Visits are allowed to
Zündel. His address is Ernst Zündel, JVA,
Herzogenriedstr. 111, D 68161 Mannheim, Germany. For
visiting permission, write to the judge, Herr Schmelcher,
c/o AG Mannheim (Haftrichter), Bismarck-Str. 14
(Schloss), D 68161 Mannheim, Germany
#3 on Ernst Zündel
March 26, 2005. Ingrid Rimland, Ernst's wife,
writes from California:
So far, I have received only two
letters from Ernst. I translated and posted portions of
the first - the second one is actually more interesting,
somewhat of a political projection treatise for America
and the world. However, there is just no way I can
translate this 8-page letter. The gist of it is that the
world scenario is such that everybody's cards are going
to get re-shuffled - and soon! It is a fascinating
I can already feel a second
"Setting the Record Straight" prison memoir coming
I should also put on the record
something I have suspected for years and finally heard it
reaffirmed - there is an arrest warrant out for me as
well, which means that I can't go to Germany, probably
not even to Europe.
Poor Germany, about to be
destabilized by Ingrid! Bizarre!
Below are excerpts from various
letters to friends, who have faxed them to me for my
archives. As I have done before for the sake of
readability, I have combined them by content and
Therefore, these segments are Ernst
Zündel composites, written to more than one person,
about the middle of March:
PLEASE forgive the lateness of this
letter, but I had no stamps. A staff member lent me a
pen, but it ran out of ink after 1 1/2 pages to Ingrid.
Since I did not know a soul here, I had to first make
acquaintances - and then was able to trade some sugar for
the rental/borrowing for a pen. A real, full length,
common-sense ball point pen! Things are looking up
You most likely were told [of my deportation]
by Canada's Chief Removal/Enforcement Officer, Mr.
Morris, who arranged my removal via executive jet
and accompanied me all the way to Europe. With that
arrangement of a "human shield" I felt safe! I really was
concerned about an Air India scenario. Since these people
have shown such vindictiveness I would put nothing past
[Ingrid's comment: The Air India scenario
has to do with a passenger plane that crashed several
decades ago under highly suspicious circumstances due
to a parcel bomb, strongly implicating involvement by
CSIS. I don't know the details, except what I glanced
from the controlled Canadian media in passing.]
Mr. Morris told me that the Lindsays
[Canadian lead attorneys] were supposed to be
notified by approximately 10 a.m. as soon as we were
airborne. I don't know if that promise was kept or not.
My sister would have informed Ingrid, so poor woman - she
at least knew I was safe!
THEY allowed me to call Rieger, but of course it
was after midnight, so I spoke unto his tape to let him
know I had arrived. Then I was briefly allowed to tell my
sister, who had stayed up. She only lives an hour from
the airport and the prison.
The German police made a mistake saying I arrived on
the 1st of March. German handcuffs closed about my wrists
at 00:01, March 2, 2005. There were lots of police
cruisers/police buses which swarmed around the plane and
encircled it. Photographers, TV cameras were everywhere.
The police thought they should apologize, because they
could not shake the reporters. Little did they know! I
was rearrested two steps away from the gangway, just like
in the movies. It will make a great film one day.
I was accompanied by German border police, the German
version of the FBI, the Staatsschutz - sounds
suspicious when you [use only the initials] - all
of these people looked at me with wide-eyed curiosity
because of course the media had been informed and it was
all over national TV and daily papers.
Then I was put into a cell, no toilet, no sink, just a
wooden box with a sloped board for a pillow. Morning
came. Even though I slept on that plywood bed, the
policeman gave me two blankets, which was nice. I was
beat, having written letters till 2 a.m. and asked my
guards to awaken me after less than two hours to write
some more and pack my things. So I fell asleep
The Canadian prison doctors had given me my blood
pressure pills and my multivitamin. The German
[police] got me some water, and I asked for a
piece of bread, which needed to be consumed with the
pills. No problem! The most wonderfully crusty and tasty
German Rye bread was handed to me, which I had longed for
for 25 months. I ate it in a police cruiser to court,
slowly, like a religious celebration. Finally German
Within minutes, I was uncuffed and faced the judge,
who had to decide whether to give me bail or keep me in
investigative custody. I had no illusions.
SINCE no one had told me what, if anything, I could take
on board with me, I opted to send you some of my personal
photos, drawings, etc., in a large envelope. I saw
[one of the prison captains] tape it shut before
my eyes. I had addressed it, put stamps on it, and asked
you in a note to send it to Jurgen Rieger [German
lead attorney] for temporary safekeeping. As soon as
I meet him, I will tell him what to do with it.
