven a truck for almost 40 years now. It was some help from the good folks at Radiotopia and Overdrive Magazine. I'm going to take you along for a ride. I'm Long Haul Paul, and this is Over the Road. To find out more and subscribe, head to overtheroad.fm.

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