Prince Harry has been all over the headlines lately. Last week we--and he--learned that his five-year relationship with girlfriend, Chelsea Davy ended after Chelsea announced it on Facebook. Only weeks before that, footage of the Prince calling a fellow army cadet "Paki" was released. And today, we got our hands on the Royal's very own personal diary, which foreshadows much of the Prince's offensive behavior. The entries below from January 2005 bring us into the mind of a Nazi-uniform-sporting Prince. Come back next week for more entries from our exclusive series, The Prince Harry Diaries.
January 6
Dear Diary,
I am so excited from my mate's birthday. My friend, who is also named Harry, is turning 22 and his dad Richard Meade is throwing the party. It's a costume party. And the theme is bloody brilliant: Colonials and natives. I don't know what to be. The possibilities are endless... I could go in black face as an African. Maybe like a Congolese dude. Oooh, I'll see if William will dress up as King Leopold and hold a pair of fake hands. I would somehow have to create stumps for my hands. That would be fantastic. Or we could be an apartheid duo... What else... I could be an Indian (feather, not dot) and William could be an American and could carry a blanket and I could have pox all over my body. Of course a dot Indian and a British character would really hit home, and grandmama would love it. She always says that if we were still looking after India, "those pakis and wogs" wouldn't be killing each other.
I'll talk to Will. He loves this stuff. His own 21st birthday party was set to the theme of "Out of Africa." Maybe my cousin, Princess Michael wants to come. She would absolutely loooove the theme. She once told some loud and uppity blacks "You need to go back to the colonies." I wish I had been there to see it!
January 7
Dear Diary,
Yay! tomorrow we are going to the costume shop. Will doesn't seem to be into my ideas. He's such a bore. Whatever, I don't need him. I'll just be a Zulu on my own.
January 8,
Dear Diary,
I asked where their Zulu costume area was, but they didn't have any. They must have been sold out. Probably for the best because every time I'm in black face I regret it. It makes me sweat like mad. And I found my dream costume. I was so excited when I saw it! A Nazi outfit, complete with a beautiful red swastika armband. Now I know that Nazi's aren't exactly colonial, but I couldn't resist the costume. Plus it was a bargain. The uniform cost 25 pounds with a 20 deposit. But I Jewed the guy down to a 15 deposit. I am lucky I got that costume. Apparently Nazis costumes are really popular. Too bad cousin Michael can't come. She would love my costume. Her dad was a Nazi. Literally, a member of the Nazi Party.
By the way, you won't believe what costume my brother bought today. A leotard! He's such a poof. I guess he's going as some sort of animal because it also has a leopard-skin tail, leopard-skin paws and a leopard-skin pattern sewn into the coat. I told William he should at least have a bloody decapitated head of a native to carry around. It seems gauche to go to party and not respect the theme. I mean, I may be a Nazi, but at least I'm a human being. And we do have a royal family to represent, so one can't be too careful when it comes to these things.
January 9, 2005
Dear Diary,
Wow. It's 4PM and I just woke up. I'm totally naked, but somehow my Swatstika arm band is still on. Not sure how that happened. Anyway, I stayed out til 5. I'm a bit hungover and blacked out as I do every weekend. But I can still remember parts of the night. The party was soooooo fun. No surprise since all of Richard Meade's parties are. In a clever move, the marquee was black at one end, white at the other. My costume was the best and most unique. People definitely loved it. Some people didn't know what to say. They were quite speechless. Others were pointing at me, because they had to make sure their friends caught a glimpse of the brilliant Nazi. Thank God I didn't dress up as an Indian (the savage scalper kind, not the docile IT kind) or a raghead because a lot of people were wearing feathers and a bunch were wearing Keffiyas. My head hurts. I think I'll go back to sleep.
January 10
Dear Diary,
Uh oh. My dad says he needs to talk to me about a costume party I went to which has landed me in "royal trouble." His pun's are so annoying! I have no idea what he's talking about. I'm racking my brain. I really can't figure out what in the world I could be in trouble for. Think Harry! Think! I'll be back soon.--
--OK. I'm back. I've come up with a list of things I could possible be in trouble for. They all seem rather unlikely but it could be
a) staying out til 5.
b) drinking too much (I can't remember how many cranberry and vodkas I downed)
c) smoking (I told him the old man I had quit)
d) being seen with that trollop on my lap.
But I always do the above and dad never cares. So I don't understand. Let me ask William. I'll be back--
--OK I'm back. My poof of a brother thinks it's something about the costume. Of course! 'm so daft sometimes. I never should have dressed up like a Nazi. That is such an inappropriate costume because they really are not colonialists. But It's the costume store's fault for having such a limited natives section.
January 11
Dear Diary,
Uh oh. So I was right and wrong. It WAS the costume. But it wasn't the colonialism misnomer. Apparently some Jews got their yarmulkes all up in a bunch over the Nazi costume. I wish William had told me that the whole dressing up as a Nazi thing (at least in public) is not kosher. How was I supposed to know? That's what big brothers are SUPPOSED to be there for. I think Will tricked me. He must have known it was a delicate situation, which is why he went with a bloody leopard costume. What a bloody cop-out!
Also, it's really awkward because there's some celebration of a big Jewish festival that is happening and my grandmother and father were going to be part of it. I told my dad I'm sorry. He said that wasn't enough. So I released this statement "I am very sorry if I have caused any offense or embarrassment to anyone. It was a poor choice of costume and I apologize." That should suffice. Besides, at least I'm not as bad as grandpa who asked some Abos if "Aborigines, still throw spears at each other." Why didn't he have to apologize?
January 12
Dear Diary,
OMG! My dad wants to send me to a concentration camp! You will never believe this. So I thought Auschwitz was a Jewish holiday. But it turns out it's some alleged concentration camp. So that Jewish Holiday thing I was talking about. that's coming up it's not a Jewish Festival, it's the liberation of Auschwitz. Oops. And my royal prick of a father actually wants to send me to Auschwitz. I mean, not like that, just to visit to learn about this holocaust thing. That sounds sooooo depressing and boring. I might as well kill myself. I don't understand why all these Jewish groups are getting so upset. It's like they're scapegoating me. I'm being persecuted. And it's not just the Jews. It's like everyone is jumping on the anti-Harry bandwagon, including my father. It is scary to see people start hating someone for now reason just because everyone else is doing it.
January 14th
Dear Diary,
Luckily, there are some brave martyrs who are speaking out against my persecution. Princess Michael said she wanted to but my family wouldn't let her. So good old cousin Fergie is stepping up to the plate. She said "Harry fine young man. He needs to be supported now... It's time for the press to back off. I know what it is like to have very bad press and be continually criticized-- it is very tiring and unpleasant." It really is! I think the Jews owe ME an apology.
January 15th
Dear Diary,
YES! Grandmama to the rescue. It's amazing how one person speaking out against injustice can embolden others to do the same. My grandmother has my back! There are some whiny Holocaust survivors who want me to apologize publicly, but gran has said that my statement is sufficient. She said she told our spokesman to say "we musn't drag this out just because of some hot-headed Jews". But they decided to take out the Jew part. She said there will be "no more talk of this rubbish and no more apologies." She also told my dad that over her dead body would I go to visit a fictitious concentration camp. Then my dad said "I guess we'll have to wait three months, then." I laughed because it was pretty funny. But I pretended I was crying. Then Grandmama told me to be careful with the Jews. She said they are a wily, sneaky people but are quite good with money and ideas, and writing, and running the world and the media and stuff. So we really can't afford to say anything bad about them in public. Then she gave me a bunch of books by someone named David Irving.