Our cruise ship made a stop in Svolvær, which I assumed would be very crowded because they don’t even have the room to put a space between the “a” and the “e” in their town name, but I didn’t get much of a chance to prove that because a very interesting museum was only a short distance from the ship, and once I entered those doors I was sucked into history like I’d entered a time machine.

On this nondescript street sits an entrance you can easily miss. There’s just a little sign with the word “museum” built into it to give you a clue. I only knew of this place’s existence from the ship’s crew, who offered it up as an idea in a town where the cruise line didn’t otherwise offer any excursions. None of my fellow sailors had the same level of interest I had in the museum, so I meandered over there on my own.

As soon I walked through the door I could see that it wasn’t just another run-of-the-mill museum. Artifacts were piled everywhere, looking more like the inside of a storage shed than a museum presentation. The owner/operator sat quietly behind his desk, reading a book. I realized I was the only customer in the place, so I glanced around quickly to make sure I hadn’t inadvertently walked into some sort of secret Nazi recruitment nest. The owner didn’t say much, but he took my money and waved casually at the collection, inviting me to simply wander around.

I promptly discovered that this was easily the most extensive collection of World War II memorabilia, especially the Nazi kind, that I’d ever encountered. The stockpile is mostly the result of one man’s obsession, and included uniforms galore, as well as bombs, weapons, medals, magazines, Nazi Christmas ornaments, photos, and other miscellany, all chock-a-block in a space that at first seemed small, but actually had numerous rooms in which to explore.

When I came across this drawing of Dopey, I wondered if it was from some sort of propaganda poster poking fun at Hitler. So I asked the taciturn owner/operator about it, and he immediately brightened up and came over to explain.

According to him, these are originals drawn by Hitler. He admitted that the Disney characters couldn’t be verified 100%, but with the “AH” initials on them plus the fact that Adolf apparently had his own copy of Disney’s Snow White, made him feel fairly certain that these were drawn by the Fuhrer. I’m familiar with some of Hitler’s other art, and the house watercolor certainly evokes the other work I’ve seen. Oh, how much less misery might the world have experienced if Hitler had somehow just become an artist instead of a mass murderer? Walt Disney, where were you when we needed you?

Here’s a close up of the initials and the signature. I didn’t want to peer in too closely at them fearing that the stink of evil might somehow permeate my skin. Actually, the truth is that apparently Adolf was, for example, pretty playful around kids. I mean, no person sits stewing in an evil broth 24/7 no matter how disgusting they are. This particular epitome of evil could draw, he liked cartoons, and could even be charming when he wasn’t planning genocide. None of that, of course, in any way makes up for his murderous ways, I’m just saying no one is completely nefarious all of the time. For example, it’s hard to look all tough and evil when you’re eating Fruity Pebbles breakfast cereal, or sitting on the toilet.

I’ll admit that it was a little unnerving to be surrounded by all of those swastikas as well as other artifacts and imagery from such an unfathomably heinous time. But I’m a strong believer in making sure we remember history. As I write this, an increasing number of radical right wing groups are making inroads into more and more countries’ politics. I think some of this happens partly because as WWII fades into history, too many forget how easy it was to convince, for instance, a comparatively well-educated populace in Germany that an ethnic group which made up less than one percent of their populace was not only responsible for their losing WW I, but that the price the group would have to pay for being the target of such misplaced and preposterous blame would be the killing of as many of them as possible, even those from other countries. Why are people so easily manipulated to support and believe this kind of thing? It’s mystifying. It’s madness.

Today, many people can’t even see the hypocrisy of merging extreme right wing nationalism and religious themes like Christmas. In the United States, the same kind of cult of personality that led to Hitler has reared its ugly head as the world looks on in astonishment. I mean, c’mon, the calculus is simple: if hate and disdain is an important part of any ideology, or politician, or your usual source of information, run away! Hatred never leads to anything good, and stopping hate starts with each of us. In fact, I’d love to make this deal with anyone: if you happen to be following or supporting a politician that, for example, refers to any group of other human beings, much less your fellow citizens, as, let’s say, “vermin,” you will agree to support someone else. Deal? Deal. Because remember, the only thing anyone does with vermin is exterminate them.

Okay, sorry, I had to vent. It’s scary out there, especially with things like Putin’s invasion of Ukraine looking an awful lot like what Germany did to start World War II. We need museums like this to remind us what happens when hate takes center stage. I mean, c’mon, 75 million people died due to World War II. That’s like executing every man, woman, or child currently living in the UK, or France (in fact, any country in the world other than the top 20 or so in population), with room left over for an additional six million Jews, Gypsies, homosexuals, and whoever else was different than them. Madness!

After I saw the extent of the collection I approached the proprietor again with some questions. Once he learned that I had a reasonable amount of knowledge about that era, he began to regale me with stories, including one I found a little hard to believe.

According to him, Hitler most likely escaped from Germany by using a combination of body doubles and pre-arranged underground transportation that eventually landed him in Argentina. When I asked him about the fact that Hitler was seriously ill near the end of the war, he claimed that it was all an act, and that he firmly believed Hitler had lived on for quite a few years after 1945.

I listened to the narrative with a major dollop of skepticism. It flies in the face of pretty much every public piece of information out there, all of which point to Hitler’s suicide. But my host had a whole big book that explained in detail how it all might have been pulled off. Obviously, no one can be 100% certain either way, but my new friend was pretty certain about it all, and of course I didn’t feel like arguing with someone who probably knows more about the Nazis than anyone I’ve ever met.

Anyway, as I told him, none of it matters anymore because obviously Hitler is dead now, so whatever time he had after the end of World War II or beyond is now irrelevant. But people from every political spectrum seem to love conspiracy theories. I’m not sure why, since the track record for truth in conspiracy theories is pretty damn dismal. From vaccines carrying tracking devices to stolen elections to flat earthers to holocaust deniers to Hillary sex trafficking children out of the basement of a pizza parlor that had no basement, some people apparently just can’t stop believing in weird shit.

Speaking of which, this photo will probably start a rumor than I’m a skinhead, but I was actually trying to display my disapproval for the image behind me. Somehow it didn’t come out quite as intended.

I’m sorry this entry wasn’t filled with my usual frivolity, but I guess I get a little grumpy when I see humanity continuing to go down roads that lead to such guaranteed misery. We have the proof people, so just stop it! Achtung! Achtung! Avoid those land mines!

Whew! What a downer! But I can still finish this entry up by drawing from my inventory of photos taken from the ship. I know, I know, once you’ve seen one fjord, you buy a Chjevy (there’s my token dad joke at least, courtesy of my oldest son), but at least nature reminds us that no matter how mean and insane some people can get, there’s always beauty somewhere, even in a drawing of a fairy tale character by Adolf Hitler.

(Scroll down to see previous entries.)