(14) THE IGNITER--THE TRUTH-THE WHOLE TRUTH AND NOTHING BUT COVERUPS!

I am confident that after thirteen chapters of a strong foundation of relevant information about me, I can continue my true story, "IGNITER" Nazi's hidden among us.

If you have been keeping up, chapter to chapter than you understand the spiritual side to my story. Now I would like to introduce to you the physical-earthly-rational-logical side of my story.

Some of you may have overlooked much of this, due to the word God used too many times...and others are just non-believers of everything that is of truth. As I stated on my profile,"You can believe or not believe, free will is always your choice."

"The truth is more bizarre than any lie I could make up about this story!" Another of my favorite lines..."It is NOT a conspiracy if it is the TRUTH!"

Twig and I spent much time together when he arrived at my house and we talked often about a million topics. During our talks one evening, we seemed to have shared an unknown commonality-we are both ex-military enlisted-different forces.

We both agreed that we loved our American soldiers but that we didn't trust the government any longer due to our own personal experiences. I shared my story briefly-of the horrible things that I had experienced and seen...the corruption..the lies and the hatred for free thinkers and 'truth sayers' such as myself.

As we continued to converse, we realized that we were both in the service when the Beirut attack happened, killing so many of our men; I was in basic training/bootcamp and Twig was stationed in Virginia.

Suicide bomber killed 241 American troops in barracks
October 23, 2008

Former Navy journalist Joe Ciokon of Poway was sleeping next door to the Marine barracks in Beirut, Lebanon, that were hit by a suicide bomber. After scrambling to locate survivors, he was ordered to take up his camera and record the scene.

A suicide bomber steered a truck loaded with the equivalent of six tons of TNT down the airport road in Beirut, Lebanon. He plowed into the four-story barracks where more than 300 U.S. troops from a U.N. peacekeeping mission slept and detonated what the FBI called the largest non-nuclear bomb in history. The explosion and fireball pulverized the concrete fortress, killing 241 U.S. service members, most of them Marines. A second blast minutes later at the compound of the French peacekeeping force killed 58 more Western troops. Three months later, President Ronald Reagan pulled the Americans out of Beirut.

Twig and I sat conversing about this attack when Twig's voice sounded strange. I believe it sounded like a man who was trying not to cry.

"I want to show you something," he said, pulling up the back of his Harley shirt.

I stared at his lower back which was dented in and chunks and pieces of his flesh were now missing but healed. "What the heck happened?" I inquired stunned by what i had just seen. "Something exploded-I got shot-I didn't even know I was hit at the time till I seen the blood-lots of blood."

"What the heck were you doing in Virginia that would have gotten you shot?" I asked amazed at what he was telling me.

"I wasn't in Virgina-I was in Beirut. They woke us up one night-quite a long while after this attack happened and we got flown over to Beirut. I did the collecting of people on lists." Twig sat quietly and I heard him gulping back tears. He ended this specific conversation that evening saying,

"If you look in my miltary file-it will show that I have never been out of Virginia."

Was I surprised? No. I have seen it all- so nothing surprises me any more, not even this situation with a Nazi. I keep hearing these words-Transparency to the United States Citizens and I am laughing my buttocks off!

Come on people wake up! Ring ring! Ding Dong. Truth is calling! Pick up! Pick up! Pick up!

Later in many other conversations with Twig, I surely understood why he didn't feel worthy of God and why he felt that God would not forgive him. I realized after listening to his many of his stories of violent bloody aftermaths that my poor, sweet Twig had much more crosses and burdens to carry than I was fully aware of.

Anyone who thinks that these things don't happen...well welcome to the real world..the world of lies...where everything is an illusion...everything is meant to look just the way it should for you to behold...but if you pull back the magical curtain and take off the rose-colored glasses you may see the truth...if only for that second.

Often many of you may be too frightened by what you see and you will snatch those glasses back up and super glue them to your face.

I am far from stupid, far from crazy and though I have a strong spiritual foundation to rest my soul on-I see reality, know reality and I understand truth in FULL TECHNICOLOR-no rose colored glasses for me.

Yes my friends, these things that I speak of occur more often than you would like to believe-all over the world. I am not shocked in any sense of the word.

I am well aware by this time in my life, that any incident that anyone in high power wants to hide, conceal, surpress will happen and there is nothing much you can do about it. These type of people have the gene-pool split of Houdini-Santa Claus and Charles Manson and there is nothing much you can do about that either!

Why not?

