Memories of Георгий Романов

The time was around 1919-1946. I unfortunately have no idea where exactly I was born in Germany, however I know I was in fact a German. I also sadly am unaware of an exact year of birth, but I know I died no later than late 1945 or early 1946. I sadly also have no name to go by, because I have not remembered it at this point in time.

My earliest signs of my previous incarnation was showcased I believe at the young age of two as I said above. I will describe the event a bit deeper. My Mother was watching the television, and was flipping through channels. She happened upon the History channel and what was being aired was a documentary about World War II. Now, this account is taken from my Mother, and my older sister, because I was only two years old at the time and my personal memory isn't being relied on here at this point. I was glued to the screen, and was paying close attention to everything I saw. It was one of Hitler's rallies, and as I watched it, I stood and started marching like the members of the German army. My arm was raised, and I shouted "Heil Hitler!" At this point in time, I had never seen anything of the sort on television or in books. My family never talked about it either. We are a North American family, that is fluent only in English. I didn't know an ounce of German. I also had never seen Hitler before.

As the years progressed, and I was at the age of about five or six I learned that I was very good at the German language. I never had really heard it being spoken before. The only place is on TV while watching things on the History channel. Where I live there are mostly English speakers, so I would not have heard it from an outside source of that sort. Once again, on the TV I heard something that brought my attention to my skill with the German language. My sister and I were watching a music station, and it would play popular music videos. A new song appeared, and it was a German band. The song played and I immediately took to it and fell in love. The chorus of the song is rather repetitive so I was able to catch on pretty fast and I soon started singing along. This sort of thing continued through the years, because we both discovered our new found love in this German band. I listened to them frequently when we finally managed to purchase their albums. The German language flows from my mouth so fluidly, it's like I already know it, and to this day, my pronunciation is superb even though I'm an English speaker. I am not at all fluent, but it wouldn't take me much to get there.

At the age of nine or ten, I found myself having dreams. And I believe I was the one that perhaps triggered this phenomena. I was compelled one day, while I sat alone in my room to use a lighter. I wanted to burn things, and the things that I wanted to burn were rather interesting. I burned hair, and burned a scab that I picked off of my knee. The scent of the burning hair and flesh filled my nostrils and I suddenly felt faint. I started seeing flashes of imagery. I saw these old buildings, they looked like the camps in Nazi Germany. I was walking through these old cobble stone streets, in uniform. The uniform was an SS uniform. I was compelled to research things a bit, and I became obsessed with World War II; mostly from the German perspective. I would look through photos of the old camps, and just go into a sort of trance while looking. I continued this method of burning to send myself into these visions, and it started to make me dream of these places.

After those dreams began to carry through, the place that I lived started to seem different to me. I lived on an old military base. The houses had been revamped to make them appealing housing units, but about a five minute drive away from my house, not even would take me to the hangars. We had these old military buildings that were still in their original state. This old army base, whenever I'd drive by it I would feel light headed. I wanted to go and explore these buildings, but there were trespassing signs everywhere. I would however every opportunity I got to take in every building, and I'd find myself imagining I was there walking around in the buildings.

While on the topic of the military, I may also note this. My Father is an avid movie watcher. He is frequently watching movies and one of the genre's he is interested in is war. I never took much interest in the ones about certain wars, because in general I hate the glorification of war, even when I was young. I would however when he'd watch any that pertained to the World War II subject, I couldn't not watch them. The strange thing is, although I wanted to watch the movies, I couldn't bring myself to at the same time. I had a bad fear for war. The moment I'd hear and see gunfire and explosions I had felt the need to cover my head. I would feel an anxiety build up in me. I couldn't watch. I also hate seeing the planes fly overhead. It always bothers me, and I just can't watch. Even when I am outside, and planes fly above me, I have to watch them until they are clear out of sight. I always have a fear something will drop from them. This fear has been with me since my earliest days. There isn't a time that I can remember not having this fear.

At around the age of thirteen I really started to take notice of my obsession. I was very obsessed with World War II. I wanted to read about it, I wanted to watch it. I even hoped one day to start a Nazi collection. When I had reached the age of fourteen I really noticed my obsession was different from other people's obsessions. Not many of my peers were as into this subject as I was. While in High School History class I really took notice of this. We were on the topic of WWII, and I became enamored with this class. I looked forward to it everyday. Our teacher would show us old photos from the camps, and we'd have discussions about the War. We even watched old movies, and some of Hitler's rallies. I would glue myself to it all in an obsessive way. I would even be argumentative with the class and teacher over the opinions and events regarding the subject. I was always on the opposite team so to speak.

