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Millennial

Hospitality

By

Charles James Hall



This book is a work of fiction. Places, events, and

situations in this story are purely fictional. Any

resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, iscoincidental.

© 2002 by Charles James Hall. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in aretrieval system, or transmitted by any means,

electronic,

mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise,

withoutwritten permission from the author.

ISBN: 1-4033-6873-2 (E-book)

ISBN: 1-4033-6874-0 (Paperback)

ISBN: 1-4033-7670-0 (Dustjacket)

1stBooks – rev. 04/25/03



Contents

ForwardAcknowledgements

My Place

Wind Song

Range Four Harry

Four-The Government’s Number

Requisition Roulette

Initiation Rite

Is It For Nothing?

Olympic Tryouts

In Memory of Me

Tumbleweeds

Millennial Hospitality

Doxology



Missteps

Paperback Hero

The Teacher

The Happy Charade

Summer Rain

All That a Man Has

Rite of Passage

About the Author



Forward

I have enjoyed telling family, friendsand the wonderful people whom I hav

met at book signings the story of how th

Millennial Hospitality series came int

being. I thought other readers might liko hear it as well.

Over the last 18 years, from time t

ime when I entered the room where mhusband sat at the computer, I noticed

hat he would quickly shut the screen tha

he was working on. When I asked hi

what he was doing, sometimes he woulanswer, “Nothing” or “Just relaxing”.

Other times, he would say that he wa

working on a book. In May of 2002, h



became unemployed. After he was

month into unemployment, this scenari

repeated itself. He said he was workin

on his book. I said, “Well, you know, iou die tomorrow, there is no way I am

going to go hunting through the man

files you have, to look for any book. suggest that you print some of that ou

right now; I would like to see it.”

Charles said, “Which book did yo

want to see?”“What do you mean, which book

How many books do you have in there,

asked?He said, “Oh, a couple, three.”

Naturally, when I saw some of th

chapters, I was determined that w

should publish it. I felt it was excellen



material and it should be picked up b

one of the major houses, but I knew tha

would take time and since no incom

was coming into our house, we decideo self publish.

The manuscript needed editing badly

partially because he had started thbooks on an old Tandy 2000 and ther

were technical difficulties in retrievin

t. The major problem I had with th

book was the macho language he thoughhe needed to use. My daughter and

were up to the task of editing th

material and Charles was much iagreement when we told him that th

story was so good, the swear word

added nothing and furthermore, deletin



hem would make the book appropriat

for mid-schoolers.

Well, Charles worked hard

mplementing all of our corrections, buhen, inadvertently used older unedite

files to compile the CD to send to th

publisher. I will leave out some of thdrama that followed. It slowed thing

down considerably, and because w

were so anxious to start marketing ou

books, I had ordered 500 copies oillennial Hospitality before I saw on

bound copy. We decided to re edi

mmediately and Charles sat for dayand hand edited some of the wors

mistakes from the 500 copies we alread

had in our house. If you have one o



hose copies, they have already becom

collector’s items.

That was then and this is today, th

day it is that you are beginning to reaillennial Hospitality. We both hope

hat you will enjoy reading it and if yo

have not already read Millenniaospitality II The World We Knew

a n d Millennial Hospitality III Th

oad Home, we know that you wil

want to read them as well.

14 February 2003

Valentine’s Day

Marie Therese Hall



This book is dedicated to the greater

honor and glory of

God

Who created us all, aliens included.



Acknowledgements

Millennial Hospitality is in print onlbecause of my wife’s support and

encouragement. She is also responsibl

for the books title the design for th

cover, and was my chief editor. I amalso grateful to the young men whom

was my privilege to serve with durin

he Vietnam War years.



My Place

As for man, his days are like grass,he flourishes like a flower of the field;

The wind blows over it and it is gone,

And its place remembers it no more.

. . . Psalm 103 15:16

The train station in downtown La

Vegas was beautiful beyond descriptionhat Friday morning when I arrived. I

was an early spring day in the mi

1960’s. I was 20, an enlisted man, jusout of training school, a weathe

observer in the United States Air Force

Homesick, I stood for a long time on th



platform in my dress blue uniform, out i

he bright, hot, beautiful desert sunshine

watched the train as it pulled slowl

away from the station and headed ounto the brown desert to the southwes

oward Los Angeles. I stood ther

watching silently, alone. As the traindisappeared far away into the hea

waves and into the distance, it seeme

as if the world I had known disappeare

with it. At last I turned around to viewmy new world. It was a world full o

flashing lights, ringing bells, money

filled slot machines, blackjack tablesand scantily clad waitresses, for whic

he city was already famous. I coul

hardly have been more eager to ente

his world, by way of its doorway a



Casino Center. It seemed as if I had

nothing to fear except, perhaps, gettin

my dress blue uniform muddy from th

grass in front of me. The grass was halcovered with water from the nearb

natural springs. It formed the beautifu

well-watered set of meadows for whicLas Vegas had been named. “What a

nice relaxing touch of Las Vega

hospitality,” I thought to myself. “My lif

now has it all. It has beautiful, scantilclad women, grass green money, and

money green grass.” Little did I know a

he time, my life would very soon havdesert afternoons spent in desperate lif

or death struggles and moonlit deser

nights filled with white terror. For th



next two and a half years, my assigne

place would alternate between the bas

at Desert Center, and the gunnery range

at Mojave Wells.As I stood watching, an Air Forc

master sergeant in his early 30’s got ou

from a dark blue USAF van parkenearby. He greeted me as h

approached, “I’m Master Sergean

Walters. You’re Airman Charles Baker,

aren’t you?”“Yes,” I responded. “I’m Airman 2 n

Class Charles Baker, reporting fo

duty.”“Place your duffel bag in the van, an

we’ll get started,” he responded. “We

have a mighty long drive down to th

southwest to get to the Desert Center Ai



Base. It’s several hundred miles. We’l

have to make good time if we intend t

arrive before the chow hall closes.”

“I got off at the right place, didn’t I?” asked.

“Oh yes, yes. Of course yes,” h

nsisted. “Even though Los Angeles icloser, the drive into the train station in

downtown L.A. is such a headache

we’d all rather come the extra miles u

here to Las Vegas.”“If the Air Force had permitted it,

could have taken the bus from the trai

station here, down to Desert Center,” volunteered.

“Oh, no! Of course, not!” exclaime

he sergeant. “Those bus connections ar



confusing and the bus ride takes forever

Only someone who really knows hi

way around the southwest should eve

attempt that. The long drive up here tLas Vegas in a government van is no

rouble at all. We’re happy to do it. It’

fun coming in to Las Vegas. We even geo play the slot machines as we wait.

“First of all, I have to make sure tha

ou know your boundaries. I have t

make sure that you know your place. Asoon as we arrive at Desert Center thi

evening, you’ll sign in and be issued

bunk in the barracks. Then Mondaywhen you report for duty at the weathe

station, we’ll issue you an off-duty pass

Your pass will permit you to travel a

far as 450 miles away from the Deser



Center base whenever you are not o

duty. So when you have the time and

money and you are not on duty, you wil

be able to travel in to L.A., San DiegoYuma, Las Vegas, or to any town in

between. You can only travel outside o

hose boundaries if you have been issuespecial leave papers.”

“I understand,” I responded.

“Tonight, our commander, the major

has invited everyone in the detachmeno attend his birthday party at the Deser

Center officers’ club. Today he turned

42. Of course, enlisted men such as yoand I are normally not allowed in th

officers club. Like all enlisted men, w

have to learn our place. Tonight’s party



s special. It starts at 9:00 p.m. Put o

our dress uniform, and be sure t

attend.”

“I’ll be there, sergeant,” I answered.The drive down to Desert Center wa

a long one. I was quite tired by the tim

we arrived. I signed in, found my bunkand just barely made it to the chow hal

before it closed. Then I slept for 3 hour

or so, before getting dressed and headin

over to the officers’ club for the party.The weather detachment was typicall

small. It contained barely 18 officer

and men. I paid no attention when mastesergeant Walters stated, “Not everyone

s here. Sullivan from Mojave Well

couldn’t make it,” or when Dwigh

responded, laughing, “Maybe tonigh



Sullivan’s partying with Range Fou

Harry.”

It was a wonderfully carefree part

with loud music, several young women attendance and lots of dancing. I wa

finishing my third glass of beer when

middle-aged lady came up to me anasked me to dance. Without thinking

responded, “No. I don’t want to danc

with you because you’re too old.” Sh

became quite upset and stomped off. Thparty, the drinking, the dancing, and th

aughter continued late into the nigh

until closing time.Monday morning came. I reported fo

duty at the weather station. Maste

sergeant Walters took me outside to the



parking lot for a short fatherly talk. H

explained that the older woman at th

party, who had asked me to dance, wa

he major’s wife. Everyone else haspent the evening dancing with her

Everyone, that is, except the major and I

He recommended that the first thing should do, this morning, was t

apologize to the major for turning dow

his wife. As we were going back insid

he weather station, the major summoneme into his office and had me sit down.

He closed the door and began i

fatherly tones, chuckling as he did so“You know airman Baker, you’re the

first military man that has ever know

his place and has also shown my wif

her place. You’re the only man here who



Wind Song

What is man that you are mindful of himthe son of man that you care for him?

You made him a little lower than the

angels,

you crowned him with glory and honorand put everything under his feet.

. . . Hebrews 2:6

Springtime was beautiful at Deser

Center. It had rained a few days earlie

and the sagebrush was covered witbeautiful purple flowers.

It was just past 2:00 in the afternoo

on this breathtaking spring day. I wa



sitting in my barracks with the doo

open, looking out across the distant se

of purple sage flowers. I was quit

homesick and I was wondering howhings were back in Wisconsin. Th

winds on this Monday afternoon ha

been modest, but the gusts were quithigh. The door to my room opened to th

ee side of the barracks. Watching the

winds periodically blow huge patches o

desert sand across the sagebrush, I fount to be a relaxing, almost musica

experience.

I was sitting there, quietly engaged ihumming tunes to the music of the wind

when my melancholy world wa

shattered by the ringing telephone

Answering the phone, I said, “Barrack



four. Airman Baker speaking.”

The voice on the other end was th

operator at the Desert Center tower. H

sounded terrified. “Baker! Thank Goou’re there!” he exclaimed.

I didn’t have the faintest idea how t

respond, so I responded humorously“Well, I have so many impostors tha

’ve taken to introducing myself as th

real Airman Baker,” I laughed.

Without laughing, the operatocontinued in the same terrified tone o

voice. “We’re in desperate trouble here

We need you at the weather stationmmediately.”

“I don’t understand,” I responded

“McIntyre is working the day shift today



haven’t heard of any problems

Certainly the major and sergeant Walter

know where to find me if they decid

’m needed down at the station.”“I know that Charlie. I can’t officiall

ask you to relieve McIntyre down at th

weather station, but I’m asking you as friend to do whatever you can to help us

have six F105 fighters trapped aloft i

his wind. They’re down to less than 3

minutes of fuel and we’re all desperateThey can’t land in this wind and the

can’t parachute out. Nobody knows wha

o do. McIntyre has kept them circlinfor hours. I’ve already tried asking th

major and sergeant Walters to ask you to

come in but they refuse. They say tha

McIntyre is the assigned duty observe



and they won’t relieve him of his dutie

ust because I request it. If you just g

down to the station, you’ll se

mmediately what the problem is. Lookmy captain is coming and I don’t wan

him to know I called you. I’m breakin

all of the regulations and he’ll be mad aa hatter.”

Then the operator suddenly hung u

he phone. Curious now, I quickly put o

my uniform and hurried the mile to thweather station. Since I didn’t want t

raise any eyebrows, I quietly entere

using the back door. Inside McIntyrwas working happily in the teletyp

room. He was humming a pleasant tun

as he typed up another one of hi



weather reports.

“How’s things going, McIntyre?”

asked pleasantly.

“Oh, just fine, old man.” he repliehappily. “I can’t talk right now, though

’m right in the middle of typing up thes

reports.”“I see some F105s circling around ou

here. I suppose they probably need t

know what your latest wind report is,”

continued.“Yes, I just gave it to the tower,”

responded McIntyre in his same happ

warrior tone of voice. “I just closed thbase again you know, old man. They’l

ust have to wait until this wind lets up

The winds should be letting up prett

soon. See, these latest winds tha



Sullivan just phoned in from Mojav

Wells? See they are light and variable

all the way up to 20,000 feet. Both th

forecaster and I figure the winds here aDesert Center are sure to let up rea

soon.”

One glance at the weather reportinforms showed the problem immediately

McIntyre had opened and closed th

base more than 250 times since th

nversion broke at 10:00 a.m. thimorning. Every time a gust of win

started, he closed the base. Every tim

he gust ended, he opened the base. Thflight of six F105s was obviously mous

rapped by his indecision. I could se

why the tower had phoned me. Yet



strictly speaking, McIntyre was actuall

conforming to all of the rules an

regulations. The major and sergean

Walters had no reason whatever torelieve him of his duties. McIntyre an

he weather forecaster were basing thei

decisions on the Mojave Wells windreports. Likewise, every report fro

Mojave Wells supported the weathe

forecast and McIntyre’s decisions. Yes

could see the problem immediately.Guessing the planes to be down to les

han 20 minutes of fuel, I entered th

eletype room where McIntyre waworking. There in the privacy of th

small room, I gently said to McIntyre

“You know, McIntyre, I owe you a lot o

favors. You’ve helped me out so many



imes. Remember just last week yo

worked a double shift, yours and min

oo?”

“Oh, think nothing of it, old man.responded McIntyre.

“Well, today, I thought I would do

something nice for you to show mappreciation. I see the afternoon movi

at the base theater will start up at thre

o’clock. It’s that latest spy adventur

movie that you have wanted to see. know you’re probably short on cas

because I know that you help out you

mother back home, so I tell you whaHere’s five dollars. I’ll relieve you fo

he rest of the afternoon. You go see tha

movie you like so much, and I’ll have



clear conscience. It really meant a lot t

me, McIntyre, those times you’v

worked my shifts for me, and didn’t tel

he Major. You remember how I was sosick you had to help me back to th

barracks that one morning. I just need t

say thanks.”McIntyre’s face lit up as he took m

five dollars. “Gee, thanks, old man

That’s really nice of you. I’ll take you up

on that. First though, I better finish typinhis up.”

“I’ll be happy to do that for you

McIntyre,” I said. “You’ll just barelyhave time to make it over to the theate

as it is. Here, I’ll sign in showing I’

relieving you. You head out the back. No

sense in the major and others asking to



many questions. They have thei

problems. You and me, well, we have

ours. You be sure to have fun now.”

“Thanks old man,” happily exclaimeMcIntyre as he signed out and exite

hrough the back door.

I quickly signed in as the dutobserver. I picked up the emergenc

phone to the Desert Center tower. Th

ower operator answered with that sam

desperate tone in his voice, “DeserCenter tower”

Speaking quietly and clearly into th

phone, I said, “This is airman Baker. I’mhe duty observer for the rest of th

afternoon and also for this evening’

swing shift. I want to make sure you guy



know that the base is closed.”

“Charlie, it’s you!” exclaimed th

operator. “Where’s McIntyre?”

“He’s doing me a favor and checkinout the women in the latest spy film ove

at the base theater,” I answered

nonchalantly. “What’s the status on thosesix F105s I see circling out there.”

“Unless you can think of a way to ge

hem onto the runway, they’re going to

have to crash into the desert in 1minutes,” responded the operator. “We

have all of the fire trucks an

ambulances deployed along the runwayobody knows what to do about thos

winds and that blowing sand out there

Five of them are young pilots and nee

winds less than 20 miles an hour and a



east one mile of visibility to land. Th

sixth one is the flight leader. He can tak

higher winds but he still needs th

visibility to see the runway.”I could see the problem immediately

They’d all taken off in the calm winds o

he morning while the base was stilcovered with a bubble of cold air. They

had all taken on a full load of fuel i

case the winds started up before the

could return from Mohave Wells. Whenhey returned from the gunnery ranges

hey discovered that McIntyre wouldn

permanently close the base. Had he donso, they could have all just headed of

for some other place with no wind, lik

Yuma Arizona. Yet, when McIntyre



opened the base, the weather wouldn

actually let them land. They ha

herefore been mouse trapped int

circling over Desert Center for severahours. Disaster was now threatening al

of them.

“How long would these pilots spenn the landing approach, if they did it a

fast as they could?” I asked the towe

operator.

“Two minutes,” was the answer.Checking the wind recorder, I said to

he tower operator, “That’s too fast fo

hese new guys to adjust to theschanging winds. Have all six airplane

use a longer, more gradual approach. I

ou can, make it last exactly fiv

minutes. That’ll give them more time t



adjust to the changing winds whe

hey’re turning and landing.

“Have them make the entire approac

with their gear down. That way, whehey’re flying blind in the sand on th

end of the approach path, their plane

will handle the same as when they werflying in the clear.”

“Roger. Copy,” responded the towe

operator.

I continued, “The wind gusts havbeen very regular, almost musicall

imed. The wind has had gusts to 5

miles per hour lasting almost exactly onminute, then the wind has let up to 1

miles per hour for almost exactly on

minute. When the wind is gusting, th



blowing sand obscures everything, bu

when the wind lets up, the pilot can se

for miles. I’ll go outside on the tarma

where I can feel the wind and still semy wind recorder. Don’t have the plane

enter the approach path until I give th

word. I’m going to have them enter thapproach path while the wind is gusting

Remember, they’ll be entering th

approach path blind. Have them lowe

heir gear while they’re still in the clear“I’m going to time it so the gust lets up

ust before they reach the end of th

runway. That way, they’ll be able toand in that nearly calm period whic

happens in between gusts. I’m going t

have them enter the approach path tw

minutes apart, so you may have as man



as three on final approach at the sam

ime.”

“Roger,” responded the operator

“That’s no problem. There are three ous up here.”

“Have the fire trucks and ambulance

re-deploy so they’re marking the exramps from the runway. That way, once

a plane lands, he can clear the runwa

even if the sand starts blowing again,”

continued.“Roger, copy.” responded the tower.

“Remember, each plane enters th

final approach one at a time, and eacplane waits for me to say go,”

reminded them.

A short pause followed as the towe



explained the instructions to the F105s

“Roger,” said the tower. “Right abou

now they’re ready to agree to anything.”

I watched the wind recorder carefully also studied the sand carefully as th

wind blew it past me in an almos

musical fashion. Then, twenty secondnto the blowing sand, I had timed th

gust carefully, I told the operator, “Star

he first F105”

“Roger, copy,” responded the tower.Two minutes later, I ordered the

second F105 to begin his approach.

imed the wind gusts carefully. Fouminutes later, I ordered the third F105 to

begin his approach. As my watch wa

coming up on the five-minute mark, t

my great relief, the existing gust let up o



schedule and the first F105, 1000 fee

over the end of the runway as expected

was now able to land. After droppin

onto the runway as requested, he let hifighter roll to far end of the runway an

exited immediately onto the taxiway.

Amid the cheers from the toweoperators, I continued timing the win

gusts carefully. Now, six minutes from

my starting point, I ordered the fourt

F105 to begin his approach. In likfashion the second fighter landed i

between gusts after seven minutes. I

became almost like playing the pianoAfter eight minutes I ordered the fift

F105 to begin his approach, and afte

nine minutes I watched the third F10



and in between gusts. After ten minute

ordered the flight leader-the sixt

F105-to enter the approach path. Afte

eleven minutes I watched the fourtF105 land. Having no more F105s t

order into the approach path, there wa

nothing else for me to do but time thgusts and watch as the fifth F105 lande

after 13 minutes. The last two minute

seemed to pass like hours as I waited fo

he flight leader to complete hiapproach path. Right on schedule, after

otal of fifteen minutes had passed, th

atest wind gust let up. As the sandcleared, the flight leader’s F105 coul

be seen 1000 feet up, over the end of th

runway. As his F105 was just touching

down on the runway, his engine flamed



out. His fuel tanks were absolutely dry

As the next gust of sand overtook him

his plane rolled safely to a stop in th

middle of the runway.It took several minutes for th

cheering to calm down in the tower. Th

operator came back to me shouting“Charlie! You did it! I don’t know how

ou were able to time it that perfectly

but you did it!”

“Oh, it wasn’t that hard.” I shrugged“It was sort of like playing the piano

Well, I better let you guys handle the

airplanes. I need to get things cleaned uparound here. Remember, the base i

closed until at least midnight.”

With that I said good-bye and hung up



he phone. Then I busied myself with m

routine duties. As I was filing th

weather reports on the forecaster’

viewing board, I wondered, “Why arhe winds reported from Mojave Well

so different from the winds blowin

outside?”A short time passed, probably twent

minutes. As I was working I noticed an

Air Force maintenance truck drive up i

front of the weather station. A birdcolonel stepped angrily out of the truc

and strode forcefully up to the door o

he weather station. As I watched, hgrabbed the outer screen door with bot

hands. Wearing one of the most bruta

expressions that I have ever seen a ma

wear, he proceeded to tear the scree



door from its hinges. Then, once th

door had been thrown to the ground, h

proceeded to stomp all over it, kickin

and tearing at it, until nothing but pieceremained.

“Ah, the flight leader,” I said to

myself quietly. “I wonder if he’s broughhis napalm with him.”

He proceeded to forcefully kick in th

door to the weather station-it wasn

ocked at the time-all the timscreaming, “Where is he? Where i

McIntyre? I swear I’m going to strangl

him with both my hands.”Both the major and sergeant Walter

were shocked into action. The major an

he sergeant came running in to th



observer’s section and began shouting

“Where’s McIntyre? Where’

McIntyre?”

Just then the bird colonel succeeded ibreaking through the front door

physically kicking it into pieces as h

smashed through its last remains. I coulsee that the colonel had some prett

definite ideas regarding the rest of th

station’s interior decorating as h

stomped into the observing portion of thstation-violently smashing a woode

chair on the floor as he did so.

Gripping a piece of the brokewooden chair leg in his right fist, h

urned to the major, who was stil

shouting at me, “Where’s McIntyre?

and pointing to me. The colone



screamed, “He’s not McIntyre, you idiot

He’s the only reason that any of us ar

still alive! He’s the one getting th

medal I’m demanding the Air Forcdeliver for this fine mess! Now where i

hat scrawny little weather observer tha

kept me and my men trapped up there fohe last four hours?”

I could see the colonel was a fin

man-created a little lower than angels,

suppose-but all in all, still a pretty finman.

The major turn to me in surprise an

shouted, “I thought McIntyre was thduty observer today.”

Interrupting the major, the colone

screamed, “He was, until thank God, thi



airman sent him packing! Now where i

he hiding?”

“I’m not sure.” I responded pleasantly

“My attention was focused on thaircraft emergency we just had, so I hav

no idea where he might be right at th

minute.” Having just saved six lives, decided that I might as well continue th

rend for a seventh.



Range Four Harry

“What did you go out into the desert tosee?

A reed swayed by the wind?”

Luke 7:24

“Well, Charlie,” said Dwight, putting

down his thermos of coffee, “You’re

going to get your chance to solve thmystery of Range Four Harry. I talked

he major into sending you u p to Mojav

Wells for a temporary tour of duty-TDY-starting next Monday. A TDY up

here lasts six weeks. You’ll love it

You’ll be relieving Sullivan. His fou



ears are up, and he’ll be gettin

discharged in ten days.”

It was another beautiful sprin

morning at Desert Center Air Forcbase. The music of the ’60’s was so

enchanting. I was still proudly wearin

wo stripes. I was just finishing the lasweather report for the night shift. Th

station clock was showing 8:00 a.m. an

Dwight had come to relieve me for th

day shift.“You talked the major into what?”

asked. Dwight was one of my closes

friends. Surprisingly, Dwight and hiovely young wife and children had few

other friends in the Desert Center area

Dwight and I were like brothers. I knew

hat whatever he’d done, he must think



was good for me.

“Mojave Wells, Charlie,” laughed

Dwight. “You know, the Air Force

gunnery ranges up that desert vallenorthwest of us. You’ll be up there the

full six weeks.

You’ll get extra TDY money. You’llhave your own Air Force pickup truck to

drive wherever you want. There won

be any officers around! You’ll have a

wonderful time.”“Thanks, Dwight,” I responded. “Bu

why me?”

“To tell the truth, Charlie,” respondedDwight. “You’re the only man we have

who can handle it. Summer is almos

here, and the ranges are going to be ver



busy. There’ll be a lot of airplane

flying around up there, so you’ll hav

plenty to do. The major agreed with me

but I tell you Charlie, you’re so goohat the major was a hard man t

convince. He wanted to keep you here t

help out on airplane emergencies. Thossix F105s you saved last spring reall

mpressed him. I was afraid he’d sa

“No”. I almost couldn’t talk him into it.

really had to work on him, Charlie.”“Man, Dwight, that was really nice o

ou,” I responded.

“Oh, think nothing of it,” replieDwight. “Really, I did it for myself

First, I got his curiosity up. I told hi

hat you’d solve the mystery of Rang

Four Harry. The major wasn’t going to



agree. That afternoon, he had to go ove

o the Desert Center base commander’

office. When he came back, he agree

with me.“You see, Charlie, summer is coming

on. Old Harry likes it hot. He is certai

o start coming out again. Harry hides upn the mountains during the wintertime

but he always comes out on war

summer evenings. He likes to run aroun

out on that dry lakebed up on range fourYou’re sure to see him. Both the majo

and I, we really want to know what h

s.”“Range Four Harry?” I asked. “You

got me there, Dwight. I’ve never hear

of him.”



“Never heard of him, Charlie.

answered Dwight, using that same cal

voice which was his hallmark. “Rang

Four Harry is supposedly a horse thagot too close to an atomic bomb blas

hat was set off way up at Frenchma

flats back in 1954. It was right after thblast that people started seeing him

He’s been down here, out on range fou

ever since. The radiation burned hi

real bad, so usually he hides up in thmountains. But on warm summer nights

he comes down into the valley an

roams the number four range up aMojave Wells.

“One side of him glows a sof

fluorescent white. No one knows wha



he other side of him looks like

Everyone who has tried to walk aroun

him and look at him from the other side

has gotten burned pretty bad, or attackedEither way, they’ve all come bac

scared stiff.

“If you see him, don’t ever try to walup in front of him and look in his face

Harry doesn’t want anyone to see hi

face. The few people who have seen hi

from the front, say his face is humanike, but very unusual. He is said to hav

arge blue eyes and his head is rea

arge. They say his face looks sort oike the face of a horse, and his tail i

made of long blond hair.”

Dwight’s story was so outlandish tha

t made me chuckle. Dwight acted as i



he actually expected me to believe him.

“A radioactive horse that glows in th

dark?” I asked, almost breaking int

open laughter. “With large blue eyes?That ran away from an atomic bom

blast back in 1954?” It certainly sounde

ike the kind of make-believe story that veteran would pull on a new guy just fo

fun.

“Honest, Charlie, I’ve seen hi

myself, and so has the major.” repliedDwight.

“You and the major have actually seen

his Range Four Harry?” I askehumorously.

“Yes, Charlie,” replied Dwight

appearing to be entirely serious. “It use



o be that the wind measurements wer

always taken from the range fou

weather shack. Range four is the one tha

s so far out there. But, every weatheobserver that went out there, returne

errified. They refused to go out ther

again because of Range Four Harry. Thsituation came to a head three summer

ago, when Rigby and Anderson were up

here. The Air Force was flying nigh

raining missions at both range three anrange four. They wanted Anderson to

handle the winds at range three an

Rigby to handle the wind measurementat range four. Rigby and Anderson

wouldn’t do it. They wouldn’t split up

ike that. They insisted that it was jus

oo dangerous, and insisted that a secon



eam of two weather observers come u

and help them.”

