The John Doe Times is an on-line, electronic newsletter published by
the 1st Alabama Cavalry Regiment (Constitutional Militia) and friends.
If your reading this, you probably already know the rest, and we're in
a hurry. Sic Semper Rodentia.
Q: On the phone with us this morning from Washington, D.C. is the Washington
Bureau Chief from the London Sunday Telegraph, Ambrose Evans-Pritchard.
Good morning, Ambrose.
P: Good morning.
Q: Now, we've been talking about you in glowing terms behind your back
[Ambrose laughs] because you really have been the person who has--I mean,
you've had this Oklahoma thing nailed right from the beginning. You've
been telling us for over a year about this stuff, and only now are we seeing
people like Andreas Strassmeir and Michael Brescia emerge into the mainstream
P: Yeah, well I got to know an Oklahoma couple, Glenn and Cathy Wilburn
who lost two grandchildren in the blast, a long time ago, and I realized
that these two people knew what they were doing. They were conducting their
own investigation and had been doing so right from the beginning. They
didn't believe the official story. And they, in conjunction with an Oklahoma
journalist, John Cash from the McCurtain Daily Gazette, have basically
been pushing the pace on this and breaking everything open, so I've just
piggybacked on them.
Q: Well, now as we've seen, yesterday I played two different excerpts
from the evening news on Friday. One was the CBS coverage which was all
about the Fortiers.
P: Oh, that was just a COMPLETE joke!
Q: Yeah! That was the government line. That's the damage control that
the government is doing now that their OTHER star witness, Mr. Kessenger,
is starting to fall apart because he's changed his story. The problem is
that these Fortier people have changed their story, too. How much pressure
were they under by the government to change their story and come out with
this bogus story that they're telling now?
P: Well, that's interesting. As far as CBS is concerned, they're so
far out to lunch, they don't know what they're doing. The networks, ABC
and NBC, have both had two sets of crews working on the story for a long
time. One's a documentary crew for NBC Dateline and ABC 20/20, and another
set of crews for the nightly news.
Q: By the way, can I stop you right there? I understand from Reed Irvine
at Accuracy In the Media, I believe it was the 20/20 report--was that ABC?
P: That was ABC, yeah.
Q: O.K. There was a TREMENDOUS amount of pressure put on ABC not to
run that report, and, according to Reed, it came from the highest levels
of the Justice Department.
P: Well, I think that's been the case for some time, for several months.
The teams that have been pursuing this story for the networks have run
into incredible resistance at the top. But nevertheless certain things
have gotten through. There've been about four different broadcasts, developing
the story on prior knowledge, on other people involved in the bombing,
a broader conspiracy, and now finally NBC came out on Friday with the story
about the ATF informant saying that she was monitoring the bombing from
the very beginning for the government.
Q: What's her name? Howe?
P: Carol Howe. ABC had that story. They'd been talking to her for some
Q: They had that Friday night while CBS was running this story--
P: No, ABC never ran the story. They killed it.
Q: Oh no, that's right! NBC had it!
P: Yeah, ABC had it and everybody was waiting for them to go with it.
They were waiting for them on Wednesday night--it didn't happen. They were
waiting for them on Thursday night--it didn't happen. And finally it was
clearly spiked, and NBC nipped in and did it instead, much to the embarrassment
at ABC. Now they're going to have to explain to history why they did that.
Why did they spike a story of such enormous importance and great NEWS value?
Q: Oh, of course!
P: And they've now been exposed. Everybody knows about it. It's all
over the Internet. One of the producers of the program, he's a consultant
producer, Roger Charles, was so furious about it that he came out on a
couple of radio shows and denounced his own network, saying they'd spiked
the story. So it's completely blown open. And, I don't know--we're going
to have to examine why the top of ABC News seems to be willing to do the
bidding of the White House so frequently.
Q: Well, you know, first ABC News comes under intense pressure not to
run the 20/20 piece from the Justice Department, then they RUN it. You
can imagine what kind of response they got from the White House after they
ran it, so probably these guys are bruised and bleeding and didn't want
to do anything else.
P: Yeah, I mean [laughs], they're all going to lose some degree of credibility.
What CBS did was the worst of all because they ran this trashy propaganda
put out by the government on Friday. Obviously the government was in a
panic about this informant coming forward, so they said this rubbish about--I've
forgotten even what they said now, but it was a completely irrelevant story
about the Fortiers.
Q: Well, it was about the Fortiers. What's interesting, Ambrose, is
that the Fortiers didn't know anything in the beginning. And then after
INTENSE 24-hour a day pressure and searches of their home and everything--the
whole Richard Jewell treatment--by the FBI, all of a sudden they change
their story and they know everything, except everything they know is derived
directly from and agrees with things that McVeigh had said in his deposition.
So, they tried to build something there.
P: Well, I don't think Fortier is going to be as useful as a witness
for the government as they think. I think under cross examination he's
going to be really destroyed by Stephen Jones, McVeigh's lawyer. You know,
the Fortiers are in quite a difficult position because I've read a lot
of circumstantial evidence to suggest that he was a full-scale bomber.
Q: Who? Mr. Fortier?
P: Yes, and they've rather got him over a barrel, haven't they? If the
alternative is the death penalty, you know, you're kind of willing to say
almost anything, aren't you?
