Memorias de un exnazi

I admired the Germany that Adolf Hitler created. I shaved my hair to scratch and adopted the skinhead aesthetic. I had a huge portrait of Rudolf Hess, the Führer's lieutenant, tattooed on my back. I contributed to the creation of various NS, National Socialist groups. I physically prepared myself for battle, participating in extreme physical training in the mountains of Madrid. Just as quickly as I rose to the top of the organization, I tumbled off a cliff that placed me at the gates of terrorism. One day I began to doubt. I started a process that destroyed my identity. Alcoholism and the barrel of a pistol in his mouth were the sign that he had hit rock bottom. If ten years ago I had been told that I would end up writing this book, I would certainly have thrown myself off a bridge to avoid it. To say that I spent two decades on the extreme right would not reflect what I experienced. It was much more than assuming an ideology. Disguised as political ideology, fanaticism threatens to re-enter our society. It is possible to stop it.