“They wouldn’t do it, even as a tw

man team?” I asked.“That’s right,” said Dwight. “Neithe

Rigby nor Anderson would go out to

range four. Anderson would never go ouhere at all, and Rigby wouldn’t go ou

here alone. Neither of them would eve

consider going out there at night, even i

someone else went along with themThey insisted that Range Four Harr

made it too dangerous.

“That’s not the half of it. Rigby andAnderson would never agree to do

TDY at Mojave Wells unless they were

both together. By the time they wer



discharged, they’d both done three tour

of duty up there, and they were bot

absolutely terrified of Range Fou

Harry. When they were out there on thranges, they wouldn’t even go to th

bathroom alone.

“When the Air Force wanted to do thnight missions, both Rigby and Anderso

came down here and begged the major t

send more men to help them. They sai

hey’d cover range three because Stevand the range maintenance men would b

here with them. The range maintenanc

men are known as ‘The Range RatsThey’re the Air Force enlisted men who

pick up the practice bombs, maintain th

gunnery ranges, build roads, and stuff

They all insisted that the major send tw



more men to cover range four. To a man

hey said one man couldn’t cover rang

four on account of Range Four Harry

Well, the major decided that he and would go up there together to be wit

Rigby and Anderson for a couple o

weeks. He wanted to see what wagoing on. The major was determined t

get to the bottom of it, so he decided tha

he and I together, would cover rang

four.“One night on our second week, jus

after darkness had set in, the major and

were sitting in the range four lounge. Alof the lights were turned out. We were

out there alone, just the two of us. We

had Wayne and Steve, the leaders of the



range rats, take us out there while it wa

still daylight. They left us there, and the

went back in to range three. Steve sai

hey’d come back out for us in thmorning.

“Well, in between wind

measurements, the major and I woulock ourselves in the range four lounge

as Steve had said. We sat there as quie

as we could. We didn’t even say

anything to each other. Steve said that iwe wanted to see Harry, we couldn’

alk above a whisper. Well, we were

sitting there, looking out the windowowards the west when we saw him.

“Harry was just up the valley to th

northwest of the buildings at range four

He was out over that dry lakebed whic



s so open. He was out where there isn

any sagebrush or anything. He must hav

a real smooth gait, because it looke

almost like he was drifting or floatinover the dry part of the lakebed.

“Anyway, he came south, right past th

window. He was only about a quarter oa mile away. I tell you, Charlie, th

major and I both got a real good look a

him. He looked just like a large glowin

fluorescent white horse.“The major was so surprised, h

grabbed my arm, pointed out th

window, and said, ‘Look, it’s Harry!’ ina real excited voice. Well, just as Steve

had said, Harry has near perfect hearing

Maybe the radiation improved Harry’



hearing or something, because as soon a

he major said that to me, Range Fou

Harry figured out we were there. Ol

Harry turned around real fast and toooff.

“I tell you Charlie, when it was over,

was scared stiff. You should have seenhe major. He was more scared tha

anyone I’ve ever seen. We didn’t take

any more wind measurements. Neithe

he major nor I were fit for duty. Westayed locked in the range four loung

he rest of the night. We had the doo

ocked and barricaded. We used thechairs and anything else we could find

When Steve and the range rats came ou

o get us in the morning, I thought th

major was going to kiss them all. The



he major decided that because of th

danger from Range Four Harry, th

routine wind measurements would n

onger be taken from range four. Startinhat morning, all future win

measurements would be taken fro

range three. Wind measurements fromrange four would be taken only unde

very special circumstances, and only i

he TDY observer agreed that it wa

safe to do so.”After hearing Dwight’s story, I had a

real problem. I really didn’t know wha

o believe. On the one hand, his storwas so outlandish. It couldn’t possibl

be true-a radioactive white horse tha

floats, terrifying grown men at night i



he desert? It seemed as if I shoul

respond by laughing until my side

ached. Yet, the problem I faced was

very simple. Dwight had told otheoutlandish stories which I believed to b

rue. His outlandish story of the famou

ady singer who had fallen in love withim at the USO, had survived my cross

examination. According to a biograph

authored by her close relative, Dwigh

was the only man the singer had evebeen in love with. The biograph

ncluded a picture of the singer sittin

with Dwight at a table in a USO.Then, there was Dwight’s apparentl

unbelievable story about one of th

American presidents keeping th

Russian ambassador waiting whil



alking with him and his father. On clos

nspection, it too, had survived m

cross-examination, complete with

picture in another widely publishebook.

Thus, Dwight’s story about Rang

Four Harry caused me quite a problemWhy would Dwight, so honest in th

past, be making up such an outlandis

story now. We both knew that all I had

o do to check up on Dwight’s story wao ask the major.

After thinking about Dwight’s storie

carefully, I decided to ask Dwight sommore questions. “What did Harry’s fac

ook like?” I asked.

“I don’t know, Charlie,” responded



Dwight. “I never got to see it. Anderso

said he saw Harry in the daylight on

ime. He said he had a large head wit

chalky white skin and large blue eyes.”“You say that Harry has blonde hair?”

continued.

“I never actually got to see his hair,responded Dwight. “But Anderson said

hat the day he saw Harry out in th

sunlight, Harry had nearly transparen

white blonde hair.”“But you said you actually saw

Harry?” I inquired.

“Yes, yes, I actually saw him,” saidDwight seriously, “So did the major.”

“Tell me again what you saw.” I said.

“Well,” said Dwight, “He gave off a

soft fluorescent white light. The ligh



hurts your eyes when you look into it

even though the light isn’t very brigh

He didn’t make any sound when h

moved. He was about a quarter of a miloff when he was close. He came fro

he northwest, up along the mountains

Then, when he left, he went back uphere from where he came.”

“But the lakebed is dry. Is there an

grass or water up that way for a horse t

ive on?” I asked.“No. None for at least forty miles,

said Dwight. “But Harry doesn’t nee

grass and water to live on.”“He doesn’t?” I responded.

“No,” said Dwight. “At least that’

what Steve says. Steve says Harry get



his food and water from some place rea

far away, so he doesn’t need any whe

he’s around here.”

I thought about things for a minuterying hard not to laugh. Then

continued. “Rigby and Anderson, the

got their discharge from the Air Force couple of years ago, didn’t they?”

“Yes, they’re long gone,” said

Dwight. “Sullivan has been up there th

ongest of anyone since then.”“When did they first start seein

Range Four Harry?” I asked.

“Well,” said Dwight, “Rigby was onhis first tour of duty at Mojave Well

when Harry first terrified him. He wen

out to range four before dawn ever

morning in order to take the mornin



balloon run. One warm summer morning

Harry came down from the mountain

and part way across the dry lakebed

Rigby said Harry stopped about quarter of a mile off. He said Harry jus

stood looking at him while he release

he balloon and took the winmeasurements. He said that Harry stoo

about six feet tall. He said that Harry’

face looked similar to that of a horse

Rigby said that at first he thought he wadreaming. Then, as Rigby was finishin

his balloon readings, old Harry gave ou

a short whinny, sort of like a horseThat’s when Rigby suddenly realized

hat whatever it was out on the dr

akebed, it was real. Alone in the deser



night, unarmed, and forty miles fro

anywhere, Rigby panicked. Tha

morning, Rigby barely made it back int

Mojave Wells. By the time he made iback into the barracks area, he was s

errified he could hardly drive anymore.

“After that, Rigby was so terrified oHarry that he’d never go out into th

desert until after sunup. Even then, he’

always take a range rat, or one of th

cooks with him for protection. Halways carried a loaded pistol with hi

when he went out there. Sometimes h

couldn’t find a cook or range rat to gwith him, so he wouldn’t take the wind

at all. He’d just hide in the base area

That’s why the Major decided to send

Anderson to be up there with him. Th



very first day that Anderson was up

here with Rigby, Harry came again. So

hey informed the Major that they woul

ake the winds from range three onlyand never from range four. Range thre

s only 20 miles out in the desert instea

of forty.“On one morning Rigby was sick, s

Anderson decided to drive out ther

alone. Like Rigby, Anderson came back

absolutely terrified. He claimed thaHarry had snuck up behind him. He sai

when he finished taking the balloo

readings, he turned around suddenly anHarry was standing there, no more tha

en feet from him. He became terrifie

and panicked instantly. He dropped



everything and ran for his truck. Then h

drove the truck full bore back to base

When the range rats got out there, the

found the generators still running, and alof the weather instruments lying righ

where Anderson had dropped them

After that, Anderson, like Rigby, wouldnever go out there alone.”

“But, I don’t understand,” I said

“What about the morning win

measurements? I mean, they’re supposeo be taken from the range three weathe

station. How did they take the win

measurements when they were hiding ihe barracks?”

Dwight responded, “Lots of time

when Range Four Harry was in close

he winds they sent in weren’t worth th



ime it took to write them down o

paper. On those days, they just made up

he winds and phoned them in from th

barracks.”I paused to think over Dwight’s stor

for a few minutes. Dwight waite

patiently. Then, after mulling it over, asked Dwight, “How did Range Fou

Harry get is name?”

“That happened before my time,

responded Dwight. “As I understand iback in the fifties, a weather observe

was stationed up there, named Jackson

They stationed him up there because hhad a drinking problem. Lots of the time

he’d have two or three beers before h

was willing to drive out onto the range



alone, especially at night. He was

good observer, though. The winds h

urned in were usually dependable

Well, one day he was out at range fourHe always swore that he was ston

sober at the time and that he’d been dr

and on the wagon for several weeks. Iwas in the late afternoon. He claime

hat he saw something white over alon

hose mountains northwest of the rang

four lounge. Even though he was stonsober at the time, he decided that he’

been drinking for so many years tha

he’d started hallucinating. So he wanteo see if the white patch was real. He’

been taught in alcoholic rehab to handl

his halllucinating that way. Jackson go

nto his truck and drove over there. Th



white patch just stayed where it was.

“When he got there, he stopped th

ruck, got out and walked up to it. H

was certain that he was hallucinating. Hsaid that it was sitting on a large rock

en feet or so above him. He said

ooked like a thin human, all white-chalwhite. It had blonde hair and blue eyes

t looked down at him sort of the way

horse might look down at him. As

understand what happened next, Jacksoooked up at it and said, ‘Go away.

know I’m having a drinking problem

and I know that you’re not real.’“The white thing looked back and sai

o him in English, ‘I’m as real as yo

are.’



“Then Jackson said, ‘Well, I’m real

and I have a name. My name is airma

first class Jackson. If you’re so real

what’s your name?’“The white thing responded, ‘You ma

call me Range Four Harry.’

“Jackson found it all very funnyJackson began laughing and laughing

Then he turned around and walked bac

o his truck, laughing, ‘I’ve bee

drinking way too much. Now mhallucinations even have names.’”

I spent the next several minute

aughing myself. Then, teasing Dwighslightly, still in total disbelief, I asked

“There’s one thing I don’t understand

Dwight. If Range Four Harry makes it s



dangerous to go out on the ranges alon

at night, why am I being sent up ther

alone? Won’t I have to drive out there a

3:15 a.m. in the morning to measure thwinds, too?”

“Right now, Sullivan always take

some cooks and range rats with hiwhen he goes out there. He never goe

out there alone. You’ll be up there with

Sullivan for the first week. You decide

what to do after that. If you need helpike Rigby and Anderson needed help

ust phone me up. I’ll explain it to th

major.” Then Dwight became verserious, and said, “Remember, Charlie

when you’re up there, you can tell m

anything. I’ll believe you. You can cal

me up any time, even at home. You can



ell me anything. Don’t go taking an

risks. I really did see Harry. He’

perfectly real. If you go out there afte

him, he really will burn you, just like hburned John Zimmerman two years ago

Zimmerman got a medical discharg

because of it. If you decide to make uhe morning winds like Rigby an

Anderson used to, when you phone the

n to me, use the word ‘very’. Just sa

hey’re the very early morning windsThat way I’ll know they’re made up

Then I’ll go look at the wind charts an

make sure they look right, just like I useo do for Rigby and Anderson. If th

winds haven’t been made up, then don

use the word ‘very’. Just say they’re th



morning winds.”

“That’s really nice of you Dwight. I’l

remember that in case I ever need it,”

said sincerely. With that I told Dwigh’d be seeing him later and signed out a

duty weather observer.

Letting the station screen door slabehind me, I began the long hike back t

my barracks. I was walking across th

parking lot when my friend Michae

drove up beside me. Michael was still iraining. So, he was also working th

day shift.

“Hi, Charlie,” exclaimed Michaehappily. “It’s good to see you.”

“Michael,” I answered. “How ar

ou?”

Michael, as usual, couldn’t miss a



opportunity to mention his beautifu

ounger sister Pamela. He and Pamel

were alone in this world. They had n

other living blood relatives. Theinatural parents had both been killed i

separate car accidents when Michae

was six. They were both determined tstay together, even after they were bot

married. It would all work out so simpl

f Pamela could arrange to marry one o

Michael’s friends. One of Michael’worst kept secrets was his hope tha

Pamela and I would get married. “I’

running late this morning, Charlie. I hao drop my wife and sister off at wor

downtown. That traffic down by th

courthouse is terrible. What’s happenin



with you?” he responded. He wa

obviously happy that he had arrived i

ime to talk with me.

“Well, according to Dwight, I’ll bestarting a TDY up at Mojave Wells nex

week,” I said. “Dwight was telling m

all about Range Four Harry.”“Oh, you mean that old prospector an

his burro that people see hiking aroun

he ranges at night?” answered Michael.

I was quite surprised. Michael and hisister had grown up in Palm Meadows

and had lived in the city all of their life

He’d certainly heard all of the deseregends many times over. “A prospecto

and his burro?” I asked. “Dwight said

was a horse that glowed in the dark.”

“Whatever it is, it does glow in th



dark” said Michael. “That much I’m sur

of. Both Pamela and I have seen it fro

a distance. When I was in High schoo

he place where I used to park with mgirl friends is on that road that goes up

he northeastern side of Mount Baldy

There’s a romantic parking spot uphere, just above the tree line. From up

here you can see all up and dow

Mojave Wells valley. You can see the

stars, the moon, everything. We’ve nevebeen close enough to see very much. H

must have been 15 or 20 miles away a

he time. What I saw was a bunch of sofwhite lights that would float around th

Mojave Wells valley. They weren’t jus

up by range four, though. Range Fou



Harry would prospect all over the place

Besides range four, he’d take his burro

all over range three. Then he and hi

burros would go down by ranges onand two. Pamela said that several time

she saw them come right up into Mojav

Wells itself, even into the barracks areaShe said she saw them float right into th

barracks. Sometimes they would floa

right into the house trailers.”

“But if the lights were so far awaywhy do you say that Range Four Harry i

a prospector?” I asked.

“That’s what my stepfather and mstepmother told Pamela and I,

answered Michael. “When we wer

children and our step parents wer

dating, they said that one warm summe



night they saw him next to the road goin

up towards Death Valley. That was back

n the spring of 1954. They didn’t se

much of him. I guess he was prospectinn the Joshua trees along the road. The

didn’t actually see his burro. I guess h

was in a tent or wearing a sheet. He mushave had his lantern underneath it to ligh

t up, because there was whit

fluorescent light all over the place.”

“Well, Michael,” I stated, “I see it’getting pretty late. I better let you go

Thanks for the information about Harry

’ll be sure to ask Pamela about him, thnext time I see her.”

Michael, looking pleased, sai

mischievously, “She’ll love showin



ou that place up on Mount Baldy

Charlie. Be sure to ask her.” With tha

Michael said goodbye and reported t

work.As I walked back to my barracks, th

whole thing seemed so immensel

humorous. I wasn’t long out of sight oDwight and Michael before my side

were aching from laughter. My friend

Dwight, I thought, wanted so much fo

me to receive the extra TDY pay thaMojave Wells duty paid, that he would

ell both me and the Major anything t

get the Major to send me there. Thehere was my friend Michael. Obviously

he would tell me anything just to get hi

sister Pamela and I, parked in a romanti

spot out on the slopes of Mount Baldy



Yes, I thought to myself, Jesus had

certainly provided me with two of th

best friends a man could have. That ha

o be the case, I thought. After all, howcould all of those outlandish storie

possibly be true?

Yes, I thought, laughing until my sideached. “How could all of thos

outlandish stories be true?” As I walked

slowly back to my barracks, I laughe

until I thought I had pulled a muscle imy left side. Soon I found mysel

aughing too hard to walk, so I had t

rest a while, sitting on a concrete benchat marked the bus stop near m

barracks.

Two days later I was still laughing.



found the whole experienc

remendously humorous. “A radioactiv

white horse that floats around at night i

he distant deserts and scares grown mewho venture out in the moonlight?”

aughed. How could there possibly be

shred of truth to the whole story. Still, did have that one problem. Neithe

Dwight nor Michael had ever told m

anything wrong in the past. Th

outlandish stories that they had both tolme had survived my cross-examination.

That second afternoon, I reported t

he Desert Center base hospital for routine checkup before heading out fo

Mojave Wells. Sitting in the reception

area, I still found myself laughing. Th

receptionist was a young single gir



named Sandra. She was my age. We

were good friends. I had danced wit

her a few times at some Air Forc

enlisted men’s dances and taken her to movie once. As I sat there, Sandr

wondered why I was so amused. I wa

aughing so hard that I was unable trecite the entire Range Four Harry story

However, between laughs, I blurted ou

Zimmerman’s name. At the time

expected that Sandra too, would breaout laughing with me. I could hardl

have been more off the mark. Instead

Sandra responded seriously, “Oh, himHere, Charlie, because we’re friends

’ll show you his file. We keep it in a

special place with the other files o



airmen who have received specia

medical discharges.”

As I tried to still my laughter, Sandr

got up, went into a room in the backopened a safe, and returned with a folde

of medical records. My laughter turne

o shock as she opened Zimmerman’medical folder to a series of fou

pictures. Each picture clearly showe

bone deep burn marks on Zimmerman’

upper left arm and shoulder. Thdoctor’s report stated the burns wer

similar to deep radiation burns

According to the report, Zimmermaclaimed that a white radioactive hors

had burned him. Zimmerman stated h

had encountered the horse out in th

desert north of range four. It also stated



hat Zimmerman had just barely gotte

back into Mojave Wells alive

collapsing from his wounds just as hi

ruck rolled to a stop in front of thmotor pool.

Too much in shock to finish readin

he entire report, I turned to Sandra anasked, “You mean it’s actually true? Yo

mean there is actually something ou

here calling itself Range Four Harry?”

“Yes,” Sandra responded. “Or aeast, that’s what Zimmerman swore a

hey were treating him with morphine fo

his burns. He was in such agony at thime, the doctor doesn’t see how h

could possibly have been lying.”

“You mean that’s what I have to face



when I go out on the ranges?” I asked

stammering in disbelief.

“Yes,” she continued. “And

remember, Zimmerman claimed it camonly when he was out there-alone.”



Four-The

Government’sNumber

Under three things the earth trembles,Under four it cannot bear up.

. . . Proverbs 30:21

“Sullivan,” I whispered quietly

“Wake up. It’s Monday morning. We’re

ate. It’s already four a.m.”

Sullivan lay in his bunk for few

seconds. Then, suddenly wide-awake, h

quickly jumped from his bunk, takin

care not to wake the other six airme



who shared his barracks. He slippe

smoothly into his new green fatigues. H

ook his new working shoes out of thei

box, and quickly put on the new brogansGrabbing his new fatigue cap, he silentl

ed the way to the weather truck parke

outside. His new car was parked next the truck. As I carefully brushed past it,

noticed that the car engine was stil

warm.

This was the first time I had ever meSullivan in person. He hadn’t been o

base when I arrived the day before. O

his, my first morning at Mojave Wells, stood in awe of him. He was the sam

height as I was. His charismati

personality, athletic build and gracefu

manner all left me green with envy. Hi



uniform was brand new, immaculate

pressed, in perfect order, and polished

Sullivan was the very picture of perfec

military discipline.As I followed him to the pickup truck

felt ashamed of my fatigues. Althoug

clean, and only one year old, mine weralready faded, showing ragged edges

paint spots, and an occasional loos

button. I wondered how he had manage

o keep all of his uniforms perfect anspotless. The desert is a harsh workin

environment. He had, after all, at hi

own request, been assigned here for thpast several months. Sullivan made it al

seem so simple. He had, he explained

bought all new fatigues so he would loo



military when he was discharged at th

end of this week. I pointed out to hi

hat the dress blue uniform is th

required uniform for the dischargceremonies, not the work fatigues that h

was currently wearing. He thought abou

hat for a minute, and answered, “Youknow, I never thought of that.”

We were very late getting started. The

first balloon run was supposed to b

aken while it was still nighttime out ohe ranges. However, sunrise wa

already well under way by the time w

began walking towards the weathestation’s pickup truck. It was parked

some distance away in front of th

cook’s barracks. The truck was nearl

new, and painted a nice relaxing blu



with a white roof. Sullivan, for all of hi

perfect military spit and polish, didn

seem to be the slightest bit eager t

actually head on out to the ranges or tarrive on time. It was only my gentl

persuasion, “There’s nothing out there to

be afraid of”, I chided, that finally gohim started, although he did seem to tak

ssue with the way I had phrased m

statement. It seemed odd to me at th

ime. However, Sullivan had spent manmore nights out on the ranges than I had.

The drive out to range three wa

uneventful. It was a beautiful earlmorning. The rising sun bathed th

sagebrush meadows that stretched nort

up the Mojave Wells valley. The warm



desert valley glistened in the sof

beautiful golden rays of sunshine

Sullivan, however, obviously did no

consider the valley to be beautiful. Hseemed awfully nervous. He seeme

distantly fearful of something. I found

surprising. I believed that a man whhad made the drive every morning fo

he last several months, would learn t

calm himself down and to see the deser

n all of its beauty. How else wondered, could a man find the courag

o drive out onto the ranges ever

morning, every day, every night, out intohe darkness alone. Sullivan, however

ust gave the engine more gas. Soon, a

speeds exceeding seventy miles pe

hour, we were flying out towards rang



hree. I felt a little worried at the time

You see Sullivan didn’t seem to know

he road very well.

Soon, the range three gate fell behinus. The buildings of range three loome

out of the darkness. Arranged to form

arge open square, the buildings, som22 miles out in this remote desert valley

exuded feelings of unbelievabl

solitude, intense loneliness, and a huma

ifetime of neglect.The truck glided past the generato

building on the right and, after making

sharp right turn, Sullivan skidded thruck to a stop in front of the weathe

shack. Jumping from the truck, he strod

quickly and powerfully towards th



ocked front door of the weather shack

n total awe of his professionalism,

followed slowly along behind.

Reaching the front door, Sullivagrasped the lock firmly in his left hand

With his right hand, he quickly felt all o

his pockets. Then, turning towards mehe said firmly, “Give me the key!”

In surprise, I responded, “What key?”

“Didn’t the cook give you the key?

He asked firmly.“No,” I responded timidly.

Without another word, Sulliva

released the lock, swiveled smartly ohis right boot, and strode quickly an

powerfully through the beautifu

moonlight, back to the truck. I followe

imidly behind. As I climbed in on th



passenger side, Sullivan started th

motor, and said to me, firmly, and

pleasantly, “The first thing you’ll wan

o do, Charlie, is to get a copy of thkey.”

While I hung on for safety, Sulliva

gave the engine some gas and soon wwere speeding back down the rang

hree road, back towards the barrack

area. As the truck sped on through th

early dawn, Sullivan took out a newpiece of paper and a new pencil fro

one of his shirt pockets. Handing them t

me, he said authoritatively, “Hererecord these winds.”

Taking the pencil and paper, I began

recording as Sullivan continued, “On



housand feet, southwest at three. Two

housand feet, southwest at five.” Then

hinking for a minute, he continued, “No

Make those two thousand foot winds, ouof the southwest at four. Four is th

government’s number, you know.”

“The government’s number?” I askedn surprise.

“Yes,” Sullivan responded. “Th

government’s number. Anytime you’re

making up the morning winds, you wano be sure they believe you down a

Desert Center. You see, Charlie, you’re

up here this morning, so everyone dowhere is expecting the winds to b

especially accurate. That’s why thi

morning we’ll go with the number four.”

“The number four?” I asked still i



surprise.

“Yes, the number four.” Sullivan said

simply. “Three doesn’t have any powe

associated with it. The number threalways seems incomplete. The numbe

five is a suspicious number, you know

obody ever believes five.But four, now, that’s a number you can

rust-that’s the government’s number.

“You know, Charlie, those people

down there really believe in youThey’re depending on you to straighte

his thing out. What those people reall

want from you is the number four. Wehave to be careful not to disappoin

hem.”

I could see that Sullivan was a ma



who had everything well thought out.

Sullivan continued with more number

for me to record. As we drove o

owards base, he proceeded to make uphe wind and the weather report

apparently showing the wind speed an

direction for every altitude up to 20,00feet. Yes, all in all, it was a very

educational Monday morning.

Soon, we were entering the barrack

area. Sullivan pulled the truck into itparking spot at the front of his barracks

Turning to me, he stated simply, “Wai

here. I’ll call these in.”While the truck engine idled, I waite

patiently in the passenger seat. Sulliva

climbed the steps to the barracks. Onc

nside he strode to the barracks phone



Through the open windows, I listened a

Sullivan dialed the Desert Cente

weather station and read the winds to m

friend Dwight. Then, hanging up thphone, he returned quickly to the waitin

ruck. As he climbed in, he announced

simply, “It’s time for breakfast. We’ll beust a little early.”

Sullivan’s personality had a powerfu

effect on me. I had spent the time waitin

n the truck, sitting in envy. I kepwishing I were more like him.

wondered why the Chief Observer dow

at Desert Center, Sergeant Waltersconsidered him to be a man of very littl

character. Through it all, one questio

never occurred to me. I never onc



wondered why a weather observe

completing an extra long tour of duty o

he gunnery ranges, wouldn’t have th

key to his own weather station-or havearned the road out there by heart.

As we headed towards the chow hal

couldn’t resist asking him somquestions. “Where are you from?”

asked.

“Long Beach, California.” H

answered pleasantly. “I was born in LoAngeles. I’m attending Long Beac

State.” Then he thought for a minute, an

added quickly, “At least I will be when get out of the Air Force. How about you

Charlie?”

“Wisconsin.” I returned. “I fell in lov

with the University of Wisconsin a



Madison. I sure get homesick for tha

place.”

“I know how you feel.” said Sullivan

“I can hardly wait to get back tCalifornia.”

Right then, I guess, I knew that Go

had intended for Sullivan and me to bfriends. I knew that God had som

special purpose in mind when he ha

sent me to relieve Sullivan. The fact tha

my commander, the major, stated that hehad received special orders signed b

he Pentagon, sent by way of the Deser

Center base commander, never oncentered my mind. God works i

mysterious ways.

My mind drifted back to all of thos



mornings I worked at Desert Center, al

of those mornings when Sullivan ha

phoned in the winds. On a few morning

he had actually been on the other end ohe line. However, most mornings th

voice reading the winds would be that o

a randomly chosen cook or the aipoliceman, or an occasional rang

maintenance airman known as a rang

rat. Sullivan was a natural born leader

Every man at Mojave Wells liked himHe made it seem so natural to protec

him, and to do whatever he asked.

