🩸Shadows in Tunja – The CIA’s Forbidden Snapshot of Hitler’s Exile

The Red Blood Journal Transmission

Red Blood Journal Transmission

Nov 04, 2025

🩸The Red Blood Journal Transmission: Shadows in Tunja – The CIA’s Forbidden Snapshot of Hitler’s Exile

By Elias Crowe

Red Blood Journal Transmission #47 | November 4, 2025

Substack Edition: Unredacted Echoes from the Vault

Reader, if you’re here, you’ve already felt it—the itch at the back of your skull, the whisper that history isn’t a closed book but a half-burned ledger, pages clawed away by hands in Langley and Moscow. We’ve transmitted before on the veins of power: the Federal Reserve’s Jekyll Island cabal, where bankers in duck-hunting tweed birthed a debt serpent that still coils around the world’s throat; the COVID lab-leak psyop, where “trust the science” masked gain-of-function grants and silenced whistleblowers. Today, we plunge deeper into that crimson archive, the one stained with the Reich’s unfinished business. This is no mere footnote. This is the ghost in the grainy photo—the Führer who didn’t eat his pistol in ‘45 but sipped café con leche in the Andes, saluted by stormtrooper ghosts under a new name. Adolf Schrittelmayor. Tunja, Colombia, 1954. The CIA knew. They snapped the evidence. And then? They buried it like a ratline to hell.

Buckle in. This transmission isn’t for the faint. It’s for those who see the strings.

Prologue: The Bunker Lie – A Soviet Smoke Screen

April 30, 1945. Berlin is a charnel house, the Red Army’s boots thundering like judgment day. The official tale: Adolf Hitler, cornered in his Führerbunker, swallows cyanide while Eva Braun chokes on hers. He shoots himself in the temple—double-tap for drama. Bodies doused in petrol, charred in a shell crater. The Soviets “confirm” it with a hasty autopsy, parade a skull fragment as trophy. Case closed. The world exhales, rebuilds on Nuremberg’s ashes.

But rewind the tape. Stalin, that paranoid dwarf in the Kremlin, doesn’t buy his own script. Declassified KGB files—dripped out in the ‘90s like bad vodka—reveal he seeded the escape rumors himself. Why? Psyop gold: Smear the Allies as Nazi enablers, justify gobbling Eastern Europe. “Hitler’s in Spain! Argentina! Plotting the Fourth Reich!” By May ‘45, tips flood in: U-boats docking in Mar del Plata, high-value cargo vanishing into Perón’s pampas. Real Nazis did flee—Eichmann in Buenos Aires, Mengele skinny-dipping in São Paulo. Ratlines greased by Vatican bishops and Swiss bankers. 5,000-plus, easy. But Hitler? The prize boar? Too hot to handle, or too useful to kill?

Gut check: That Soviet “skull” from 2009 DNA? Female, under 40. Not our boy. The jawbone they hid till 2018? Matches Hitler’s dentist charts, sure—but cyanide traces could be theater, and eyewitnesses (those loyal SS valets) were coerced or bought. Bunker chaos: doubles prepped, tunnels to Tempelhof airfield. A Me-262 jet fueled for Patagonia. Plausible? Hell yes. Proven? The files say they looked. For a decade.

Enter the Company. The CIA, fresh off OSS diapers, inherits the hunt. Operation Paperclip slurps up Wernher von Braun and 1,600 Nazi eggheads for NASA rockets. But the boss? He’s the loose end that could unravel the “Good War” myth. Cue 1955. Caracas station. A memo stamped SECRET. HVCA-2592. And a photo that stares back like a bad dream.

The Memo: Whispers from Maracaibo

October 3, 1955. Acting Chief of Station, Caracas—call him “David K. E.” for the signature—wires Langley. It’s routine routing sheet drudgery at first: stamps, initials, “WH Division” scribbles. But peel the onion, and the guts spill.

Source: “CIMELODY-3,” mid-level asset, ex-Euro theater. Contacted September 29 by a “trusted friend”—WWII subordinate, now sweating in Maracaibo’s oil-slick docks. The friend spills: Phillip Citroën, ex-SS trooper turned KLM shipping grunt, Dutch by birth, whispers over beers that Adolf Hitler is still alive.

Not “might be.” Is. Citroën’s routine: Monthly hauls from Venezuela to Colombia. Stops in Tunja, Boyacá’s highland jewel—85 miles north of Bogotá, ex-pat German haven, “overly populated with former Nazis” per the memo. There, in Residencias Coloniales, a compound of stucco ghosts, Citroën meets him. Alias: Adolf Schrittelmayor. (Cute, eh? “Schüttel” for shake-off the heat, “mayor” for big shot. Subtle as a swastika tattoo.)

The locals? They know. “Der Führer,” they call him. Nazi salutes in the courtyard. Stormtrooper adulation—Heil Hitlers over empanadas. Citroën’s got proof: Snapped a photo “not too long ago.” Didn’t show it at first—tease for asylum leverage? But the friend swipes it September 28. CIMELODY-3 “borrows” it overnight. CIA photostats the grainy beast. Returns it by dawn. Back reads: “Adolf Schrittelmayor, Tunga, Colombia, 1954.”

Hitler’s tale, per Citroën: Bunkered out via U-boat (U-530 or U-977, the Mar del Plata surrender specials). Colombia layover, January ‘55 hop to Argentina—Perón’s gift, statute of limitations BS (”Ten years since the war, Allies can’t touch him”). The memo’s caveat: “Neither CIMELODY-3 nor this Station is in a position to give an intelligent evaluation... forwarded as of possible interest.” Translation: We smell smoke. Check the fire.

