Bolesław Chrobry – 1938
The most renowned foe of the Christianizing Germans who, like Russia today with her new religion, Communism, were using the pretext of Christendom to exterminate Humanity that would not be conquered by their ideological bait; a method always used by the world-parasites for the entrapment of unweary nations.
Chrobry was the ruler of a powerful Poland, whose port city Wolin — according to early German chroniclers — was the greatest metropolis of Europe.
He was an uncle of Kanut the Great, who conquered Britain. His sister married Gorm the Old of Denmark and was so nobly wise that the grateful Danes sainted her, calling her their Danebot, the Civilizer of Danes.
She had three sons, Kanut, Harold Bluetooth and Pentatoki. Bluetooth Christianized Norway and Denmark and repeatedly attempted to take Europe s 10th century metropolis, Wolin. He finally succeeded and renamed it Yomsborg which, after resegmentation of the name, reads Jo m Z Borg or I’m From the City in Polish. Soon he lost the city to the Poles. When he regained it later, Bluetooth ordered it completely destroyed and even the foundations dismounted and thrown into the sea. Like a true Christianizer, as the later Spaniards did to the Aztecs in ancient Mexico and the Incas in Peru, he came to destroy the most ancient city and Civilization.
Naturally, no portraits of the heroic Boleslaw Chrobry exist. But on one of his talisman coins I found a crude presentation of his likeness. So, taking a hint as to the type of man he was, I improvised his portrait in this sculpture. To make it seem more authentic, I gave him a sword cut across his chin and mouth. The horizontal strap under his chin holds his helmet which rests on his back.
Though Governor Grażyński, who in an armed uprising had taken Poland’s old territory back from Germany, commissioned me to do this monument for Katowice. I had to go elsewhere to find a hall large enough to make the three-and-a-half stories high sculpture. At last I found one in the Warsaw Polytechnic. However, the animosity of the Polish intellectuals because I was an American Pole with greater talents than any artist in my former Motherland was so virulent that, after secretly being informed that I would not be able to finish the work there, I rented a former brick factory, where the colossal statue was erected in clay on a steel rail armature, with the assistance of two Italian enlargers, which was kept secret from the hostile compatriots.
When the Germans besieged Warsaw, a bomb shattered this building, the ceiling fell on the clay statue and I was trapped under the debris. Fortunately the girders held the weight diagonally and I was unharmed, though the dust of crushed bricks nearly suffocated me. I remained under the rubble for some forty hours, before investigating people freed me.
The model sculpture is hidden away in Poland, awaiting my death, when it will be brought to light to show the foreign visitors how Cultured the Polish parasites are.