I have not seen him in the two weeks I have been here
because the Chief Prosecutors have so far refused for
months to allow him to look at the charges and documents
against me, which is customarily done in Germany before a
person is in investigative custody - in other words, held
without bail pending trial. A lawyer in Germany is
supposed to be shown these things so he can appear before
the judge to argue for bail or the amount of bail,
sureties etc. Otherwise, we once again have a Canadian
type secret evidence/sectret witnesses situation. Rieger
advised the court, and me, by fax that I would not
respond to the police, prosecutor, or judge, unless he is
given some insights - and he strongly advised me not to
talk to anyone.
would [assume] that they are playing hardball
with him, and that he will have to make some motion for
disclosure - like in many of my cases. The same old
pattern rears its ugly head. With one difference - any
time I serve in here in investigative custody will be
deducted from my certain-to-be-lengthy sentence. So I am
in no rush.
[One fax line unreadable] --- OR Thorold and
Toronto West with all its humiliations, inconveniences,
indignities etc. - I can take this. The only worry is
Ingrid, because I am not allowed to make any calls while
in investigative custody, not even to Rieger, I was told!
I can write. All mail has to be sent for censoring to the
court, to the judge who decided to incarcerate me. I have
no idea how long this takes before you get this
As you can see, I write with a real ball point pen,
not a sawed-through pencil stub. I have gotten so used to
those German art pencils for my drawings that I now
actually miss them. There is one artist in this prison
who, according to the prison newspaper, has made over 500
paintings! Imagine! I think he has been here for many
years. I saw several of his paintings on the
institution's wall in the visitor area. He is a very good
artist - better than I - when it comes to horses, people
THINGS are different here! We cannot buy pre-stamped
envelopes from the prison or color pencils, pads etc.
Here they have a real store, self-serve, where the
prisoners buy a large variety of items, like in any
supermarket at home. Imagine that!
In that store one can even buy fresh eggs, grapes,
lettuce, chives, parsley, onions. Unfortunately there are
no fridges, so things will wilt and spoil, but at least
one can get some fresh stuff every two weeks - better
than once in two years. Some of the old-timers insist
that it is a well-stocked supermarket. I'll report to you
on that in the future.
I AM no longer locked in under three-men guard with every
male and female guard seeing me naked while I shower
behind bars. There are also large clothes racks and hooks
to hang our pants, underwear etc. like civilized people.
There were no clothes hooks "for security reasons" in
Toronto, which meant the clothes often got moist or wet.
In Toronto I was given a towel, and it was taken from me
the moment the iron gate was unlocked. Here I walk from
my cell to the shower, not under guard, with my clothes
on, with my own soap, my own shampoo. There are four to
five shower stalls, all gleaming white porcelain tiles,
like in Mauthausen [one of the well-known
concentration camps] or elsewhere - same
architectural layout. It's uncanny, as if I was living my
trials. I often think of the film we made with Fred
[Leuchter] - it's all so similar.
In Toronto I was taken to a small, 20 meter square
cemented interior court yard, alone, outside, while two
to three guards watched me from the inside at all times.
I was given ten minutes. Many days, when it snowed, I
could not go out because the snow was ankle- or
knee-high. I asked for a snow shovel. In two years they
could not organize one. Here the loudspeaker alerts the
prisoners to the "Hofgang" which means "yard walk". Then
the guards unlock our cell doors. I still am allowed to
wear my own clothes and my Tennessee Mountain boots and
THE judge agreed with the prosecutor that I represented a
flight risk, even though I have no passport or credit
card. I represented myself and told them I would refuse
to answer any questions until I had spoken to Rieger,
since I did not know what my rights were. They wanted me
to sign a paper that would have transferred the right
from the Judge to the Chief Prosecutor to determine when
I could see whom, and he would send the police to
interrogate me in prison. Both Judge and Prosecutor
seemed to me too insistent for me to sign it, so I
remembered Shakespeare and the Lady protesting too much,
knowing that these people were not exactly looking out
after my best interest. I firmly refused to sign that
As soon as court was over, I was brought back,
processed in, DNA sample taken, photographed endlessly,
finger-printed, handball-printed - then I was allowed to
take some things from my suitcases. My pictures of my
grandchildren and our gallery and place in Tennessee have
vanished. I don't know if they were confiscated or what,
but eventually, once I have settled in, I will make
inquiries. The staff so far have been correct,
professional all of them.
That's where things rest today. Rieger has not seen me
- maybe because of my actions they are jerking him
around, maybe he has a full calendar - it makes no
difference to me. I have years in prison ahead of me
whether I see Rieger in a week, a month, or a year.
That's one thing I have learned - don't be in a hurry in
this line of work and this situation.
I can't call Ingrid while I am in investigative
custody. That will be hard on her, but to be the wife of
Ernst Zundel is not easy. Ingrid knows this by now. And
we will overcome this, too, in due course.