As I sat there, in awe of Sullivan, remembered some stories that the Chie

Observer Master Sergeant Walters had

old me. Walters claimed that one

morning Sullivan had wrecked th



weather truck while driving back t

base. Walters believed that Sullivan had

been giving an all night beer party fo

his friends, out on the ranges, and habeen driving drunk at the time

According to Walters, Sullivan was so

ikable that all of Sullivan’s friends aMojave Wells had covered up for him

They claimed that someone else whos

name they would not divulge had bee

driving the truck and wrecked iAccording to Walters, the Major had sa

down with Sullivan alone, and ha

privately asked him for the truthSullivan claimed that two men, whos

names he did not know, had been in th

ruck. One of them had been driving



Sullivan claimed that both men in th

ruck were in a panic and tryin

desperately to get away from Rang

Four Harry. The Major, himself, claimeo have actually seen Range Four Harr

out on the ranges. For that reason th

Major ordered that no action be takeagainst Sullivan. Looking at Sullivan,

could see why all of the men at Mojav

Wells had backed him. He was so

ikable. Turning him in would have beeike turning in your own brother.

After thinking in silence for a few

minutes, I turned to Sullivan, and said“Sergeant Walters wants you to show m

all of the different ranges.’”

Sullivan looked visibly afraid. After

short pause, he said, “OK, Charlie. Afte



we finish the one o’clock balloo

release, I’ll take you down to range one

The range rats tell me they’re going to b

out at range two this afternoon. If we sehem out there, I’ll show you range tw

also. Now as for range four, you’ll hav

o have the air policeman and the rangrats take you out there and show yo

around. I never go out there.” Then

hinking for a minute, he continued

“Whatever you do, Charlie, never let thrange rats take you out to range Fou

after dark.” Then, thinking some more

he continued, “Even in the daytimenever let them take you up into thos

mountains northwest of range four-no

even up close to those mountains. It’



ust too dangerous.”

“You mean because of Range Fou

Harry?” I asked.

“No!” responded Sullivaemotionally. “No! There’s no such thing

as Range Four Harry! I don’t care wha

anyone says!”With that, Sullivan slipped into a

emotional silence. The truck bounced up

nto the chow hall parking lot. A

Sullivan turned off the engine, I jumpeout on the passenger side. I understoo

why Sullivan had gotten so emotiona

over range Four Harry. After all, he hadbeen stationed up here completely b

himself. He had been expected to driv

alone and unarmed, out into a very bi

desert every morning for months. I coul



see that he had found a lot out there to b

afraid of.

Breakfast was surprisingly good.

was just finishing my eggs and bacowhen Sullivan, at last, joined me at m

able. Retrieving the keys and sayin

good-bye to the cooks had taken hisome time. Introducing me to the hea

cook who had followed behind him

Sullivan stated, “This is Smokey. If yo

have any questions or if you ever neesomeone to help you in the mornings ou

on the range, just tell Smokey”

Somewhat off balance I stood up anshook hands with Smokey.

Smokey greeted me; “Sullivan will b

going back down to Desert Cente



omorrow after breakfast, Charlie

You’ll be completely in charge of the

wind measurements starting tomorrow

That includes the morning run. My frienSullivan likes you, Charlie. Don’t b

afraid to ask me if you need help. I’v

scheduled Steve to help you oomorrow morning’s run.”

For some reason Smokey’s word

didn’t seem to be sinking into my brain

“But there’s only seventeen or so airmeup here. Sooner or later I’m going t

have to stand on my own two feet,”

protested. “Sullivan showed me ranghree. It’s only a one-man weathe

station. It’s really nice of you guys to

want to help me, but honest, I can handl

he morning wind measurements myself



My friend Dwight told me all about it

What would I need a second airma

for?”

Smokey glanced towards SullivanThen, choosing his words carefully, h

responded, “Well, you know, you migh

need some help for something. Like yomight need someone to keep watc

outside while you were inside th

weather shack, finishing the calculations

Steve is really good at that, you knowmaybe even the best. He’s been here th

ongest. You should take him with you

and let him show you the ropes. Youneed to know how to stay hidden whe

ou’re out there, how to park your truc

behind the generator shack so that no on



can see it. You need someone to show

hings like that, at least for a couple o

days.”

Smokey’s words weren’t sinking intomy coffee starved brain. “If I’m all alon

out in a deserted stretch of governmen

owned desert, why would I want to stahidden?” I wondered to myself. Stil

rying to be sociable and hoping to mak

Smokey happy-chow hall cooks mak

wonderful friends-I responded, “OK. I’lwake Steve up and take him with m

when I get up in the morning.” It seeme

o make both Smokey and Sullivan muchappier.

The late morning and early afternoo

balloon runs passed quickly. Deser

Center needed only four more win



measurements that day. The sagebrus

meadows of range three were a

beautiful in the noonday sun as they ha

been under the morning sun. Sullivawas an excellent, understanding teache

and the time passed quickly. I remembe

feeling honored that Sullivan was thero teach me-even though Sullivan didn

seem to know where any of his tool

were. It is strange how much a few shor

hours can mean to a man.The noon meal and the one o’clock ru

passed quickly. Then, our duty da

completed, Sullivan and I got into thweather truck. Together for the last time

we began the long drive down to rang

one. I closed the door and locked th



here back to town.”

As we continued on towards rang

one, I noticed that Sullivan was drivin

much slower now. Slowing to 25 mphhen 10, he seemed afraid to close th

distance between us, and the buildings i

he sagebrush up ahead. Stoppingfinally, on the edge of the graveled are

between the control tower and th

weather shack, his hands visibl

rembling, it was obvious to me that hwanted only to turn around and hea

back into base. Still sitting in th

driver’s seat with the engine running, hocked his door and rolled up hi

window. Then, despite the heat on thi

hot summer day, he insisted that I do th



same. He stared intently through th

windshield, looking out across th

beautiful sunlight sagebrush meadows i

he distance. In near terror, he asked mquietly, “Do you see anything out there?

Except for the gentle breezes an

beautiful purple sagebrush flowers, therwas little else to be seen. “No

Sullivan,” I said, “There’s nothing ou

here. Do you see anything out there?”

“No, not today,” said Sullivanobviously still terrified of something

“But one Sunday afternoon last fall,

came down here to clean the weathestation. There was an angry white coyot

out there in the sagebrush. I didn’t see

until I got out of my truck and I wa

walking towards the weather shack



Then I saw it stand up on its hind legs

out there, about a quarter mile out in th

sagebrush. It was growling at me.

became afraid. I began running towardhe weather shack in order to get inside

As I came around the corner, standin

here, hiding from me, was a little whitboy. I almost tripped over him.”

“A little white boy?” I asked i

disbelief. “But Sullivan, we’re at leas

25 miles from town. All of this land ipart of the Desert Center gunnery ranges

How could a little boy get way ou

here?”Sullivan’s fear still gripped him as th

error of that bygone day flooded throug

his mind. “I went to grab him to protec



started. Charlie, I shouldn’t have brough

ou down here. It’s just too dangerous.

ust can’t come down here anymore. We

need to leave right now.”“Wait, wait, Sullivan.” I said. “

haven’t seen the weather shack yet.”

Sullivan was already starting to turhe truck around. Convincing him to stop

and let me inspect the weather shac

was no easy matter. However, afte

several minutes of near begging, hagreed. Turning to me he said, “OK

Charlie, but I want you to close the truc

door behind you when you get out. I’lstay in the truck and keep the engin

running. You must understand. If there i

anything hiding around the other side o



he weather shack where the door is,

won’t wait for you to get back in. I’l

stop just long enough for you to jum

nto the back of the truck, and then I’heading out of here. I want you to know

hat if I have to leave you, I’ll go bac

nto base and get help. Then I’ll comback with the air policeman and the res

of the range rats.”

“That’s fair enough,” I said. “But

really, there’s nothing out here, SullivanLook and see. There’s really nothing ou

here.”

Sullivan seemed to relax a little as wboth scanned the beautiful and obviousl

empty stretch of desert that lay before us

carefully opened the truck door and go

out. Closing the truck door behind me,



slowly and carefully walked across th

graveled area between the control towe

and the range one buildings. Turning th

corner of the weather shack, I stoppedstill in full view of Sullivan. There wa

simply nothing hiding there. There wa

no coyote, no lost little boy with clawsnot even an insect. I stood there for

minute, hoping Sullivan would relax

Then I took out the key to unlock the loc

on the door. I walked slowly over to thdoor. I was fearful that Sullivan would

panic over nothing and leave m

stranded out there. I gingerly opened thocked door and peered inside. The dus

nside said it all. It was as plain as th

nose on my face. No one had so much a



opened the door to this weather shac

since the previous fall. According to th

entries in the logbook, no one had bee

here for months.Sullivan began racing the truck engin

and began slowly moving the truc

oward the exit road. I quickly closed thweather station door and locked it. Then

hurrying back to the truck, I grabbe

hold of the door handle and attempted t

get inside. Sullivan was so terrified, had to pound on the door handle to ge

him to stop the truck and let me in. In jus

he short time I had been out of the truckSullivan had locked the door for safety.

Once I was safely back in the truc

and the door locked, Sullivan floored th

gas petal. At speeds exceeding 50 mph



he headed back towards base. Onc

range one lay two or three miles behin

us, he seemed to calm down and I bega

o talk some sense to him.“There really wasn’t anythin

whatever out there, Sullivan.” I sai

calmly. “Nothing whatever. Not a birdot a coyote. Not a snake. Nothing.”

“Did you look out in the sagebrush?

He demanded emotionally. “Did yo

ook way out in the sagebrush, righabove the flowers? Was there anything

out there?”

“I looked all over, Sullivan,” I said“There wasn’t anything out in th

sagebrush. Nothing, there was absolutel

nothing. The coyote you saw. How did i



ook?”

“It had light colored or blonde hair. I

ooked almost like an albino. Maybe

had gotten exposed to some atomic bombradiation or something because it was s

hin. It was standing about a quarter mil

out in the sagebrush, looking at me,replied Sullivan, calming somewhat.

“But a quarter mile is quite a ways ou

n the sagebrush, Sullivan.” I replied

“The sagebrush down here is pretty taland healthy. Doesn’t the sagebrush stand

a lot higher than a coyote? I don

understand why you could see the coyotat all.”

“You’re right,” said Sullivan, “Bu

ou don’t understand. This coyote wa

standing upright on his hind legs. This le



him see over the sagebrush. He coul

stand up that way, walk that way, run

hat way, and everything.”

I really didn’t know what to doSullivan obviously needed time to cal

down so I sat quietly and thought for

few minutes. Nothing seemed to bmaking any sense. An albino coyote tha

runs on his hind legs and protects a littl

ost white boy with claws seemed to b

ittle more than somebody else’s makebelieve nightmare. Yet the scar on

Sullivan’s arm was as real as his terror

really didn’t know what to think.Sullivan drove on some more. Finall

he seemed to conquer his fears. H

started to get back to his old self



Sullivan continued, as though he wante

o confess something. “You have to

understand, Charlie. Nobody believe

me. They sent me out here, alone-alwayalone. I didn’t have a gun, a club, o

anything. Lots of nights my flashligh

wouldn’t work, even with new batteriesThe mornings were dark and cold. I’

not like you. You know what to do when

ou’re alone. You know how to handle i

when things happen and you’re bourself. You know how to scare off the

coyotes. You know how to make friends

with little kids. You know how to makea stand, how to place your back to th

wall and face, alone, whatever it i

hat’s coming towards you at night. M

mother died when I was young. I neve



earned things like that. Then when the

happened, I didn’t know what to do

They nearly killed me. I did the onl

hing I was able to do, Charlie, I brokand ran. It was all I knew how to do.”

Meaning to calm Sullivan, I replied, “

understand Sullivan. I understancompletely. I thought you handled it ver

well. If that claw-mark on your left ar

had cut an artery, you would have died

out here. You really handled it wellSullivan. You really did.”

Up ahead was the turnoff to range two

Sullivan remembered his promise to takme out there if the range rats were there

He stopped the truck at the road junctio

and pointed the truck down the rang



Then, using the forward gears an

speeds reaching the very limits of th

ruck’s endurance, he headed us bac

oward the barracks area. Shouting at mn terror, he screamed, “Did you see it

Did you see it? It was out there! It’s stil

out there! After all these months, I telou, it’s still out there. You must have

seen it. You must have seen it!”

I had to confess that I really hadn

seen anything. It didn’t appear to me thahere was anything out there to be seen

t wasn’t until several miles had passe

under our tires that Sullivan started tget hold of himself. This time, calmin

Sullivan required all of my energy an

attention. The whole experience had lef



me feeling disconnected and confused.

honestly didn’t know what to think

Sullivan’s scar proved that somethin

had happened several months earlier anhe was obviously still terrified.

I remembered that only three month

earlier Desert Center had requestesome wind measurements from rang

one and Sullivan had apparentl

provided them. On one occasion a

Desert Center I, myself, had recordehe numbers while Sullivan calmly rea

hem to me over the phone. At that time

he could hardly have sounded happierYet, there was no mistaking the record

n the range one weather shack. No on

had unlocked the door for severa

months.



I thought things through carefully a

we sped back toward base. I decided t

wait until after the evening meal to as

Sullivan the questions that were forminn my mind. Yes, I decided to wait

However, I had misjudged the depths o

his terror. As soon as he had finishedparking the truck next to the barracks, h

urned to me and said, “Here Charlie

here are the keys to the truck and to th

weather shacks. They’re yours now. really can’t go back out there, eve

again. I’m so glad it’s over. I’m so glad

hey sent you to relieve me. I hope younderstand. I like you Charlie, I reall

do. I don’t know why they sent you u

here all alone, but they did. You must be



careful. When I get back to Deser

Center, I’ll tell them. I’ll tell them yo

shouldn’t be up here alone. It’s too

dangerous. I’ll tell them for you, Charliet’s just too dangerous.

“I’m going to pack my things in the ca

own, now, and go back to DeserCenter. I’ll be leaving you here b

ourself. I hope you understand. I lik

ou, Charlie, I really do, but I just can

spend another night here. I just can’tEven in the barracks, it’s just too

dangerous. You must take care o

ourself, Charlie. You must take verygood care of yourself.”

With that, Sullivan, unlocked his door

got out of the truck, and rushed into th

barracks. Without waiting for th



evening meal, he hurriedly packed hi

few belongings into his car. Within

fifteen minutes he was gone, never t

return. I was still in awe of him and hinear-perfect personality. I hadn’t eve

gotten a chance to say good-bye.

The next morning came. Certain that could take the morning run by myself,

saw no reason to wake Steve. So, b

myself, at 3:15 a.m., I started th

weather truck and headed out towardrange three. Except for the sagebrush, th

shadows, the moon and the stars, ther

was little else to look at. The balloorelease, taking the readings, and phonin

Desert Center with the results, al

proceeded in an uneventful routin



manner. The radio that I had brough

with me received all of the best Pal

Meadows radio stations. Soon, th

nighttime air was filled with the latesrock sounds, and I was ready to phon

Desert Center with the results of m

computations. I was just hanging up thphone when Steve arrived, driving hi

own truck. Tall, lanky, and a near

perfect stranger, I was really touched

when he explained that he had driven thmany miles out to range three, just t

make sure I was all right. It took th

ongest time for me to think of anythingother than to thank him and tell him how

houghtful he had been. Immediately

Steve and I became as close as any tw

brothers.



The next few days passe

uneventfully. By Friday the days wer

beginning to fall into a pattern. I drov

out by myself in the morning and drovn for breakfast. I drove back for mor

wind measurements until noon and drov

n for the noon meal. I went out for thast run and locked up at 2:00 in th

afternoon and headed back into base

Through it all I was alone.

On this first Friday, though, I wasitting quietly in my range three weathe

shack, listening to the radio. It was

beautiful summer day. I had opened mfront door and my side door to let th

summer breezes in. It had just turne

9:00 a.m. when the phone rang. Pickin



t up, I answered, “Range three

Charlie.”

The male voice on the other en

asked, “Can I speak with Sullivan?”“Sullivan?” I answered. “I’m sorry

he’s not here. Perhaps I can help you.”

The voice continued, “Well, ah, whoam I speaking to?”

Before answering, I thought for

minute. Sullivan’s new car, the

confusion over the keys, suddenly, it alfell into place. “This is Sullivan’

friend, Charlie.” I said. Then,

continued with an innocent lie, “Wewent to high school together. We work

ogether on our cars, here at this machin

shop on the edge of town. What can I d

for you?”



The voice, sounding relieved

continued, “Well, I’m the manager at th

apartment house, here where he lives.

was afraid he’d be angry because I’breaking the rules by calling him at thi

number. I’m only supposed to use thi

number if it’s an emergency.”“Oh, don’t worry about that.”

reassured him. “He’s quit

understanding. He won’t be angry tha

ou called.”“I just wanted to tell him the deliver

boy brought some packages for him o

Monday. I still have them here.” Thvoice continued. “He can pick them up a

my apartment. I was going to tell hi

his past Wednesday when I saw him



but I got interrupted. I called him dow

at his regular work number but they sai

he was on vacation today. I know h

said never to bother him at this numbebut these packages are large. They loo

ike they might be the auto parts h

ordered.”“Yes,” I answered, continuing my

nnocent lie, “The heat in Long Beac

was really getting to him so he took th

week off. I’m sure you’ll probably sehim tomorrow.

“When I see him, I’ll be sure to tel

him about his packages.” I continued“Let me make sure I know you

apartment number so I get the direction

right. Which apartment are you in?”

The voice responded, “I’m right her



n apartment seven, same as always. It’

he same apartment he comes to when h

pays his rent. He can stop by any time.”

“That’s right there on the edge of LonBeach, right. The same place he’s lived

n for the last several months?”

continued.“Yes, that’s right,” the voice

answered. “You know, that same place

he moved into several months ago, righ

after he got discharged from the AiForce. I tell you he’s been just the bes

enant, never any loud parties o

anything. We’re just as happy as we canbe with him.”

“Yes,” I answered calmly. “Hi

nerves sure were shot when he got out o



he Air Force last fall, weren’t they?”

“Oh, they sure were,” the ma

answered. “I tell you, something ou

here in that desert scared him bad. Youknow, for the first three months he wa

here, he wouldn’t answer his door eve

f he knew it was me. I tell you, he surwas terrified by something out there.

“Boy, that’s the truth.” I answered

“Well, I’ll be sure to tell him about hi

packages. I wonder if you would do favor for me the next time you see him.

asked

“Sure,” responded the voice. “Whawould you like?”

“When you see him, tell him that hi

good friend Charlie figured out th

puzzle he was working on.” I said. “Tel



him Charlie understands. Then tell hi

not to worry. I want to make sure h

knows that his secret puzzle is safe wit

me.”“Sure,” the voice responded. “N

problem whatever. I’ll be sure to tel

him the very next time I see him.”With that, we bid each other good-by

and hung up.

Yes, I had seen it clearly. Sullivan ha

been terrified by whatever had happeneout at range one. Sullivan believed tha

his life was at stake. He had done th

only thing he knew how to do. Yes, was sure of it, now. Months before, afte

nearly dying out on range one; Sulliva

had trained the cooks, the policeman



and the range rats to take the weathe

reports for him. He had drilled the

carefully to always go in pairs fo

safety. Between his likable personalitand the gifts he gave them, they had al

banded together to help him. How coul

any man, myself included, have refusehim? Then, with all of his base

covered, he simply packed hi

belongings and left for the safety of hi

hometown, Long Beach, CaliforniaOnce there, he found a job and rented a

apartment. He told everyone that he ha

already been discharged from the AiForce. Then he proceeded to live a ver

quiet life until his real term of enlistmen

was up. Naturally, he hadn’t bothered to

ell anyone at Desert Center. They’d



have called it desertion from the Ai

Force-a federal crime.

The following Monday morning came

t was 4:30 a.m. Alone as usual in thrange three weather shack, I was jus

filling the balloon when the phone rang

Turning off the helium supply, answered the phone, “Range three

Charlie.”

The voice on the other end wa

Sullivan’s. Speaking quietly, pleasantlyand humbly, he said, “Charlie, I just had

o tell you thanks. I don’t know how t

hank you. I don’t even know how yofigured it out. It’s just like Sergean

Walters said when my discharge wa

being processed. He said he’d never me



anyone as intelligent as you. I also wan

ou to know that I told them down a

Desert Center. I told them you shouldn’

have been sent up there alone. I tolhem they should have sent tw

observers so that you wouldn’t alway

have to be begging favors from the rangrats, just so you could have someon

else with you when you go out onto th

ranges. I don’t know what else to say

Charlie, but I just had to call you and sahanks.”

“Thanks for remembering me

Sullivan.” I said happily. “Don’t worryunderstand completely. Your secret is

safe with me.”

Then Sullivan continued, “Who else i

working with you this morning?”



“Oh, no one.” I replied honestly. “A

usual, I’m out here alone.”

Upon hearing this, Sulliva

mmediately became agitated. Terrobegan surging through his voice. “You

shouldn’t do that, Charlie. It’s too

dangerous. It’s just too dangerousThey’ll come, Charlie. They always do

Even in the barracks, they always come

They’re curious, Charlie. They’r

curious about everything. They come ihe darkness! How they love th

darkness! They come just to look

They’ll come for you just like they camfor me. You should always have

someone out there with you, to kee

watch-to warn you so you can leav



before they come!”

“Who, Sullivan?” I interrupted i

surprise. “Who’ll come? Who is it tha

comes in the darkness?”“The Creatures!” screamed Sullivan

his voice breaking into terror. “Th

White Creatures!! The White CreaturesCharlie! They’ll come! They alway

come!”

“The Creatures? Who are Th

Creatures? Do you mean Range FouHarry?” I responded in surprise.

“NO!” Sullivan continued, now

screaming in terror. “NO! NO! GETBACK FROM ME!! GET BACK!! YOU

CUT ME!! YOU CUT ME DOWN ON

RANGE ONE!! I WASN’T DOING

ANYTHING TO YOU!! YOU’RE NOT



HUMAN!! YOU CAN’T BE SORRY!!”

Then Sullivan apparently began relivin

some more of the awful nights of terro

hat he’d spent alone, out in the emptdarkness of the desert ranges, so man

months ago. He could be heard droppin

he phone and screaming hysterically“No! No! There’s no such thing! NO

There can’t be! I don’t believe it! I don

believe in you! No matter what you say

have to get out of here! I have to run! don’t believe in you! Whatever I see…

Whatever you show me! I don

believe… There can’t be anything ouhere!! There just can’t be anything!

There just can’t be!!”

Then, more hysterical screaming coul



be heard as he broke down in terror

Someone in the background apparentl

began pounding on his front doo

shouting, ‘Are you OK, Sullivan? Arou OK in there?’ while he continued

screaming, trying desperately to ge

control of himself, screaming, “NOGET BACK FROM ME! PLEASE

GET THEM BACK FROM ME!!” In th

background, the front door could b

heard slamming open, and an older maalking to him calmly. After many long

minutes, Sullivan finally calmed dow

enough to pick up the phone and talk. Hcontinued, emotionally, “I have to go

now, Charlie. You must leave

mmediately. Never go out there alone

EVER-NEVER-NEVER! Just make u



hose winds, and phone them in from th

chow hall-just give them the numbe

four! When you make up those winds

ust give them the number four. Think oourself, Charlie. They’ll believe you

They’ll always believe you! Charlie

They expect it from you!“I don’t know if we’ll ever see eac

other again, but I have to go. Thanks

Charlie. Thanks for understanding

Thanks, for understanding. I’m so glahat God sent you to relieve me, instea

of someone else. No one but you woul

have understood. Remember, Charlienever go out there alone. NEVER! It’

ust too dangerous!”

With that, he hung up.



I stood thinking about what had jus

happened for a while before hanging u

he phone. Then, my growling stomac

reminded me that I had to finish my worbefore I could have breakfast. I turne

he helium supply back on and continue

with the business of taking the morninrun-alone.



Requisition Roulette

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses,

let us throw off everything that hinders

and the sin that so easily entangles,

and let us run with perseverancethe race marked out for us.

Hebrews 12.1

“You know, Charlie, you’re the firs

observer from Desert Center who’s eve

checked out this two and a half ton trucn the two years I’ve been here.” Mar

stated matter-of-factly. Mark was i

charge of the Mojave Wells motor pool



He pushed the clipboard holding th

motor pool truck sign-out sheet acros

he counter at me, and continued i

friendly tones, “It’s a fine truck. It’ll geou down to Desert Center and bac

with those helium cylinders you need

But what surprises me is that you saou need so many. Twelve helium

cylinders is a lot of helium. Each one o

hose cylinders must weigh 200 pounds

but don’t worry. That truck out there cahandle the weight. Just the same, you’r

going in for supplies much sooner tha

any of those other Desert Centeobservers used to. This is just your firs

week up here, and it’s still onl

Wednesday. Your needing the big truck

s mighty unusual. According to th



motor pool records, none of those othe

observers ever used the big truck at all.”

Mark and I were close friends. H

was an exceptionally fine mechanicntensely Baptist, he read the Bibl

daily. When he spoke, he seldom used

swear words. “Yes, I suppose I amMark.” I answered as I filled out th

ruck request form. “But numbers ar

numbers. I’m using a cylinder of heliu

every two or three days. That means ian ordinary month, I expect to need eigh

or nine just out at Range Three. Then if

keep a couple spare and replenish thsupplies down at Range One… wel

welve cylinders just aren’t that many.”

“You’re the weather observer,”



aughed Mark, tossing me the keys. “It’

got gas in it and it’s ready to roll

You’re supposed to have someone with

ou when you take the truck to DeserCenter, but none of the range rats ar

free, so you’ll just have to make the lon

rip in to Desert Center by yourself. Bcareful when you’re loading those heav

helium tanks. That’s usually a two o

hree man job. Remember, the Sergean

who runs the Airman’s club needs theruck first thing tomorrow morning. H

goes for club supplies every tw

weeks.”It was a clean truck, and obviousl

well maintained. After a short wal

across the open motor pool parking area

started the truck right up. I made



quick trip out to my range three weathe

shack, picked up my four empty heliu

cylinders, picked up my log an

nventory books, and headed into townSoon I was off base and heading dow

he highway towards Desert Center.

It was a long drive. Alone as I was, ieft me time to wonder about Mark’

words. When I had taken over as th

duty observer the week before, none o

my weather shacks had much in the waof supplies. The four range weathe

shacks had only 31 balloons total of al

colors-red, white, and black-barely days supply with breakage. Monday o

his week, I had reviewed the old win

reports recorded by the range thre



observers before me. The reports wen

back 10 years. Hundreds of expecte

reports were missing, fragmented, o

ncomplete. Thousands of other winreports were so unbelievable; they wer

obviously not worth the paper on whic

hey were written. In addition, the formand the old logbooks had hundreds o

unusual entries. One observer, five year

before me, whose name was McPherson

recorded that he had abandoned thrange four weather station for his entir

six week tour of duty because he wa

errified by the fluorescent lights that hstated always came from up the valley t

he northwest in the summertime. Then,

week later he recorded that he wa

abandoning all of the range weathe



stations and taking his weather report

from his barracks back on base, even i

he ranges were in use. He recorded tha

he had started seeing the same lights oun the sagebrush near range three. H

said the lights appeared to be followin

him around and watching him from distance. Two weeks of such terror wa

all he could take.

Then there was yesterday. I had bee

familiarizing myself with the MojavWells base dump. To my surprise,

uncovered more than 1000 old weathe

balloons, still in their original shippinboxes, thrown away by the observer

before me. The dates on the boxes wer

spread uniformly over the last seve



ears. It was possible that the dum

contained hundreds more, hidden unde

he landfills and other trash. Yes, it wa

a beautiful day, and there was much tobe considered as I drove along.