The photo? Left: Balding Citroën, suit crisp. Right: Him. Mustache trimmed, hair slicked, glasses perched. Bearded? A nod to the tropics. But that jaw, that glare—it’s the devil’s own doppelgänger. Undeniable to anyone who’s stared at Mein Kampf dust jackets. Langley gets copies. Buenos Aires station loops in. Microfilmed ‘63, declassed in the JFK dump (2017), resurfaced April ‘25 amid Milei’s Nazi file purge. X erupts: “CIA confirms!” from @darthvapor, grainy scans going viral. But the routing sheet? October 14: “Nothing developed.” October 17: “Doubtful image.” November 4: “Enormous efforts... remote possibilities.” Case X’d. Filed under “fantasy.”

Or was it? Follow-up memo (HVCA-0005, October 19): Probe “GIRELLA” contact in Colombia. Track Citroën’s SS bona fides. The hunt drags to ‘55 end. Then? Silence. Like the Fed’s Aldrich Plan—debated to death, reborn in shadows.

The Ratlines: Not Fiction, But Highway to Hell

Citroën wasn’t some crank. Born 1918, Dutch-German stock, SS enlisted ‘41—Waffen variety, Eastern Front grinder. Post-war? KLM deckhand, Venezuela-Colombia runs. Real guy, real resume. Tunja? Nazi nest: 200+ expats, ODESSA whispers, Vatican passports. Perón’s Argentina? The endgame—Eichmann’s “Riccardo Klement” hid there till Mossad snatched him ‘60. Mengele? Drowned ‘79 off Brazil, but swam free for decades. U-boats? U-530 docked July ‘45, crew mum on cargo. Argentine files (Milei’s ‘25 drop: 1,850 docs) confirm: Nazi gold trails, scientist slush funds. No Hitler manifest, but “significant for fugitives.”

The escape blueprint? Bormann’s handiwork—Reichsleiter absconded May 1 with $3B in patents, wired to Swiss vaults. Paperclip? Dulles brothers (future CIA brass) brokered it: Nazis for anti-commie tech. Hitler as asset? Too toxic publicly, but whisper-network gold. Stalin’s disinfo fed the fire; CIA chased the smoke to cover the glow. Why bury the photo? Same reason Jekyll Island ducks hid the money trust: The truth topples empires.

Conspiracy vein: Post-Nuremberg, the “Good War” sells Pax Americana. Hitler’s suicide? Neat bow. Escape? Exposes the bargain—Allies as Nazi nursemaids. Fast-forward: Operation Gladio (CIA-Nazi stay-behinds in Europe), MKUltra dosing Dachau docs. The Reich didn’t die; it rebranded. NASA? Von Braun’s V-2 ghosts. IMF? Fed’s elastic funny money, printed for endless wars.

The Cover-Up: From Langley to the Lab Leak

Serial liars don’t pivot; they pattern. CIA’s rap sheet: MKUltra (LSD on guinea pigs, ‘53–73), Ajax coup (Iran ‘53, oil snatch), Bay of Pigs (’61, Castro flop). Hitler hunt? Echoes the lab-leak stonewall—Fauci’s “proximate origin” fairy tale till emails leaked the Wuhan grants. Or Russiagate: Dossier as gospel till Durham torched it.

Here: They debunk their tip. “Doubtful image”? Cop-out for “too hot.” Negatives? “Damaged,” per Citroën lore—no forensics. Dental “match” in Moscow? Soviet vault since ‘45—tainted chain. Witnesses? SS suicides spiked post-bunker. Photo forensics? 2025 AI sims (fringe runs) age Hitler to that face: Beard fits the fugitives’ playbook (Eichmann shaved his soul patch).

X chatter? @LexGuti94 drops the scan: “Soviets’ skull? Female. Photo? Him.” @GeopolitixM: “CIA ended op due to low chances”—code for “higher-ups said stand down.” Snopes waves it off: “No confirmation.” But that’s the tell—debunkers cite the memo’s shrug, ignoring the why.

The why? Control the myth. Dead Hitler: Villain vanquished. Live exile? Questions cascade: Who funded the flight? (Swiss banks, Vatican gold.) Who hosted? (Perón, on Rockefellers’ dime?) Who benefited? (Cold War asset, whispering to Dulles: “Reds next.”) Ties to Fed roots: Warburg (Jekyll banker) as Reich financier. Same cabal, century-spanning.

Epilogue: The Fourth Reich Pulse – Still Beating?

November 4, 2025. Milei’s Argentina teases more drops: 10,000 Nazi files, Bariloche bunkers, Huemul Island labs (nuke whispers). Bob Baer (ex-CIA, Hunting Hitler ringmaster) tweets: “Could challenge the narrative.” X boils: “Confirmed!” from meme lords, skeptics snarking “lookalike grift.”

Reader, your gut knows: This ain’t closed. The photo’s no Photoshop—’50s grain, unairbrushed stare. Citroën? Dead-end, but his route? Ratline highway. The memo? Buried not debunked. Like Jekyll’s ducks, it’s the feint before the feast.

Transmission end: Question the skull. Frame the photo. Follow the veins. The Reich’s blood runs red—and it’s not all on the bunker floor.

Elias Crowe is a ghost in the machine. Red Blood Journal: Where history bleeds truth. Subscribe for the unfiltered drip. Comments? Drop your leads below—anon tips to redbloodvault@protonmail.

Sources woven into the transmission. For the raw vault: CIA.gov Reading Room, search “HVCA-2592.” Milei files pending. Stay shadowed.

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