American Flag flying upside down as signal of DISTRESS


As you are aware, Judge Flinn of Contra Costa County ruled in favor of James Smith and ordered that his hand-gun and all his other confiscated property be returned to him by the city of Pittsburg, California. For details regarding that decision, click Smith's Gun To Be Returned .

Dieter Dahmen took pen in hand and wrote Judge Flinn to commend him for his decision and rehearse to him the situation Dahmen was intimately familiar with in Nazi Germany and how it applied in this matter.



Dieter H. Dahmen
Carmichael, CA 95608
January 4, 2003

The Honorable David B. Flinn
Judge, Superior Court
Superior Court, Department 6
725 Court Street
Martinez, CA 94553

Re: City of Pittsburgh v. James Smith, Case No. NO2--0068, Peter Mancus, Defense Attorney

Dear Honorable Judge Flinn:

As you will remember, Mr. Smith's colt commander had been slated for destruction and he had, to either be reimbursed or his property returned to him, engaged Attorney Peter Mancus to obtain his legal remedies.

It is your ruling in this matter that compels me to write to you. I hope my letter finds you well and not too inundated with court affairs that would prevent your reading it. But so that you will understand why I am compelled to write to you, I thought it necessary that you should know who I am and what I am.

I was not born in this country. On May 9th, 1945, only nine days and nine years old, near the German town of Tangermnde on the Elbe River, I had appealed to the Holy Grail to appoint me his knight and to turn me into a mighty Nazi warrior so that I could single handedly defeat the enemies of my fatherland. He did not listen and no one could rejoice more than I that grailian ears did not hear that day.

In early 1943, to escape British air raids, my mother, my three sisters, and I - my father was fighting on Germany's Russian front - came to be evacuated to a small town on the Oder River, just a little south of what was then the German city of Breslau, but is now the Polish city of Wraclow. Germany's fronts were collapsing and the firestorm she had ignited was now consuming her.

The worst of her destruction came from her collapsing eastern front, where the Russian host was satiating his hatred with German blood. Having been subjected to 25 years of a Bolshevik democracy and centuries of czarist rule before had not only robbed the Russian people of their free will and in many cases of their lives, as socialism is always wont to do, but also of their souls. Being without souls they had become beasts and having become beasts, they acted like beasts. I must insist here quickly that I, in no wise, wish to extol Nazi nobility. Far from it. I have no doubt whatsoever that had the Nazi democracy survived, it would have reached the same level of brutality and bestiality all forms of socialism in time must reach. Then it had just not yet gotten there.

As it was Russia's incredible lust for German blood brought me face to face with an incredible fear of seeing my mother and sisters, whom I loved dearly, fall into hands not able and not accustomed to showing kindness.

Can you now sense the overpowering relief, when I heard that we would flee west to where the Americans were who, they said, were a gracious people?

And so it came to be that on May 9th, 1945, we, my father, who only a few months before had miraculously found us, my mother, my three sisters, I, and eight others, all in a small fishing boat my father had found, were, from among perhaps hundreds of thousands of refugees, the very last to cross the River Elbe into American protection, while being pursued by the growling shells of Russia's hate in search of sacrifice.

I will never forget that day; for it was then that I came face to face with the truest and most refined form of nobility ever shown. Magnanimity toward a vanquished foe! In this they came close to emulating the Redeemer Who, having offered Himself a ransom for the human kind, forgave, when they slew Him with wicket hands. American knights! These magnificent warriors, all with a heart of gold, gave me to drink when I was thirsty, gave me to eat when was hungry, sheltered me when I was exposed, and gave me presents when I expected scorn. They forgave, for then they were truly a new species of humans.

When my life returned to some form of normalcy, I reflected on the incredible graciousness of these saints and discovered the reason for their greatness; they were gracious, because they were a free people and they were a free people, because the were a sovereign people. They were a sovereign people, because, as the Founding Fathers had intended it to be, the God-given, not the man-given, right to keep and bear arms had made them so.

Tragically, the insidious attack on this most euphoric provision of our Constitution over these last nearly forty years has robbed the American people of their sovereignty, thus of their freedoms and because of that of their graciousness. It is this the simplest explanation for the madness seen today almost everywhere and it should present no difficulty to understand the melancholy that visits me when I reflect on so much greatness lost.