Reaching the outskirts of North Pal

Meadows, I negotiated the left turn onthe cross road which led across th

valley to Desert Center. In those days

he city had not yet grown in the norther

direction, and this road, like most roadn Palm Meadows Valley, was a poo

quality two-lane road that passe

hrough open desert. The road was linewith yucca and mesquite. Finall

reaching the far eastern side of th

valley, I entered the main gate to Deser

Center. The trip had been hot and tiring



was eager to finish my business and ge

something to eat. So it was with grea

satisfaction that I finally reached th

parking lot outside the main DeserCenter supply warehouse. It was locate

at the southern end of one of the north

south runways. Crossing the spur raiine, I parked the truck out fron

collected my books and paperwork

climbed the stairs, and strode, finally

nto the reception area of the warehouseA timid, mousy appearing airman firs

class was manning the counter. H

outranked me by one stripe, so approached him in military fashion an

greeted him respectfully. I handed him

copy of my orders that appointed me t



be the Mojave Wells Duty weathe

observer and allowed me to requisitio

supplies on my own signature. “Hello,”

began. “I’m Charlie, and I’m here trequisition supplies for the Mojav

Wells weather stations. That’s my two

and a half ton truck, out front. After wdo the paper work, I can back it up t

whichever loading dock you want.”

The airman’s response was friendl

enough, but he was obviously unable tproject his personality across the widt

of the reception counter. I felt as thoug

here had been a war and he’d lost“Yes. It’s nice to meet you Charlie,” He

answered. “What supplies do yo

need?”

I handed him the requisition sheet tha



had brought with me, and responded

“Here’s my paperwork. As you can see

’m requesting one month’s worth o

supplies. I need 120 neoprene balloons12 cylinders of helium, two doze

batteries with bulbs, 6 rolls of twine

some pencils, tablets, office suppliesand 300 blank weather reporting forms

’d like those balloons to be 20 black

50 red, and 50 white.”

The airman opened the supply recorbooks in front of him. Then he scanne

my requisition sheet and reacted a

hough he’d taken a bullet in the chestStraightening back up slowly, he stated

“The other weather observers didn

request supplies for an entire year, lik



his. They used to come in once a month

or every few weeks, and just pick up

month’s supply at a time. That’s wha

our delivery schedule is based on.”“Well, that’s what I’m doing,”

answered simply. “I’m practically out o

supplies up at the Wells. As my ordershow, I’ve just been stationed up there

and all of the weather stations are nearl

empty. I need to lay in supplies for th

coming month up at range three. That’what this is, the supplies I need for th

coming month.”

“No,” he responded, shaking his headslowly. “Not with numbers like these

There’s something screwy going on

There’s no problem with the offic

supplies, twine, extra plasti



measurement tools, and weather forms

The forms come in packages of 250. We

have thousands of them in the back, s

ou can have all you want, but 12 tankof helium? We have only 3 in stock, and

we’re expecting that to last until our nex

shipment in November. For batteries whave only 7 in stock, and we won’t b

ordering any more of those for anothe

hree months. But look at those balloo

request numbers-120 balloons? That’simply ridiculous. I have 37 in stock

The other observers considered that t

be a year’s supply. There’s a box of 10black, a box of 10 red, and a box of 1

white. I also have a partial box of

white. It was a box of 10 that brok



during delivery. You can have them all

but we don’t have another balloo

shipment scheduled until late next month

and that shipment is expected to be onl30 balloons, 10 of each color. That’

going to have to hold you.”

“But that isn’t anywhere near what need in the way of balloon and heliu

supplies,” I protested respectfully

“That’s little more than a week’s worth

and I use the different colored balloonat a rate that is based on the weathe

conditions at release time. The whit

balloons are of no use against a cloudsky. They get lost against the background

of white cumulus clouds every time

Really, I should be requesting 120

whites, 120 reds, and 120 blacks. Wh



s the shipment rate so low?”

“Now don’t you go trying to blam

us,” the airman responded defensively

“That shipment schedule is based on thrate at which the observers before yo

requisitioned supplies. They wer

experienced, highly trained weatheobservers. They knew the job way bette

han you appear to. You can check ou

all of the supplies which I have in stock

but you’ll have to make them last, jusike the other observers before you did.

can’t change the shipment schedul

unless you’re willing to sign aemergency request form, and describ

he nature of the supply emergency

That’ll be processed through our Chie



Master Sergeant, our commandin

officer, and the Desert Center Command

Post. That’s a lot of work, so think abou

t. Don’t make the request unless yoactually need the supplies.”

“Well, that’s what I’m going to have

o do then,” I answered simply. “I’lcheck out all of the helium, balloons

batteries and bulbs which you have, an

submit an emergency request form fo

he rest. I would also like to request thaou increase the supply schedul

because I’ll be needing 100, maybe 12

balloons every month, not just the 3which you’ve been ordering.”

“If that’s what you want to do, then I’l

fill out the paper work for you to sign,

responded the Airman. “How soon wil



ou be needing these supplies?”

“Well, 37 balloons will cover me fo

only 6 or 7 working days,” I answered

“and the color mix isn’t very good. Can pick them up next week at this time?”

The airman looked aghast an

exclaimed, “Oh no, no. That’s way toosoon. I’ll probably have to get th

helium from Kelly Air Base in Sa

Antonio, Texas ’cause the helium come

from wells in Texas. The first traishipment I can get out of Kelly is 1

days from now. I can get the extr

balloons out of March Air Base in LoAngeles. I can probably have a Herk

bird fly them up here, but that will tak

at least 8 days. The extra batteries are o



a special military design. They have t

come from the factory in Madison

Wisconsin. Those I could get trucked ou

here in a week, but they’re of no uswithout the balloons. On the form, I’l

state they’re needed as soon as possible

and we’ll increase the shipping schedulaccordingly. You can take whatever

have now and plan on returning wit

our truck exactly two weeks fro

oday. The supply shipments usuallarrive before noon, so just to be on th

safe side, don’t come before 2:00 in th

afternoon. That’s the best I can do.”“Ok,” I responded. “Let’s do it tha

way. It leaves me mighty short o

balloons for the next two weeks. I’ll jus

have to live with it. But remember, two



weeks from now I expect to be totall

out of balloons and helium, so I’ll reall

be needing those supplies!”

“Right,” responded the airman. Thone in his voice said it all. He reall

didn’t believe me. He proceeded to fil

out the emergency supply request in thmost disinterested, routine manne

maginable.

I signed the emergency requisition

oaded the supplies he had and remindehim as I was leaving, “Remember, I’l

be here at 2:00 p.m. sharp o

Wednesday afternoon in two weeks. expect that I’ll really be needing thos

supplies.”

The drive back to Mojave Wells wa



uneventful, and punctuated by my anxiet

over my supply shortage. Reachin

Mojave Wells, I immediately headed th

big truck out towards my range threshack. By now it was the late afternoon

was hurrying to deliver my supplie

and make it back in for the evening meabefore the chow hall closed. The range

were deserted and lay covered wit

beautiful summertime desert foliage

which glistened in the hot, late afternoosun. The gentle afternoon winds rustle

he dry sagebrush and the tumbleweed

hat had collected behind my weatheshack. I had no sooner finished backin

he big truck up to the south door of m

weather shack, when I suddenly felt ver

uneasy. I immediately became convinced



hat I wasn’t alone out at Range Thre

and that someone was watching m

every move. Still, I couldn’t quite plac

my finger on why I felt that way. opened only the south door of m

weather shack and rushed through th

unloading process. I didn’t waste anime looking around or stopping to res

t wasn’t until I had returned the two an

a half ton truck back to the motor poo

and made it in to the chow hall that started breathing easier. Still, I couldn’

quite say why Range Three lyin

solated in the late afternoon sun, habeen so unnerving. I thought about it fo

a while over supper. Then, feeling bette

with a full stomach and friends close by



shrugged the whole experience off, an

decided that my nerves must have jus

been playing tricks on me.

The next morning, the 4:30 a.m. ruwent smoothly enough. However,

couldn’t find my favorite pencil. Thi

annoyed me greatly. I knew I had used ihe day before, so after phoning the win

results in to Desert Center, I wen

ooking for it. It seemed only natural t

check the soft dirt out back of my shackPerhaps it had fallen out of my pocke

when I was unloading the truck the da

before. I began by checking the soft dircarefully. The tire tracks of my big truc

were clearly visible, as were my ow

footprints. Then, suddenly, I noticed

second set of footprints. The hair bega



standing up on the back of my neck

Alone in the night, as I was, I was to

stunned to study the prints carefully

Quickly I locked up my weather shackshut down the diesel, double timed to m

pickup truck, and headed back to base

n the chow hall, well fed and far awafrom danger, I became brave again. Soo

was laughing at myself. The print

were probably just those of one of th

oung range rats, I laughed to myselfAfter breakfast I headed back out for th

8:00 a.m. run, and pretended the track

didn’t exist. I ignored them for most ohe morning. Then, after finishing th

11:00 a.m. run, I felt brave enough to

nspect the prints again. I still hadn



found my pencil, and it annoyed m

greatly. In the daylight, the footprint

were just as mystifying as they had bee

by moonlight. Someone who weighemuch less than myself had come out fro

behind the Range Three lounge an

stood for a while in behind the mesquitout back of my weather shack. Then,

appeared that they suddenly wen

running down towards the mesquite t

he southeast. One of the boot shapefootprints, however, held my attentio

for weeks to come. It overlaid the track

made by the right front tire on my biruck. That set of tracks had been mad

when I had backed the loaded truck up t

my shack the afternoon before. That boo

print itself was overlaid by another se



of the same tire tracks that I had mad

after I unloaded the truck and wa

pulling out the afternoon before. Th

conclusion was inescapable. Whoevehad made the footprints, had done s

while I was unloading my truck the da

before. It meant that while I waunloading my truck, they had bee

standing behind the nearby mesquit

watching my every move. I was s

unnerved by the revelation that fomonths to come I would force th

memory of those days from my mind, an

pretend that nothing had ever happened.The next day, knowing that m

supplies were short, I drove my pickup

ruck out to the Mojave Wells base dum



and salvaged as many balloons as

could. The balloons had been in perfec

condition when they were originall

hrown away, and most of them werstill in their original, unopened shippin

boxes. Many still had copies of thei

Desert Center requisition forms taped their sides. Yet, the recovery rate wa

extremely disappointing. Of more tha

1000 balloons that the observers befor

me had thrown away, I was able tosalvage only 25. The balloons were ver

fragile. Between the weather, the time

he operation of the dump trucks and thbulldozer, they were all practicall

useless.

Wednesday, two weeks later, now

operating on my last tank of helium, ou



of batteries, and looking at the end of m

balloon supply, once again I checked ou

he two and a half ton truck from th

Mojave Wells motor pool. I loaded myempty helium tanks, collected my lo

and inventory books as before, an

began the long anxious run to DeserCenter for supplies. As before, it was

beautiful day, and there was much to b

considered. I had been studying the ol

ogbooks left by the observers beforme. One observer, three years befor

me, recorded the starting time for one o

his balloon runs as 8:00 a.m. sharp anhe ending time, for his 10 minut

balloon run, as 9:23 a.m. sharp. In th

ogbook he swore that he had looked a



his watch every minute, but that one hou

and five minutes had passed while h

walked the 50 feet from the theodolit

stand to the front door of the RangThree shack. The following day, hi

entry stated that he, too, was abandonin

he ranges and reporting the weathefrom the chow hall because he’

experienced another incident of the sam

ype. This time, he stated, some of th

tems in his pockets had been rearrangeduring the hour or so during which hi

mind had gone blank, and he was now

experiencing occasional nightmaresYes, there was much to be considered.

I arrived at the Desert Center mai

gate at 2:10 in the afternoon. The guar

at the gate checked my ID as usual, an



stated, “They’re expecting you down a

he supply depot, Charlie.” and wave

me through. I hit the gas, wondering wh

he guard at the gate would be so welnformed. As before, I pulled my truc

nto the gravel parking lot in front of th

main supply warehouse, collected mbooks and forms, climbed the stairs, an

strode anxiously into the custome

service area. As the door closed behind

me, I noticed that two Desert Center AiPolicemen in a military police car ha

pulled into the parking lot behind me.

Approaching the counter, I greeted thimid airman sitting at the other end o

he counter, “Hi. It’s me, Charlie. I wa

hoping that my supplies had arrived.”



“Yes,” he responded timidly. Then he

walked back to an office in the back

stuck his head in through the ope

doorway, and stated quietly, “It’s himHe’s here now.”

I could hear a chair moving, and the

he Chief Master Sergeant in charge osupply came out through the open door

He strode authoritatively up to th

counter where I was standing. He wa

carrying several logbooks and supplrecord books with him. He motione

owards a lower, desklike portion of th

counter to my left. There were chairvacant on both sides of the counter. H

ook one and sat down on his side, so

followed suit on my side. Withou



greeting me, he picked up the telephone

dialed an on-base number, and spok

nto the phone, “I got him here now

Have the Air Policemen wait outside’ll need 20-30 minutes or so to get th

facts straight, then you can come in an

arrest him.”He hung up the phone, turned to me

and stated in an authoritative, sergean

ike manner, “Young Airman. You’re in

big trouble, placing emergency requestfor supplies as you’ve been doing. We

got the supplies that you asked for. We

met those numbers you submitted ’causwe are the best supply outfit in the entir

U.S. Air Force. The supplies are sittin

out back in the warehouse. Now I wan

o know what the real numbers ar



before I have those two Air Policeme

come in here and arrest you. You’re one

oung airman who’ll be spending tonigh

n the brig, just as you deserve. I’vbeen in this man’s Air Force for 28

ears now, and I won’t sit idly by whil

his goes on right under my nose. I wano know who else is in on this with you

and just what you were expecting to d

with 100 or 120 balloons a month tha

ou asked for. I figure you’ve got to bplanning on selling at least 100 of thos

balloons to some civilian store o

something and keeping the money, andhat’s a federal crime. Now if yo

cooperate with me in this, we’ll go muc

easier on you. I figure that you’re young



and someone else has put you up to this

want their names… NOW, AIRMAN!”

Taken completely aback, I responded

defensively, “Up to what, Sergeant. I’vonly requested the supplies that I need t

perform my duties, as ordered. On

month’s worth of weather reports fromhe Mojave Wells Gunnery ranges use

up at least 100 to 110 balloons, and tha

hasn’t changed in years. A tank of heliu

will fill only 10 or 11 balloons. I’vonly requested 120 balloons and 1

anks of helium. I expect to be placin

supply requests of that size every monthat I’m assigned as the duty observer up

at Mojave Wells. I don’t see what th

problem is, Sergeant.”

“What the problem is?” screamed th



Chief Master Sergeant in my face i

angry rhetorical tones. “What th

problem is? Look at me, young airman

Look at me good! Do you see these stripes I proudly wear? Do I look tha

dumb to you? I’ve been in this positio

now for more than 6 years. I have msupply records for Mojave Wells for th

ast 6 years right here in my hands. Now

before I open them up and show you jus

how badly you’re lying. show you tour face just how many lies you’v

been spreading. I’m giving you one las

chance to come clean. Who else is in ohis with you?”

“In with me for what, Sergeant?”

asked respectfully. “I’m not up to



anything! I’m the duty observer up at th

Wells, and I’m performing my military

duties, as ordered. I don’t understand th

problem. We can do the math, and I canshow you that I need the balloons I’v

requested.”

“The math!” he screamed angrily“Yes, young airman. While the Ai

Policeman are waiting to come get yo

and all of your lies, let’s just do th

math!”Taking a pen from my uniform pocket

and using the clean back of th

requisition form, I began slowly, “Well’m ordered to measure the winds out o

he gunnery ranges, at least 5 times

day. Some days I have to take 6 runs

day. At least one of those runs is at night



For those night runs, I attach a batter

and a bulb so that I have a light by whic

o track the balloon. There are at leas

20 night runs a month. I fill the balloowith a preset quantity of helium an

release the balloon into the wind. Then

use the theodolite to track the ballooand compute the wind direction an

velocity. The balloon is destroyed in th

process. It simply rises until it breaks

Usually, this happens about 35,000 feeup. The balloon can never be recovere

or reused. Even if it were to come dow

ntact, it would be unrecoverable. Iwould be miles away from my weathe

station, off in a canyon or on a mountai

peak somewhere.



“I am ordered to do these schedule

runs every weekday… that’s five times

day for five days a week. In addition, th

balloons are very fragile. Approximatelone balloon in every 6 breaks before

can release it. This means that in a singl

week, I use between 25 and 30 balloonsThis means that in four weeks, I a

expecting to use between 100 and 12

balloons. See, Sergeant, that’s what I’v

requested for my next month’s supplies. requested 120 balloons. Actually,

should have requested more because th

weather conditions determine whiccolor of balloon to release. The red an

white balloons are the most useful, bu

black balloons are needed against hig



cirrus clouds. As you can see, m

request for 120 balloons is a perfectl

normal monthly request.”

“One hundred and twenty balloons month is perfectly normal?” screame

he sergeant angrily. “That’s 1440

balloons a year, and you’re callinTHAT perfectly normal? I checked with

hat Major and that Chief Maste

Sergeant of yours over at the Deser

Center weather station! They agreewith your numbers, but I don’t. You may

have THEM fooled, young airman, bu

hey’ll be shoveling snow in hell the daou fool ME with those numbers!”

Opening his supply records, h

continued victoriously, “Here are th

REAL numbers! My supply records go



back for as long as I’ve been here a

Desert Center. That’s 6 and a half years

n that time, 59 different weathe

observers from Desert Center have beeassigned in turn, to the Mojave Well

gunnery ranges. Each one of thos

airmen had experience and training thawould put you to shame! Six of the

were already tech sergeants wearin

five stripes instead of your two. Anothe

welve were already four stripsergeants-the remaining 41 had alread

made airman first class. That’s thre

stripes YOUNG AIRMAN!! You’re thefirst airman second class, carrying onl

wo stripes whose EVER been assigne

up there! Many of those other observer



knew personally. Unlike YOU, THEY

knew what THEY were doing! Look a

he REAL numbers! Just look at them

ineteen of those 59 observers did norequisition any balloons or any heliu

supplies for their ENTIRE six week tou

of duty up on the ranges. Therequisitioned office supplies and blan

forms only! The remaining 41, for th

entire six and a half year period

requisitioned a total of only 185balloons of all colors.

That’s TOTAL for the entire six and a

half year period! You’re using balloonat least six times faster than all of th

other weather observers combined! Now

ou tell me, YOUNG AIRMAN, jus

what is going on? Using your ow



numbers, why weren’t you out o

balloons at least three days ago?”

Momentarily taken totally aback,

responded, stammering, “But I know mnumbers are right, sergeant. Just becaus

all those guys refused to go out on th

ranges and perform their military dutiedoesn’t mean anything to me! I intend t

go out on the ranges, day or nigh

whenever my superiors order me to, an

o perform my duties as ordered. I wenhrough supply hell last week. I was jus

barely able to salvage 25 balloons fro

he dump up at Mojave Wells to coveme for the last few days, but right at th

minute, I’m virtually out of supplies.

need all of those supplies to perform m



duties, just like I said.”

The sergeant paused to think for

minute. “From the dump?” he asked

slowly. “You found 25 useable weatheballoons out at the Mojave Well

dump?”

“Yes,” I answered honestly. “Thereare more than 1000 balloons of al

colors laying out in the Mojave Well

dump. They had to have been throw

here by the observers before me. Mosof them are still in their original boxes

The dates on the boxes are sprea

uniformly over the last seven years. Thadump was started just seven years ago

so it’s anybody’s guess what happened

before that. I salvaged the ones I could

but 25 useable ones were all I coul



find.”

“What are you trying to tell me, Young

Airman?” exclaimed the sergeant. “Am

supposed to believe that 41 experiencedhighly trained weather observers befor

ou, came in here, checked out 185

balloons, carried them up to MojavWells, and proceeded to throw away a

east 1000 of those balloons withou

ever so much as opening up the boxe

hey came in?”“Yes,” I responded simply. “You can

drive up to the base dump at Mojav

Wells and count the balloons foourself. You’ll probably even

recognize your own signature on many o

hose requisition forms. If you’re to



busy, then send those two air policeme

sitting in the car out there. It’s a pleasan

drive, and they seem to have spare tim

on their hands.”The sergeant sat there in deep shoc

for a few minutes, obviously thinkin

hings through. Then he continued, “Ione new balloon is required for eac

wind measurement, as you say, tha

would mean that 59 weather observers

over the course of the last six and a halears, could not have taken more tha

850 or so actual wind measurements

maximum. That is an average of no morhan 13 runs per observer. Using you

numbers, that’s only two and a half day’

worth of wind measurements for eac

six week tour of duty.”



“Yes,” I responded. “Of course,

suppose that it varied somewhat fro

observer to observer.”

The chief master Sergeant begapaging through his records and suppl

catalogs. In the catalog describing th

requested weather balloons, he found clearly typed entry that stated eac

neoprene weather balloon could b

nflated and used only once. He looke

at me and thought about the entry for few minutes. Then he picked up th

elephone and called the Desert Cente

command post. After verifying the rangschedule, usually five or six runs a da

every day for five days a week, he hun

up the phone, turned to me, and stated i



a quiet, gentler voice, “The Deser

Center base commander, and my suppl

catalogs verify your numbers.” Then h

picked up the phone, dialed security, andstated, “I’m canceling the security alert

Tell your air policemen to resume thei

normal duties. They won’t have to arresCharlie. He looks clean to me. Tell them

o stop by here at 8:30 a.m. tomorrow

morning with a camera and some colo

film. There are a few things I’d like theo photograph up at the Mojave Well

dump.” Then he slowly hung up th

phone. Through the front glass door, could see the military police start thei

car and pull slowly away, obviousl

resuming their normal rounds.



Initiation Rite

“. . . Ask the Lord of the Harvest,therefore,

to send out workers

into his Harvest Field…”

Matthew 9:38

“Charlie, we have some fresh bloo

for tonight’s poker game,” announcedWayne on a warm Sunday night.

“Gr eat,” I answered happily. “Who

are they?”“They’re two new range rats just i

from boot camp at Lackland AFB,

responded Wayne. “This one is John



The one over there is Ed.”

“Hi guys,” I answered. “I’m glad t

meet you. I’m the duty weather observe

here on the ranges.Wayne continued, “Guess what

There’s even a third guy coming up thi

Wednesday. He’s a new cook namedMatt. That means we’ll have almost 1

guys stationed up here with us for th

next three weeks or so.”

Then Ed interrupted. “Yes, but don’get your hopes up. John and I wer

stationed with Matt in boot camp. H

had everybody in the squad angry withim. He’s from New York City, on the

Jersey side. He acted like he’s bette

han everyone else. As soon as h

arrives, John and I intend to kick his but



he way he deserves.”

“Well, alright,” I answered. “Bu

remember you have to do it fairly. You

have to do it one at a time, and give hia day or two to rest in between. Befor

he fight you have to shake hands, an

after the fight you have to shake hands.You can’t just go jumping him in the

barracks, either. We all have to agree on

a time and place. First of all Steve

Wayne, Doug, the boys, and I, we needo have our chance to place our bets. We

don’t get many good fights up here so w

can’t afford to let one go to waste. Andmake no mistake, when Steve, or Wayne

or Doug, or I, anyone of us, when we sa

ts over, then its over. You understand. If



one of you is down or something, the

ou have to give the other guy the chanc

o get up if he wants to. If he doesn’t

hen the fight’s over. Then you all haveo be friends. Those are the rules up

here. You understand? You have to fight

t out until you’re all friends!”“Yes,” they both answered meekly.

I finished by stating simply

“Remember, if you break the rules, I’l

personally kick both of your buttmyself.”

Wayne chimed in, “We’ve all seen

Charlie in a good fight. He sure as helcan do it if he wants to.”

Now that we were all in agreemen

he poker game followed immediately

We were all having fun, and severa



hours passed. Soon it was past 1

o’clock on a beautiful desert night. Th

moon had risen, and we were al

aughing when Doug, sitting across thable from me, suddenly claimed he’

glimpsed something white out throug

he window behind me. Getting up frohe game suddenly, he strode quickl

down the aisle towards the souther

entrance to the barracks, and quickl

disappeared outside for a few minutesWhen he came back, he looked a littl

scared, and was shaking his head slowl

from side to side. Steve, without risinfrom his chair asked, “Are they out ther

again tonight, Doug?”

Doug answered simply, “Yes. They’re



n real close. They posted their guard

over by the trees across the highway

They must have parked on the other sid

of the highway, over in that canyon thagoes up into Big Bear Pass, and com

nto town from there.”

Steve continued with his questions“And you’re sure they weren’t out ther

ast night?”

“Yes,” responded Doug. “I’m sure,

checked everywhere.”Steve thought for a minute and the

responded in a calm and serious manner

“It must be the two new guys that arattracting them. They’re so curious abou

everything. When those two new guy

showed up, and with this hot weathe

we’ve been having, I figured they’d star



coming in close again for a while.”

Then Wayne joined in, speaking to the

new guys, “That’s why Steve’s having

all you new guys bunk alone together ihat empty barracks next door. H

figured they’d started coming in clos

again, in order to check out you newguys, go through all of your stuff, an

such-like they did to us when we firs

got here.”

“Yes,” answered Steve seriously. “figured if we kept you new guys close t

us for a few nights, and had you guy

eave your belongings alone in thaempty barracks next door, they’d com

n close, check you out until thei

curiosity was satisfied, and then g



away. After a few nights of this, they

won’t want to take the risk of coming i

his close again. Then they’ll go back t

heir normal way of doing things. They’lgo back to staying out in the deser

They’ll just watch you from a distanc

when you go out there.”Steve paused for a minute, to let hi

words sink in. Then he continued, “Th

only person they’ve ever kept watching

and following around close up, iCharlie, there. He still bunks alone i

hat long double barracks down by th

flight line. Where he gets the guts to dt, I’ll never know. He’s the toughes

airman that any of us have ever seen. Bu

anytime he wants to, he’s free to move i

here with us. Even now, they still keep



coming into his barracks at night, an

going through his things when he’

sleeping. I don’t know why. Maybe,

guess, it’s because some of their kidike him. They’ll do anything to pleas

heir kids, you know.”

I had to chuckle a bit, under my breathsupposed that Steve, Wayne, Doug, and

he boys were putting the new guy

hrough a highly polished initiation rite.

Then Wayne added, “When you goback to your barracks tonight, it’l

probably look as though someone ha

carefully gone through all of youbelongings. If anything is missing, don

et it frighten you. They never tak

anything for very long. They alway



return whatever they take, sooner o

ater. The longest I’ve ever seen them

ake anything is two and a half months

There seems to be some place close bhat takes them two months or so, to g

o, rest up, and come back. But don

worry. They never take money, oanything valuable. They always retur

whatever they take.”

It was becoming difficult for me t

keep a straight face. Wayne continued“Steve, should I go out, check the new

guy’s barracks, to see if they’re still i

here? Maybe ask them to leave if theare?”

Steve thought for a minute, an

answered in a calm and serious fashion

“No, they’ll keep coming until they’r



satisfied. There isn’t anything we can d

o stop them, anyway. As long as they’re

not hurting anybody, there’s no reason to

scare them away. No one ever goes upnto Big Bear pass at night, so there isn

any danger to anyone. Even in th

daytime, I never take that gravel road upowards those old charcoal kilns alone

any more. It’s so deserted, and seein

hose old kilns isn’t worth the risk. Th

ast time I tried that road, was a hoafternoon last summer. I was only hal

way up that arroyo when one of thos

white creatures came out in one of theiscout craft and flew along side my truc

for a short ways, watching me as

drove. I said to myself, ‘Forget thi



noise.’ Even though the arroyo i

narrow, I turned my truck around and

headed back into town.”