Because they can authenticate anything they want, passports, fake identifications, death certificates, fingerprints-military records-they can make new records (pretend ones)-bleaching out old records and add new facts to old records- they can call in fake tips and produce fake suitcases stuffed with really old original documents-Voila!

If they are really good-as they are-they can produce things, seemingly out of nowhere..they can make this happen at anytime and have the money-big money to buy BIG favors, from the higher ups and to the lower level-those who can only wish to be 'higher up.'

They are also able to manipulate very easily those who are financially broke--as well as spiritually broke. When all else fails-they may even have a way of changing executive orders-so that even INTERPOL doesn't have to answer to anyone. (Kind of like the Federal Reserve)

They have the ability to do all of these things to cover up the truth and who? Who is able to stand up to them? Discredit them?

What did you say you have that can discredit these things you accuse us of? You have the truth? You have ONLY the truth to offer? Just the truth? I am sorry but the truth is not enough to win against The Houdini-Santa Claus-Charles Mansion scary fairy dust!

Insert their evil laugh and uncontollable giggling here -----> ________

Sorry BUT you and the truth are screwed!

They have now wiped your background clean and given you a new name, a new age, a new life, a new wife, a social security number and they may even throw in some fun stuff about you just for shit's and giggles. Wowie! You mean I can pretend I am a fighter in the military now? You mean I can make up attention getting military stories that never happened?

"Come on over, we got booze, we got women...I got hit by bullets exploding into my arm and chest" (But remember that if you allow Houdini, Santa Claus and Charles Manson to save you with their scary-fairy dust, you must always remember your hogwash stories and please stay consistent and please do not show your arm and chest that bare no scars of your fabulous stories or people such as I won't believe you.)

You say I can pretend to be a pilot also? I can be an Engineer also? And if I have infamous scars that may identify me, I can be wowed with a backwoods surgery and many shots of silicone or collagen into my nose-and chin, just enough to alter that "most wanted aged enhanced photograph of me?!"

Whhhhhooooooooooo Whhhhoooooooooooooo! Sign me up!

The quickest and most effective thing that they seem to do-when too many people start to speak out about the truth- to rule out any type of suspicion on themselves- They scream FIRE and point their bony-wicked-evil finger to another place. While you are running for the extinguisher; they are busy erasing, shredding and getting their ducks in a row.

To think that someone may have entertained the audacity to speak up about the truth? They quickly yell "Crazy-delusional-bipolar-antisocial-psychotic" and most of the uniformed people-the millions who are medicated with -prozac-thorazine-anti-depressants and God knows what else- will just look away from their television for that sheer second and say, "uh hum. Dat person is crazy and then go back to the boob-tube to watch dancing with the stars."

Yes, I must tell you-I am crazy-crazy like a fox. (What does this term 'Crazy like a fox' mean?)

This terminology implies the very opposite. The individual refered to is not crazy at all, rather cunning (like a fox). Used when one appears to be 'crazy', but is acting with a hidden motive, in a cunning way.

Thus the reason for my story. "Crazy like a fox" seems fitting. How long will you surpress this information and the attempt I make to inform the people? I often wonder how long it will take before you are able to discontinue my story-ban it-swipe it clean-as you have with my computer documents.

This happened quite by accident. Twig and I were conversing about dating and marriage when he said that the landlord and his wife were celebrating their 50th Anniversary soon.

I had corrected him, as I am known to do time to time (chuckle) and replied back, no you are mistaken..he said 41 years. Twig and I argued back and forth as if we were the married couple and then I realized that something was not quite right.

"How do they not know how long they have been married? How weird is that?"

He mentioned that he got married to his wife in 1964. He later mentioned to me that he was having a 41 year anniversary and then told Twig that he was having a 50 year anniversary! He apparently can't keep his stories straight...or is demencia kicking in?

When I sat with them together, I bodly asked them, "How many years did you celebrate?" They both answered 45 yrs. Well apparently they can agree on something while they are together right?

They seem to both be confused on how long they have lived here in Montana and completely confused on their Birthplaces also, because after what they told me and I did a data base check, strangely neither were correct. Ironically, I found almost 20 alias's used for him--many variations of his name...all going straight to this apartment. Interesting.