Q: Well, anything they ask you to say, yeah. You know, I want to ask
you something else, too, and I don't want to scatter our thoughts here
too far. But all of a sudden now, like three weeks ago, the FBI was trying
to cover up the problems in the crime lab by firing a whistle-blower and
three others--ah, Mr. Whitehurst. All of a sudden, like overnight, the
FBI seems to have found some utility in coming clean about the corruption
in the crime lab. Are they laying the ground work here for dropping the
case and saying that the evidence was tainted?
P: ARE they coming clean? The last I heard was that they're demanding
a criminal prosecution of whoever leaked that information about the report
on the crime labs.
Q: So they want to continue to persecute the whistle-blowers?
P: Oh, I think so, yes. [laughs] I don't see any evidence that they're
accepting what's happened at all.
Q: Well, Janet Reno came out a couple of days ago and said, well, you
know we're going to have to check all this evidence in these major crimes.
I think in the Moody bombing investigation he just got found guilty and
got the death penalty last night. And in the Oklahoma bombing, we've got
to find out if this evidence is TAINTED. I'm thinking to myself, it's real
convenient if you can consider this evidence tainted, because you can drop
the charges against McVeigh and walk away from this thing without ever
bringing up these bogus witnesses who are going to get DESTROYED on the
P: Well no, I think the whole crime lab issue has just got its own momentum.
I think it's independent of this, and I think it's a big problem for the
government because they're depending on forensic evidence from the crime
lab to convict McVeigh. And I don't think they can really use that much
very convincingly anymore because, again, we already know that they tampered
with that evidence, or at the very least handled it incredibly carelessly.
We know that they cooked up this theory about a 4,000-lb ANFO bomb, NOT
from the evidence collected at the crime scene, but from having searched
Terry Nichols' house. In other words, they go to his house, they find the
fertilizer and so forth, so they then say, 'Oh, it must have been a fertilizer
bomb.' It's not taken from the crime scene. They put the cart before the
horse. Well, the defense lawyers are just going to run with this. But I'm
not sure that they've got anything else to convict McVeigh with because
they don't seem to be willing to call any of the witnesses who saw him
at the crime scene on the day of the crime.
Q: Well, I want to get to that, but I've got to take a break here. Can
you hang with us?
Q: Ambrose Evans-Pritchard, the London Sunday Telegraph Bureau Chief
in Washington, D.C. We'll be right back.
Q: And back to our guest, Ambrose Evans-Pritchard of the London Sunday
P: I'd like to say there's a very important story that's come out today
[*Tues. 2/11/97] in the little Oklahoma paper, the McCurtain Daily Gazette.
It's the full story of the ATF informant and it's pretty devastating. I
mean, for one thing, she cased the building with Andreas Strassmeir, this
Q: By the way, I saw him on TV. He looks an awful lot like John Doe
II--thick lips, bushy eyebrows, same hat-- [Transcriber's note: I think
Quinn mistook Michael Brescia for Strassmeir in the TV newsclip.]
Q: Yeah, I mean, some people have suggested that maybe he was John Doe
Q: It was Michael Brescia? O.K.
P: No, he's skinny--skinny with very pointed "rabbit" front
Q: Yeah, he's a mean-looking sucker, I'll tell you that.
P: Well, he's a strange fellow, but she said that she went with him
and a fellow called Dennis Mahan who's a white former Klansman in Oklahoma.
Q: And who's denying everything.
P: Right, and she actually was WITH them when they went to Oklahoma
City and cased the building.
Q: Oh my!
P: They did it three times, apparently, one of which on one of the occasions
she was with them. She told them, told the ATF, that this white supremacist
group at Elohim City where Strassmeir lived were planning to blow up a
federal building. They had three targets in mind, one was the federal building
in Oklahoma City and two of them were in Tulsa--the IRS building in Tulsa,
and another building in Tulsa. They had a planned target date of April
19th of 1995 which was the day of the bombing. She provided all this information
to them in reports. She submitted a monthly informant's report to her case
handler--her case officer at the ATF in Tulsa, Angela Findley. The ATF
have admitted that she did work for them. And she outlined a lot of the
development of the early stages of the conspiracy. And then after the bomb
went off, within 24 hours, she was taken for debriefing at an underground
command center in Oklahoma City one block from where the bomb went off.
It was actually in the basement of the old Pepco building in downtown Oklahoma.
And there she identified John Doe I and John Doe II for the government
immediately. They had sketches at this point. I guess it must have been
the second day after the bombing.
Q: O.K. So John Doe I would be McVeigh?
Q: Oh, O.K. who?
P: McVeigh never went into that truck rental office. It's all a canard.
The government has no case based on that.
Q: So McVeigh was never THERE?
P: He never went into the truck rental office to rent that truck. HE
didn't rent it. It's ALL a canard.
Q: So, who are these two guys, John Doe I and John Doe II.
P: Well, I know who they are. One of them is Michael Brescia. The other
guy, since his name is not being openly put forward in the press, I'd better
not mention it right now. But they're all from the same group in Elohim
City. It's the Aryan Republican Army, this group that I talked about before--the
military wing of the Aryan Nation who conducted the whole operation. It's
a large conspiracy. McVeigh was a member.
Q: Now are you suggesting that the Ryder truck didn't have a bomb in
P: No, but the government case is that McVeigh rented that truck using
the false name of Robert Kling, a South Dakota driver's license.
P: He did not rent that truck, however. He never went into the building
[*i.e., the Ryder truck rental building] and the original witness descriptions
of the man who rented the truck, John Doe I, is someone who is 5' 10"
or 5' 11", I think 5' 10" is the original size they put out--
Q: And he had acne.
