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Laurence Inman’s Blog



So you think the Diana inquest finally put paid to some of Mohammed Al Fayed’s more fanciful theories? Not a bit of it. Laurence Inman knows the Harrods boss was right. He also has the inside gen on the Kennedy assassination, the sinking of the Titanic …and Adolf Hitler’s secret life as a milkman.

This week, along with many other leading journalists from around the world, I have found myself ensconced in a very posh hotel overlooking London’s fashionable Hyde Park, all expenses paid.

None of us has the slightest idea who our benefactor may be. All information comes to us in plain brown envelopes secreted in copies of The Kensington Shopkeeper, a local trade rag.

I am now being made privy to certain startling items of information concerning a senior member of the Royal Family, Prince Philip of Edinburgh.

Did you know, for instance, that his real name is Prinz Otto von Nazi Golgotha of Macedonia ? That he has droves of children, many of them illegitimate, dotted around in scions of other royal families all over Europe?

That he was personally responsible for many of the most widespread deceptions and bloody enormities of the last century?

For instance, does the name Alf Throiled mean anything to you ? I’d be very surprised if it did. Alf lived out the last forty years of his life as a part-time milkman in Liverpool, but he was none other than Adolf Hitler, the man responsible for the Second World War.

It has always been thought that he died in the ruins of Berlin in 1945. No. He was spirited away by the then Lieutenant Mountbatten in a daring rescue operation and placed in a safe house in Toxteth, to await the rise of the Fourth Reich.

To the man who could pull off something like that, the murder of Princess Di and the subsequent cover-up, the bribing of juries and senior judges, the suborning of Prime Ministers, is a piece of cake. (On the matter of cake, see more later.)

In 1963 he arranged the assassination of President Kennedy. Forget about Lee Harvey Oswald, the grassy knoll, the mysterious men in shiny shoes in the railway marshalling yards behind Deeley Plaza. The fact is, Kennedy was not even shot!

A tiny bomb, cunningly hidden in a piece of marzipan-coated confectionery which had been given to him half an hour previously, exploded just as a ‘car back-firing’ was heard in a neighbouring street.

All this because he thought Kennedy gave his wife, our Queen, ‘a funny look’ over dinner at a state banquet the year before!

The moon landings ? Never happened. If you listen hard to ‘Neil Armstrong’ muttering his famous words, you can just hear the chimes of an ice-cream van in the background.

It used to be thought they were playing the Harry Lime theme; they were in fact playing ‘The Battenburg Waltz’ a long-forgotten Viennese dance tune. The van was being driven round the back of Shepperton Studios by one Stan Sophelij, better known of course as Joseph Stalin. And who owned the van ? I’ll give you one guess.

Perhaps the worst atrocity can be laid at the door of Otto’s great uncle, Prinz Battenburg of Cake.

He sank The Titanic, no less.

Throughout 1910 and well into 1911 the Battenburgs were trying to persuade the White Star Line to stock the family’s well-known brand of four-cornered marzipan-coated cakes, but they were to be disappointed – the great ship sailed in 1912 carrying only Wimbush’s selected fancies.

Battenburg was furious and ordered The Titanic to be torpedoed on its maiden voyage. He personally took charge of the operation in his own private submarine. Not one surviving witness mentioned any ‘iceberg,’ which, it was put around afterwards, had simply drifted south and ‘melted.’

As if!

Since 1912, every large ocean-going liner has carried a plentiful supply of Battenburg cake.

Even now, the toast of ‘bottoms up!’ at royal knees-ups in their various homes round the country has a special significance known only to them.

Until now, that is.

It is time for all right-thinking people to ask themselves: do we really want these monsters to be in charge of things for a minute longer?

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