My Birth Part 3

The easiest way to keep me quiet and calm was to talk to me, so he said:

‘How about this heat….

It’s hot, it so fucking hot here (ooh, I shouldn't swear), unbelievably hot. The

The easiest way for my Great-Grandfather Kaiser Adolf Hitler the Hohenzollern to keep me quiet, and not draw the attention of the man who drowned me to the storage cupboard he was hiding me in, was to talk to me.

So, after going through some memories for something common to my situation to talk to me about, he said:

“How about this heat….

It’s hot, it so fucking hot here (ooh, I shouldn't swear), unbelievably hot. The hottest day I can remember in Germany was when I had to make a speech at the Olympic Stadium in Berlin. There were tens of thousands of people there, and it was really hot and humid that day. Everyone was fanning themselves and sweating. There was that weird sticky sweet sweating mass of people smell. But not like this, it’s so hot here.

I had to make a speech and was led out to a platform to speak by a person who had a weird, forced smile with one hand stuck out, nodding me on. Waving their hand to lead me forward.

As I walked forward and noticed the crowd, I started to hear this electric buzzing noise like mini thunder and earthing and got a strong smell of electricity and static.

When I looked forward there was a microphone for me to speak into and I could smell the electricity, and hear it going “buzz, fts, buzz-razz, fts, buzz” like that. So, I looked closely, and there seemed to be a puddle of water under the microphone stand.

And a hand leading me on nodding with a forced smile.

The smell of the microphone was so strong it overpowered the sweaty people smell, so I decided to stop 3 meters back from the microphone, and just raise my voice and yell a bit and hope it picked it up.

Didn’t know how loud it was at the time or whether it picked up my voice okay for people to hear.

Later on, they pretended I went psycho and started spitting hatred vitriol about people, like other homosexuals, or Jews or something, to make me look like a weird, aggravated psycho.

Obviously.’

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He, Kaiser Adolf, was 82, and still bizarrely muscular.

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I had not been washed since my birth before sunrise, and I was laying in what turned out to be 100-degree heat until after lunch, over 7 hours, and was extremely smelly. Baked on birth grunge. Kaiser Adolf was the first person to touch me with any kind of normal human response after my father Kevin left the hospital just after early sunrise.

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I still have finger marks in my chest that now match my own fingers, that are almost exactly the same as his, from where he performed CPR on me. My ribs have developed over them a little, but they are still there, and strangely comforting.

A very small prelude to what became a full private family personal and Imperial history over the next 10+ years, censored slightly, but almost brutally impressively honest contextually for the recipient, with anecdotes, reassurances I would be safe, and rebuffs of what excuses my mother started yelling later, was what followed.

Including responses to some pathetic sounding excuse things she said by Kaiser Adolf 1, that included “don’t listen to her, she’s …… (struggled for a word like insane). There’s nothing wrong with having red hair. Your hair’s beautiful. It’s fine, don’t listen to her”.

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Ironically enough, she kept yelling the same things she had been yelling before Kaiser Adolf 1 arrived, over and over, after he arrived, and that just happened to be all the information he needed to know to determine that I would be the only biological child at home after I was registered. She even yelled “Why, I just want to know why that prick Fritz shot my grandmother Eva in that bunker in 1945 (in Berlin), WHY? Why did he do it?” at intervals over and over whilst Kaiser Adolf 1 was holding me up against his chest, as she had done all morning.

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The handyman "Mr. B", was my deceased father Kevin Webb’s stolen triplet brother.

Stolen at birth from St Kilda in Melbourne on 24 June 1930 off my indigenous Gippsland Grandmother Myrtle Webb and my Grandfather James Webb. I had been struggling to work out who the other triplet was, after making an educated guess about one of them for decades. They met in Italy in around 1962. I look like a hybrid, with extra bits, of Kaiser Adolf 1 and his handy mechanic "Mr. B" in some ways. Amazed I figured that out in the end in 2019. How was I supposed to work that out? 

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If they had not have stopped to fix the flat tyre for the people in distress near the cattle yards, who were making their getaway with my two younger triplet siblings, unknown to Kaiser Adolf 1, at an annoyingly low yet terrifying for the drug affected speed, I would not have been drowned when he got there. Everyone was just so freaking actually or fatuously helpful to everyone else that day in some ways it was weird. All is well that ends up alive, I guess.

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My saviour Adolf Hitler. He was beautiful.