P: Pock-marked skin, fairly stocky. Well, McVeigh, of course, is about
6' 3", skinny as a rake, 160 pounds, baby faced. It wasn't him. But
I can tell you something, I'm not sure if this has come out, but McVeigh
was sitting in a McDonalds in Junction City at the time. He's on camera,
because they had surveillance cameras, and he was sitting there eating
a hamburger. The person who was renting the truck was wearing camouflage
fatigues. McVeigh was there in civilian clothes at exactly the same.
Q: So, what was McVeigh's role in all this?
P: McVeigh was waiting for them to pick up the truck and then they were
going to come and join him at the McDonalds and pick him up. But HIS DEFENSE
TEAM HAVE GOT THAT FOOTAGE [*Caps used for emphasis, mine] -- the surveillance
footage from the McDonalds.
Q: Oh, they do?
Q: O.K. Because I understand that there's been SOME surveillance footage
that shows John Doe II that's been confiscated be the FBI.
P: Well, I don't know about that. What is clear--to me, anyway--is that
McVeigh didn't go into the Ryder truck rental office. If he did, I certainly
don't think that the government can establish that in any clarity because
the original witness statements--now, one of the clerks at the truck rental
office, Tom Kessinger, is now saying that he's convinced that it was McVeigh.
This is after even monks in the back of the Himalayas know what McVeigh
looks like because his photo has already been published.
Q: Well, Kessinger was the witness for the government who couldn't recognize
McVeigh in the beginning, but now he knows what McVeigh is, right?
P: Well, Kessinger has changed his story so many times that he's discredited
as a witness. For example, he said that there was a John Doe II who came
in and was absolutely convinced about it, and now he's saying that there
wasn't a John Doe II, that he was all mistaken, that it was this Army soldier,
Tod Bunting, who came in on a different day. Well, the problem with that
is, (a) he can't just say this two years later. When his mind was fresh,
he was quite clear about it. There was a John Doe II who came in with the
person who rented the truck. And (b) he's told a number of people including
Glenn Wilburn that the whole thing was a joke, and the government came
up with this idea that there wasn't a John Doe II, that it was this soldier.
He laughed about it. He ridiculed it and said, "I don't know how they
came up with THAT one."
Q: Well, it's clear from watching Bunting on TV that he had no idea
where he was or why he was THERE!
P: He has nothing to do with it. They're desperately resorting to some
way to kill off this question of John Doe II. We KNOW who John Doe II is,
and we know who the other members of the group are. It's absolutely clear
at this point.
Q: O.K., well, I know I've got to wrap this up because you don't want
to stay any longer than 8:30 a.m. I know you've got things to do. So, where
are we now with this case and what are the ramifications for the future
of what we discovered.
P: Well, at this point, there's no doubt in my mind that it was a penetrated
operation. They had some degree of prior knowledge. The question we must
determine is whether it was MORE than that. Was it a full-blown sting operation?
Andreas Strassmeir was clearly not just observing this from the edges.
He was INVOLVED in it. He cased the joint. According to Carol Howe, he
was deeply involved in developing and pushing the bombing conspiracy. In
which case, who was he DOING it for? He's a former Germany Army officer.
He had intelligence training. He told ME that he came to the United States
with the intention of working undercover for the Justice Department, and
here he is going in and casing the building before it was blown up. So
who was he working for?
Q: Well, we're told that he came to work for the Justice Department
and then the job fell through.
P: Well, he said that it was rather an idea he had and he wanted to
work for the DEA doing undercover work penetrating cocaine cartels.
Q: Yeah, the question is, DID the job fall through or was he acting
on the government's behalf in the bombing of this building. It's a terrible
conclusion to come to.
P: Well, the Wilburn's now feel--they've named him in a civil suit as
a co-conspirator with Tim McVeigh--and what they now believe is that he
was a full-scale provocateur. Now, if that's true, if the government provoked
this bombing and then bungled it at the last moment when they were trying
to stop it, that's an INCREDIBLE scandal! We're talking about something
far worse than simply having known a bit and then botched it. We're talking
about them having put this group up to the bombing in first place.
Q: Well, this is almost like the World Trade Center.
P: Oh, it's worse, far worse!
Q: Incredible... just incredible!
P: This is what we have to determine: What was Andreas Strassmeir's
role and who was he working for? What did he do?
Q: Well, I would suggest to you that Andreas Strassmeir better watch
P: Well, he's gone underground. Ever since Carol Howe, this informant,
came forward he's disappeared. He won't talk to anybody. He's in Berlin
at his parents' house, but he refuses to -- up to now he's been reasonably
cooperative, but he realizes now that the cat's out of the bag. He's now
going to have to decide what to do. Either he's going to be considered
a bomber, or he's going to be considered an undercover agent who did his
best to stop this thing and then was let down when they somehow let the
Q: So, one way or the other, either the government knew about it and
blew a sting, or actually had an agent provocateur who precipitated this
event in the first place.
P: I thought for a long time they had some informant inside this thing
and some knowledge, but probably not very precise knowledge. The more we're
learning about the role of Strassmeir, I think it goes beyond that. And
there's also the question of why they haven't arrested some of the other
people mentioned. The informant told them that John Doe II was Michael
Brescia two days after the bombing. They didn't even go and talk to him.
By the way, McVeigh's former girlfriend also said that she thought that
John Doe II was Michael Brescia. And they never interviewed the guy. They
conducted 21,000 witness interviews, and they don't interview the person
two important witnesses identify as John Doe II.
