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The Hitlerist Battle Songs.

The Central Union of German Citizens of Jewish Faith has, in order to draw attention to the mentality prevailing among the Hitlerist youth on the subject of the Jews and to show the kind of treatment Jews are likely to receive at the hands of these “champions of Germany’s coming Government Party”, handed the J.T.A. here the text of three of the battle songs of the Hitlerist youth, which are sung on all their marches. In English translation they run as follows:

WE ARE THE STORM BRIGADE.

We are the Storm Brigade! And up and down we go, Of nobody afraid; The first to deal the blow. Our faces sweat with toil, Our bellies faint for food, Hands gnarled with bench and soil, Grasp weapons keen for blood.

We are the Storm Brigade! The class-war fighters, we. In Jewish blood we’ll wade, And then we shall be free. Leave words, which are no use, Let Adolf Hitler lead! Come, Let us smash the Jews! And then we shall be freed!

Our Adolf Hitler leads. Come march into the fray. No words now – only deeds. Revolution starts to-day! On to the barricade! Only death can conquer now. We are the Storm Brigade!

We are the Storm Brigade! Revolver in our hand, At our side, a hand-grenade. We march on German land. The Jew is terrified. He opens his money-bags wide, But Adolf Hitler will Square his account with a kill.

SHOOT THE JEW-DOGS!

Do you know the peasants, Hitler’s marching host? Soon the night will vanish. To freedom! is the toast.

Load your guns with powder; Load them up with lead. Down with the Jewish tyrants! Shoot the Jew-dogs dead!

DRIPPING WITH JEWISH BLOOD.

Storm Brigaders, young and old, Take your weapons in your hand, For the Jews have settled terribly, In our German Fatherland.

There was once a young storm soldier. Fate had marked him out for this – To leave his wife and children, And march without a farewell kiss.

The old women set up a howling, And the young girls shed bitter tears. Farewell, my love, my precious, Farewell, farewell, my dears.

But when the storm soldier goes into the fray, He feels it is ever so good, To see his sword thrust and slay, And dripping with Jewish blood.

5.110 cartridges in the belt; And the gun is loaded, too; And the hand grenade is ready in the fist. Come here, you Bolshevik Jew!

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