Written by Max Hammer.

2021-04-02 12 min read


It does sound better in German: Festung Ljungbyhed in Frontstadt Klippan, and though the scene is not by far ­ at least not yet as bloody and furious, the mission of the Blood & Honour battalion holding up in the small southern Swedish town has all the other ingredients of a war-like conflict of some 50 years ago. White stormtroopers against a clique of cosmopolitan "democrats", ZOG militia, Bolshevik thugs and Asian hordes. And all to the delight of the masonic/Mosaic media moles.

If you live in Sweden, you will immediately understand what I am on about, as the scenery has been described and photographed from all possible angles by both local and national (sic) media in that unfortunate country, ruled by spineless ZOG puppets of the most pathetic but still pompous and poisonous breed. For all you other White comrades out there, we'll now bring you a story that may seem hard to believe - even for the most hardened veterans of the ongoing war of resistance. But it is true, and unlike fairy tales it has no happy ending and the black witch has not been slaughtered. Actually, there is no ending in sight ­ which is one of the more positive sides of this story. Because, whatever happens, the comrades involved will do whatever it takes to keep the story of Fortress Ljungbyhed going, eventually becoming an epic tale of Aryan courage and determination inspiring future battalions and bastions of White survivalism.

Now, before I get carried away into an Edda-like drama of poetic dimensions, I'll just give you the facts. (For sure some up and coming White minstrel of resistance rock will soon anthemize it all.) The stage is quite poetic and even historic, though. Just some 100 metres from the old and monumental monastery outside the village of Ljungbyhed lies a picturesque group of small red cottages next to the abandoned railway line. Once it was the home of the Ljungbyhed lineman. Now it has been reshaped into a camp of Nordic resistance fighters, a fortress of National revolution, a bastion of White Power. This is the initiative of one brave comrade and the work of a few good men (and women). They all belong to Blood & Honour Scandinavia but although they have settled on Swedish soil, they form a knighthood of various Germanic tribes: Sweden, Denmark, Norway, Finland and Germany. And the township they have entered (and in many's eyes conquered) is already well-known for its bloody outbursts of local race war. Here an illegal Negro immigrant was stabbed to death by two B&H sympathisers, a Kosovo-Albanian criminal and self-appointed anti-fascist gang leader stabbed and shot at by another friend of B&H while his mate and fellow Islamic mobster was stabbed by a female B&H activist as the climax of a long period of harassment by the local Kosovo hoodlums. Pretty much for a town of merely 20 000 inhabitants, you may think. Whatever, that's exactly what the mayor and his black arse licking croonies in town hall and their chums in the local newspapers thought. And believe me, they were more than shocked when news came that Nazi of international fame, Marcel Schilf, had not just moved to the outskirts of Klippan but also turned his home into a regular fort, where other evil Nazis from all over Europe (and America, too ­ so now you know) gathered to plot against democracy while giving illegal salutes, saying forbidden words and listening to banned music! And ironically, the worst part of it was that Mr Schilf had the cheek to settle far away from other town dwellers and building a big fence, both making it more or less impossible to actually hear or see all the supposed evil thingies going on in that nest of fascism and bigotry!

For the media moles, there was no problem. Just listen to ol' town gossips and village fools and then print their fantasies, illustrated with air photos taken at great expense. But what will you not do to sell a piece of jewspaper, you hypocrite editors of Helsingborg Dagblad and Nordvästra Skånes Tidningar (NST)? During the 3rd Reich's advances in the war against Zionism and communism, these two papers were notorious for their Nazi sympathies, which curiously enough died out along with the frozen legions of Hitler's war machinery outside Stalingrad.

It was THE FENCE that triggered the news explosion. To be honest, I am not at all surprised. If I were not burdened by experiences from "dealing" with the muddy moles of the pen-pushing kind, I'd even be a bit understanding. The fence was BIG, no way getting around that (if you pardon my pun). Initially, the li'l carpenter and his busy helpers constructed a nearly 3 metres tall, 100 metres long wooden fence around half of the 3000 square metres of ground! That may seem a lot to those who raised it, and it was definitely too much for those who confronted it! Town hall, forgetting about their usual petty squabbles, swiftly presented a united front against the Fence. Comrade Marcel had to give in ­ but only a metre! Complying to building regulations, he cut the fence down to (about...) 1.80 metres. Naturally, nobody in the "democratic" camp were satisfied, but they still wanted to avoid direct confrontation. After all, open battle is not the trait of Swedish politicians, whether they reside in parliament or Klippan's town hall! But what a gang of has-been farmers-turned-village bureaucrats cannot do, the boys in blue could do for them. Constant harassment and supervision by police cars with uniformed and plain-cloth police men was the order of the day (and night!). All were waiting for Mr Schilf's next move. What was his purpose in coming there, upsetting the local aliens and disturbing the political peace of the village? More concrete: WHAT WAS HE HIDING BEHIND THAT CURSED FENCE????