Q: As a matter of fact, they won't even return their phone calls. They
don't want to KNOW about it.
P: I mean, are they trying to protect the man?
Q: And, if so, why?
P: And, if so, why? Right. I mean there's SO many questions here. I
think it's a huge scandal.
Q: Well, let me ask you this. Do you think at some point the government's
going to just drop this case so it doesn't have to be heard in court. I
mean, look what they're risking by allowing this to be heard in court.
Of course, Judge Match is an old FBI guy. He might rule that certain evidence
is not admissible.
P: I don't know. He was very angry with the prosecution last week. They
denied that the ATF had any reports from an informant, and lo and behold,
it comes out that they do. He was furious! He told one of the prosecutors,
"You lie to me one more time and you'll be off this case!" And
demanded that everything be handed over to the defense team. McVeigh's
defense team have now got copies of these monthly reports the informant
Carol Howe wrote. I don't know. I don't know what the government's going
to do. They've got a fantastic mess on their hands. They've boxed themselves
into a corner.
Q: So, you're not ready to make any predictions as to how this is all
going to play out?
P: Well, I hope that McVeigh doesn't have an accident in the next couple
Q: Yeah, that'd pretty much close it right down, wouldn't it?
P: It certainly would make it more difficult, yeah.
Q: Make it very tidy.
P: Well, you see, one of the members of the group, the Aryan Republican
Army, was found hanged in his cell. He was on trial for bank robbery for
funding terrorist activities.
Q: Where was this?
P: Well, that was last year. In Columbus, Ohio, you've got some of them
on trial for bank robberies--
Q: Uh huh.
P: For 22 bank robberies in the Midwest. It's my belief that they were
basically funding the Aryan Republican Army's terrorist activities which
included the bombing of the building. Four of them were arrested. One of
them committed suicide in his cell after he did the plea agreement.
Q: AFTER he pleaded--oh, good! [laughs]
P: He was found hanged by a sheet from an air vent.
Q: Another "Arkancide".
P: Another "Arkancide", and the fifth one, Michael Brescia,
same guy, was picked up a couple of weeks ago in Philadelphia for the bank
robberies. But they still haven't got around to talking to him about the
bombing. [he laughs]
Q: Yeah, it's interesting--NBC, when they first broke the story about
Brescia being arrested, they said, "And there might--there MIGHT--be
a connection to the Oklahoma bombing." Boy, did they back off of that!
I haven't heard ANYTHING about that since from NBC and from Tom "Broke-jaw".
Well, you know what? We're fresh out of time, Ambrose. I want to thank
you for cutting loose some time to talk to us this morning. I'm looking
forward to the day when you can come back to Pittsburgh--
Q: --and address a whole bunch of us. It was fun having you here.
P: Well, thanks.
Q: And, let us know what's going on. You are the only guy who's out
there REALLY digging on this. And I just find it interesting that Mr. McVeigh's
attorney said that, "Once America learns about what really went on,
they'll never think about their government the same way again."
Q: Ambrose, thank you again. Have a good day.
The Saga of Pretty Boy Pedro
How a Wheaton Kid Became a Neo-Nazi Bank Robber, and One Confused Human
By Richard Leiby
Washington Post Staff Writer
Thursday, February 13 1997; Page B01 The Washington Post
Commander Pedro didn't command much of an army, just three full-time
soldiers: a tattooed skinhead, a white-power rock drummer and a balding
bank robber. But the commander and his racist Aryan Republican Army had
all the necessary slogans and munitions. They had pipe bombs and guns galore,
even a rocket launcher. They had a "high command." And a plan
for "ethnic cleansing."
They could play war just like the big boys.
"Linger on this continent at your own peril," the Commander
warns his foes in a videotaped communique. "We have endeavored to
keep collateral damage and civilian casualties to a minimum . . . but as
in all wars, some innocents shall suffer. So be it."
That video -- "Rated: Extreme Hate," according to its label
-- is part of the evidence filed in federal court here against Peter Kevin
Langan, a Wheaton High School dropout and wayward son of a foreign aid
official. In the video the speaker's face is shrouded by a black ski mask,
but it's clear that Pete Langan and Commander Pedro are one and the same.
They share the same deformed finger, the same flinty brown eyes, the same
At 38, Langan faces life in prison for bank robbery, weapons violations
and the use of explosive devices. Convicted here on Monday, he fancies
himself a prisoner of war, snared but not broken by the "federal whores"
of the vile New World Order. In a twisted way, for him this represents
success. All his life, Langan aspired to prove himself as a warrior. And
also as a man.
Federal agents say Langan and his cohorts pulled off 22 bank jobs in
seven states over two years -- a run worthy of Jesse James or Pretty Boy
Floyd. Like Old West outlaws and Depression-era gangsters, the Aryan soldiers
had a theatrical bent and populist sense of purpose -- they dubbed themselves
the Midwestern Bank Bandits, donned Santa Claus suits and Richard Nixon
masks during holdups, sent letters to newspapers taunting FBI agents, and
once left a bomb in a lunch pail along with a pack of Twinkies. Part of
their modus operandi parallels the plot of "Point Break," a B-movie
starring Keanu Reeves and Patrick Swayze that features a gang of bank robbers
who disguise themselves as former presidents.