How sad to have to realize that almost no one knows that the Second Amendment's true purpose and real essence is to invest the American citizen with sovereignty and that it is, therefore, every American's God-given mandate to be armed in defense of liberty. Most, and I include here only those who express no repugnance toward arms, take hunting, plinking, and self-defense against crime and even against a tyrannical government to be the essential proviso of the Second Amendment.

However, although a most scintillating assertion of our Second Amendment that, sadly, is a misperception, for even defense against tyranny would be muted if the citizen's sovereignty were still intact. Hunting, plinking, and self-defense, though essential for procuring safety in any person's life, are not the essential exponents of the right to keep and bear arms.

While not being essential, they are nevertheless significant. I know, because even this provision of freedom did not leave me a stranger to the virulent realities of life.

Years ago, while fishing in California's high mountains, five hippie predators sought to steal my life. Only when they realized that I was armed and not only willing, but also resolved to kill, did they desist and consider retreat to be the better part of valor.

I do not talk about it very often, because there is no relief in it. For had I been forced to enter into a fire fight that day and had killed, how would I, assuming I had survived, have reconciled the difference between my story and that of the inevitable survivor? The assurance, the certainty, that my own government is the cause for my greatest fears is a heart-rending proposition and leaves no comfort that would normally reinforce what should be a natural euphoria when having put killers to flight. I, your Honor, am a law-abiding citizen of this country, yet it is I who trembles and there seems no end in sight. This, I assure you, was not what the Founding Fathers had in mind.

My father trembled the same tremble, when, with Poland and France having been overrun and rumors of Jewish people being herded into camps began to surface, he made an incautious statement, "how can something like this happen in a country like ours?" He had been overheard and reported. Arrested at work and taken to Gestapo headquarters for interrogation, he managed to give his remark a different meaning than at first had been perceived. But nonetheless, he lost his job and was ordered, even though he now was the father of four, to report for induction into the army just in time to be a participant in operation "Barbarossa".

My wife, also with Gestapo boot prints on her neck, trembles too, fearing that I, dedicated to breaking the empery my government has over my personal affairs, might be given to make an incautious statement. "How can something like this happen in a country like ours?" These then are now the conditions prevailing in our land. You might be prone to disbelieve, but only because you are not attuned to these things as I am who came to these golden shores from terror's shores in search of freedom, not in search of safety and not content to be government's child. But listen, the monster's roar is unmistakable and I recognize it.

The erosion of all my freedoms, under the auspices of presumed comfort and safety, exhibits a precipitous plunge into oblivion. When I first came to this purple promontory between the shining seas, now nearly fifty years ago, I could walk into any sporting good store and ask for one of those, two of theses, and three of the other things and all I needed was the money to match it.

This I can no longer do. Today I must come, hat in hand, and must expect a resounding "NO" and when it is a "YES", it is only a permission encumbered by a host of prior constraints. Fifty years ago I gave permission, now I need permission, now I am on a leash, now I have a saddle on my back and I am not alone.

The fires of discontent are flickering everywhere. There are still legions of those whose fathers called themselves sons of liberty. In their breasts beats still a heart that yearns for the freedom for which to secure our Founding Fathers pledged their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honor. All that is needed is a single spark to foment it into a raging crescendo, which will then consume the nation and spare no one, including those who fanned the fire's roar and did not keep the watch. This is the way history has always wanted it and I grieve because of it.

This, your Honor, is what I had wanted you to understand so that you would know how I, to whom America was a prelude to heaven, feel and how refreshing your ruling was in view of all this. All these my concerns you have by your courageous decision begun to alleviate. You have given me hope that I might someday need my hat no more, that the fires of discontent might flicker no more, that my wife need tremble no more, that both leash and saddle might be no more, and that the monster's roar might be heard no more. You, because of your sense of justice, have restored my dream of seeing the American Republic restored again. You, because of your understanding of our Constitution, have given me cause to trust that the luster of our stars might be seen again, that our wealth might be increased again, that our power might stand again, that the beauty of America's flower might be seen again, that I will reassert my sovereignty again, and that the Constitution might be the honored Supreme Law of our land again.

This, your Honor, is what you have done for me and I am immensely grateful to you. I appeal to heaven that the Majesty of Heaven, the Author of Liberty, will always light you path and make you see the beauty of justice and that you may always relish the assurance of having been just, because our Constitution - a song whose lyrics extol and affirm the freedoms of the American people, the only people on earth ever to have been free - was your guide. I salute you!

In deep gratitude, I remain

Dieter H. Dahmen


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