The newspapers had their own theories. Studio and CD factory (!). Where Schilf goes, CDs flourish, seemed to be their kind of logic. (Marcel Schilf, Erik Blücher and Hans Himmler Petersson were at this time in court charged with "racial hatred" for allegedly distributing Ragnarock Records WP CDs and NS88 WP videos. They won that battle, but that's another exciting story which this time ZOG would like to keep going on forever...)

The truth is that initially, this desolate place was meant as a retreat for Marcel and his girlfriend. Faced with the fact that peace was the last thing he would find in that neck of the woods, our comrade decided to build what was long overdue in Sweden (despite a vigorous campaign by NSF to raise funds for a similar project): a gathering place for National Socialists and National revolutionaries. Somewhere they could stay, meet, party (surprise, surprise), sleep (...), plot (hehe) and play (hmm). And his call for visitors was quickly answered. From the shores of Denmark, the mountains of Norway, the lakes of Finland, the Bierstuben of Germany, the backyards and bars of eastern Europe they came, alongside the natives of course. Their breed: Aryans; their creed: Blood & Honour. As it turned out, the place was ideally suited for its new purpose. Hundreds have gathered and WP bands such as Vinland Warriors from Canada, Razors Edge from The UK, Hate Society, Weisse WölfeSperrfeuer, Celtic Moon and Oidoxie from Germany, Mistreat from Finland and HMF from Sweden have played to audiences ranging from 50 to 200. (also on our old Club Valhalla in Helsingborg since mid-1990's saw live concerts from Squadron & Stigger (ballads) from The UK, Kraftschlag from Germany, Das Reich from The USA, OdalmannenHeysel, Nibelüngen, Völund Smed, Bärsärkarna, Storm & Pluton Svea (before Jocke took over the vocal duties) and plenty more in our recording studio (like for example Landser, Heroes etc).

The fascinating gig with berserker-like Vinland Warriors and C18 radicals of Oidoxie was an open-door event where these two great bands inaugurated the new scene that was created out of a shack just a day before this mega-event that attracted both police, newspapers and TV cameras. In his speech to the WP crowd of Swedes, Danes, Norwegians, Finns, Germans, Slovak and Americans, comrade Erik Blücher likened the place with the gradually abandoned military camp situated only a five minutes' drive away. "While the rulers of today's Sweden give up the old fortresses of the nation's crumbling army, Blood & Honour build a new bastion of national defence against alien invasion and foreign occupation," Blücher roared. He also touched upon the touchy subject of salutes. The new unhappy lords of multi-culturalism have banned our ancient greeting of peace. "But they do not deserve to be met with this gesture. There is no peace between them and us. Now is the time for the clenched White fist of racial war!" And the crowd merrily and enthusiastically answered with their right hand raised in the old Roman (and not so old German) fashion shouting the magic words of Hail Victory (in German...) Can we blame them? Hell, no! And comrade Erik didn't look too much upset either. Here were just comrades, familiar White faces lit up by the bonfire, spirited by the message of National Revolution (and some good Danish beer...) and inspired by the music of Aryan resistance. The police had withdrawn and the few murky lurkers in the woods who duly reported their hearings to their editors, bothered no-one but the forest creatures and night flies.

Next day's press ravings of Nazi "orgies" did, however, force the strained police to spend about 60 000 Swedish crowns on a helicopter circling over the property for three hours Monday noon time. All they could see were a few comrades enjoying the sunny weather. (The trained cop eye may have detected a few raised fingers in an ACAB salute, though) Next to be engaged in the unholy war against the B&H; bastion were the minions of Antifa. But their acts of war were limited to pathetic provocations like driving around the area in the safety of their Bolshevikmobiles during the midnight hour. But Reds are Reds are unstable scum. Our people just couldn't risk some loony lefty with a firebomb going even more insane than usual. A security guard was set up and a few pinkos scared away (including some intruders from the notorious scandal sheet Kvällsposten who declared that those were some horrible moments in their crappy lives when the Nazis appeared and they couldn't get their motor running.) The police, who actually have not been that bad, and who have refused to interfere in what is going on private ground, were, however, not so happy with the prospect of a local Schutz Staffel. They grabbed two comrades carrying axes and knives. But this may actually have taken place within Schilf's property, and anyway, the equipment was naturally only to be used during the cleansing of bushes and reconstruction of the gate. (Hey, it was really hot that day! The night shift was somehow more of a natural choice...) The scandal sheets did not all see it in this way. A new wave of aggressive journalism flooded our gates, and we were prepared for the worst ­ we thought.