Langan's 107-minute propaganda video, titled "The Aryan Republican
Army Presents: The Armed Struggle Underground," unspools like an overly
long "Saturday Night Live" sketch. It's interrupted by phony
commercials for "Blammo Ammo" and "Second Chance" body
armor. At times wearing a gas mask, waving a pistol and displaying his
gang's "plunder" -- $50 and $100 bills stuffed in Mason jars
-- Pedro issues pronouncements in fractured Spanish while minions in military
garb goose-step to his desk.
It would be great parody if it weren't so rabidly racist: The ARA members'
adolescent sense of humor camouflages a dead-serious brand of anti-government,
anti-black and antisemitic spew. The bank robbers advocated terrorist acts
against what they called the "Zionist Occupied Government," and
may have crossed paths with Oklahoma City bombing suspect Timothy McVeigh.
One source in the white-power movement who knew some of the robbers
claims that ARA loot helped fund the 1995 blast. But federal prosecutors
say they have not been able to link the gang to the bombing.
"If you are going to look for ideological connections, there are
plenty -- and there is an overlap of certain people being in similar places,"
says Michael Levy, first assistant U.S. attorney in Philadelphia, one of
three jurisdictions where indictments have been issued against Langan and
others involved in the ARA robberies.
Langan, for his part, says he had nothing to do with the bombing. "Most
of my family, my siblings work in federal buildings," he says. The
Commander admits only to being an "eccentric," and, well, maybe
a white separatist.
"I don't think I'm any more racist than any person who's really
honest with himself," he says in his first extensive interview since
his capture by the FBI in January 1996. "If I am a racist, I come
by it honestly."
Actually, he arrives at this point in life through a combination of
dishonesty, self-delusion and pure pathology. But as criminals go, Langan
is more intellectual than most: He reads Kipling and Shakespeare, can quote
from "The Merchant of Venice." With his dyed, flowing hair and
long, carefully tended fingernails, he impresses you as a prissy aesthete,
not a hardened thug.
As a psychological specimen, Langan is fascinating: a changeling of
ideology and identity. He's the imaginative, multilingual boy who grew
up in Saigon amid a privileged community of U.S. intelligence agents and
military advisers; the pre-teen hippie who spouted leftist slogans and
marched for peace and brotherhood; the runaway who had been shot and served
prison time by the age of 21.
Years later, he's a weapons fetishist and neo-Nazi government hater
-- who's slick enough to convince the feds that he's on their side. In
1993, the U.S. Secret Service sprang Langan from jail, allowing Commander
Pedro and his ragtag revolutionary army to launch their bank-robbery spree.
" `Bizarre' puts it mildly," says Mayes Davison, one of Langan's
former attorneys. "This would make a novel like you wouldn't believe."
"Gosh, there's a wealth of material," agrees the Commander,
smug in his loose-fitting prison khakis, pleased to have your attention.The
"This was never about money for us. It was about us against the
-- Bodhi the bank robber in "Point Break"They preyed mainly
on small banks, in friendly towns where the tellers weren't barricaded
behind plexiglass. In Ohio, Missouri, Iowa and elsewhere, the Midwestern
Bank Bandits followed the same MO: One or two of the masked gunmen would
leap over the teller's counter and grab cash from the drawers, while another
guarded the lobby. The goal was to get out within 90 seconds. Don't go
to the vault -- don't get greedy. The vault takes too much time.
The haul was never huge -- $7,500 to $10,000, once as much as $28,000
-- but this method was efficient and relatively safe. It was the same drill
used by the gang in "Point Break" -- right down to the bandit
in the lobby checking his watch and calling out intervals of elapsed time.
The Aryans added another twist: They left decoy pipe bombs and grenades
to distract the police. The bombs were supposed to be duds, but were packed
with real gunpowder and festooned with wires. (FBI experts later testified
that the bombs could have exploded.) The devices were planted in the bank
lobby or in an abandoned getaway vehicle -- a "switch car" that
the robbers left behind to further confound the cops.
Besides Nixon, Reagan and Clinton masks, the Aryans also wore jackets
and hats emblazoned with "FBI," "ATF" or other law-enforcement
acronyms. Langan carried a silver and gold deputy U.S. marshal's badge
and ID card. The robbers tweaked the Man whenever possible, mailing postcards
to a local sheriff ("Sorry to hear that your county is bankrupt"),
nominating FBI spokesmen for community service awards, and sometimes registering
getaway cars in agents' names.
Depending on the season, they left their bombs in Easter baskets or
Christmas stockings. "Ho, ho, ho, get down on the floor," Santa
ordered customers of a bank near Cleveland. (That was Langan, according
The Aryan bandits never shot anyone, but aspired to a greater goal:
"to commit terrorist acts against the United States government,"
one former member testified. Authorities say the gang was inspired by the
tactics of the Order, a 1980s neo-Nazi ring that stole millions and murdered
Alan Berg, a Jewish radio host in Denver.
In closing arguments here, a prosecutor made the point that Order leader
Robert Mathews used a Spanish code name too: Carlos. In his video, Commander
Pedro praises Mathews, who became an anti-government martyr after dying
in a fiery shootout with the FBI in 1984. "Learn from Bob," Pedro
Required reading in both the Order and the ARA was "The Turner
Diaries," a blueprint for an end-of-the-century race war whose main
character belongs to an underground cell that robs banks to support itself.
The book is said to have been a favorite of Tim McVeigh, too.