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The grunting thing started panicking, trying to talk to my gurgling mother, saying they had to be out of the hospital before the next shift of staff arrived, as they would be real hospital staff. After a bit of a consult in a half a brain panic, they tried to find Kaiser Adolf with a “did you see where that old man went with that baby?”. They were trying to focus on something to get themselves on track to somewhere. They had a quick look around, then decided to just leave my mother then and split from the hospital as fast as possible. Went downstairs, got in their car, and left.

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Kaiser Adolf, my Great-Grandpa, became more upbeat after they left and we emerged from the, cupboard, I guess. He was quite chirpy. Started talking to me out loud more (as well as a flow of personal & Imperial history not out loud) and decided to try to clean me up.

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He had a go at washing me, starting with trying to wipe the goop off my face. Then looked at my hair and had a quick wipe at it with a wet cloth or towel, to see if the goop would come off easily. It glued my little newborn hairs down to my head like his iconic old haircut from the thirties and forties. He paused, pulled a face, then gently squiggled my hair with his fingers down my forehead and said the word “Fredereich”.

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He tried his best to wash me in a basic way. Talking to me the whole time with the odd tiny giggle. Even threw some baby or talcum powder on me to try to help with the smell. Which by then had migrated to him. And then tried to wrap me up. He had several goes which either fell off or were not great, until he managed to secure me in a wrap of sorts. He then held me up and said “oh, you must be hungry”.

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He then decided to head towards my mother. His motivation was clear, he wanted to have a stern chat with her about her behaviour, attitude, yelling and involvements. He walked towards her holding me safely. He stopped in front of her, a contempt distance away. She was still trying to yell, but just making screeching squeaking gurgling noises. He then, very sarcastically said “Would you like to breast feed your baby Mrs. Webb.”

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She took a deep, long, snotty, slobbering intake of breath with her head oscillating from side to side, and screamed as loud as she could manage, “No, I’m not breast feeding it!”. Then flaked it totally and fainted to sleep absolutely exhausted, with a slightly fake sounding snore coming shortly afterwards. I think he mumbled “and no, I don’t have a gun either….”.

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He decided to hang around and wait until the next shift of hospital staff came in for the afternoon shift. I was absolutely totalled. I had been laying there, basically waiting for them to kill me for no reason since my father left the hospital around 6AM am with no sleep. I thought “if I fall asleep, where will you go?”. Kaiser Adolf replied, out loud, “I’ll be around for a while”. And I snooze dozed through the rest of the day, not really missing anything, but needing to only focus on one person.

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When the next shift of hospital staff arrived, he tried to politely and patiently explain my mother was a freaking lunatic. In the end he gave up on the pleasantries and careful language and just told them she is a (freaking) lunatic, in a more relaxed tone. Some of what she had been yelling, etcetera, and that they should be really careful. The hospital staff took over and he followed them around, butting in, making suggestions. He made sure they washed every part of me, every nook and cranny, more than once. My ears, toes, fingers, nails, hair repeatedly. They weighed me, measured me. He insisted on more measurements. Ankle, Hip and Skull circumference. Length of big Toe. Length of Elbow to Wrist bone. Noting it down in his notebook. He then stopped, did some calculations with the numbers, scribbling in his note pad, and wrote a final figure, saying “there, he’ll be around 6 Feet 2”. He supervised it all in some way, including me being wrapped up and clothed a little.

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The natural normal course of events for the hospital staff was to move on to filling in the registration documents. So, after a chat they decided to try to wake my mother up, carefully, and ask her if she knew any details. 

 

Someone went over to her and made like they stood back and poked her with a stick. Saying “Hello there Mrs. Webb, we have registration documents, for your baby, to fill in.”

She said, exhausted, “oh Okay”.

The staff member asked, “Do you know what your baby’s name is going to be?”.

She said, after a pause, “Oh yeah, Brian, with an I, like his uncles”.

Staff member, “Middle name?”

Judith, “James, like his grandfather” (grind of the teeth).

Staff member, “And it’s Webb obviously Mrs Webb?”

She said, “Yes” (like the alien human hybrid in the movie Species).

The staff member asked, “We have the registration documents here, would you like to fill them in now, yourself?”.

She replied “oh, no. My husband Kevin can fill those in for you if you like when he gets here. I’m too tired.”

Staff member said “Okay”, and she went back to sleep.