Within one of those names he used-there was that very same Nazi's name hidden inside. ARIBERT HEIMkamp--Coincidence? NOPE! I gasped and showed it to Twig and we both witnessed it. Later, when I returned back to retrieve it for documentation purposes-it had completely disappeared. (The houdini-santa claus-charles manson scary fairy dust at work again)

"They kept his name very similar....instead of being called Aribert...someone has given him the name Bert...that way he can at least remember his own name--because Jesus knows that he can't stay consistent on anything else about his personal life that they have written for him"

Ironically, she uses two middle initials, he uses five that I have seen. How often do you change your middle initial? I have never changed mine. Why would you change it, especially five different times?

During my research I was slapped in the head with a strong thought. "How can these people of such an old age have no history?" It just seemed unfeasible to me. By eighty-ninety years old, there has to be some type of records, especially on the internet of archives...None of his military name...nothing...it was as if they dropped off the Earth after thirty or so years ago and very little to even show the past recent thirty years. What did these people have? They had a few phone numbers.

These phone numbers were of places that they had not said they lived? "Strange, " I thought, continuing my research. (Only but a few months ago do I see that they have added some web sites which were not there before. I am not surprised. Ducks in a row. Ducks in a row.)

I went to their apartment and sat at their table a few days later. As I pulled my glasses down onto my face so that I could read the label on his medicine.

"What name is he using now?" Okey dokey...I got it.

Twig and I eventually returned back to Billings, Montana, after picking up my vehicle in Las Vegas and making another drive back. I turned the key, delighted to be home and entered my new apartment! My happiness lasted five seconds when I looked over at the other door and realized that it was unlocked;both top and bottom lock were open.

"You got to be kidding me!" I yelled. All of my private paperwork, belongings, checkbooks-anything could have been stolen!" I looked around and realized that everything had been gone through-rummaged through. I was good and plenty mad and I was too tired to see what or if anything was missing. A knock on the door stopped my tantrum.

It was the sweet old man, inquiring if we needed anything. I tried to be most pleasant, gritting my teeth as I said, "The back door locks were both left open and I know I locked them when I left two weeks ago. Someone who has keys was in here."

My anger did not affect him in the least, in fact he acted as if he could care less.

"Oh, it was us. I am the only one with keys. We just came down a few minutes ago to make sure the heat and everything were running for you. You don't have to worry about locking doors, it's safe here-it's not Las Vegas and please don't lock the bottom locks-no need for it-you got strong upper deadbolts anyways."

I just stared at him in silent disbelief. Don't lock the bottom lock on the two doors? I was a bit aggravated with his careless and carefree attitude about my items and my privacy. I was not mistaken when I say that all of my private belongings had been rummaged through. I was a bit disappointed with him now, acknowledging that it had to have been him.

I was not happy about this deduction but I said nothing to him. I didn't want to hurt the feelings of a very old man who was probably just protecting himself and his wife from strangers. I closed the door and snapped the locks loudly behind him and locked both doors, top to bottom, each and every time I left the home, regardless of 'his' wishes.

Who the hell in there right mind tells you not to bother locking the bottom locks on a door?" I barked at Twig. "Yeah, that was kind of weird and it was probably him that went through your things." I agreed with Twig and I desperately tried to find a reason for it.

"Well, I am from Las Vegas and you look like a convict and he never had me fill out an application-or rental policy or background check," I rattled off in one breath. "Okay, he is very old and it must be scary living in a world like this now a days... Maybe he looked through my things to make sure I was 'who I said I was.'

I accepted that this nice old man possibly may have gone through my items due to fear- nothing more-nothing less and I let it go....Until the doors kept being left unlocked when I returned home for the next four months-someone was continually letting themselves inside our apartment-It never ended.

Only a few days later, Twig and I arrived home to find the door unlocked again! I was confused, angry and I felt violated. I had marched back to my bedroom closet to put some money back into my stash, hidden in a brand new tiny purse from Las Vegas. I was stunned when I pulled it down from the closet.

The liner was ripped out of the purse and pushed back in. One of the sides was actually flipped over and tucked down, they never even bothered to straighten it up. My wad of $400.00 in bills was still there in the tiny pocket. There is no way that anyone could have missed this. The blood drained from my face, as I stepped out into the living room to show Twig.

"Who the hell is doing this? They bypass an expensive computer, $400.00 in cash, my flatscreen television? I don't get it? This is no meth or drug head doing this! Someone is looking for something but what? I quietly asked Twig if there was anything that he neglected to tell me, as the warrant seemed to have slipped his mind.

"Are you in any type of trouble that I am not aware of? Drugs? Anything involving the Government?" Twig said no and I believed him.

"Who and why is this happening and what are they looking for?"