The Aryan Army's total take between January 1994 and December 1995 is
estimated at $250,000. Very little was recovered. Some of the loot apparently
was distributed to sympathizers; a lot was plowed back into the robbery
They lived cheaply, but the four-man army didn't skimp on business needs.
Testimony and evidence shows that Langan established a separate cash trove
dedicated to what he called "the Company" to cover expenses:
getaway vehicles, police scanners, bulletproof vests, pagers, phone cards,
walkie-talkies, phony IDs, hotel rooms, safe houses, storage lockers and,
of course, weapons.
The Company name resonates on two levels. It's the code word Bob Mathews
used for the Order, and Langan believes his father, Eugene, was a CIA agent:
"Yes, the Commander grew up in the Company," he says in the video.
(Other Langan family members say this is true, though the CIA won't discuss
Pete Langan ran the Company with his longtime friend Richard Guthrie
-- a holdup man and fraud artist who liked to be called "Wild Bill."
Langan and Guthrie grew up within blocks of each other in Wheaton, although
they didn't become close until years later. "They were more than friends
-- they were brothers," says Norman Smith, a felon who knew them both.
Some say Wild Bill was even more unstable and politically extreme than
Langan -- a bad influence, if that's possible. Guthrie was kicked out of
the Navy in 1983 -- for painting a swastika on the side of a ship and threatening
superiors, Smith says.
Guthrie attended gatherings of the Aryan Nations, a white-supremacist
group in Hayden Lake, Idaho. He and Langan also espoused the beliefs of
its Christian Identity religious wing, which preaches that Jews are the
spawn of Satan and that blacks are "mud people."
A tireless proselytizer, Guthrie traveled the country distributing propaganda,
a Johnny Appleseed of hate. He appears in the video as "Commander
Pavell," affecting a Russian accent, brandishing an HK-91 assault
rifle and declaring, "So much to revolt against, so little time."
Langan and Guthrie enlisted two younger bandits: Kevin McCarthy, now
19, and Scott Stedeford, 28, who knew each other through the Philadelphia-area
skinhead music scene. Stedeford, a drummer, ran his own music studio and
once led a speed-metal band called Cyanide.
A bassist, McCarthy sported Nazi tattoos and gigged with Stedeford in
a white-power band, Day of the Sword. They hung out at an Aryan Nations
enclave near Allentown, Pa. They covered Led Zeppelin's "Whole Lotta
Love" but changed the lyrics to say: "Way down in your heart,
you know the system sucks. You got a whole lotta nothin'."
While on Company business, they toted their HK-91s in guitar cases.
They all went by code names; they traveled in beat-up vans, rendezvoused
at malls or at safe houses in Pittsburg, Kan. (where they shot the video)
and in Columbus. The robbers' other hole-in-the-wall hideout was Elohim
City, a heavily armed Christian Identity community in Oklahoma near the
One of the enduring mysteries of the Oklahoma City bombing investigation
is why, two weeks before the blast, Tim McVeigh placed a 1-minute 46-second
phone call to Elohim City. Whom was he calling?
Stedeford and McCarthy were hanging out at Elohim City then, but there
is no proof that McVeigh knew the Aryan robbers.
He may have shared their ideals, though. Jennifer McVeigh told FBI agents
in a sworn affidavit that Tim gave her three $100 bills in December 1994
-- cash that he said came from a bank robbery he helped to plan. He didn't
Jennifer McVeigh says her brother also once sent her a letter fulminating
about powerful Jews and bankers. "Banks are the real thieves,"
she says he declared. "Persons who rob banks may not be criminals
at all."A Childhood Loss
The Commander lays down the ground rules. He will not talk about his
criminal history. He will not talk about his ARA associates.
He will not disclose why his pubic hair was shaved and his toenails
were painted pink when he was captured by the FBI. ("I'm going to
be real coy," he says.)
Finally, he will not be tape-recorded, because tapes "can be altered."
But for more than two hours, he discourses on philosophy, his family history
and, mostly, his youth.
"When my memory starts, it starts in Saigon . . ."
Summer 1963: As the Diem government of South Vietnam totters, the capital
is inflamed by civil and religious strife: riots, bombings, a wave of self-immolations
by Buddhist monks, martial law. Eugene F. Langan and his wife, Mary Ann,
are at the center of the crisis. So are their six children.
A retired Marine Corps major, Langan is a public safety official attached
to the International Cooperation Administration (the forerunner of the
Agency for International Development). He provides intelligence and helps
to train local police. Mary Ann is a receptionist in the U.S. Embassy annex;
she narrowly escapes injury when the building is bombed.
For the Langan kids -- three boys, three girls -- these are times of
excitement and terror: watching riots from the rooftop patio of their stucco
villa, fleeing tear-gas shells lobbed on the lawn.
Stationed in Saigon since 1960, the family has known good times, too.
It has the requisite maids, gardeners and cooks. Pete, the youngest, is
enrolled as "enfant de membre" in a Saigon sports club (and decades
later still carried the card to prove it). He has a driver who picks him
up at the French Catholic kindergarten and always made sure to stop for
a treat of freshly squeezed sugarcane juice on the way home.Like most boys,
Pete aspires to be like his dad -- a career soldier of the Great Santini
school who imposed military discipline on his family to the extent that
each member had a rank. Gruff, but capable of warmth, and somewhat mysterious
-- that was Eugene Langan.
"Before anyone told me, I had in my mind that he went on secret
missions," Pete recalls. "I don't know whether it was a typical
childhood fantasy, but I felt it was true."