I had to chuckle some more under mbreath. The two new troops wer

obviously becoming frightened. The

also appeared to be appreciating thabsent third new guy, more than before

The idea of having a third guy bunkin

with them in their empty barracks wa

definitely looking a lot more attractive.Despite the fact that Steve, Wayne

and Doug appeared to be completel

sincere, I figured they were just puttinon an act to frighten the new guys, an

get them to stop fighting with the absen

hird new guy. Thinking I would giv

Steve and Wayne a chance to have more



fun by prolonging the initiatio

ceremony, I asked Wayne, “What do you

hink they are? What do you think is ou

here? Are they friends of Range FouHarry or something?”

Wayne answered the question with a

question of his own, “Charlie, You saidhat one of your hobbies was readin

flying saucer magazines and things?”

“Yes,” I responded.

Wayne continued, looking me straighn the eye, “Well, Charlie, what do you

hink flying saucers are?”

Defensive, I responded, “Oh, I donknow. I’ve never seen one, so I can onl

guess. I suppose most of them are hoaxe

or have ordinary explanations. If the



were real, the only logical explanation i

hat they would be visitors from som

other planet orbiting some distant star

But space is so vast. The stars are so faapart. I don’t see how they could mak

he deep space crossing between th

stars. You’d have to travel faster thanhe speed of light or else it would tak

1000 years just to get here from th

nearest star. Once here, they would be i

dire need of food, shelter, fuel, repaiparts and other supplies. Alien visitor

from space would be in the position o

raveling for a millennium, all the whilhoping for a little hospitality when the

arrived. I don’t see how that would b

possible, or why they would take th

risk that we wouldn’t be friendly t



hem. Anyway, even if flying saucer

were real and were coming here fro

some other star, there’s nothing out here

n this deserted desert valley to attrachem. They wouldn’t be out here. They’

be in Washington D.C. or back east, o

something.”Wayne became emotional and began

disagreeing. Getting up from his chair

he began pointing up the valley toward

he north. Pacing back and fortemotionally by the closed barracks door

He continued, “No! No, Charlie! You’re

wrong! I know you’re wrong! I’ll telou what I think flying saucers are.

hink they’re out there. I think they’r

right out there in the desert-right ou



here. I think they’re up the valley, up

north of here. I think they’re dug int

hose mountains in the distance-out there

They’re tall and white. They can makhe deep space crossing from one star t

another in just a couple of months. Thei

craft CAN travel faster than light. That’what Range Four Harry is. That’s wha

comes around our barracks at nigh

That’s what you see out in the desert a

night. That’s what is out there.”Out of respect for our clos

friendship, I suppressed my intens

desire to break out laughing openly. found something about the idea to b

ncredibly amusing. “Space aliens buil

a flying saucer, travel 50 light years i

wo months, make the deep spac



crossing, and spend their time here o

earth by watching seven America

solders playing poker in the desert

Could life get more ridiculous?” wondered quietly to myself. Getting hol

of myself at last, I politely asked Wayne

point blank, “Have you ever personallseen range Four Harry, or anything tal

and white-or flying saucers out there i

he desert? Have you ever personall

seen anything close up or in thdaytime?”

I could hardly have been les

prepared for his answer. Steve, Wayneand Doug, all looked at each other. Al

hree of them looked me straight in th

eye and answered together, “Yes.” Then



Wayne continued, “There’s a valley a

he base of the mountains up to th

northwest. It’s an easy drive up there

You don’t need four-wheel drive so youcould probably make it in your weathe

ruck. You take that first pass that you

see northwest of here and go up in theremaybe 50 miles. When you’ve gon

maybe 50 miles, look up along the bas

of the mountains to the north. You can’

miss it. They like to park in that valleydown out of sight. There are severa

springs in that valley. You can see the

springs on your weather map.“One day two summers ago, Steve

Doug, and I were up in there by thos

springs when we ran into them. The

ike to go there a lot and rest in th



sunshine. Steve asked them if we coul

see the craft they came in, so they too

he three of us over into the next valle

and showed it to us. It was about as bias this barracks, only it was mor

rounded and oval. Steve and Doug ha

o stay outside. I was the only one theet walk inside.”

I was really taken off balance. By now

he new guys were becoming terrified.

hought Wayne was just pouring it on tofrighten them. “They let you walk int

heir craft?” I asked, trying to look as if

believed them. “What did it look liknside?”

Wayne continued, “Well, they only le

me step just inside the door. It was sor



of like a passenger plane inside. On m

right was a cockpit like area with seat

where they sit when they are flyin

around. There were lots of gauges answitches and things that they use t

control the craft when they’re flying. O

my left was their living area. They hahings like stoves, and food storag

ockers, and showers. They sleep i

hammocks. Right in front of me, wher

ou first go in the door was this wholpanel of switches with hieroglyphs o

hem. The switches wouldn’t move whe

touched them. They just dischargelectrically. One of them opened and

closed the front door. Another turned on

he outside lights, another the insid

ights.”



“Where do they come from?” I aske

defensively.

“They wouldn’t ever say,” responded

Wayne sincerely. “But Doug thinks theymust come from Egypt because th

markings on the switches looked s

much like the ancient Egyptiahieroglyphs. Steve doesn’t agree, though

He thinks they come here from som

other planet orbiting some distant star.”

“What did the markings look like?” asked.

“Here, I’ll show you,” responde

Wayne without so much as a moment’shesitation. Taking out a pencil and

sheet of paper from his nearby locker, h

quickly sketched the first five, which h



said were larger than the others, an

positioned along a top row just insid

he door. Then he continued sketchin

wo more that he said were part of second row, located just below the first

Pointing to the first, which looked sort o

ike a sketch of the sun, he stated, “Thione controlled the outside lights. Th

next one looked sort of like a doo

opening upwards. He stated that

controlled the opening of the front door.Wayne handed me the paper. I took it

more to be polite to my friends tha

anything. I folded it carefully and placet in my wallet. I was totally mystifie

by Wayne’s statements. I really didn’

know what to say next. Steve, goo

friend that he was, continued, “Whateve



ou do though Charlie, don’t ever go up

here alone. I know they like you, an

all. So far they’ve been treating you wa

different than the way they treated thosother observers that Desert Center use

o always send up here. All of thos

other guys they’d have run off by nowJust remember, they can get angry just a

we can. If you ever want to go up there

always take me or Wayne, or Doug with

ou. It just isn’t safe for anyone to go uphere alone.”

Then Steve turned to Wayne and

continued, “You know, Wayne, now thawe have these new guys here, don’t yo

hink a week from this next Monda

would be a good time to take them out t



range four and show them Range Fou

Harry. We have to show them what they

are up against when they’re out ther

alone.”“That’s a good idea,” responded

Doug. “Range Four Harry’s one of them

They could see him for themselves. Howabout Charlie here? He should go alon

oo.”

“Yes,” answered Steve. Then, turning

o me he continued, “We’d love to havou along, Charlie. You go out there a

night by yourself so much, you’v

probably seen them more than any of usknow they think of you as special. I

ou were along, these new guy

wouldn’t have to worry about the

attacking, ’cause you could just go ou



here and talk to them.”

By now I was really defensive. Fro

Steve’s remarks, I supposed that he mus

ust be intending to scare the new guyas part of the initiation rite, so I decide

o join in. “Why yes.” I answered. I’

ove to go along with you. How do yontend to go about seeing this legendar

Range Four Harry?”

In obvious sincerity, Steve responded

“Well, we’ll do it as we always doHarry’s real easy to frighten so we hav

o be real careful.” Then Steve pause

for a moment while he counted on hifingers. He seemed to be counting i

wos, “.two active, two sleep,.” Then h

continued, “Yes, next Tuesday seem



ike just the right night to go out ther

and look. We’ll take two power wagon

out to range four during the lat

afternoon on Monday. Doug will drivhe first, and I’ll drive the second. We’l

stay real close together so that the dus

from the first one hides the second. Thaway, if Harry is watching from th

mountains, he’ll think that only on

wagon has come out. We’ll take lots o

water and we’ll take lots of sandwicheand things from the chow hall. The

when we get out to range four, I’ll hid

he second power wagon out of sight ione of the hangers. The rest of you grab

everything and get into the range fou

ounge before the dust settles. Harry ha

real good eyesight, so you can’t mes



around doing anything outside. Dou

will keep driving back and forth s

here’s lots of dust to confuse Harry i

he’s watching from the mountains. Oncou guys are in the lounge, open all o

he windows real quick, and then sta

away from them. You all have to staydown out of sight, and you can’t turn o

he diesels, or use the phone, or talk o

anything. Harry has real good eyesigh

and real good hearing, so no one can talabove a whisper. We’ll lock the lounge

door, and then Doug will drive on

power wagon back to base. He’ll drivreal fast and make lots of dust, so i

Harry is watching, he’ll think that rang

four is still deserted. Then we’ll all tak



urns watching, especially thos

mountains up towards the northwest. I

t’s a warm night, I guarantee that he’l

be out there. We’ll see him, you’ll see.”It was now way past my bedtime, so

said good night to everyone and wen

back to my bunk. Soon I was chucklinmyself to sleep. Steve and Doug an

Wayne sure knew how to frighten the

new guys, I laughed to myself.

The next morning, my drive out trange three was uneventful. I was quit

ired, and by the time I arrived out a

range three, I was happy I hadn’t gone tsleep at the wheel. There was som

moonlight, and the desert looke

beautiful under a warm clear sky. I got

diesel started, and as I walked toward



my weather shack, I paused for a few

moments to gaze up the valley toward

he mountains in the northwest. I wa

aughing to myself at the time. Steve anDoug and Wayne had been so clever i

seemed, at making up the story of Rang

Four Harry, hieroglyphs, and all, just toscare the new guys. Still, there was on

hing I just couldn’t quite understand. A

east six different times in the past, Stev

had taken new guys out to range four anight, and on at least four of those trips

hey had all come back in terror. Each o

hose four times, everyone with Stevhad claimed to have actually seen Rang

Four Harry. On one occasion, to a ma

hey all claimed that Harry had come i



around the range four buildings, and ha

actually looked in through the glass i

he front door, into the range four lounge

They all claimed that they had hiddenand prayed, and spent the rest of th

night hiding in complete terror. Quietly,

performed my arithmetic. Counting mfriend Dwight, the Major, and the othe

weather observers who had strang

experiences out on these ranges, ther

were more than 30 people whndependently claimed to have see

Range Four Harry.

As I stood there, gazing out into thdesert and sagebrush which covered th

Mojave Wells Valley, I noticed three

soft white fluorescent patches floatin

ust off the desert floor down in th



valley to the west of me. It was in th

same area where the range rats had bee

working the previous Friday. The chow

hall had delivered their noon meal them. I supposed, therefore, that th

white patches must just be the plasti

wrappings from their noon meal driftinn the wind. The Range Rats ha

probably left their sandwich wrapping

and other pieces of paper laying around

supposed, and now the light deserwind must be playing with them in th

moonlight. Without giving things muc

hought, I opened up my weather shacand proceeded with the morning run.

Later, as I was releasing the balloon,

noticed that two of the white patches ha



floated some 20 miles north and wer

now opposite the range four buildings

At the time I wondered. The whit

patches had drifted 20 miles in 3minutes in a wind I measured at only

miles and hour. “That’s a pretty good

rick.” I said to myself. I noticed that thhird white patch had floated east up th

side of the valley, until it now floated on

he range four road, just three mile

north of me. I didn’t give it muchought. I released my balloon an

continued with my wind measurements

Finishing the run, I performed mcalculations, phoned them in to Deser

Center, shut down my weather shack and

my diesel, and prepared to head in t

breakfast. Just before getting back int



my truck, curious, I decided to check th

valley north of me and see where th

white patches were. Two of them could

be seen up along the base of thmountains, now some 35 mile

northwest of me. I wondered how simpl

pieces of paper and plastic could reflechat much moonlight. After all,

wondered, 35 miles is an awfully lon

way to see anything. The third whit

patch still drifted a few inches above thgravel on the road north of me. Curious

and having 45 minutes or so, to spare,

decided to start my truck and drive dowhe range four road to get a better look a

he soft white fluorescent patch whic

drifted down there.



I started my truck, and eased it ont

he gravel range four road. I decided t

gently approach the plastic, so I staye

n second gear, and held my speed to 20mph or so. The fluorescent white patch

however, seemed to know that I wa

coming. It floated towards me a shordistance until it got to a break in th

sagebrush. Then it left the road, an

floated towards the old ammunitio

bunker located at the base of thmountains east of me. When it got mayb

hree quarters of a mile from the road,

stopped and just floated there, as thougt were watching me. When I had gotte

far enough down the road to be opposit

he white patch, I stopped my truck, an



set the parking brake. I left the engin

running, and the truck in neutral. I got ou

nto the desert evening to get a bette

ook at the white patch, now just over mile away. It was white, fluorescent

had filmy edges, and appeared to b

featureless. However, there was noquestion that it was solid because

blocked out everything behind it. I wa

so convinced that it must just be paper o

plastic that I thought nothing of walkinout into the desert towards it. I als

shrugged off the notion that it must b

ntelligent when it kept retreating frome. Soon I was more than a half-mile ou

nto the desert and getting no closer to

han when I started. My stomach wa

growling in hunger, so I shrugged off th



chase and slowly returned to my truck

The white patch continued drifting o

owards the ammunition bunker. Trying

o make light of my foolish chase, aughed, shrugged, and stated aloud t

he desert evening, “Such is the nature o

plastic.”It took a while for me to get my truc

urned around on the narrow range fou

road. Soon I was headed back to bas

and hoping I made it before the chowhall closed. Along the way I wondered

“Is that what everyone calls Range Fou

Harry? First I’d heard that he was radioactive horse, then a prospecto

with a burrow. Now I see parachutes o

plastic. I wonder what is he really?”



The days passed quickly, and

Wednesday came soon enough. By noon

t was already necessary for me to brea

up an argument between the new cooMatt and the new range rats John, an

Ed. They were all three, young men wit

guts and courage. I left the chow halcertain that the American military wa

still able to control any battlefield

chose to. Then Thursday, I had to keep

hem from jumping Matt in the showerand late Friday afternoon Matt wa

going to take both of them out behind th

motor pool. He was quite a fighter, and believe he could have done it too. Afte

broke up the scuffle, I impressed on al

hree of them that Steve, the boys, and



weren’t going to be denied our chance t

bet on the fight before they had it. Stev

and I had scheduled the showdown fo

wo weeks from Saturday and we stilneeded time to collect all of the wagers.

Late Sunday afternoon, I was walkin

back to my barracks when I saw Madriving in from the desert in the chow

hall truck. I’d been keeping a clos

watch on him and the new range rats.

felt they needed time, and a good scuffleso they could become friends. I wante

o make sure that it was a fair fight whe

t happened. Anyway, I felt certain Matcould take them both, and I wanted tim

o place a few more bets before they ha

t out. I knew where John and Ed were

so I was certain that they hadn’t been ou



n the desert fighting with Matt.

I had watched Matt for some distance

He’d taken the chow hall pickup truc

out into the desert valleys northwest oMojave Wells field-out into the

mountains where the spring fed valle

ay. Locating all of the places where thrange rats routinely asked their noo

meal be delivered, was a normal part o

he on the job training for chow hal

cooks, but he had gone out there aloneExcept for me, Matt hadn’t yet forme

any friendships on base. No one woul

rain him, or tell him anything. Excepfor me, he wasn’t on speaking terms wit

anybody. I wasn’t worried, I just figured

hat sooner or later he’d get around t



having a push-shove match wit

everyone in turn, and in the end everyon

would be his friend. He had grown up i

Jersey City, and had been here in thdesert for a mere 5 days, so I wa

surprised that he had the courage to g

driving so far out into the desert so soonand so alone.

He parked the truck in front of hi

barracks, and was just getting out when

arrived on foot. His binoculars werstill hanging around his neck and the

banged up against the truck as h

climbed out. I stopped him. I noted thahe hadn’t taken any food or water wit

him when he went out into the deser

and I cautioned him. The summer hea

makes the desert a dangerous place,



said. A man has to think things through

before he goes out there. I pointed ou

hat driving with the binoculars aroun

his neck probably wasn’t safe, ansuggested that he should have remove

hem and placed them on the seat next t

him. Lastly, I pointed out that evehough his truck was equipped with

wo way radio, he should have told m

or someone like the first sergeant wher

he was going before he went out thereThen he should have checked in when h

got back. That way, we’d know where to

come looking for him if he didn’t make back.

Matt just stood there, glassy eyed, an

speechless. He seemed to be terrified o



something, and his mind seemed to b

churning inside. Sensing his confusion,

stated, “If there’s ever anything you wis

o talk about, just drive out to mweather shack at range three. I’m alway

here. Feel free to come, anytime an

alk-just anytime.” Then I left histanding there. Later that evening,

ooked in on him. He was sitting on hi

bunk, with the lights at his end of th

barracks turned off. His head was in hihands, and he was obviously sitting ther

n deep, confused thought.

The next few days passeuneventfully, and Tuesday came a

usual. The only problem, from my poin

of view, was that I had becom

exceptionally sick with the flu. I had t



call off my participation in Steve’

planned escapade to see Range Fou

Harry. Nothing would stop Steve

hough. As planned, he loaded Matt, EdJohn, Wayne, Doug, Bryan the Ai

Policeman, lots of food, water, coffee

and punch, into two power wagons anset off for range four just as the sun a

setting. I spent the evening in m

barracks vomiting my supper into th

commode.The next morning, everything wa

normal enough. I was quite weak, bu

feeling better. I was already havinbreakfast in the chow hall when Stev

and the Range Four Harry viewing crew

entered. I had expected them all to b



aughing together. I was quite wrong

Matt still looked wild eyed an

confused. Steve was livid with rage a

Ed and John. “Ed, what were you doinscreaming in terror in that side room?

old you before we went out there that

didn’t want so much as a whisper out oany of you when we were out there. I

Bryan hadn’t told you to shut up, you’

have gotten us all killed. And you John

You IDIOT! You could have gotten usall killed too!” Steve was shouting. Fo

an initiation rite, Steve seemed to b

aking everything a bit far. “You were somighty lucky they chose to run away.

old you Harry was real! The way yo

went walking out there to get a close

ook was the stupidest thing I’ve see



ately. The only person I’ve ever see

who could do that stuff and get awa

with it, is Charlie. He’s the only ma

who has ever lived who they’ll let walup to them, or in among them. Everyon

else that’s tried it has gotten his but

burned but good! Remember, none of us Charlie! We all have to keep our wit

about us. When we’re out there on th

ranges, my word is law-especially if ol

Harry is around! The first rule is that yonever walk towards him. He’ll burn yo

every time. John, do you and E

understand me?”I didn’t know what to think any more

Steve’s initiation rite seemed to hav

gotten way out of hand. Still, I wa



dumbfounded as I sat there. I hadn’t tol

anyone about having walked out into th

desert any of the times I had done so

How could Steve know? The onlperson who knew was me-me and th

floating white fluorescent patches.

Having finished my breakfast, I hikeback to my pickup truck and headed bac

out to the ranges for the 8 o’clock run. I

was a beautiful summer day. Range thre

wasn’t in use. I had just finished the o’clock run and phoned the results int

Desert Center when the chow hall truc

pulled up outside my range threweather shack. Matt got out slowly, and

ooked around in an extremely nervou

manner. I stepped to the front door of m

weather shack and greeted him. Once h



saw me he settled down noticeably, and

asked if he could come in. It wa

obvious to me that he needed to talk t

someone. As an experienced soldier, felt it was my duty to fill the shoes of bi

brother. Happily I brought him in

showed him my place, and gave him thbest seat in the cool breezes by the fron

door.

He started nervously at first. “In th

ime you’ve been out here, have you eveseen anything unusual?” he asked.

“Well, yes, sometimes,” I answered

defensively, “But the observers beforme had many more unusual experience

han I’ve had.” I paused for a minute o

so. Matt was so up tight, I decided to tr



relaxing him a little. I tried to mak

some humor. I continued, “How did

hings go out at range four last night? Di

ou actually see the legendary RangFour Harry?”

“Yes,” Matt answered quickly and in

otal earnestness.“What does he look like?” I answered

still searching for a point of humor.

“Well, after John went out there,

went out there too. I guess it’s not reasmart to do so. I guess you’re the onl

one who is able to do that and live

Steve became very angry. I thought hwas going to kick both our butts. I staye

out there longer than John. I even use

my binoculars, but I still couldn’t se

much of anything. The fluorescent ligh



hurt my eyes.”

“Well, if you couldn’t see anything

what were you looking at?” I asked.

“It was a large soft white fluorescenpatch of light,” Matt answered. “It wa

floating just a few inches off the deser

up to the northwest of the range fouounge. Steve said that if we’d all kep

quiet like he ordered, it would hav

gotten a lot closer. He said that he’

even seen it come in around the rangfour buildings.”

“H-mm,” I answered thoughtfully.

Matt continued, “Steve said that whet gets up real close, you can se

something that looks like people floatin

nside of it. But he says that when it get



hat close, you have to be real careful o

he people inside will burn you rea

bad.”

I no longer had the faintest idea whao think. What I thought had began as a

nitiation rite was now so far out o

hand, that I didn’t know where to put thpieces any more. Hoping to gain som

ime to think things over, I continued, “A

week ago Sunday, when you were ou

driving around, did you see anythinwhen you were up in those mountain

west of here?”

“Yes,” Matt answered in that samentensely earnest voice. “When I wa

way back up in there, I went out to tha

beautiful little valley that’s up in thos

mountains over there. The valley is a



east fifty miles from here. It’s rea

beautiful. It has a spring. The valley i

covered with grass and beautiful flower

and wild strawberries. It even has somfruit and apple trees. It was in tha

valley, located right up against the bas

of the other side of those mountains that saw a flying saucer parked on th

ground.”

“That’s pretty desolate country up i

here,” I responded, trying to hide mdisbelief. “Especially for a young ma

ike yourself, having grown up in New

York City. You’re telling me that on onlhe third day you were here on base, tha

ou drove way back up in there, mor

han 50 miles out into that desolat



section of desert, alone? Once you go

out there, you saw a parked flyin

saucer?”

“Yes,” Matt answered. “The valleyway up there, the one with the spring i

t, is so beautiful. I was homesick, and

reminds me of my home back east. Wellfor some reason, the people in the flyin

saucer didn’t see me coming. It must b

pretty easy to surprise them. When I go

close, my truck started running rough. didn’t know what was up ahead, so

stopped my truck, turned it around an

faced it down hill. I set the parkinbrake, turned off the engine, and walke

he last mile up the road. I found

secluded spot where I could peer ove

he valley rim and look inside.”



“What did you see?” I asked, stunned.

Matt responded, “Well, down in the

valley by the spring sat this large flyin

saucer, with its door open. It was aeast as big as the range three loung

building. It was chalk white an

ellipsoidal. Outside there were theshree white people. They were chal

white, taller than you are, and the

ooked almost human. They had strun

hammocks between some trees. Thewere all sleeping, the way people do o

a picnic.”

After a short pause to control hiemotions, he continued, “They’re a lo

hinner then you and I are. They were s

white and thin that at first, I thought



was looking at some humans who wer

sick, or maybe suffering from some kin

of wasting disease. After I studied them

for a few minutes, I realized that thehad to be people from another planet

and that they were just naturally thinne

and whiter than you and I are. When threality of what I was seeing finally sun

n, and when I realized how alone I wa

out in the desert, miles from anywhere

error spread through me. As fast andsilently as I could, I ran the mile or s

back to my truck. I started the truck b

etting it roll a ways down hill anhrowing it in gear. Once it started,

came out of there about as fast as tha

ruck could travel. I was miles down th

road before I finally started to cal



down.”

Then he became very agitated. Fea

began to overcome him, and tear

starting forming in his eyes.Still struggling to maintain my bi

brother attitude, I asked, “You had you

binoculars with you. If the door waopen, what did you see when you looke

nside?”

To my shock, Matt continued withou

hesitation, in that same intensely earnesone of voice, “Hieroglyphs.”

“Hieroglyphs?” I asked, stunned.

“Yes,” Matt responded, “Hieroglyphsust like Egyptian hieroglyphs. Jus

nside the door was this panel o

switches or buttons. On each switch o



button was a different hieroglyph.”

Stunned beyond description, since

was certain that Matt was completel

unaware of the discussion that I had hawith Wayne during the poker game,

asked, “Do you remember what any o

he hieroglyphs looked like?”“Yes,” Matt responded simply

“Taking a pencil and piece of pape

from my work area, he proceeded t

draw three of the hieroglyphs. Handing o me gently, he stated, “These three ar

from the top row of buttons. The top row

had five buttons that were bigger than thother buttons which were below them.”

The three hieroglyphs that he drew

matched perfectly with the first thre

hieroglyphs drawn by Wayne. Steve’



rite of initiation had now come ful

circle. Now I was the one becomin

nitiated-initiated into a new world-

new world of nighttime terror. A worldso terrifying that soon, I would no longe

be able to deny that it was real.



Is It For Nothing?

. . .one day, when the sons of God cameto present themselves before the Lord,

Satan also came among them.

And the Lord said to Satan,“Whence do you come?

Then Satan answered The Lord and said“From roaming the earth and patrolling

it.”

And the Lord said to Satan,“Have you noticed my servant Job,

and that there is no one on earth

like him… ?



But Satan answered the Lord,

“Is it for nothing

that Job worships God? . . .”

. . . Job 1:6,10

The Mojave Wells gunnery rangewere serene and beautiful places. In th

summertime I enjoyed sitting quietl

alone in my different weather shacks. Ibetween balloon runs, I enjoyed readin

history books and listening to the radi

for entertainment. Sometimes I brough

out paint-by-number sets and spent manafternoons painting pictures of fal

mountain scenes. This beautiful summe

day down at range one, was n



exception. After finishing the 12:30

balloon run, I tuned my radio to som

soft music, reached for my favorit

history book, and assumed comfortable, relaxing position in m

favorite chair.

My range one weather shack wasimilar to my range three shack. The sid

door to the shack opened to the east

Cool afternoon breezes washed gentl

hrough its open doors and windowsThrough the open door, could be see

he sagebrush covered desert stretchin

for 35 or 40 miles down the range onvalley to the southeast. The sagebrus

stood probably four feet tall and was i

full bloom. The bright purple sag

flowers formed a velvet blanket o



beauty. Dust devils were already playin

out among the heat waves. The ho

afternoon sun continued to desiccate th

already dry desert floor. Long andnarrow, bisected by a dry arroyo nort

of my shack, flanked on the far north b

mountains, and seldom used by the AiForce for gunnery practice, the range on

valley existed in beautiful, quiet, an

splendid isolation. After reading a few

pages from my history book, I found iunaccountably difficult to concentrate

For some reason that I couldn’t explain

began to feel very uneasy. Still new tohe ranges, I wondered if I had bee

eating properly. I carefully closed m

history book and placed it on the shel



next to my nearly full jar of drinkin

water. I always kept at least two gallo

ars of water with me, one in my shac

and one in my truck. I realized that thdesert, for all of its beauty, could also

be unmerciful.

Turning my attention to the open doorleaned back in my chair and let m

mind wander. My eyes naturall

wandered out through the open door, and

soon my gaze fell on the beautiful purplsagebrush flowers. In the distance

slightly off to the southeast, perhaps tw

miles away, a group of unseemeadowlarks could be heard singing.

counted as I listened. First one woul

start the chorus; then a second woul

oin in. Soon I could count perhaps 5 o



6 meadowlarks singing from variou

places faraway down the valley. I

seemed natural enough. I frequentl

heard meadowlarks singing in choruwhen I was out on the ranges, sometime

even at night. Usually the chorus laste

only a handful of minutes.The problem I had was that, for all o

he singing, I had never actually seen

meadowlark out on the ranges, day o

night. Today was no exception. Despithe continuing chorus, there simpl

wasn’t a bird in sight.