When I was seventeen, and I graduated High School I landed my first job. When I had some income, some of the first things I purchased were to fuel this fire. I purchased my own copy of Mein Kampf, and purchased a replica Luftwaffe uniform. I also managed to get my hands on an antique belt, sadly it's not an actual SS belt - it is one that was issued after the war, but when I wear it, I still get the illusion that it's an SS belt. Even though it isn't from the right time, it still is an antique and looks "similar" to the ones issued to the SS I believe.

The dreams that I had at this time were really not too much different than their predecessors, one difference is however they were more in depth. When I'd see the camps, they'd be more detailed. I could see that definitely one camp I was at was Auschwitz. I feel I traveled a lot and wasn't working solemnly at one camp and wasn't always just stationed in Germany.

When I wore my uniform, I could really put myself back. When I put it on, and looked down at myself, it's like I was there, and this is when things really started to pick up for me.

I had a vision when I put my uniform on for the first time. I was placed in a room, the room wasn't a room I had ever been in before, but I can see it so vividly I could draw it. I was getting dressed, in front of a mirror. I was putting on my uniform, boots and all. After I was suited up, I walked down the stairs, and left my house. The details so vivid once again, I could draw it. Dreams like this continued, and the obsession continued.

In the following year at the age of eighteen my dear uncle passed away. He was always going to auctions, and he had his hands on some WWII items. I was given some of those items. They consisted of a few Nazi pins. I was in my glory. The years progressed, and my sister and I got talking. These visions for me had increased so much. I talked to her about it, and she shared with me that she had recollection of being in Germany as well. The more we shared, the more we realized, this wasn't the first time we had known one another. She was my sister back then as well. We both remembered the same house, the same buildings. We fed off of one another, and really helped each other grow.

After speaking with her, the dreams and visions heightened immensely. I know see myself doing the most regular of tasks. Brushing my teeth, shaving, getting dressed, eating breakfast, driving to work; the simplest of things. With the help of my sister, I really started to remember what my home looked like. We both could draw what we remember.

One day, when I was twenty I was walking home from work. There is a house that looks awfully similar to the house her and I remember living in. As I walked by it, I started to see things. The cars started to look like old cars from the 1920s/30s. I looked down, and my body wasn't the one I live in now. Things had changed. I had fallen into a complete trance. I saw myself drive up to my house, and get out of my car. I unlocked the door, and came inside. As I was inside, I heard loud music. It was music that sounded like it was from the 1920s/30s. The music sounded soft, soft like it was being played on a record player. I yelled up the stairs "Ana! Turn that music down!" I noticed later on that what I heard wasn't in English..it was in German but I somehow knew what was being said. The great thing about this, I found out my sister's old name. Ana. I believe it was short for Annika/Anneke (unsure of the spelling). I told her of what I saw, and when I told her that was her name I think it just clicked with her and she knew I was right.

I was lucky enough at this time for the dreams and visions to keep on coming. I continued to see these camps in my dreams, started to see people that I had never met in this life. I saw myself from an early age, right up to my death. I remember being a little boy, going to school. I was a chubby little kid, short for my age. I remember my little uniform, and sitting at the desk waiting for the teacher to start the lesson. I even remember some childhood abuse I endured from that life. I remember I had a horrible Father, and an even worse Mother. I remember them fighting frequently. I know I had siblings, Ana was one of them, but there were others. I remember relationships I had with people. I had a girlfriend, but was never married. I also remember fighting in war, and being sent home due to injury. While fighting, there was an explosion, and I got hit in the head with shrapnel. This had me in a coma like state for weeks. I remember having problems with my motor skills, speech and hearing from this injury. Any of the problems though did heal eventually luckily. I know that the injury was taken on the left side of my head, up at the front of my skull and by my temple. I also seem to recall getting a wound badge. The first time I saw this badge it looked familiar and then it seemed match a dream I had when I saw my uniform. I believe it was silver. I unfortunately don't recall any other badges or insignia.

