Please allow me to introduce myself Mar 26, 2015 23:10:44 GMT -5
Post by sisley on Mar 26, 2015 23:10:44 GMT -5
Thank-you for allowing me to join your group, and please allow me to introduce myself.
My psychic handle “Sisley” is the name of a PL Parisian artist that I was in Jules Verne’s era. However I am here to address what I deciphered as being a W.W.II incarnation that first began as a place with cars that looked somewhat like those in the movie Scarface, among them a 3 headlight model that I traced to the Tatra 77, en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tatra_77
And then it became a hellish war torn place, and then ended by asphyxiation in a fire in the winter of 1944 / 45 at the age of about 16.
The dreams and visions paint a picture of what looked to be a very “on-the-move” individual as if living as a refugee. There have been a lot of violent actions (including killing men in Nazi uniforms) suggesting being in a resistance faction.
The place of birth appears to in southern Germany in a German Jewish family. I had the name Biberach come up but there has also been what looked to be Bavarian flags.
Another revelation came when my present-day mother had a PL regression. It was revealed she had reincarnated immediately after passing away on a Nazi operating table as a guinea pig. If such a time gap is physically countable, then her birth date (1938) landed on an historic time post. Her place of death would have been Dachau, just before the Anschluss.
1938 is when Hitler’s regime began rounding up its own internal population of the Jewish faith. I would have been about 10 at the time and among those who slipped the dragnet and lived much of the time after as a refugee who changed residences a lot. Such was life in the underground network.
There was no time for a goodbye kiss from Mother when we fled. Men in the uniforms and chamber pot helmets had beaten down our front door. From that point on, it was survival and my oath to avenge my mother. They dragged unceremoniously down the sidewalk and then tossed her like a big rag doll into a waiting truck with that tarp arched over the box. Each side was guarded by a soldier, their machine guns on the ready. Mother’s screams had their own subliminal code: I was now an orphan.
I traced the latter stages of that life to be with what looks like a faction of the Belgian Resistance. A vindictive orphaned German Jew must have been considered a pretty good asset for the Groupe. The Belgian Resistance was the most violent anti-Nazi resistance organization. If any of you here know about the Belgian Resistance, I welcome your input. And yes, there was an awful lot of train wrecks and big fires.
I also traced what looked to be the Belgian Resistance’s espionage missions that extended all the way to Normandy just after the Allies breached the shore defenses. I was no more than a street’s width away when Wilhelm Mohnke slaughtered those 3 Canadian soldiers and then kick-shoved them into that bomb crater. I traced the date to July 11, 1944.
We infiltrated the Hitlerjugen 12th SS with stolen uniforms and ID’s. Josef Mengele would have squirmed on seeing what I did to live-captured Hitlerjugen that we lured into our traps in the heat of battle, whom we interrogated, tortured, and killed. In a vindictive gesture, I held to my word as I would have sworn over my mother’s ashes back in Dachau.
It was in a bombing raid that out hideout got hit, crumbled down, and lit up. Outside, everything was lit up. Everything was on fire…
Looking forward to discussing more and sharing our experiences.