Preface

In the 1950–60s, the not so Cold War between the Communist East and the Capitalist West was giving the globe as hard a time as the war between Muslim Militarism and Malignant Materialism is today. Back then, Russia and America were ready to spark the smallest political clash into the nuclear holocaust of the apocalyptic Battle of Armageddon and flash the world white-hot at any moment.

In the 1950s, I was at boarding school in the English market town of Oundle where the threat of nuclear war was close indeed. Just two miles Polebrook military airfield packed the explosive power of 450 Hiroshima bombs. In World War II, the us Air Force had posted a certain Clark Gable to Polebrook airfield. Now, in addition to planes, the same airfield hosted three ballistic Thor missiles. The airfield had gone up in the world, and was ready to go up with it, in these hottest years of the Cold War. A nuclear strike by Russian rockets would evaporate the airfield and Oundle along with it.

For its ally America the UK had parked sixty Thors in threes—as eggs valeted out in each of twenty airfield-baskets like Polebrook. Each us Thor, marked with an raf roundel, was tipped with a two-megaton nuclear warhead packing the explosive power of 150 Hiroshima bombs. Some Sunday afternoons, my friends and I would peek furtively through the perimeter barbed-wire fence of the airfield and see a Thor rocket out of its bunker, either standing proudly erect on its launch pad, like a huge white thorn pricking up out of the green countryside, or lying sedately flat, ready to rise. Its 1,750-mile range would let it evaporate Moscow, Leningrad, or Kiev, we reckoned, but not Stalingrad.

Oundle was at the edge of the flat strategic terrain of East Anglia. This was one of the closest uk coasts to Russia. It was dotted with scores of military airfields that formed the flight deck of USA-battleship-UK. They took their names from picturesque nearby villages like Polebrook, which sported thatched cottages, quaint family pubs, and manicured village greens; echoed the sounds of bucolic Saturday afternoon cricket matches and the voices of lonesome ladies; and smelled of new mown grass.

Since World War II, the RAF and USAF had run these airfields jointly. Previously, us-battleship-uk had been moored off Europe as a main launch pad for Allied bombers to destroy an enemy called Nazi Germany, mere flight hours away. Now in the Cold War, the same battleship was moored off Europe as a key launch pad for the West’s nuclear rockets to erase an enemy called Communist Russia, mere rocket-minutes away. Posing as a face of the West’s cutely called “nuclear shield”, East Anglia was really the sheath for its sharp nuclear sword.

The famously productive gravel-pits of Oundle had fed the acres of runway concrete at Polebrook and three other airfields nearby. Alconbury, twelve miles southeast, hosted the planet’s biggest-ever arsenal of nuclear bombs, and had plans, planes, and pilots to deliver them. Years later, one of its pilots shared that his payload would have let him nuke his target in Russia but would have left him short of fuel for the full journey back. Wittering, sixteen miles north, bristled with smaller rockets arrayed on their launch pads in a field right next to the main a1 highway from England to Scotland and in full view. From international crisis to international crisis, their easterly tilt would change visibly, to warn or disinform Moscow via its spies in the uk, as much as anything. Molesworth, six miles southeast, was then a dark impenetrable mystery, only later to be revealed as a notorious cruise-missile base. Yet the missiles trucked to it could not cruise even the main street of Oundle, leading to conversion of the local railway-line into a bypass road.

In those mad days of Mutually Assured Destruction, each East Anglia USAF/RAF airfield was set to nuke somewhere in the ussr in its own particular way at a nod. Similarly, the ussr was set to nuke sites like Polebrook in the UK and the USA in a blink. Who struck first was irrelevant. Either way, we living next to ground-zero would simply flash to ash—spared at least the bang. Rehearsing “duck and cover” under tables like the American kids on TV was pointless. In any case, they would die too, but far more miserably, frozen slowly to death by nuclear winter.

So during our supposedly halcyon schooldays, my school friends and I were breathing, drinking, eating, and sleeping the numbing bill of fare of the looming nuclear holocaust of Armageddon. Most of the time we kept quiet about the grave scene. But occasionally we opened up and debated it. For what it was worth—and it was worth a lot—many of us joined the cnd (Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament) and went marching to “ban the bomb”.

But otherwise life was good. Oundle School was an island of peace within the nuclear sea. Here Book of Revelation images less threatening than Armageddon filled our hearts and etched themselves into our minds. Religious classes taught us the meanings of its Book of Life, Tree of Life, and New Jerusalem, and they emanated the essence of its incense-perfumes and the stench of its sacrifices. Performances of Handel’s Messiah and Verdi’s Requiem filed our ears with its Hallelujahs and its praises of the Lamb (really the “Ram”). Daily chitchat tripped out its catchwords like Millennium and 666 from our lips. End of term assemblies sang and did those feet in ancient time from Blake’s Jerusalem that inspired us with its intent. Sunday services (Anglican) sat us under the gaze of its four Living-Beings depicted on shields hanging high on the chapel wall—this time benign wooden ones that were non-nuclear. Back then, its Lion, Ox, Human-Face, and Eagle portrayed the top four Jewish Prophets Isaiah, Zechariah, Daniel, and Ezekiel, along with the canonical four Christian Evangelists Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. Now they also portray the four Primary-Figures of the new Baha’i Faith.

Such Book of Revelation themes hugged our young minds just as they grip the collective consciousness of the West generally through books like Armageddon, Appointment with Destiny, End of the Age, and Coming Judgment of the Nations; movies like Seventh Seal, Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, and Pale Rider; and stained-glass window motifs in churches and cathedrals like Chartres.