By now the local politicos were very upset indeed. And the journalists ran back and forth getting statements from both the social democrat mayor Rune Persson and the chief of the "moderate" opposition, Bengt Svensson. At first the moldy mayor rejected ideas of forcing Schilf out of town. It would not be "democratic", was his argument for not engaging in anti-fascist pogroms. Then ­ trying to score some cheap political points ­ the opposition leader called for the "harshest measures against the scum". In case you did not quite understand, he was referring to police action against the B&H supporters. This is when things really turned absurd.

At the risk of being seen as "lenient to Nazis" petty Persson committed a foul deed of power abuse and mental corruption. Secretly, he contacted the actual owner of Schilf's castle, an old couple that for one year had bravely stood up for their tenant and refused to be bullied by either media or secret police to cancel his rent contract. Where threats did not work, the political mobster of Klippan turned to no less than outright bribery by offering nearly half a million Swedish crowns for a property that was valued at a mere quarter of the taxpayers' money which he waved in front of the poor couple's noses. Naturally (and in some ways understandably) they chose an overdose of capital rather than a bundle of worries. A contract was drawn up, signed by the landlord and ready for speedy procedure in the coming meeting of the department dealing with local government property. Everything could have turned kosher if it were not for an inquisitive journalist from NST who got the old landlord to reveal the plot. Embarrassed by the publicity, the mayor defended the bid, claiming that this notorious and quite run-down set of shacks in the middle of nowhere could act as an ideal spot for a tourist information bureau!!!! Did he think that anyone actually believed him? Not really. Instead, he nourished his image as the new master of political cleansing, his newspaper buddies quoting anonymous village fools celebrating the coming departure of the little evil Nazi and his company.

But he, as all others, should have known better than to trust a pen-pushing ink spiller. Certainly, the media do not like us "Nazis". But more than their antipathy for us, weighs their need for juicy ­ and selling ­ news stories. What would happen if the rowdy Nazis left? No more shocking exposures, no more in-depth analysis ­ in short, lesser newspapers sold. So they sort of turned sides, making sure they created some news out of that too. Schilf was informed of his rights as a tenant and immediately and with much ardour contacted both a lawyer and the local police for permission to stage protest demonstrations against town hall's mismanagement of the Klippan citizens' tax money.

What was meant to be secretive wheeler-dealings, turned into a mayor's major embarrassment. In the usual manner of Swedish politicians, he quickly dropped the hot, rotten potato ­officially claiming that the plan would require further studies. The landlord claimed the whole thing was kind of misunderstanding, and the newspapers keep a low profile, awaiting comrade Marcel's next attics.

At the time of writing, our comrades from various local B&H branches are gathered to strengthen the unity and speed up the activities of Blood & Honour in Sweden. Soon more great White entertainers will arrive at the gates of our fortress. Parties will be organized, comrades will enjoy the brotherhood of White man. Political speeches will echo from the walls of our Eagle's Nest, toasts will be made in the clubhouse of our new Club Valhalla. And the work of the national revolution carries on, more enjoyable and more enduring than ever.

And whatever happens in Ljungbyhed, there will always be a liberated spot of Nordic ground where we shall make our stand. Hail the White combatants of Klippan and every other White resistance bastion in Europe. Victory shall be ours ­ whatever it takes!

Blood & Honour ­ in our hearts and in our towns!

- Max Hammer

club28 helsingborg klippan ljungbyhed marcel schilf jäsä pierre ljunggren my house blood and honour
rene vinland warriors live sweden 2000
vinland warriors oidoxie club28 helsingborg sweden blood and honour scandinavia


  Rene - Vinland WarriorS






                              Marcel Schilf addressing the audience

The morning after .... Max Hammer (in the middle) with Vinland Warriors.

Fortress Ljungbyheds guard dogs, 'Wotan' & 'Hess' with Jäsä & a few lads from B&H Stockholm. 'Hess' bit a neat slice off a nosy reporter's calve one night. 

jäsä magnus terror olsson blood and honour stockholm helsingborg b&h scandinavia marcel schilf ns88

   Jäsä & Magnus 'Terror'  Olsson on the RIGHT side at the Festung Ljungybhed 2000.

    Klippans' r3d mayor Rune Persson aka 'farty silver queer' as he was better known.

           Jesper Hartmann & Marcel Schilf in 1994 ... together they founded NS88.

Marcel & Jäsä at DNSB's HQ just outside of Copenhagen, October 1997 while being filmed for 'Skin Or Die' documentary.

Club28's intact gate just prior before it was smashed in by the bacons in blue division.