I have written literally hundreds upon hundreds of articles in my time, but this one is without comparison the most difficult to produce. I simply cannot put on paper the full weight of the sorrow, grief and immense sensation of loss that I feel today - a day after my best friend and political colleague MARCEL SCHILF died.
Marcel may have been terminally ill and his life did expire in a hospital. But he was still one of our most outstanding casualties of war. Had he, like most Whites, chosen a life of submission, or like most so-called "nationalists", a life of week-end warrior or pen-pusher, my comrade would have been alive and well now. But Marcel had chosen the path of the warrior, sacrificing himself and the "comfort" of a "normal" life, for the sake of our race and the ideals of Blood & Honour.
I have known most of the famous and infamous of nationalists during the last quarter of the 20th century, and I can say for certain that Marcel Schilf was the biggest innovator of our Movement and our times. He created the first active video division within the Movement - NS88 (later incorporating the magnificent talents of video artist Jäsä), as well as its most radical record company - NS Records. He also established the famous Club Valhalla, its successor Club 28 and the famous Festung Ljungbyhed in Klippan. And he was the co-founder of Blood & Honour Scandinavia,
Marcel Schilf instigated and/or organized countless marches, demos and concerts - while his frail body turned weaker and weaker through every spectacular show of White Pride. Never did he let personal considerations stop him from performing what he saw as his duty. All his time, energy and personal income was spent on the many projects he was involved in, while he lived literally on the road or in bunker like conditions of war.
Schilf was feared by our enemy and hated by the enemy within. Reds and Zionists, journalists and political police, pop parasites and profiteers - they all tried to bring him down. In the end, the work strain, the harassment, the political kangaroo courts and the constant stress, brought him to the hospital bed and eventually drained his lifeblood. But though he has now passed on to the warriors´ halls of Asgard, his spirit lives on down here, both guiding and inspiring us to continue the battle, whatever it takes.
Marcel, you were one of the frailest and smallest of figures I have encountered, but you were certainly the biggest fighter I have ever had the honour of calling my friend.
My thoughts - shared by his many, many friends and comrades all over the White world - go to his loving wife Sandi, who stood by him in all and everything, and to his family in Germany and Denmark who have paid the price of sharing the family name with one of Europe's all-time bravehearts.
Marcel, you are forever in my heart and as a shining beacon of inspiration in my eyes, which today are filled with tears of sadness and loss.
Hail you, buddy!