I took the money roll out of the purse, leaving it behind. I knocked at the old man's apartment and was let inside.

"Someone has keys to my apartment and I want the door locks changed," I said adamently.

I never mentioned the doors being unlocked that day. I hadn't even gotten to it, showing them my purse and how it had been destroyed. Neither of them inquired about my doors either. They both just giggled and he said,

"Oh Ghost Whisper that's just dryness that did this to your purse, no need for the locks to be changed."

As I sat there staring- thinking about being in Las Vegas, the desert dry air -this did not do this to my purse! Dryness ripped out the liner and tucked it down inside the purse wrong way also? They were still giggling and I was confused. He began to talk again and I heard something say,

"He is lying! He is lying!" I was startled by this voice.

I pretended as if I was just a silly girl and I apologized for bothering them, leaving and pulling their door shut.

"Bullshit Twig. This is bullshit." I am telling you something, I heard it with my own ears, it was not my imagination!" After spending all these months with me and hearing and seeing these wild things, he knew that I was telling the truth.

"No way did dryness do that to your freaking purse anyways-they are lying about that!" Twig shook his head in disbelief. Yes, yes my friends, be warned that Billings, Montana weather will rip apart your belongings and even leave the doors unlocked, so many times that you can not count any longer.

That evening when I went to my bed to get my pillows, brand new pillows from Las Vegas....they were not brand new any longer. They were slit from the end seam and it looked as if someone had ran there hand and arm deep inside the stuffing.

"Why does he keep coming into my apartment and what is he looking for?" I asked myself this question over and over throughout our stay --it just never ended. "I am the only one with the keys" he had stated confidently, with no whim in changing my locks. "What is he looking for?"

I never said another word to him about it but from that day forward I began to watch him in a different light. He apparently was not the "sweet old man" that I had originally thought him to be.

"I don't understand this Twig? What is he looking for? I am sick of our home being violated and I am nothing but a darn waitress and bartender-so what the heck is he looking for?"

On a few occasions my bottom door handle was slowly turned in the middle of the night, the bottom door handle, the one I was told not to lock. I slowly looked over at the door the one evening, the lights were on dim and the television was off. I watched it turn back and forth three times before I heard light footsteps.

I never heard the back outside door shut and it was noticably loud when someone left. I knew who had turned that handle that night, just as I knew who turned it the night that Twig heard it.

We were both there inside that evening at 3:30 am, Twig in his bedroom sleeping already and I was on the couch awake. I had never once slept in my bedroom--always on the couch--I was uncomfortable about the place from the very beginning...and once I saw that old Nazi picture..there was no way I was sleeping in there. I always made sure that I was outside in the living room with both doors in my view. Sounds paranoid? Not really.

After I started reading about this particular war criminal and what ghastly things he did to so many people, I preferred to sleep on the couch. I had a strong feeling that he was aware that I knew who he was...this doesn't make for a happy person who has been trying to elude the law for quite a many years, to have some girl know his secret. He knew I slept on the couch and it became an issue to both him and his wife of why I sleep on the couch and not in my bedroom. It made me nervous that they constantly brought it up. Just for that reason, I slept on the couch just to be safe.

Throughout the entire stay at this home, I bought and returned locks, over and over and over. No door lock that I ever bought would fit inside these doors. I was so aggravated over this. I knew it was him coming in and I thought that he would get the idea, when he tried his key and he could not get inside any longer.

This never happened. Walmart must have cursed me due to the many times that I bought locks and returned them. Home Depot on King Avenue probably wondered why I looked like I was going to cry about not finding a lock.

.

THE IGNITER-Nazi's hidden among us

I am writing a 'series' on my true story " IGNITER" Nazi's hidden among us.

Many of you who are reading this HUB may be quite confused-this is why I have numbered the stories on my HUBS front page profile. Start from the beginning and read chapter to chapter. It will allow you an understanding-a basic foundation of me-my life-my spiritual experiences-God--demons--the devil-which will allow you to grasp the full profound meaning of my story and how all of this happened--and most importantly you will see the power of Jesus and God the Father!

Due to many, many things involved in this story, Politics-corruption-Nazi's and of course ...good versus evil...you will see my series in many categories. I am not quite sure where to put them due to so many variants. I will scatter them as if they are leaves on a windy day-hoping that the very lucky will get a chance to view "History in the making" and above all..to witness God's justice...prophetic and a warning to all who have not called upon Jesus as Messiah.

May God bless you!