My mind wandered a little. The gentlbreezes rustled the curtains which hun

by my windows, and softly jingled th

safety chain which hung around m



supply of helium cylinders, moving

half empty box of white neopren

balloons which sat precariously at th

edge of one of my supply shelvesnstinctively, I reached over and moved

he box to a more secure position. Th

balloons were fragile. Normally I kephe boxes stored securely towards th

back of the storage shelves. I had bee

using red balloons for several days now

was certain that I had left the halempty box of white balloons sitting a

he back of its storage shelf when I ha

used it last. I spent a few momentwondering how it could possibly hav

moved to such a precarious position a

he front of the shelf.

As I sat semi-daydreaming,



wondered why the Air Force had wante

me to spend all last week and this wee

making the balloon runs from thi

solated valley. Normally I made thruns from the range three valley severa

miles to the northwest of here. Normally

he Desert Center air base considerehe range weather reports to be of th

highest importance, eagerly awaited th

nformation, and carefully examined th

results. However, these last few dayspent at range one had been quit

different. My friend Dwight had checke

with the Desert Center command posWe both agreed that not a single airplane

had used any part of the ranges during al

of that time. Dwight informed me tha



most of my wind reports had ended up i

he forecaster’s waste paper basket

unused, unneeded, and unread. Th

officer at the command post had refuseo even take the time to be told th

results. It seemed to be a waste of goo

paper just to write them down. Yet theDesert Center command post had bee

exceptionally explicit, direct, an

nsistent. This was the valley the

wanted me in. The Desert Center bascommander had personally given th

orders. They specifically wanted all o

he weather reports taken. Yesterday, inaddition to the usual full schedule o

wind measurements, they had eve

ordered an additional 3:30 p.m. lat

afternoon run. Yet, when I phoned in the



results, the command post said it didn

need to know the results. They onl

wanted to verify that I had been on dut

at range one, and had taken the ballooruns as scheduled. It didn’t seem to mak

any sense, and I naturally wondere

why.Then I began wondering about th

meadowlark calls. I had been hearin

hem all day yesterday, and during th

ate afternoon of the day before. Today had been hearing them ever since th

first run of the morning, more than seve

hours earlier. Something about it didn’feel right.

I felt safe enough being out on thi

range alone, even though this was th



valley that had so terrified Sulliva

before me. I remembered the scar on hi

arm. I wondered if a lost little boy ha

actually attacked him. When I had firsstarted coming here, I felt certain that

was alone. Sometimes however, despit

he valley’s isolation, I found impossible to actually feel alone. Othe

imes I felt certain that I was bein

watched as I took my weather reports

Yet I hadn’t been able to answer thequestion, “Watched by whom?”

One day, although I was apparentl

alone, the feeling was so overwhelminhat I chose to park my pickup truck les

han 10 feet from my theodolite. On tha

day, I sat in my truck for more than a hal

hour studying the sagebrush down to th



southeast, as Sullivan had done befor

me, trying to determine what wa

causing the feeling. On that day, nothin

appeared to be unusual. All I coulddentify was a few half glimpsed whit

patches. They were way out in the hea

waves, moving through the hot sunlsagebrush. It was a long time before

was able to put my uneasy feeling

aside, and go on taking the weathe

reports.On this beautiful summer day as I sa

wondering and watching the purpl

sagebrush rippling in the gentle summewinds, I noticed that a section of th

sagebrush underneath my gaze wa

moving somewhat more than expected



The moving section was within eas

walking distance from my weathe

shack. It was bordered on the north b

he deep, dry arroyo. That section wamore or less a quarter of a mile dow

he valley and somewhat northeast of m

weather shack. That section wahealthier, taller, and much thicker than

many of the other sections. It was als

much closer than the sections where th

meadowlark sounds were coming fromThose sections were some two mile

distant and down the valley southeast o

my weather shack.I thought about things for a while.

noticed that the sagebrush plants weren

uniformly spaced across the valley floor

Rather, they were arranged in irregula



patches with narrow, maze like ope

anes in between.

I continued gazing out towards th

moving section of sagebrush. Suddenlmy gaze fell on something white. It wa

here and then gone so suddenly that a

first I thought it was just my eyes playinricks on me. After watching the movin

section of sagebrush for another te

minutes or so, I started seeing mor

glimpses of the white patch out in thsagebrush. The few glimpses seeme

nnocent enough. I guessed that I wa

probably just catching glimpses of bird, or a sea gull, or a desert mirage, o

something.

Suddenly, I got an unusually good



glimpse of the chalk white patch as

dashed across one of the open lanes. I

was perhaps a quarter of a mile out i

he moving section of sagebrush. couldn’t be certain what it was. At first

hought it was probably a small coyot

or maybe a large rabbit, but it alsooked as though it might have been

ittle girl, maybe age four. It’

movements seemed unusually erratic

and desperate. I wondered if it was losout there in the narrow lanes in the ho

hick, sagebrush maze.

Curious now, I decided that I neededo get a closer look at whatever it wa

hat was out there. Rising slowly fro

my chair, I put on my new fatigue hat and

snapped a full canteen of water int



position on my belt. I slowly stepped ou

hrough the open door of my weathe

shack onto the small patch of gravel.

put on the thick leather gloves that frequently kept stuffed into my bac

pocket. Sagebrush could be hard on

man’s hands. Using the doorway as footrest, I re-tightened the thick laces o

my heavy military combat boots. I stoo

here in the sunshine for a few minute

watching. Nothing happened. I called oun a loud voice, “Is anyone out there?

There was no response. I called again

“Does anyone out there need help?Still, there was no response. Afte

waiting for a few minutes, I decided t

nvestigate the sagebrush further



Stepping slowly across the steel cabl

fence that separated my weather shac

from the desert beyond, I began walkin

slowly into the sagebrush. I was in nhurry. I would take a few steps, then stop

and watch for a while. Sometimes

would take a sip of water. Then I wouldcall out some more, “Is anyone ou

here? Does anyone out there nee

help?” Still, there was no response.

had just started feeling noticeablfoolish when I got another glimpse of th

small, white thing dashing up a cros

ane in the thick sagebrush. It nowseemed obvious to me that the littl

white creature was lost and trapped i

he maze of plants, and unable to find it

way out. Becoming still more curious,



continued my policy of taking a few

slow steps. Then I stopped and watche

for a while.

Since I was wearing a good pair oprotective military combat boots, a goo

sturdy set of military fatigues, and thic

eather gloves, I wasn’t limited traversing the open lanes in th

sagebrush, as the small white creatur

was. Since I was much taller than th

plants, I also had a much better view ohe maze. It was a simple matter to ope

new lanes by breaking and tramplin

down some of the plants. Using mweight and my heavy military comba

boots, I proceeded to carefully cut

series of new lanes through the irregula



patches of sagebrush. This made it eas

for me to out-maneuver the object of m

nterest. A slow motion game of cat and

mouse followed. I would stanmotionless, watching the sagebrush for

while. Then I would call out in a lou

voice, “Are you lost? Do you need helpAre your parents here to help you?

Then I would cut a new lane, stan

waiting for a few minutes, and call ou

oudly, “Don’t be afraid, I won’t hurou. Do you need help finding you

parents?”

After only a few moves in the game, became convinced that whatever I wa

pursuing was far more intelligent tha

any animal. I decided that it probabl

was a lost little girl. For that reason,



continued to play the cat-and-mous

game in a slow, cautious manner. The

game took me further and further into th

sagebrush. Soon I found myself at least quarter of a mile northeast of m

weather shack, immersed in the beautifu

purple meadows.I continued calling out in a loud voice

every now and then, “Little girl, don’t b

afraid. Are you lost? I will not hurt you

only want to help you find youparents.” There was never any response

By now, I was certain that I needed to

get a good close look at the whitcreature that I was slowly pursuing.

began playing this game with stil

greater intensity.



Keeping track of the little whit

creature’s movements required m

utmost attention. I had to carefully stud

he movements of the clumps osagebrush as they swayed gently in th

summer winds. Sometimes I had to wa

patiently for several minutes for a quicglimpse of something white, dashing up

some distant side lane. Without thinkin

much about it, I noticed that th

meadowlark sounds, which hapreviously been some two miles dow

he valley, had now moved quickly up

he valley towards me. One of thesunseen meadowlarks, using the maze fo

concealment, had moved swiftly up th

valley and was now positioned behind



arge, nearby clump of sagebrush. It wa

only fifty feet or so, off to my right

Another unseen meadowlark, conceale

by both the maze and the near side of tharroyo, fell in behind another clump o

sagebrush less than 70 feet to my lef

Then I noticed that another three or fouused the deep part of the arroyo fo

cover, redeploying in swift militar

fashion. They now formed a large arc

couple hundred feet across, and werocated on the far side of the thick clum

of sagebrush that I was now searching.

Then I noticed that the unseemeadowlark on my right issued a serie

of sounds noticeably higher pitched an

ouder than usual. Upon hearing it, th

white creature that I was pursuing cam



o a full stop and stood motionless. Sh

stood waiting for me to break through th

unusually thick sagebrush into the lan

where she was. Not feeling any fear, gnored the unseen meadowlarks an

continued my cat and mouse game

Having come so far into the desert, in thheat and in the sage, I was determined t

close on the little white creature that

now felt certain must be lost.

Closing slowly on the object of mnterest, I continued my policy o

rampling straight wide aisles throug

he otherwise beautiful sagebrushOpening another new lane by cuttin

easily through the last section in th

maze, I trapped the small white creatur



n the short dead-end sagebrush alle

where it stood. It was apparently waitin

for me to finish my work. By now I wa

more than a half a mile out in the hosunshine and out in the dry, beautifu

purple sagebrush. A chorus of sound

from the unseen meadowlarks coulsuddenly be heard on both sides of me

and in front of me. However, none cam

from behind me. It had been a pleasan

game of cat and mouse. It was witobvious satisfaction that I steppe

hrough my newly created lane in the las

rregular patch of sagebrush. Mpresence blocked the entrance into th

small dead-end lane and closed the trap

on the small white creature that I ha

been pursuing. The lane was no mor



han 15 feet deep. I had the object of m

slow pursuit trapped, standing no mor

han 10 feet in front of me. As I wa

completing the winning move in thislow game of cat and mouse, I wa

saying gently, as though I were speakin

o a lost little girl, “Don’t be afraid. will not hurt you. I will not even touc

ou. Are you lost? Are you out here

alone? Do you need help finding you

parents? Do you need a drink of waterf you’re lost, I will help you find you

parents.” Turning at last towards th

ittle white creature, the shock was togreat to fully register on my brain.

Standing barely 10 feet from me, an

shaking in absolute terror of me, stood



small little white girl, probably only

feet tall. Yet, as I looked at her, my mind

numb from shock, I realized that sh

wasn’t an ordinary little girl. Her skiwas chalk white. She wore a chalk whit

umpsuit with solid white astronaut lik

boots. The suit appeared to have beeconstructed from an aluminized canva

ike material. Her boots appeared t

have been made from a molded nylo

ike material. She had short blonde haiand bright blue, intelligent looking eyes

She was obviously exhausted. As

wave of shock tried to pound its wanto my consciousness, I noticed that sh

was much thinner than any little girl

had ever previously seen. Then I notice

her eyes. They were much larger tha



hose of any other little girl I’d eve

seen. Her intelligent looking eye

molded smoothly around the side of he

head, noticeably farther than those of anhuman. I began to feel dizzy from shoc

as I noticed that her gloved hand

contained only 4 fingers, and appeareo end in short sharp claws instead o

fingernails.

Retreating in shock and fear, I stepped

back a couple of steps into the crossane. This released the trap on the littl

white creature and opened her escap

route. It also took her out of my view, sohat I could calm down a little. Slightl

behind me and hidden in the thick sag

some fifty feet off to my right, I coul



hear an unusually loud, piercing, an

shrill sound. Still another sound, muc

softer than the first, could be heard onc

or twice coming from the lane where thittle girl was. For the first time, fea

began building from deep within me. I

seemed like someone else was talking a slowly recited, “Don’t be afraid. I’

not coming any closer. I will not touc

ou. I thought you were lost. I though

ou needed help finding your parents.”Knowing that the little girl wa

shaking in terror of me, feeling shoc

and fear myself, it seemed only naturafor me to turn back towards the west

owards the direction of my weathe

shack. I took a few steps in tha

direction. Speaking now with my bac



owards her, and trying to block th

scene that I had just witnessed from m

mind, I continued, “Don’t worry. I won’

hurt you. I’m the weatherman out hereThat’s my weather shack over there. I’m

going back to my weather shack now.

Then I took two or three slow steps bacowards my weather shack. I continue

speaking loudly and slowly, “If you need

help, just come over to my weathe

shack and ask me. See, I’ve alreadopened a wide lane for you. You don’

have to come inside. You can just stay

out in the desert and throw a rock at mshack to get my attention. I’ll help yo

find your parents if I can. I could phon

he Desert Center base commander an



ell him you are out here alone. H

would know where your parents are. H

would tell them for sure.”

Taking two or three more steps bacowards my shack, I continued, “You’re

probably thirsty. You probably need

some water. I have some water in mshack if you need a drink.” There was n

response from behind me. I could hea

only soft, pleasant meadowlark sounds.

continued walking slowly back towardmy weather shack, still speaking loudl

and slowly. I was shaking noticeabl

from shock, “I’ll put some water on thapost for you. If you need it, you can drin

all you want. I have plenty more.”

I continued walking slowly bac

owards my weather shack. My nerve



were still shaking. When I had covere

about half of the distance back to m

weather shack, I stopped for a momen

and turned slowly around to see ianything had changed behind me.

expected to see the little lost gir

following me from a distance. Instead, got just a momentary glimpse of a tal

hin adult white creature, probably 6 fee

all, running down one of the newl

created lanes and turning into the deadend alley which held the small whit

creature. Then in one smooth motion,

ducked down behind the sagebrush.I was in far too much shock at the tim

for the scene and its implications to full

register on my numbed brain. There ar



white girl. After thinking about it for

few minutes, I arose again. I located m

ar of water and slowly reopened th

side door to the beautiful desert outsidehappily noted that everything outsid

seemed normal. Nothing seemed out o

place. I carried my jar of water outsidand located a wide square wooden pos

with a flat top. The cable fenc

consisted of a row of such post

connected by a single steel cableAlthough all of the posts were similar

finding a post with a flat level top wa

quite difficult. Consequently the post selected had unique features. I set the ja

of water on top of the post. I carefull

positioned it so that any child could fin



t. I slightly loosened the cap. Then

shouted loudly out into the desert, “See

ittle girl. I am placing some water her

for you. You may drink it anytime youwant.” I stood there silently for a few

minutes watching the sagebrush in th

distance. As before, there was no replyEverything seemed to be beautifu

purple, and normal. The only differenc

noticed was that now there were n

meadowlark like sounds coming froout in the sagebrush. I was greeted onl

by the quiet whispering of the deser

winds.After watching the sagebrush for a few

more uneventful minutes, I decided t

phone the Desert Center air base and as

f any children had been reporte



missing. Returning to my weather shac

and dialing the phone, I was soo

speaking to my friend Dwight, the dut

weather observer for the day. Dwighchecked with the Desert Cente

command post. As I had requested, h

asked to speak personally with the bascommander. The base commande

nsisted that no lost children had bee

reported. Yet, according to Dwight, the

base commander, a two star general, hadhanked him profusely for making th

phone call.

Like everything else, it didn’t seem tmake any sense. The conversation wit

Dwight was a friendly conversation

However, the phone line was heavy wit



static. Both Dwight and I quickl

became convinced that someone els

was listening in on our supposedl

private line. Still shaking from mexperience and feeling very ill at ease,

old Dwight that I wasn’t feeling wel

We both decided that the best thing fome to do was to cancel the last run fo

he day and head back into base. Fo

some reason, the Desert Center bas

commander happily agreed. Withoufurther ado, I hung up the phone, close

up my weather shack and headed for m

parked pickup truck. As before, nothinoutside in the desert appeared to be ou

of the ordinary. Yet the feeling that I was

being watched by something out in th

desert was absolutely overwhelming.



didn’t actually feel threatened. I just fe

certain that five or six people wer

watching me intently. I felt certain tha

hese people, for some unexplainereason, approved of whatever it was tha

had done. Every time I turned my hea

o look out into the sagebrush, I woulcatch momentary glimpses of things

hings that my shocked and confuse

mind refused to let me actually see. M

brain kept saying to me, “Just keepwalking. Don’t listen to anything. Don

ook back. Everything will be all right

Just keep walking, and don’t look back.”Once I was safely inside my truck,

ocked the truck doors, and started th

engine. I quickly put the truck in gear an



headed back into town. All of the time

as the road carried me across the dr

akebed, through the tall sagebrush an

up the mountain slopes beyond, thfeeling that I was being watched wa

simply overwhelming. I understood wh

Sullivan had deserted. It wasn’t until reached the low pass in the mountain

hat I was finally able to calm down an

start thinking again. Only then did I sto

praying. Only then did I stop askinJesus to protect me from whatever it wa

hat I had encountered.

Coming out of the pass, I could see thMojave Wells base in the distance. I

ooked so beautiful and peaceful as it la

exposed in the afternoon sunshine. As

drove towards this image of beauty an



peaceful security, I realized that lik

Sullivan, I too, had a decision to make.

realized that the weather reportin

schedule for the coming day wadentical to the one I had been ordered t

follow on this day. Like Sullivan,

realized that whatever had beewatching me from out in the sagebrus

oday would be watching me from out i

he sagebrush tomorrow, and the nex

day, and the next day. The prospect odriving out to range one alone, at 3:1

a.m. in the morning, was scary enough

ow the prospect of working out theralone in the nighttime, knowing tha

something unknown was hiding out in th

sagebrush watching my every move, wa



errifying beyond description. Yet,

realized that I had no other choice. Th

wind-reporting schedule came as a set o

orders from the Desert Center bascommander. He was a two star genera

who had developed the bad habit o

expecting his every order to be obeyeo the letter. Failure to obey a general’

orders would lead to a simple drumhea

court martial. I knew what I had to do

For my own good, I had to force myselo forget what had just happened. For m

own good, I had to force all memories o

t out of my mind. I had to remembeonly that whatever had been out ther

oday, had also been out there yesterday

and the day before, and the day before

For my own good I had to remember tha



t hadn’t attacked me on any of the man

occasions in the past when it obviousl

could have. I kept reminding myself tha

hadn’t done anything today that woulcause it to change its mind. I decided a

ast to rely on God for protection and t

close my mind to the entire incident. I seabout convincing myself that nothin

whatever had been watching me from ou

n the sagebrush, down at range one.

proceeded to spend the remainder of thday thinking up possible alternat

explanations for what had happened

Silly as some of the explanations werehey gave me the courage to continu

with my weather observing duties out a

range one. I decided to convince mysel



hat what I had really seen was a new

and undiscovered type of large whit

seagull. I gave it a name. I called i

“The Gull of the Distant Sage”.The following morning the drive out t

range one was a simple test of courage

My sea gull story had given me verittle. There was only a sliver o

moonlight. I was terrified of ever

shadow, every rock, and every rabbit

Yet, emotional vegetable that I was, was determined to perform my weathe

observer duties as ordered. I rolle

down the window on my truck. I sang msummer sunshine songs loud and slow

As my truck traversed the low mountai

pass and began heading down toward

he dry lakebed in the distance, my hand



were shaking from fear so much that m

ruck left the gravel road and bounce

harmlessly across the desert. After

short distance, I regained control and gomy truck back onto the gravel road.

stopped my truck on the road an

surveyed the dry lakebed ahead in thdistance before continuing on.

Nothing appeared to be out of place

but that did little to calm me down. I

order to overcome the terror that I felt, worked hard trying to convince mysel

hat my sea gull explanation was correc

decided that since I was the discovereof this supposed new kind of seagull,

should make up more names for it. Sill

as this game was, it did help me ge



better control of myself. I decided that

would give my seagull a second name.

decided I would also name the new

seagull “Charlie’s Gull”. Playing thisilly game let me finally get back t

where I could laugh a little at myself

Even so, I approached the range onarea with as much fear and caution a

Sullivan ever had.

When I finally arrived at range one

nothing appeared out of place. Nothinghat is, except the bottle of water which

had left sitting on the post the da

before. During my absence, someone haremoved half of the water, replaced th

cap snugly, and placed the jar on th

ground next to the post. Around the pos

were two new sets of footprints, i



addition to the footprints that I had left i

he soft desert soil the day before. On

set of footprints had been made by

small child wearing boots. The other sewas similar to the first, except they wer

hose of an adult. I estimated that th

child didn’t weigh more then 30 poundsThe adult appeared to weigh not mor

hen 110 pounds.

Alone in the desert night, once mor

error began welling up inside of me. Ierror, I realized that I had no choice bu

o take the morning winds and phon

hem in using the phone inside my rangone weather shack. It was a good hour’

drive back into Mojave Wells. If my

winds were that late and made up,



would be looking at a court martial an

a section eight, for sure. It was with

certain determined military grimnes

hen, that I set about my duties. I climbento the safety of my truck and started it

locked the doors and turned th

headlights on bright. I carefullnspected every square inch of th

graveled area at range one. I positione

my truck so that the open front door o

my truck was less then 4 feet from thheodolite stand. I set the parking brak

and left the truck engine running. I als

eft the lights on bright. The truck wapositioned so that the bright lights shon

out into the sagebrush maze where I ha

been walking the day before. Then

singing loudly in a high voice to build u



my failing, vegetable-like courage,

gingerly got out of my truck and opene

my weather shack.

I phoned the Desert Center weathestation to make sure they knew I was o

he job. Then, in hurried fashion, I too

he morning wind measurements. performed the calculations in recor

ime and phoned them into Deser

Center. I closed down and locked up th

weather station as fast as humanlpossible. With terror and fear buildin

within me, I sprinted back to my waitin

ruck and climbed in. I locked the doorsput the truck into gear, and bega

heading out across the graveled are

owards the road back to the Mojav



Wells base. I had been jumping in fea

of every shadow, every trembling leaf

and every gust of wind. Even thoug

nothing had actually happened on thmorning run, I was, by now, so terrified

hat my brain had switched to tunne

vision. I was in near panic.Emotionally I had switched int

complete denial of the previous day’

events. For that reason, I assumed tha

my mind was playing tricks on me as brought my truck out onto the grave

road. On the edge of my vision, I got

momentary glimpse of something tall anwhite, standing only a hundred feet o

so, out in the sagebrush northeast of th

range one area. In near panic as I was,

hit the gas, shifted into high gear, floored



he gas pedal, headed out across the dr

akebed and back towards base.

There was something about the rang

one area this morning that had felt fadifferent from anything I had ever fe

before. When I had gotten the glimpse o

he white creature, this time it had felt ahough it were a young woman, standing

waiting in the sagebrush to thank me fo

whatever I had done the day before. I

felt as though the little white girl was hedaughter and had actually been lost. I

felt as though I had actually located he

for them. My mind was so locked ierror at the time that I was barely abl

o drive. For a moment it felt as though

friendly African lion had been waiting to



hank me. Then it felt as though someon

very important, like Abraham Lincoln

had been waiting there to thank me. Wit

panic spreading rapidly through mbrain, I hit the gas some more and spe

up until my truck was just barely able t

stay on the gravel road. It was in thiwretched state that I struggled to kee

control of myself as I headed bac

owards Mojave Wells. It wasn’t until

was back through the pass, and thMojave Wells base area had come into

view that I was willing to turn my hea

from one side to the other. I had been tooerrified to even look in my mirrors as

drove.

Halfway from the pass to the bas

area, the terror of it all finall



overwhelmed me. I stopped my truc

and fell out of the driver’s side door.

anded on my hands and on my knees, o

he hard rocks and gravel. I proceeded tvomit my guts onto the desert floor.

was sick from terror. When I stopped,

was so hysterical that I momentarilforgot I’d been driving my truck. Excep

hat I was on my knees vomiting, I woul

have broken into total hysteria and ra

screaming in terror down the road baco base. After I had spent some twent

minutes on my knees, crawling in the dir

and sagebrush, vomiting my guts into thsand and sagebrush and onto the grave

highway, I was finally able to dra

myself back into my truck, wild eyed



with tears of fear and terror filling m

eyes. Ignoring my scrapes and cuts an

scratches, I placed my truck in gear an

drove back towards base with the brutadetermination of a soldier coming hom

from a war zone.

I pulled my truck up in front of thchow hall and parked. I sat there fo

several minutes, my face in my scrape

hands, trying to regain control of myself

was thanking God for the chow haland its feeling of closeness and security

was sick from the morning’

experience. Knowing that I still had foumore wind measurements to take, jus

oday alone, made the terror even worse

My head was pounding. I was shaking s

badly that I wasn’t sure I could get out o



my truck and walk into the chow hall.

decided to rest for a few minutes an

pray for help before making the attemp

o go in for breakfast and coffee.As I sat there with my window rolle

down, reciting the Lord’s Prayer ove

and over, trying desperately to regain mcourage, my friend Smokey, the head

cook, came out of the chow hall. Goo

friend, confidant, and genius that he was

here was little point in ever trying thide anything from Smokey. With one

glance he could see my terror. He knew

exactly how to calm me down. Hwalked up to my truck, greeted me, an

aughing a little, said, “Charlie, I don

know what you have gone and done now



but that base commanding general dow

at Desert Center has gone an

memorized your name. He told me s

himself. You’re sure in a lot of troublenow. I told you, you’d get yourself i

rouble going out there into the deser

every morning like you do, didn’t IDidn’t I tell you that you should b

spending your mornings setting in ther

n the chow hall drinking coffee

shooting the bull with me, and making uphose winds, just like all those othe

weather observers used to do befor

ou.” Then he laughed some moreYou’re as white as a ghost, Charlie. You

wouldn’t stand out any more, looking th

way you do, if you were to go back ou

here tonight wearing neon diapers.” H



aughed some more. Turning mor

serious, he continued: “You know, i

ou’re going to go out there alone ever

night like you do, and expect to surviveou’re going to have to face up t

whatever is out there. You’re neve

going to be able to hide from it, not witall that baby white skin of yours. You’re

going to have to learn to stand you

ground when it walks in on you from ou

n the sagebrush. Before you go out theragain, Charlie, it’s my duty before Jesu

o get you to brown down like me, s

ou can blend in with the shadows like do. That way, that base commandin

general down at Desert Center won

ever get onto what you’ve been doin



out there. That way, he’ll never lear

our name.”

My head still aching, and my puls

still pounding from the morning’s events finally asked, whispering meekl

hrough my veil of tears, “The Deser

Center base commander knows me?”Smokey laughed and responded, “Yes

he knows you, Charlie. Just a few

minutes ago, he personally called up th

chow hall here with a message for youHe ordered me to fill a couple of larg

hermos’ with coffee the way you like it

collect up six, eight pieces of toast alonwith some good breakfast things, eggs

bacon, and stuff, and come get you usin

he chow hall truck. That new cook and

were in there right now getting the stuf



ogether when we saw you drive up

That general said you were stopped ou

here on the range one road, sick an

vomiting, down on your hands anknees, and unable to drive. He eve

knows you by name, Charlie. You know

ou got to be in a lot of trouble now-nowhat the Base Commanding general ha

gone and learned your name.”