These visions and dreams became so frequent, that these memories I have feel like memories from this lifetime. I really remember living them. About four years ago from now was when however I had the biggest vision yet, I saw my own death. I was lying in my bed, trying to fall asleep. I was not succeeding so I started a movie. I started a war film. It was a quiet one for the most part. There was a scene however where the main character got wounded (by surprise in the same spot that I remember getting hit with shrapnel). He got sent to the infirmary, and there were several other soldiers injured. Seeing this scene sent me back. I saw in larger detail my injury that I had sustained and lived through, and then it was like my vision moved forward to a different vision entirely. Here is what I saw. The sky was dark, the air was damp. I believe it was raining, or it had been. The smell of smoke filled the air, explosions in every direction. Gunfire from behind, gunfire to the side and gunfire to the front. There was no grass in sight. Where I was, it was just mud and sand. I had a gun in my hands, and I raced forward and began to shoot the enemy. Suddenly, I was hit. Through the left side from behind, a bullet pierced me right through the lung/heart region. I fell to the ground. I could feel the explosions beneath my body. I could hear the planes flying above me, could hear all the gunfire. I could even feel the vibration from the soldiers running through the ground. As I lie there, those sounds start to weaken. Everything starts to get dark. I feel my warm blood exiting my body, and I feel it flowing from my mouth and nose. Soon I hear nothing, and everything is black. Those vibrations are the last thing to leave, and the warm blood now feels cold. And then...there's nothing.

After this vision I immediately darted up and felt my chest. My heart was racing, I could feel the pain of the gunshot. My vision was blurred, and I couldn't hear well. This continued for about ten minutes. I fell asleep.The next day I continued to think of this over and over again, and it put me in a trance. I saw something else, my funeral.

As I was thinking about my death everything went black. I couldn't see anything, and then suddenly I could. I was standing somewhere grassy. There were a lot of trees. Leaves were scattered on the ground, and the air was cold. I felt raindrops hitting me as I stood there, heard them dropping on the leaves. I had no idea where I was. The colours of everything seemed...off. It was like everything was sepia toned. I took note that there was a large group of people in the distance, so I walked close to them. As I got closer, I noticed their voices were muffled. It sounded like I was underwater. I tried to figure out where I was, and I soon noticed I was at a funeral. I looked around, and couldn't understand who's funeral I was attending. I couldn't understand what was being said, because I couldn't make out any words. Like I said, it sounded like I was underwater. I approached an older woman, and tapped her on the shoulder, but she didn't even react. I tried to talk to her, but she didn't notice me at all. I carried on beyond her, and tried to get attention from others, but I got no response from them either. I then noticed Ana was there. She was crying so hard. I approached her to comfort her, but she didn't see me. She couldn't hear me. She couldn't feel me. I stood back and looked at her. She was wearing a black dress, it looked like it was made of tulle. She had a pink ribbon around the waist, and lace like gloves. She had a black hat that went with it, almost like this black sun hat. The hat also had a pink ribbon around it. I tried again to get her attention, but she didn't notice me. I approached the body of the deceased, and I noticed it was me. I then knew it was my funeral that I was attending. This immense feeling of fear washed over me, and I then remembered how I died and that I had died. I tried to get her attention again, but nothing. The service was soon over, and everyone left, everyone but her. She stood in front of my grave, knelt down and shot herself. I saw her fall to my grave and then it was like I disappeared. I got out of this trance, and was pondering it for a while.

I dreamt about it that following night, and saw exactly the same thing. . I relayed it to my sister the next day, telling her how I died. She confirmed it. She said she had remembered me getting shot, just as she had also remembered me getting an injury in the head from shrapnel before that. I then told her about the funeral, and what I saw her wearing. She looked in shock. I described the dress perfectly and she started crying. She told me that she remembered wearing the exact dress I described. I then told her I saw her kill herself, and told her where and how she did it. She again, was in shock because what I was telling her matched what she remembered. She then knew I was with her that day.

We never shared information on this before, we always kept it in our minds, until this day I decided to share it with her. This German life of mine, the one I shared with her is so much a part of me. I remember it so well, I just hope one day I can remember a name.

This is the first life I will share, because it was the first that surfaced in me. I will share more in posts to come.