By 1964, the father relocates his family to the safety of Wheaton, a
Cleaveresque neighborhood of mostly government workers. Eugene Langan goes
back to Vietnam; Pete pines for his father to come home. Finally, in 1967,
Dad returns -- suffering from stress, asthma and emphysema exacerbated
by too much time in a tropical climate.
In the woods along the creek, Pete plays soldier, enlisting other boys.
"We used to involve the whole neighborhood in large-scale army battles,"
he recalls with a wistful smile. This is how he bonds with his father:
"I used to go and hunt down the Viet Cong, then come in the living
room and give him the body counts."
Within a few months, everything changes. Maj. Langan, much-decorated
veteran of World War II and Korea, dies of a heart attack at age 50. Pete
gets to keep his father's Marine Corps ring.
But there will be be no more rides in Dad's Austin-Healey 3000. No more
"I was 9 years old," Langan says.
He will never forget losing his father. He will never forgive, either.Against
By age 10, Pete Langan is establishing a lifelong pattern of defiance.
He's the baby of the family. His mother indulges him.
"Being the youngest, I could get away with it," he concedes.
"I knew how to get away with it and milked it the most."
At 12 he is caught joyriding in a stolen car. He's sent to military
school but goes AWOL. He sews peace signs on an old Army jacket. He steals
a copy of Abbie Hoffman's yippie tract, "Steal This Book."
At Wheaton High School -- "a dope mecca," in his memory --
he samples an array of drugs. "If there was something I wanted to
do, I just did it."
He drops out of 10th grade, runs away from home, lives in the woods.
In the memories of friends and family, one incident seems prophetic:
Pete and a buddy are casing cars in a parking lot. A Montgomery County
policeman sidles up to investigate. Pete pulls a gun and tells the startled
officer, "You're under arrest."
He handcuffs the cop to a car and takes off in his cruiser. Somehow,
he gets away with it. The law -- to Pete, it's nothing but a big joke.
He heads for Florida, pulls stickups to survive. His first criminal
conviction comes in 1974, for robbing a man of $78. Fleeing police, he
suffers a bullet wound to his left hand. A Florida judge hammers the 16-year-old
with an adult's sentence: up to 20 years. Racism Takes Root
Langan was raised in a household where the N-word wasn't uttered. His
parents, Scottish and Irish, respected other cultures. During holiday open
houses, a Langan family tradition, Hispanics, Asians and blacks came to
After five years in prison, Pete emerged as a racial separatist. He
tried the straight life -- college, marriage, honest labor -- and failed
at them all. His siblings pursued military careers and jobs with federal
agencies. He struggled as a handyman while raising a son after his divorce.
"He felt the world was against him," says Norman Smith, 38,
one of Langan's closest friends. "He never felt he could measure up
to his brothers and sisters."
In the 1980s, Smith, Langan and Rick Guthrie would ride motorcycles,
hold target practice and talk politics. "We all marched under the
banner of white survival," Smith says from a Maryland prison, where
he's serving 11 years for assault and larceny.
Langan moved to Ohio, where he converted to Mormonism in 1988 but later
became an ordained minister in what authorities describe as a Ku Klux Klan-affiliated
church. He lived with his sister, Leslie, an IRS employee in Cincinnati.
He then moved in with a girlfriend, Faith Ford, who also worked for the
IRS and described herself as a "white Christian."
At Ford's house, Langan stockpiled guns and 10,000 rounds of ammunition.
He dressed his young son in military camouflage.
In October 1992, Guthrie and Langan hooked up to rob a small-town Pizza
Hut in Georgia. That puny-paying job (about $900 each) whetted their appetite
for bigger jackpots and grander accomplishments.Double Cross
"As through this world I ramble, I seen lots of funny men/ Some
will rob you with a six-gun, some with a fountain pen."-- Woody Guthrie,
"Pretty Boy Floyd"
By August 1993, Georgia authorities had Langan cold on the Pizza Hut
holdup. He faced a potential life sentence. Ohio also wanted him on weapons
violations. Then the Secret Service intervened.
The deal was unbelievably sweet. The local prosecutor would let Langan
out of jail free, recommending that his bail be lowered from $150,000 to
$8,000, allowing him a signature bond. The local cops deferred to the Secret
Service, which put Langan on a bus back to Ohio and gave him $50 traveling
All he had to do was look for Richard Guthrie.
The Secret Service wanted Guthrie for supposedly making threats against
President Bush during a campaign swing through Georgia about the same time
as the Pizza Hut job.
"I don't envy y'all the task of finding him," Langan told
a Carnesville, Ga., sheriff's investigator in a taped interview. "He's
got friends, associates, contacts all over the country. . . . He can obtain
identification and registrations 10,000 different ways."
By Sept. 2, Langan was riding, without handcuffs, in the passenger seat
of a Secret Service agent's car, bound for the bus terminal in Atlanta.
After he arrived in Cincinnati, the feds paid to install a phone in his
home so he could try to "contact" Guthrie.
The local agent assigned to the case checked in with Langan several
times, but after Nov. 12, never heard from him again. Langan's cooperation
had lasted all of six weeks.
By January 1994, Langan and Guthrie were back in the robbery business.
They hit a bank in Ames, Iowa -- the first in their long string of Midwestern
"Pedro sends his regards," Guthrie wrote in a note that summer
to the Georgia sheriff. "As a seditionist, I remain . . . Rick."Captured
By the winter of '95, the other gang members were having problems with
Wild Bill. He was sloppy, acting crazy. They cut Guthrie out of an Ohio
job that December.