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I was put in a room, which I think held some other babies in there. Kaiser Adolf stood by the door guarding it outside. He was still communicating with me. He stood there thinking of what he was going to say to my father Kevin when he arrived back at the hospital. A difficult one. He would have had to try to speak to him about it, but technically he was not allowed to use his real name in case an Italian Secret Service agent was around.

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My father Kevin finished work I think around 6:30pm at Yarragon Dairy. He was then taken to the local pub in Yarragon across the Princes Highway (both are still there) by his workmates to congratulate him on the birth of his first ever son, which he informed them of when he got back to work from the hospital well after 6am. They bought him drinks, gave him Cigars, chatted, bought spirits, had a laugh, etcetera. He was there for around 3 hours. 

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Adolf decided it was getting late and he had to be going before it got completely dark. He came into the room and found me, gently picking up my wrist and checking the name tag on it. Then gently touched me whilst looking at me and talking quietly, until he got a smile out of me in my sleep. I think he may have taken a couple of photos of me before he left. 

He then said “Oh, what do I say to a baby I may never see again before returning to the foreign country?”. It was a similar pause to when he was unexpectedly elected Chancellor in the Reichstag in 1933 and did not have a speech. He said “uhm, oh, uhm, ah, oh”.

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Then gave me a quite lengthy speech, which seemed quite formal. He mentioned a lot of things, with repeated reassurances not to worry, he thought I would be fine, and my mother would not do anything stupid. He was quite chatty about it and quite serious. Too many things to mention here. Don’t worry be happy overtones through it. Then said he had to leave because it was getting really dark. Then suddenly stopped, straightened himself up, and said a formal goodbye. And left.

He went down to the car and got in. Apparently, the handy mechanic got a huge smell of newborn baby goop, powder, soap, and other weird baby smells. Which would have been even weirder due to the fact I am his biological nephew. They drove off.

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Kaiser Adolf was the first person to pick me up and hold me gently, including up against his chest with both hands, and handle me with any kind of normal human responses to a newborn baby. My father Kevin had not at sunrise because he thought he had missed my birth by minutes, and I was put next to the sink for a first attempt to wash me off. He did touch me, talk to me, show normal responses, and let me hold his thumb. Kaiser Adolf held me up against his chest, cleared my airways, monitored my heartbeat, talked to me to keep me quiet, washed me, try to wash my hair, powdered me, tried to wrap me up, and was the first person to assume I was probably hungry.

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My father Kevin arrived back at the hospital around an hour after Kaiser Hitler the Hohenzollern left, about 10PM. He was quite drunk, he was never a problem in that state though, and completed the registration documents for Births, Deaths and Marriages, Victoria, Australia. They were collected, processed on 26 January 1972 in a batch with others, and a record added for my birth to the publicly available records. It is different here to other countries. The only way you can leave is by plane or boat, so a birth certificate is an important document to have. People do not get issued with a passport automatically after being born here, if a citizen born here needs one, that person must apply for it.

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I went home with my Father Kevin G Webb and Mother Judith M Webb to 27 Campbell Street in Yarragon, Victoria, Australia.

 

The only biological child of my two married parents to be registered and go home in their custody from their entire marriage, which ended in divorce in the Dandenong Family Law Court in the late 1970’s. At the divorce hearing I was the only biological child on the books for settlement and child maintenance payments purposes.

My father could not go to the hearing, he had to work to pay off the divorce settlement, so he sent his lawyer. When it became clear my father was not going, they decided to send a totally different woman to the hearing pretending to be my mother, who dragged me and an older female cousin along.

She behaved as if she had an acting job for the day. We went to the hearing, where me and the older cousin were the only two children in attendance. She waited for my mother’s name to be called, and when it was, she left me standing in the corridor and took the older female cousin in to the courtroom.

As she wandered off, she muttered something, saying I could “wander off anywhere I liked, and hopefully ‘that guy’ will pick me up from the footpath and….”

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I decided to stand where she left me and not go anywhere until they came back. The judge could see me left in the corridor through a pane of glass in the door. He repeatedly asked if the person he thought was my mother had “forgotten something” during the hearing and leaned forward to look at me through the strip of glass in the door, then back to the woman he was talking to. She replied a couple of times “oh, no, I think that’s everything”, and then ruled in favour of my father Kevin’s divorce settlement proposal. She came out of the hearing, said “oh you’re still here, come on then”. And we travelled home.

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Someone was parked outside the court hoping I would wander off outside, so I could be snatched from the footpath, assaulted, and dumped dead.