The Book of Revelation makes its very first word into its title, as do the books of the Old Testament. This first word is Apocalypse, which means literally an unveiling or revelation. In the same vein from here on I will refer to the Book of Revelation as “Revelation” or “the Apocalypse”. Catholics tend to prefer “Apocalypse” and Protestants tend to prefer “Revelation”. (The oft-heard “Revelations” is inaccurate, even though it does reflect the many visions in the book.)

My fear of nuclear war led me to read Revelation as the source that had spawned that scary wordArmageddon. Specifically I wanted Revelation to tell me when this nuclear war would start—just in case I could distance myself from Oundle in time. Yet it mentioned Armageddon only once—in verse 16 at the end of its Chapter 16—just after the war of this great Day of Almighty God (obviously nuclear war!) and just before a barrage of catastrophes like heavy hail (obviously nuclear missiles!). But, importantly, it lacked even any hint about the timing of Armageddon, in spite of having time-prophecies for other important events.

So now I tried another way to discover the timing of Armageddon. I set out to follow the train of chronological events leading up to Revelation’s Armageddon. Chapters 1–16 would predict these events. I set out to find out what these events had been. At this point I discovered that no unified interpretation of Revelation existed, even though literarily it was known as the most unified Book in the Bible. The available and mostly Christian based interpretations of it were peppered with paradox and piecemeal. They explained just a verse here, a dragon there, or a number somewhere else. They showed lots of its trees but no forest. They offered many treatments but no cure.

Even its title Unveiling title seemed a divine joke. Unveiling was the last thing that Revelation seemed to want to do. Worse, the vast spans of prophetic time unfolding as the pages of its ages mocked the pathetically short time that we attending school in the shadow of those Thors had to live. So any possible prophetic year-date for Armageddon remained a needle lost in the Revelation haystack. Irked and breathless at Revelation snubbing my efforts to discover the timing of its Armageddon I gave up trying. At the same time, I swore that I would—one day—find out what Revelation and its Armageddon were all about.

Just at this point, a sudden insight calmed my concerns about nuclear holocaust. It was so obvious. There were another six Revelation chapters after Armageddon! These Chapters 17–22 predicted an economic collapse, a happy Millennium, and a New Jerusalem. So whatever Armageddon was, it couldnot be a nuclear holocaust wiping humanity off the planet. Now reassured, I did not even bother to watch the Cuba crisis waxing and waning in 1962. Instead, I focused on my medical studies, graduated, specialized, and went on to practice intensive-care medicine.

Meanwhile, the Cold War thawed, the fog of East-West tensions thinned, and warmer political air blew across the planet. The airfields of East Anglia were downgraded. Polebrook went back to farmland and a new industrial estate. Alconbury became a container storage site or a base for high-altitude usaf u-2 sr-71 spy planes—depending whom you ask. Molesworth became nato’s Joint Analysis Center for Europe. Only Wittering continues to operate as an RAF airfield.

Yet in spite of my first futile foray with prophecy, I still felt its power to reveal higher realities and toforetell new things before they sprout.[i]-J Its power helped me to make sense of the human lot in general and of the sufferings of my patients in particular.

In the process, the power of one specific Old Testament prophecy rang especially loud. This prophecy—really a set of prophecies—predicted the return of the Jews to the land of Israel. And, lo and behold, in my own lifetime, the Jews had indeed just returned to the land of Israel and founded the State of Israel in 1948, after tenaciously surviving as a nation without a state for nineteen centuries. Seeing history fulfill prophecy so pertinently held me in great awe. It led to me visiting Israel, learning Hebrew, marrying a native, raising a family, practicing medicine, and living there through five wars and two intifadas.

Now in retirement, writing Apocalypse Secrets has switched me from intensively managing medical minutes that save lives to intensively analyzing prophetic millennia that save souls. In the process, I have learnt that prophetic hindsight validates prophetic foresight. This means that prophetic books are books more of proof than of prophecy. Then only towards the end of writing Apocalypse Secrets did I recall my angry teenage oath to figure-out the Apocalypse. This oath had probably subliminally driven my keystrokes from the start.

The Armageddon that got me into the Apocalypse and the Apocalypse into me derives from HAR-MEGIDO, the Hebrew for Mountain of Megiddo (HAR meaning mountain). But Bible scholars, tour guides, and coach-loads of visitors routinely wrongly identify Armageddon as the ancient archeological mound of Tel Megiddo. Yes, it is located at a strategic site, it possesses two water sources for withstanding sieges, and it did once stable warhorses and chariots. Nonetheless, how can this mere 225–foot high and paltry 10–acre tel possibly pass as a har that is a mountain?

It cannot! Instead, little Tel Megiddo serves simply as the pointer to the true mountain of Armageddon at whose base it nestles. It functions as a Trojan horse bearing the true mountain of Armageddon as its cargo hidden in full view. This true mountain of Armageddon is majestic and mighty Mount Carmel.

Identifying Armageddon as Mount Carmel fits the full literal meaning of its original source of HAR-MEGID-O. Further to HAR  meaning mountainMAGID means also Preacher, and O means His (for God). So Armageddon really means Mountain of God’s Preacher.

Mount Carmel is God’s sacred mountain in the Book of Isaiah and His large and lofty mountain in the Book of Revelation.[i] As the mountain of Armageddon, Mount Carmel fits the biblical bill of the prophets Elijah and Elisha as past Preachers of God, and of the two recent Baha’i Prophets titled respectively the Doorand Glory of God. Furthermore, the Armageddon mountain of Carmel resounds yesterday’s twentieth century worldwide warfare, proclaims today’s Preachers of God, and announces tomorrow’s divine civilization of New Jerusalem.

[i] Isaiah 11.9 & Rev. 21.10

[i] Isaiah 42.9

Map of East Anglia airfields


Four Living-Beings on shields


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tel Megiddo

 

 Mount Carmel as the true Armageddon mountain