So Wild Bill went solo, pulling two bank robberies in Cincinnati. The
FBI got a tip and captured Guthrie after ramming his van into a snowbank
Almost immediately, he ratted out his buddy Pete. He allowed the feds
to tap his voice mail. He told them to look for a man with shoulder-length
dyed red hair. In mid-January 1996, Guthrie led agents to Langan's door
-- with a warning for them to wait until the Commander emerged, or else
there'd be "another Waco."
A team of heavily armed FBI men and U.S. marshals surrounded Langan
as he got into his white van, parked that morning behind the safe house
in Columbus. Langan froze at the wheel, raised his hands slightly, then
hesitated. His eyes shifted; he dove between the driver and passenger seats.
In the rear of the van, he sought cover in a wooden tool box.
Some agents later swore they saw Langan going for his gun, heard shots,
felt a bullet whiz by and saw puffs of smoke. They emptied their shotguns,
pistols and rifles into the Chevy van -- some 50 rounds. They all missed.
The evidence showed that Langan never fired a shot. He emerged, miraculously,
with minor scrapes -- and a piece of felt from a shotgun shell lodged in
At the hospital, though, Langan believed he was mortally wounded --
shot in the brain. Doctors X-rayed his skull. He pointed in alarm to a
piece of metal detected on the film.
Calm down, the doctors said. That's just part of your ponytail holder.
Richard Guthrie agreed to plead guilty to 19 bank robberies and testify
against his fellow ARA soldiers. In due time, the feds brought in the others:
Stedeford, who has since been convicted in Iowa and sentenced to 10 years;
and McCarthy, who also rolled over and is awaiting sentencing.
While in jail, Guthrie started calling and writing reporters, telling
them he was working on a book. He had secrets to reveal. For starters,
he said the ARA had donated money to certain extremist causes -- wouldn't
give names, though.
In July, he was found dead in his cell. Authorities said he hanged himself
with a bedsheet. He was 38.
"Sometimes it takes something like a suicide to settle a problem,"
he'd written in a note to his attorney. "Especially one that's like
. . . mine."
The Commander collected memories, packed them in briefcases. One seized
by the FBI was found to contain old bingo cards, an "I Love Faith"
button, a fortune cookie message and one AAA School Safety Patrol Badge.
During a pretrial hearing, a prosecutor quizzed Langan about that last
"It was a badge for crossing guards," he explained. "In
elementary school we had a safety patrol. And you were given an orange
belt and sash, and you put a little badge on there, and you instructed
children when it was safe to cross the street. Because this was before
busing and we all walked back and forth to school."
But it wasn't you who wore the badge, was it?
"No," Langan replied. The shiny little badge, which he carried
with him for more than 30 years, belonged to one of his brothers or sisters.
`Uncle Adolf Had It Easy'
We are at war with the System, and it is no longer a war of words.--
"The Turner Diaries"
The Commander's video was part of a recruiting effort -- it was seized
in an envelope addressed to the Hayden Lake neo-Nazi compound -- but even
its makers conceded that they were facing an overwhelming enemy.
"Uncle Adolf . . . he had it easy compared to us," Langan
says, referring to Hitler. "The Aryan Republican Army has dared to
take on the most powerful nation in this wretched world . . . with the
most powerful army and police forces."
As a performer, though, Pedro is captivating. He blusters about ARA's
"nuclear, chemical and biological warfare program." He threatens
to unleash its "large quantity of TOW missiles." He draws a machete,
toys with a grenade, laments how the war has separated him from his wife
"Daddy will be home soon," he promises, "as soon as he
sets things right in the world."
Langan's friends will tell you that one thing hasn't changed: Pete always
wanted to play general, be in control, give the orders. As a boy in Wheaton,
he commanded the neighborhood army during its skirmishes with BB guns,
down by the creek.
His fantasy world is an homage to the last officer to preside over the
Langan household. The oil portrait always hung front and center, given
an honored place, on the wall above a mirrored case holding his many medals.
A portrait of Maj. Langan.
But there was something Pete Langan could never change about himself.
Though he could go to war, he would never be like his father.Another Secret
In the final days of Langan's trial in Ohio, a mystery woman appeared.
She wore suit jackets and men's ties and made goo-goo eyes at the defendant.
That's my lover, Cherie Roberts told reporters, pointing to Langan.
They were engaged.
Roberts objected when U.S. marshals wouldn't allow her to approach Langan.
She caused a scene.
"I can't even talk to my wife!" she sobbed.
Yes, Roberts explained. In their relationship, Pete Langan dresses as
a woman and assumes the female role. He's a preoperative transsexual.
Roberts met Langan in Kansas City in a group called Crossdressers and
Friends. Roberts is a transsexual too. Langan prefers not to comment.
Roberts told reporters she has her own special name for the Commander:
`I'd Do It Again'
Langan faces a minimum 35-year sentence for his two Ohio bank robberies.
He faces a later trial for alleged assault on federal officers. And he
will be put in the dock in Philadelphia on charges of conspiring to rob
banks to finance the ARA. It's likely he'll be caged forever.
But the Commander has few regrets. As a kid he ran away to prove himself,
and he thinks he has. "I paid a price for it, but I'd probably do
Besides, he's not really to blame for his delinquency. The government
is. Who stationed his dad in Vietnam? Who forced him to grow up amid a
"I didn't need to be in Vietnam in the first place," he says.