Off balance and still in shock,

meekly asked, “What was the message?Smokey pretended not to notice that

was wiping the tears of fear from m

eyes at the time.Smokey laughed as before, bent over

spit on the ground, and responded, “H

said ‘Thanks’.”



“You mean ‘Thanks for the morning

winds?’” I asked.

“No,” responded Smokey. H

straightened up and looked me straight ihe eye. “You know he doesn’t car

anything about those winds. That’s wh

ou should be making them up for youown safety, like all of those othe

weather observers did before you. H

said ‘Thanks’ for whatever it was tha

ou did yesterday. He said, ‘don’worry. The butterfly is unharmed and

perfectly safe now. He said the butterfl

ran off while playing in the flowers angot hopelessly lost. She got trapped ou

n that thick sage and couldn’t get out

He said everyone was looking all ove



n the wrong places. The sagebrush wa

so thick that it screwed everything up

Everyone was worried sick, includin

he general himself. He said you werhe one that figured it all out, an

showed everyone where the butterfl

was. He said you went out there liksome big gorilla, cut through the thic

sagebrush, and set the butterfly free. H

said they wouldn’t have found th

butterfly in time or gotten through thahick sage in time without you.” The

Smokey paused for a minute befor

continuing. “The general also said threst of the wind runs for today ar

canceled. The winds for the rest of th

week are also canceled. Th

cancellation order is irrevocable. H



said he’s ordering you to take the rest o

he week off as free medical leave. H

suggested that you calm down by havin

fun in Los Angeles at Air Force expenseThe normal wind schedule will resum

from range one next Monday morning a

8:00 a.m. He said they’d skip over nexMonday’s 4:30 morning run so you

could rebuild your courage in th

sunshine. He also promised that all o

he ranges would be deserted oMonday.”

With my mind now in total denial and

confusion, I breathed out one morquestion, “Did the general say anythin

else?”

“Yes,” responded Smokey. “He said



he admired your bravery. He said

nobody down at Desert Center or bac

east at the Pentagon, has the slightes

dea how you could have gone and donsuch a good thing. He said that he ha

never seen any man with the guts that yo

have. Then he said something reallstrange, Charlie,” stated Smokey matter

of-factly.

“What was it?” I whispered.

Smokey looked serious for a minute oso and responded, “He said he wante

ou to know that because of what yo

did yesterday, there wasn’t anythinwhite out on the ranges which you woul

ever need to be afraid of. He said that h

and the Pentagon, and everyone els

hat’s white, has gone and learned al



about you by name. You know that you

have to be in a lot of trouble now

Charlie. There’s no doubt that the bas

commanding general has got you in hisights ’cause he’s gone and memorized

our name.”

I was too confused, sick, terrified, anshocked, to respond. Smokey, laughin

again, gently opened the door to my truc

and said, “Come on, Charlie. You’ve a

east gotten a decent ‘Deer in thheadlights’ look, back in your eyes

Whatever is out there, I can see it’s pu

ou through one fine piece of living helWhatever it is, it can wait ’till Monday

This is one morning when you need you

brother Smokey to come look after you



Remember, you and I, we’re blood! It’

even the general’s orders for me to tak

care of you. Come on in, brother. Let’

get us some coffee. We’ll give you thanice breakfast we’ve fixed. You can

brown down again and get some colo

back in those four baby white cheeks oours. You need to spend some time

forgetting about whatever white i

waiting for you out there on thos

distant, sage covered hellish rangesRemember, you and I are of a kind

either one of us is white.

That morning as I walked, shakingowards the chow hall with Smoke

steadying me, and telling me th

humorous version of his life’s story,

said a little prayer. First I swore that



would religiously forget whatever I ha

seen out in the sagebrush on range one

Then I thanked God for Smokey.



Olympic Tryouts

So the king ordered Daniel to be broughand cast into the lion’s den.

To Daniel he said,

“May your God,whom you serve so constantly,

save you.”

. . . Daniel 6:17

It was a beautiful evening in Mojav

Wells. After the evening chow, I hadspent several hours shooting pool in th

Mojave Wells Airmen’s club. It was

unusually late, slightly past midnight



when I finally got back to my barracks.

was still bunking in the huge, empt

double barracks by the Mojave Well

flight line, the barracks with thbathrooms in the middle. The barrack

were long, had only two doors, wer

very poorly lit, and had only twwindows. With its unusual creaks and

shadows, it certainly wasn’t a barrack

for the faint hearted. It had enough bunk

and cubicles for 60 or 70 menHowever, I was bunking alone in th

barracks because no one but me woul

agree to spend a night sleeping there.I had just taken my nightly shower, an

was drying off when I heard somethin

n one of the compartments down by th

west door. I would have run out th



other door, but I didn’t have any clothe

on. I couldn’t see anything, but I fe

certain that I was being watched b

something.Whatever it was, it seemed intensel

curious about little things… things lik

how I was drying my shoulders with owel.

After a few nervous moments, I finall

got my civilian clothes on. Gettin

dressed took some doing because I waoo scared to go back into m

compartment and turn my back o

whatever it was I’d heard. After I godressed, I left the barracks through th

other door and got to my truck. I starte

my truck and parked it at the east end o



he building. I specifically parke

outside the barracks door on the nort

side next to the east end. This let me se

he entire Mojave Wells runway and thecomplete desert valley that ran straigh

north from the barracks. I could see al

he way up the valley, to the mountainon the far north end, perhaps 105 mile

away. I locked my truck doors and

decided to sit and watch the barracks t

see who or what came out. At about 2:0a.m. my patience was rewarded

Something came out from hiding on th

west end of the barracks and wenrunning out into the valley towards th

mountains to the northwest. It happene

so fast that I could hardly believe m

eyes. It appeared to be a tall shockingl



white person, approximately 6 feet tal

t appeared to have solid, chalk whit

skin, shoulder length blonde hair, and i

ran at least twice as fast as any Olympirunner would have run. It appeared to b

wearing some type of aluminum clothin

hat gave off a soft white fluorescenight. The way the creature ran wa

distinctly feminine. It had surprisingl

hin arms and legs, and it had three littl

children, just like itself, running after iWhen they got about a mile and a hal

out where the sagebrush started gettin

all, they all bent down, and disappeareby hiding in the sagebrush. I staye

ocked in my truck and kept watching th

barracks. About ten minutes later, I saw



a second tall white creature peek at m

from around the opposite end of th

barracks. This second adult creatur

moved in a manner that was distinctlmale and also stood approximately

feet tall. After a few more minutes, h

oo, went running out from hiding on thwest side of the building. He ran out int

he desert to the northwest, as the other

had and hid in the sagebrush. I clocke

him. As a weatherman, I had long sincmemorized the location of all of th

hills, gullies, and points of interest in th

Mojave Wells valley. I was wearing mywatch, and it was an easy matter to tim

he creatures. Computing the speed wit

which the runners had traveled was als

a simple matter. The woman and th



children were running between 25 an

30 miles per hour. The man was runnin

a little faster. He was running at abou

35 miles per hour.As the reality of what I had seen san

slowly into my brain, I found mysel

becoming terrified. For a few minutes, sat in my truck, shaking in fear, not eve

able to light a cigarette.

I watched the sagebrush some more

and nothing happened, but after a halhour or so, I could see some fluorescen

patches up in one of the mountain passes

some 10-15 miles northwest of thMojave Wells Base. I decided that th

emergency must be over. The whol

experience had left me dog-tired. I wa



afraid to go back into my barracks, so

went to sleep in my truck. I took th

morning winds in my civilian clothe

hat day because my fear of going bacnto my barracks didn’t subside unti

well after sun up. When I finally did g

back in, there wasn’t anything unusual tbe found except that a few of my clothe

had been moved.

When I told Steve about everythin

over the supper table, he became reallangry with me. He criticized me, saying

“I really like you, Charlie. You’re the

best and closest friend I’ve ever hadYou’ve been better than any brother to

me. I’d die to keep anything fro

happening to you, but it was so stupid o

ou to park your truck out there and wait



You’ve got to learn to get some brain

about you, Charlie. You’ve got to learn

o back away from stuff like that. What i

hey’d decided to come out your end ohe barracks, not knowing that you wer

here? What would you have done then?

Defensively, I responded, “But what saw wasn’t real, was it? I mean, I wa

ust dreaming, wasn’t I, Steve?”

Then Steve, standing up, answered m

angrily, “No! You weren’t dreamingCharlie. No man of your intelligenc

dreams up driving his truck onto th

flight line in the middle of the night likou did.”

Steve stomped off. As he did so,

noticed that he had tears in his eyes. I



appeared that he knew much more tha

he was telling me.

A few uneventful days passed. Then

ate Friday evening, I was hungry fosome ice cream. It was going o

midnight. I had been playing poker wit

Steve and my other friends. Before goinback to my barracks, I walked int

Mojave Wells and continued down

along the main highway to the ice crea

stand on the southeast end of town. Ihose days, Mojave Wells was a tiny

ittle town in a very big desert. It didn

have any nightlife. Usually, they rolledup the streets when the sun went down

The ice cream stand was located on th

poorly lit east edge of town next to th

main highway under some large old oa



rees. I arrived at the stand just as it wa

closing. The attendant filled my orde

for a cola and an ice cream bar. Then th

attendant closed the stand, turned off thights, locked up, and went home.

wasn’t in any hurry. As a weathe

observer, I was long since used to beinoutside alone at night. I took my cola an

my ice cream bar to one of the outdoo

ables that sat hidden back in th

shadows under the trees. The few sidstreets of Mojave Wells were deserted

and the traffic through town was ver

ight. I was taking my time, calmlenjoying my ice cream on this war

summer night.

In the distance I noticed somethin



unusual across the main highway on th

other end of town. There, on the side o

he highway walking slowly towards m

and just reaching the western edge oMojave Wells, were two thin, unusual

forms. They were only two blocks fro

me, so I could see them clearly anplainly. They stood a little less than si

feet tall and had a slightly unusua

manner of walking. They had the sam

appearance as the creatures I had seeby my barracks. They were walking ver

close together, one slightly behind th

other, and were less than Three feeapart. They were looking around a grea

deal as they walked. They were a

similar in appearance as any tw

dentical twins; yet, because of thei



actions, I thought they might be brothe

and sister. Despite the fact they wer

walking along the main highway throug

Mojave Wells, they appeared to beafraid that someone would see them

Feeling threatened, I sat quietly, hidde

by the shadows and the trees anwatched them carefully for at leas

wenty minutes. Several cars passe

hem during that time. I noticed that th

automobile headlights did not illuminatheir suits. Rather, the suits appeared to

generate a field of some type tha

absorbed the light from the cars angenerated different light of their own

However, the two did cast shadows a

he car lights passed them. The driver



of two cars appeared to panic when the

saw them. The cars accelerated rapidl

hrough town before disappearing dow

he highway towards Palm Meadows.When they were less than a block fro

me, I decided that for my own safety,

would quietly head back to base. continued to stay hidden by the shadow

and trees. The plan worked well for

short distance. However, when I wa

directly across the highway from themhey suddenly caught sight of me an

reacted with alarm. The highway an

streets of Mojave Wells were desertedat the time. Since I was certain they ha

seen me, and I was concerned for m

own safety, I hailed them from across th

highway. I was planning to warn them to



keep away from me and from m

barracks. To my surprise, once I hailed

hem, they took off running away fro

me. They immediately left the maihighway and went running up the arroy

and up the canyon into Big Bear pas

which overlooks Mojave Wells. Dogcould be heard barking at them as the

ran past some houses on the distant edg

of Mojave Wells. Within a few minutes

hey had disappeared into the canyon, thsagebrush, and into the mountains tha

separated Mojave Wells valley from the

next valley to the south. Once again, nstinctively timed them as they ran

They ran uphill for more than two mile

as they headed into the pass at speed



greater than 30 miles per hour… far to

fast for a human to run.

This time I had gotten a good clea

ook at both of them. Carefully, I crossedhe highway and studied the boot print

hat they left in the sand and in the sof

dirt along the highway. Comparing thdepth of the boot prints with my own,

concluded they each weighe

approximately 90 pounds.much less tha

a typical human of the same height. walked slowly and warily back to m

barracks. Nothing about Mojave Well

seemed to be making any sense at thime.

A few nights later at about midnight,

was walking alone back to my barrack

from a late night poker game with Stev



and my friends. Once again I saw th

same two white creatures cautiousl

walking along the main highway int

own. This time I hid in the shadows oone of the empty barracks on base an

watched them from a distance. Afte

walking through town, by way of thmain highway, they cautiously inspected

he side streets and the houses on th

south end of Mojave Wells. They

disappeared at last into the sagebrusalong the base of the mountains to th

south. Once again, after watching the

for more than twenty minutes, I still hano idea what to make of it all.

Nothing unusual happened in th

barracks for a few more days. Then on



afternoon when I returned to m

barracks, I noticed that my clean laundr

and uniforms were slightly ruffled an

had moved noticeably while I had beeout on the ranges. At first, I wasn’

alarmed because the military has s

many inspections. Then I noticed msafety razor lying on the floor. I wa

certain that I had placed it in my shavin

kit and locked it in my duffel bag befor

eaving for the 4:30 a.m. run. I was alscertain that I had the only set of keys.

A couple days later, in the afternoon,

was reading a book in the base libraryCurious, my mind turned to th

sagebrush incident. I wondered if it wa

possible that the white creatures which

had seen, could possibly have been ver



athletic humans? The book I was readin

stated that well trained Olympic athlete

are able to run twice as fast as ordinar

humans. Yet, running a mile in fouminutes, an Olympic runner is travelin

only 15 miles an hour. This meant tha

ordinary people could be expected trun out into the sagebrush at only 7 or

miles an hour. Then there’s the fact tha

he Olympic record for the hundred yar

dash is not more than 22 miles per hourYet, I was certain of my calculations

The white male creature had traveled a

35 miles an hour for more than 25 timehat distance. Now I really bega

wondering, ‘If the white creatures I’

seen weren’t human, what were they?’



confusion in my mind by performing a

experiment. I decided to time myself

and see how fast I could run. The nex

morning out at range three seemed like perfect time to test myself. It was

beautiful summer day in the desert. Th

ranges were deserted. All the flights hadbeen canceled for several days. M

Olympic training program began a

10:00 a.m. sharp.

Carefully, I measured out a distance o100 yards. My Olympic training cours

started at the front door of my weathe

shack and stretched in a straight linslightly northwest, past my theodolit

stand towards the range three lounge.

ook a drink of water and checked th



second hand on my watch. Then I too

off running as fast as I could toward th

finish line 100 yards away. Completin

he first heat, I tried a second time, thea third. Too tired for a fourth heat,

accepted the inevitable. My best tim

was much less than 8 miles an hourSure, I had been wearing my militar

boots, and my timing wasn’t up t

Olympic standards, but the conclusio

couldn’t be argued. No human could ru35 miles an hour for a distance of a mil

and a half.

After resting for a while in the coobreeze in the shade of my weather shack

my mind refused to accept the reality o

his conclusion. I wondered, maybe if

rained as Olympic athletes train, m



speed would improve dramatically

Maybe if I practiced running, jumping

and throwing rocks, my running spee

would improve to Olympic standardsMy intentions were deadly serious. Yet

n almost comical fashion, I carefull

marked out a broad jump area and stone throwing area, northeast of m

heodolite stand. Then I began m

Olympic training program. I decided t

concentrate on the broad jump first. supposed that if I could dramaticall

mprove my broad jumping figures, the

my running speeds would also improvdramatically. I decided that if I could

ever run at 15 miles per hour in m

heavy military uniform, I woul



conclude that the white creatures ha

been ordinary humans who ha

unintentionally given me a good scare. I

was more than a passing consideratiofor me. I did, after all, fall asleep alon

n an unlocked barracks, on the edge of

great big desert, night after night anwake up in the dark, hoping to still b

alone, morning after morning.

For the next few days, I trained with

will. It soon became apparent that thmore I trained, the slower I got. One da

practiced the broad jump more tha

wenty times. Each time I started by thfront door of my weather shack, and too

off running as fast as I could. When

reached my broad jump line, I jumped a

far as I could. It was seldom that m



distances, jumping as I was on the har

gravel surface, measured as much as fiv

feet. Soon my running time for the 100

ard dash was down to a mere 5 mileper hour, and my distance was down to

ess than 3 feet, little more than m

stepping distance.On Wednesday of the following week

decided to try another attempt at th

broad jump. As usual, it was anothe

beautiful summer morning in the MojavWells valley. The blue dome of the sky

contained its usual decorative cirru

clouds. Considering the conditions, was using my usual red balloons. I ha

ust completed the 9:30 a.m. balloon run

The ranges were closed to everyon



except me. Therefore, the ranges wer

otherwise deserted. As usual I had lef

my truck parked over in front of th

generator shack.Since the range rats had been ordere

o stay on base, it seemed like a goo

ime to train. I knew that if I failed oooked silly, there was no one who

could possibly see me or make fun o

me. As usual I started by the front doo

of my weather shack. Then I took ofrunning towards my broad jump trainin

area just northeast of my theodolite. M

eg muscles were still sore from thprevious day’s attempts. As I started th

ump, I slipped on the hard grave

surface, lost my balance in mid-air, and

came down squarely on my left kneecap



The hard graveled surface cut easil

hrough my green fatigues and throug

my skin underneath.

By the time I had finished sliding to stop on the hard gravel, my left leg fro

my knee down was cut, banged

bleeding, and swelling fast. My left hanwas cut and damaged. Numbness an

swelling was spreading rapidly from m

eft wrist down through my fingers.

spent the next few minutes vomiting ipain and screaming in agony from it all

Only the knowledge that I was alone

some 22 miles out in the desert, gave mhe strength to endure the pain of rollin

over onto my back and sitting up in th

gravel and thorns. At first I wa



convinced that my left leg was broken i

several places, along with my left knee

my left wrist, and maybe a few bones i

my ribs and feet. I sat there for almost half hour screaming in agony and pai

and swearing at my own stupidity. Alone

as I was, there was no one to hear me, s didn’t hold back my screams an

swearing.

Finally, the feeling began to slowl

creep back to my swollen left wrist anhand. Slowly and painfully I picked th

horns and gravel out of my left wrist

my left hand, and my left leg. In extrempain, I used my handkerchief to stop th

bleeding from my flesh wounds. Then

used some dirt, as best I could, to clea

my blood and vomit off my torn uniform



Spitting on my fingers and on m

wounds, I pressed close the minor cut

on my left wrist, my left hand, my lef

knee, and my left leg. Then I calmedown as best I could and assessed m

desperate situation. I had sat up facin

east merely because that was how I hafallen. The pain I felt was far too grea

o allow me to stand up or to walk. Yet

knew that I would die where I lay, if

couldn’t get myself back to my weatheshack and phone for help.

I began by inspecting my left wrist. I

was swelling fast. By now it had turnecompletely black and blue. I carefull

nspected each of the bones in my lef

wrist and hand. I carefully compare



hem to the corresponding bones in m

right wrist and hand. Since they al

matched, I decided that none of my wris

or hand bones were broken. So I begaslowly exercising my left wrist an

hand. I knew that to get out of thi

situation, I was going to need the use omy left hand, so I ignored the extrem

pain and kept exercising it. Sometimes

was swearing in anger and agony as

did so. The exercise helped greatly ansoon my left wrist was feeling far better

Then I turned my attention to my ribs

my left knee, left ankle, and left footGratefully I concluded that all of th

bones, muscles and ligaments in my ribs

eft ankle, and left foot were badl

bruised, but probably not broken. B



now they too, were swollen black an

blue. My left knee was also, swolle

black and blue and was far too painful t

nspect. In addition, the pain was rapidlgetting worse as the shock of th

accident was wearing off.

I knew that I was going to have to geback to my weather shack at any price

Trying hard to ignore the intense pain,

sat up straight and dragged mysel

backwards the twenty feet or so acroshe hard gravel until I got back to m

heodolite stand. I was exhausted an

hirsty by the time I got there, but all omy drinking water was in my weathe

shack and truck. The hot desert sun an

my heavy thirst convinced me that if



didn’t get back to my weather shac

soon, I wouldn’t be much longer for thi

world. Some of the exposed stones an

parts of the steel theodolite stand weralready becoming painfully hot to th

ouch. Still, I needed to rest and let th

pain in my left knee subside beformaking any more moves.

I positioned myself so that I wa

sitting with my back leaning against th

heodolite stand, facing slightlnortheast. It was a steel stand set i

heavy concrete. It could easily hav

supported several tons. I was sittinhere praying for God’s help when I firs

noticed something out of place out in th

desert. It was something white, hidin

behind the sagebrush out along the roa



owards the ammunition bunker.

“Oh, NO!” I exclaimed to myself. I

was about a half a mile away at the time

All I could see was the top half of ithead from its eyes up. It was peering a

me from behind the distant plant tha

concealed it. It stood up momentarilyreaching a height of at least 6 feet, an

ran to the next closer plant. It wa

humanoid, chalk white, and very slim. I

covered the distance by running aalmost 30 miles an hour. It was now

painfully obvious that I was in ver

serious trouble.Still further in the distance I could se

a large white object sitting on the deser

floor. The white object was at least th



size of a large two-car garage. It wa

sitting at the base of the mountains by th

ammunition bunker, northeast of me

Slowly, carefully, deliberately, thewhite creature began closing th

distance between us. It continued to hid

behind the plants, and peer at me froover their tops. Within a matter of a few

minutes, it had closed from thre

quarters of a mile to less than 500 fee

from me. Only a hand-full of healthplants separated it from me. Peering at i

hrough the hot summer haze, the deser

heat waves, the dirt, the sweat, and thblood running into my eyes, I stil

couldn’t tell exactly what it was, but it’

presence terrified me. My silly jumpin

had turned this pleasant carefre



morning into a life or death struggle wit

he unknown.

Sitting on the ground as I was, I woul

be totally unable to defend myself if thwhite creature chose to close th

distance between us. I realized that if

made the mistake of panicking, my lasslim chance for survival woul

evaporate. Having no other choice an

believing that my swollen left knee wa

broken; I stuffed several large stonento my pockets, grabbed onto my stand

and desperately pulled myself to

standing position. The pain was sexcruciating that I became dizzy fo

several minutes. However, I used m

uninjured right leg to support myself, an



clung grimly to the burning hot stan

until my mind cleared. Through it all, th

pain caused me to scream and shout an

o curse the fate that had brought mhere. In the distance, I could hear th

phone in my weather shack. It rang man

imes before finally falling silent.When my mind finally cleared and th

pain subsided a little, I could see tha

once again the white creature had close

he distance between us. It remainestationary now, hiding behind the las

clump of sagebrush, some 300 fee

away, which separated the two of us. decided to shout at it. I needed to d

something to control the terror that wa

surging within me.

Taking a deep breath, I shouted



angrily out into the desert, “You’re no

going to surprise me. I see you out there

’m healthier than I look, you know!” To

my surprise, the white creature visiblflinched. Then it suddenly fell back

hundred feet or so along the bunker road

could hardly believe my eyes.In the distance down by th

ammunition bunker, I could see a second

white creature advancing slowly

sagebrush to sagebrush, along the samroad as the first creature had done

Through breaks in the sagebrush, I coul

see that it carried a white object abouhe size of a doctor’s medical bag. As

watched in terror and amazement,

noticed that the large white garage size



object had drifted diagonally closer

ow it stood no more than a mile out i

he desert. Slowly it closed the distanc

between itself and the ammunitiobunker, all in perfect silence.

momentarily forgot about my injurie

and wondered what could possibly bgoing on?

As I watched, a third white creatur

appeared from hiding behind th

sagebrush down at the far end of thbunker road. Then it too started slowl

advancing. It advanced more slowly tha

he other two along the road towards thfirst two. Once again the phone in m

weather shack began ringing. Once agai

after many rings, it fell silent.

I stood transfixed for a few minutes b



he scene unfolding down along th

bunker road. As I watched, the firs

white creature quickly fell back alon

he bunker road to a sagebrush covereridge a half mile back, watching me al

he time. The second white creatur

waited there to meet him. Then they botwaited behind the sagebrush on the ridg

while the third white creature slowl

advanced to meet them. When the thir

white creature finally arrived at thridge, it was handed the small medical

ike bag by the second creature. Then th

first creature fell back quickly along throad towards the white garage size

object, which now sat on the desert floo

near the ammunition bunker.



The second white creature remaine

stationary, peering at me from behind th

brush on the half-mile ridge along th

bunker road. He appeared to react nowand then to orders given him by th

white nurse-like creature, convincing m

hat she must be of very high rank.After a few minutes the third whit

creature, carrying the white bag, bega

o advance towards me. It wa

advancing much slower than the othewo had. However, it was advancin

with such steadiness and such obviou

determination that I was now certain ntended to continue advancing, until

had broken out from the sagebrush an

confronted me close up. Once again



error started welling up inside me.

Believing now that I understood how

men feel, men who are forced to figh

desperate battles and face the unknowalone, I grimly assessed my situation.

had to get back to my weather shack a

any price. Unable to crawl or walk, was going to have to hop the distance o

my right leg. There was simply no othe

way. I took a deep breath, bravely let go

of the metal stand, and began hopping omy right leg towards my weather shac

some 50 feet distant. It wasn’t much of

plan. After only three hops, I lost mbalance and began falling towards th

concrete hard gravel. Without thinking,

used my left leg to catch my weight an

regain my balance. The pain that sho



hrough my left knee as my left leg too

he weight of my body can’t b

described. Instinctively I turned bac

owards the safety of the stand. I hoppesome more and once again was forced t

use my left leg to catch myself befor

finally reaching the safety of the standGrimly I hung on to the stand and waite

for the dizziness and pain to subside.

could hear the phone in my weathe

shack ring again another eight or teimes.

After a few minutes my mind cleare

and once again I took stock of msituation. The third white creature ha

paused and was now watching me fro

some 500 feet distant. I began checkin



my left knee to see how much damage

had caused by hopping. To my immens

surprise, my left knee now felt bette

han it had before. As I carefully testedhe four muscles around my kneecap, th

conclusion was inescapable. I had

errible bruise, especially under thkneecap, but my knee wasn’t broken

one of my knee ligaments seemed tor

or damaged. My knee easily took th

weight of my body and was nowbeginning to improve rapidly. Carefull

began placing my full weight on my lef

eg and knee. It hurt, but the more pressed down on my knee, the better i

felt. I could hardly believe my goo

fortune.

I waited for a few minutes for the pai



n my left knee to subside from my las

weight test. I decided that I should sta

active, to control the terror within me.

grabbed hold of the metal cover for thheodolite that sat on the ground by th

base of the stand. Lifting it carefully,

placed it in its normal position over thheodolite. Then I closed the cover an

ocked it, accidentally pinching m

finger when I did so. Once again I foun

myself shaking my tender left hand ipain. As I did so, I noticed that the third

white creature resumed its slow an

steady advance towards me. Now it haclosed to the last clump of sagebrus

only 300 feet distant. Instinctively

stepped out from the theodolite stand an



pretended to place my weight equally o

both feet. Hoping to scare it off,

shouted angrily, “I’m ready for you. I’m

not injured like you think. I’ll put up good battle. Don’t come any close

because I’m getting healthier by th

minute. I’ll defend myself to the death’ll go to my God like a soldier.”

This white creature didn’t flinch o

react. It just stayed there, carefull

watching my every move. It was obviouo me that it was planning to break out o

he sagebrush and close on me. I wa

errified by the prospect of having tconfront it alone and out in the open. Th

pain had subsided in my left knee. I too

a deep breath of air. Once again I too

off hopping and limping towards m



weather shack. The more I exercised m

eft knee, the better it got. By the time

reached the front door of my weathe

shack I was walking with only a heavimp. I expected the white creature to b

right behind me. When I reached th

front door to my shack, I immediatelswiveled, placed my back to the oute

shack wall and turned to meet m

expected attacker. I expected to find th

white creature out in the open, closinon me fast, but when I turned I wa

greeted only by the gentle laughter of th

desert winds. After several minutes osearching, I finally located the thir

white creature. It had fallen back mor

han a quarter mile along the bunke



road. Hardly believing my eyes, I stoo

here for a few minutes catching m

breath and studying the situation.

checked my watch. The entire ordeal haaken more than two hours.

Carefully I climbed into my weathe

shack and closed the side door fosafety. Then I got hold of the gallon ja

of drinking water that I had brought wit

me and began drinking. I placed m

phone on the floor by me and sat down the front doorway. I used a little of th

water to clean several of the deeper cut

on my left leg and arm. Then I spit on mdeeper wounds, and one by one,

carefully pressed them closed so tha

hey would heal properly. I rested for

ittle while more, rehearsing in my min



he words I would say to Desert Center

t was now clear to me that I coul

easily make it over to my parked truc

and drive myself into Mojave Wells, so wouldn’t need to be rescued. Usually,

enjoyed my duty on the ranges. I wa

reluctant to give up the extra pay anndependence that came with it. All

would really have to tell Desert Cente

was that I was canceling the winds fo

he rest of the week. I could just say thahad the flu. Out along the bunker road

he third white creature had fallen bac

o the half-mile ridge and appeared to bgiving orders to the second. Then th

second fell back towards the whit

garage sized object that was parked b



he ammunition bunker. The first whit

creature was nowhere to be seen.

After my knee had rested for a few

minutes, I decided that I would calDesert Center and tell them my flu story

and head into Mojave Wells. The flu

seemed like a good enough excuse nowhat my left knee was healing so rapidly

was drinking some more water an

getting ready to dial when the phon

rang. “Range three, Charlie,” answered.

“Charlie, You’re alive!” exclaimed

my friend Dwight, on the other end of thine.

Taken off guard, I responded, “Wh

wouldn’t I be?”

“The Desert Center base commande



has called the station here, at least thre

imes in the last couple hours, Charlie

He’s been near beside himself wit

anxiety. He said that some woman up iMojave Wells reported that you were in

serious trouble up there. She said you’

broken your left leg, and couldn’t geback to your weather shack to phone u

for help. She said you were lying injure

n a pile of thorns, screaming in agony

She made it sound like you were out owater and dying or something.”

Caught with my guard down,

responded showing surprise, “I donunderstand what you’re saying, Dwigh

Some woman in Mojave Wells phoned

he two star general commanding Deser



Center just to tell him that I had bruise

my knee out in the desert?”

“Well, yes,” responded Dwight

obviously giving his answer somhought. “That’s what the general said.

spoke to him myself on the phone. H

didn’t actually say that she’d phoned hihough. He made it sound as if she’

phoned the Pentagon, and they’d phone

him. Right now, the entire Desert Cente

base hospital is on emergency statuwaiting to rush you in for knee surgery

They’re waiting for the base commande

o allow the two rescue choppers to takoff and come get you. Your friend Payne

s packing his things over in the barrack

and getting ready to replace you. Th

first Sergeant is planning on bringin



him up to Steve’s barracks at Mojav

Wells as soon as it’s dark. But if you’re

healthy, I’ll call the barracks and tel

Payne to forget it. He didn’t want to gup there anyway. You know how the

ranges frighten him.”

“I don’t understand,” I continued“Sure, I fell and bruised my knee, but it

much better now. Sure I was lying out i

a patch of thorns and sagebrush out in th

desert for a long time screaming that mknee was broken. But you know I’

more than 22 miles out in the desert. Yo

know that when I’m out here, no one iown could ever possibly see me. I don

know any women up here. What woma

could possibly have seen me bruise m



knee and phone the Pentagon?” My gaz

wandered naturally out into the desert

Out there, along the bunker road at half

mile ridge, the third white creaturremained posted behind the sagebrush

watching my every move.

Dwight continued, “As I understand ishe called some four star general in th

Pentagon in D.C. He phoned the Deser

Center base commander. I guess she go

him out of a National Security meetinand everything. According to th

general, you have more friends than yo

realize, Charlie.“You know Jackson, that weathe

observer I told you about who claime

he had spoken in person with Rang

Four Harry? Well, you know, a few



ears ago when I was talking to Jackson

he claimed that one time he got a littl

drunk and stumbled around out at rang

four for a few hours in the daytime. Hclaimed that old Range Four Harry cam

n out of the desert in broad daylight an

everything and stood around and talkeo him, just to make sure that he was OK

Has anything like that ever happened t

ou?”

Defensively, I answered, “You know’m not much of a drinking man. I neve

drink anything alcoholic when I’m ou

here or when I’m going to be driving oanything. But one morning when I had th

flu real bad and I was too sick to walk

something like that happened to m



down by the range three gate. I’ll tel

ou about it the next time we ge

ogether.”

Dwight laughed, “I’ll take you up ohat one, Charlie. You know Jackson

always claimed that he was the onl

alcoholic whose hallucinations coulrescue him if he ever got in trouble. I’

sure glad that woman was wrong abou

ou breaking your leg.”

Out along the bunker road, the whitcreature continued to watch me fro

half-mile ridge. I noticed that sh

appeared to flinch and became veragitated when Dwight said that th

woman had been wrong about my broke

eg. I wondered what it all meant.

wondered if she could tell what Dwigh



was saying to me. After all, it was m

private telephone line, wasn’t it?

“Right, Dwight.” I responded. “Bu

whoever she was, she wasn’t verwrong. Well, I have to lock up now and

get back in to my barracks to nurse thi

bruised knee.”“You sure you don’t need knee surger

or some x-rays or stitches o

something?” Dwight continued. “You

know the entire Desert Center bashospital is waiting for you! You know

he Pentagon has ordered the bas

hospital to move to emergency status juso get you back into working order! You

know the base commander is worrie

about your medical status. Shouldn’t yo



at least let the rescue chopper come pic

ou up once you get back into base an

bring you down here for x-rays

According to the general, the choppewould even take you back up there onc

he doctors said you’re OK.”

“No thanks, Dwight,” I replienonchalantly. “Tell the general none o

hat is necessary. I’ll be good as new by

morning. Tell the base commande

hanks, but I’m fine. I don’t need to bwasting the base hospital’s time wit

hese minor bruises.”

“Well, if you say so, Charlie,” statedDwight, obviously not convinced that m

njuries didn’t need a doctor’s attention

“I better hang up now and spread th

word that you’re alive and well. Bot



Payne and the base commander will b

glad to hear it.”

I hung up the phone, locked up m

shack, limped over to the generatoshack, and shut down the diesel. Then

imped to my truck, climbed in an

started the engine. The truck was manuashift. Shifting gears with my left kne

bruised was quite awkward. So I too

my time and drove slowly back int

base. I was surprised to find the gate trange three was open when I got there.

was certain that I had closed it in th

morning when I last came through it. Ahe time I was actually quite glad it wa

open. Getting in and out of my truck t

open it, had it been closed, would hav



been a painful operation because of m

knee.

Once I got back to my barracks,

spent the remainder of the day nursinmy bruises, taking a warm shower

putting some rubbing alcohol on my cuts

resting my knee, and sleeping in mbunk. The day’s events had left m

exhausted. It was going on 6.00 p.m

when I finally awoke. I hurried up to th

chow hall for the evening meal, stilimping noticeably, very hungry from

having missed the noon meal. My frien

Smokey met me at the door. Teasing, hegreeted me, “Charlie, you’re so late tha

we’re all out of the regular food. Bu

don’t worry. Just for you, we have suga

sandwiches and barbecued squirrel.”



was laughing almost too hard to get m

coffee. Then turning serious, h

continued, “You know, Charlie, even

hough the ranges are closed, there musbe something very special going on ou

here tomorrow.”

“Why do you say that, Smokey?” asked thoughtfully.

“The Desert Center base commande

himself called up the chow hall here. H

called three times in the last hour tryino reach you. I guess you were sleepin

oo soundly to hear your barracks phone

The air policeman is on his day off, she general made me swear that I woul

personally deliver his orders to you

under pain of court martial.”



Once again, off balance and nervou

because of my unnecessary bruises,

asked defensively, “What would he wan

with me?”Smokey answered slowly an

deliberately, “He wanted to mak

certain that you received the ballooschedule for tomorrow.”

“What is it?” I asked naively.

“The Desert Center command pos

needs exactly one balloon run tomorrowThen you’ll be given free medical leav

for the rest of tomorrow and all da

Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. That wilallow you plenty of time to spend th

weekend having fun and resting up i

Los Angeles. The first balloon run o



next week won’t be until 10:00 a.m. O

Monday, you will be able to have a nic

breakfast and make a leisurely drive ou

o the ranges,” Smokey respondecarefully. “However, the Desert Cente

base commander made it crystal clea

hat you are ordered to take the 4:30 a.mrun tomorrow, and only the 4:30 a.m

run, at any price. I’m ordered to phon

he Desert Center command post as soo

as I have delivered his orders.” Nervous, I responded, “Did it see

ike he was angry with me? Or out t

discipline me for injuring myself?”“He’s a general,” answered Smokey

“Who can tell how generals think. H

was emphatic that no one but you i

allowed out on the ranges for the rest o



he week.” Then, after pausing, Smoke

continued seriously, “Whatever is ou

here, Charlie, You’re going to have to

face it alone.”Trying to regain my composure,

shrugged, “That’s no problem. All that’

out there are jackrabbits and coyotes. thguy before me must have barbecued up

all the squirrels.” Then I tried to laug

some.

“I hope so, Charlie. For your sake, hope so. Just the same, I wish you woul

et me or one of the range rats like Stev

or Doug go out there with you. You’lneed someone out there to watch you

back while you’re working. You’ll need

someone to protect you. We could hide



n the truck or behind the buildings o

out in the sagebrush. No one would eve

have to know that we disobeyed th

general’s orders.”“That’s nice of you Smokey.”

answered sincerely. “But I’m not in an

danger when I go out there. There’s noreason for you guys to risk court-martia

ust for me. Don’t worry, I’ll b

perfectly OK by myself, just as I alway

am.”But Smokey was not to be put off s

easily. He continued probing

“Seriously, Charlie, when you’re ouhere, do you ever see any sign of thos

people that Wayne says live up in those

mountains northeast of here?”

“You mean that story Wayne tells o



seeing chalk white people wit

hieroglyphics and writing like th

ancient Egyptians? The ones he swear

are dug into those mountains way up ahe north end of Mojave Wells valley?”

responded.

“Yes,” answered Smokey. “I knowt’s more than 100 miles up there, bu

ou know how Wayne always swear

hat Range Four Harry is one of thos

people, and that he speaks perfecEnglish.”

“No,” I casually responded. “I’v

never seen much of anything up in thosmountains. I’ve never been able t

accept Wayne’s story, anyway.” Denyin

reality, even to myself, came so easy.



Smokey could see that I wa

obviously lying to myself. H

persevered. “How about that family o

ost pioneers that Doug says lives up ihose same mountains?” He aske

ntently. “You know how he believe

hat back in the 1800’s a pioneer familgot lost up in those mountains and coul

never get out. You know how he

believes that incest and in-breeding se

n, and their descendants still live uhere, today, super intelligent and al

chalk white and mutated.”

“No,” I smoothly responded. Thpleasant smile on Smokey’s face proved

he could see right through my obviou

self-deception.



“Well, you’ll be in good company i

ou ever do see anything unusual ou

here, Charlie,” Smokey stated sincerely

“All those other weather observers didWhat they saw used to scare the devi

out of them. Sooner or later, every on

of them showed up here begging fosympathy with their coffee an

sandwiches. That’s why you’re the onl

one who’ll ever go out there anymore.”

My knee started to ache again. I saigoodnight to Smokey, and returned to m

barracks for a warm shower and a goo

night’s sleep.The next day began simply enough

othing unusual had happened in m

barracks during the night and I’d slep



quite well. I had also gotte

exceptionally good at denying the realit

of the previous day’s events. The desert

his summer night, was wearing its usuacathedral-like beauty. Warm gentle

nighttime breezes greeted me as

walked, sang, and limped slowly acroshe barracks parking lot towards m

weather truck. It was 3:05 a.m. on m

watch. Since the general had ordere

hat the 4:30 balloon run be taken, wanted to be punctual. Generals aren

usually very good at accepting excuses.

It was a beautiful drive out to ranghree. There was nothing unusual abou

he drive but I drove cautiously just th

same. When I passed through the rang

hree gate, I carefully stopped my truc



and closed the gate behind me. I wa

following the range procedures to th

etter because I was afraid of upsettin

he general any further.I visually checked every nook an

cranny in the valley before getting bac

nto my truck. As I drove, I continued tocarefully check every distant canyon an

ridge where I had ever seen lights, othe

objects, or even jackrabbits. On thi

morning, there was simply nothing out ohe ordinary. Consequently, I soon

relaxed, assumed a boyish type attitud

about everything and passed the timsinging to myself as I drove.

I wondered why the Desert Cente

base commander had been so insisten



about this morning’s wind

measurements. It certainly wasn’t lik

him. After all, I noted to myself, h

wasn’t even part of my normal weatheservice chain of command. After givin

he matter some thought, I decided tha

he was probably upset over my sill“Olympic training accident”. I guesse

hat he had probably decided to com

down hard on me for a few days

Privately, I agreed with him. A littlemore military discipline certainl

wouldn’t hurt me any. I decided to wai

a week or so and let my knee heal upbefore taking my truck on another jo

ride up the valley or over to th

ammunition bunker.

Soon the buildings of range thre



could be seen sparkling in the moonligh

up ahead. I approached the building

with extra caution, but there was nothin

unusual to be seen. The entire MojavWells Valley was simply deserted.

I let my truck roll to a stop on the wes

side of the generator shack. I got out tstart the morning’s activities, singing as

went. My knee was still tender but I wa

now walking with only a slight limp.

was quite proud of myself, really, fohaving ‘walked off such a painful bruise

By the time I got the diesel generato

started, I was well on my way to havina wonderful morning.

I left my truck parked parallel to th

generator shack facing north, jus



opposite the second set of double door

hat remained closed. The generato

shack held two huge diesel engines. Thi

morning, for no particular reason I hastarted the southern diesel. Therefore,

had opened the southern set of doubl

doors, the set in front of the diesel that had started. Without the slightest bit o

apprehension, I easily walked th

remaining distance to my weather shack

was very early, so I was surprised tofind my phone start ringing as I unlocke

he front door. “Either Desert Center i

awfully impatient for the winds, or thabase commanding general is determine

o burn me,” I said to myself as

answered the phone. “Range thre

weather shack, Charlie speaking.”



The voice on the other end was m

friend Payne. “Charlie, I’m glad you’r

here,” He exclaimed. “I just reassure

he Desert Center base commander thaou were out there, wide awake, and o

duty this morning. After I got him off th

phone, I thought I’d better make sureDon’t worry, Charlie, if you’d bee

sleeping in the barracks or something

’d have covered for you. I’d have eve

made up the winds,” he laughed. “Youknow I’m good at it.”

Laughing, I responded, “Thanks

Payne. I really appreciate it. But surprises me that the General would b

up this early, just to make certain tha

’m releasing a balloon in the desert



Makes you wonder what the rest of th

officers are doing with their time

doesn’t it?”

“It sure does, Charlie,” respondePayne. “But this place is so screwed u

hat it doesn’t surprise me. What doe

surprise me, Charlie, is where you gehe guts to drive out there alone ever

morning as you do. I sure never would

Man when I’m up there, if I don’t have

range rat or someone to go out there witme, I just make up those winds an

phone them in using the chow hall phone

would never dream of going out therat night as you do. That stretch of deser

s just too scary to suit me.”

“Well, you certainly have more

common sense than I do Payne,”



aughed, “or I’d be sitting down in th

Mojave Wells chow hall making up the

ow level winds right now too.” Goo

friends that we were, we both laughefor a few minutes. Then I continued

“Well, I’d better let you go and get thi

balloon in the air or that general wilhave me for sure.”

“Right,” responded Payne. Then h

continued, “That general had somethin

else he was real worried about tooCharlie.”

“Really, what was it?” I asked i

surprise.“He wanted to make certain that yo

shut down the diesels before you leav

he ranges this morning,” Payne stated i



a matter of fact manner.

Flabbergasted, I responded, “But yo

know I always shut everything down an

ock everything up before I leave. Youknow I’ve always been very good abou

hat. What’s he going on about that for?”

“I don’t know, Charlie.” Paynanswered sympathetically. “But he sur

oves that generator this morning, so b

sure not to forget it when you go bac

nto base.”“If he calls again, be sure to tell hi

hat I have everything covered,”

replied submissively. “And tell him I’lbe more careful about my knee in th

future.”

“Right, Charlie. Good luck,” sai

Payne as he signed off.



Angry and frustrated, I hung up th

phone. “That general has no reason to b

riding me so hard just because I slippe

on the gravel and banged up my knee,” muttered angrily to myself. “If tha

healthy high-ranking general wasn’t s

military, this’d be pretty good duty,” exclaimed as I assembled my heliu

gauges and filled the balloon.

Ready now for the balloon release,

urned on my radio, tuned it to a locaPalm Meadows radio station, an

verified the time on my watch. I decide

o perform one last security check. stepped outside into the warm moonl

summer night. I visually checked th

valley again, the ammunition bunker an



ts road, the mountains to the north and t

he northeast, the entrance to a small sid

canyon on the west side some forty mile

north of me, and the shadows behind thrange three lounge. There was simpl

nothing out of place. The starl

cathedral-like valley could hardly havbeen more captivating, or more deserted

The desert silence was broken only b

he music from my radio.

The balloon run went smoothly anflawlessly, so it happened that by 4:50

a.m. I was phoning Desert Center wit

he results. Payne reminded me that thiwas the last run for the day, and that th

general had phoned a second time t

guarantee that the diesel would be shu

down properly. He finished copying th



results. Then he informed me that th

Desert Center forecaster, maste

sergeant Adams had just received

another phone call from the general. Hwas relaying the winds to him as w

spoke. I thanked my friend Payne an

hung up the phone. I noted that it wanow 4:55 a.m. Satisfied with m

punctuality, I exclaimed to myself, “Tha

should get that base commanding genera

off me for a while.”I shut down my weather shack, locke

he doors, and walked smoothly to m

parked weather truck. My left knee wacontinuing to improve. My left hand, m

knee, and my ankle, were still swolle

and bruised, with black and blue spot



all up and down my left leg. Althoug

my wounds, especially my knee, wer

still very tender, I now walked easil

without a noticeable limp.I climbed into my weather truck

started the engine, and turned on th

headlights. It wasn’t unusual for me tstart my truck before shutting down th

diesel generator. Usually, I did so

because the sound of my truck engin

made me feel more secure, which enjoyed, being alone so far out in th

desert. This morning was no exception

t was still dark outside. The moon wabeautiful and shining. As I sat letting th

engine in my truck warm up, my gaz

urned naturally towards the northern se

of double doors on the generator shack



he closed set. From behind them, a sof

white fluorescent light showed ou

hrough the various cracks. I knew th

nside of the generator shack like thback of my hand. I couldn’t think o

anything inside which could possibly b

a source for the light. It was immediatelapparent to me that something was out o

place. I hadn’t eaten yet, and was hungr

for breakfast. One way or another

before I could eat I was going to have tshut down the diesel. I supposed that th

ight was probably the moonlight, o

stray light from my truck’s headlightsWithout giving the matter so much as

second thought, I set the parking brak

on my truck, left the engine running i



neutral, left the lights on and opened th

ruck door. I stepped smoothly out of m

ruck onto the gravel outside, an

humming to myself, I strode quicklacross the graveled surface in throug

he southern set of double doors, th

open set. Still humming, I stopped aast, directly in front of the still runnin

generator. With a practiced hand, I threw

several switches to the ‘off’ position

and shut off the fuel flow to thcarburetor.

Then as I waited for the diesel to star

shutting down, a process which takeseveral minutes, I began turning my hea

o check on the fluorescent light comin

from the inside corner of the shack, t

my left. My head was still only hal



urned, but already the source of the ligh

was coming into my field of vision

nstinctively, the muscles in my bod

began to tighten as my eyes began tfocus. There was a tall thin man-lik

creature wearing a white fluorescen

suit, probably six feet tall. He had chalwhite skin, blonde hair, large blue eyes

a non-protruding nose, and an otherwis

human-like mouth. He was standing onl

15 feet from me. He had a pencil-liknstrument of some type pointed directl

at my left temple. “This is not going t

hurt Charlie, but your generals reallhave to inspect that damaged knee,” h

said in perfect English.

There wasn’t time for me to move o



respond. There was only time enough fo

me to realize that I was standing face t

face with Range Four Harry.

I felt a slight shudder run through mbody, and my vision suddenly went ou

of focus. Then my muscles seemed t

freeze into place and my mind seemed twander into a daze for just an instant o

so. It seemed like only a second or tw

passed before I was able to regai

control over my thoughts and snap out ohe daze I was in. It took only anothe

second or two for me to refocus m

vision and take a couple of deebreathes. Finally I got control of m

muscles and came to my senses. I foun

myself still standing in nearly the sam

position in front of the diesel, with m



head still half turned, looking at th

sidewall of the generator shack. Onl

now, there wasn’t anything in the corne

o my left. Now there wasn’t any lighThere wasn’t any plastic. There wasn

any man-like creature. There simpl

wasn’t anything but reflected morninsunlight coming through the cracks in th

closed set of double doors. The corne

was completely empty. Stunned and

confused, I turned my attention bacowards the diesel engine. It was totall

shut down. Shocked, I checked th

manifold, expecting it to be nearly redhot, but it was stone cold. There was n

way to fight the confusion flooding ove

my mind. I knew from experience tha



he diesel’s manifold took more than a

hour to cool off. Still it seemed as i

only an instant of time had passed.

checked myself over. I was unhurt. didn’t have a mark on me. Dazed,

stumbled from the generator shack

rying to regain control of myself. As came through the open door I was almos

overwhelmed by the feeling that I ha

stood there just a short time earlier an

watched something land out in thsagebrush to the west of me. I checke

my watch. It had stopped at 5:05.

Outside of the generator shack I founhe sun was already well above th

horizon. My mind fought with th

obvious fact that at least two hours ha

passed since I had first entered th



shack. I stood there in the mornin

sunshine for a few minutes, and too

stock of my situation. My handkerchief

which I usually kept in my left reapocket, was stuffed awkwardly in m

right front pocket. My left pants leg wa

urned up by half a turn. My fatigue hawhich I had worn into the generato

shack, was no longer anywhere on me.

stumbled to my truck and grabbed ont

he door handle and the open windowmore for the feeling of security tha

anything. Then I noticed that my truc

engine was no longer running and mheadlights had been turned off. M

fatigue hat was sitting on the truck’

front seat. The truck itself had move



more than ten feet. I found myself fille

with a momentary deep-seate

unwillingness to look towards th

mountains in the distant northeast, or ounto the desert to the west. Yet nothing in

sight appeared to be out of place.

Unable or unwilling to comprehenwhat had happened, I decided that

needed to get back into bas

mmediately and regroup. I was s

confused. I hardly knew what to do. ust couldn’t accept the obvious fact tha

at least two hours had gone by since I’

entered the generator shack. Feelings ofear and dread were rapidly welling u

nside of me. I quickly closed an

atched the doors to the generator shac

and climbed into my truck. I breathed



big sigh of relief as the truck engin

roared to life. Feeling terrified

confused, alone, in total denial, I waste

no time heading back into town, to thsecurity of Smokey and his chow hall. I

was also clear to me that starting tonigh

would be bunking in a barracks withe other men.



In Memor y of Me

. . . As often as you shall do thesethings…

Luke 22:19

“Bless me Father, for I have sinned,”

began slowly. It was Sunday morning a

he Mojave Wells base chapel

Confessions for Catholics, like myselfwere held just before Sunday Mass.

“Yes, yes, my son, on with it,” the old

priest hurried me along. He was wonderful, holy, and dedicated priest

easily pushing 75, and very Irish. H

was based in far away San Bernardino



Each Sunday, he and a younger pries

drove a circuit that covered half of th

Mojave. I loved his sermons an

admired his honesty. Frequently, hanked God for my conversion t

Roman Catholicism just because

enjoyed his sermons so much. He waarge, tall, and heavy set. How he foun

he energy to make the long drive fro

San Bernardino was always a mystery t

me.“I had too much beer to drink las

night, Father, and almost got drunk,”

humbly continued.“Yes, Yes,” he hurried me along

“Young Irish lads like yourself alway

get together and enjoy a few good beers

Jesus understands. Now get on with it



There are others waiting.”

Off balance, I humbly continued, “An

got into a fight with one of the othe

Airmen. It was my fault. I should havbeen more patient with him. I apologize

his morning and shook hands with hi

before coming to Mass.”“Yes, Yes,” he hurried me along

“Young Irish lads are always up for a

good fight. That’s how we protected

ourselves from the heathen English. Afew good bruises never hurt any one o

hem. Now get on with it. There’r

English sinners waiting.”“And, and,” I stammered, “I overslep

ast Sunday and missed Mass.”

Right there, he stopped me. “Misse



Mass?” he exclaimed in raised tones.

could see immediately that I had sinne

badly, and I was in big trouble.

“Our Irish Catholic heritage is sprecious,” he continued angrily. “If w

start missing Mass on Sunday, why

we’ll be no better than the EnglishAlways remember that God created tw

chosen people. First there were th

Jews. Then Jesus came, the Jew

rejected him, and he was crucified. TheGod chose the Irish! Every Irishma

knows that salvation of the world i

coming first through the Jews, and thehrough the Irish. God wants you t

attend the Mass every Sunday, my son

even if you’re sick, bruised up, dea

drunk, or hung over. Every Sunday, you



place is here in the church kneelin

before God, celebrating the Mass. Go

wants you here, not because you ar

worthy to be here my son, but because hchose you and called you to be here.”

I could see that the good father had hi

own ideas about things.It was a hot summer Sunday. The blu

desert skies were decorated with th

usual high wispy cirrus and cooled b

he usual gentle desert winds. AfteMass, I rested, back in my barracks

Then I went for the noon meal. When

was over, I returned to my barrackspicked up a clean towel, switched int

my swim trunks, and headed up to th

Mojave Wells base swimming pool



which was an open swimming pool, an

perfectly maintained. There was n

ifeguard. I began by opening the poo

Then I unlocked the pool equipmenhouse that sat next to it, and turned on th

circulation pumps. The equipment hous

was constructed entirely out of concretblocks. Like the pool, it was surrounde

by gravel. It had no windows, and wa

only 6 feet high, with a peaked roof.

As usual, when I arrived I found six oso young children in swim trunks waitin

for me. Their parents lived in town

They would let them swim only if aadult were present. I opened the poo

recited the rules, and jumped into th

warm water announcing that I was read

o play our favorite water game. It was



game that I had made up myself. I calle

t “The destroyer Haymman game”. Th

dea was to teach each of the youn

children how to swim by making it a fugame for them. Those children wh

already knew how to swim woul

pretend to be German submarinesurking out in the deep water, waiting to

attack by splashing water in bi

columns. Those who were still learnin

would pretend to be British cargo shiprying to make it across the cold dar

waters of the North Atlantic from

America to England, really the shallowend of the pool, trying to make it acros

any way they could by swimming o

earning to swim. I was the destroye



Haymman, who was trying desperatel

o protect the convoy by teaching them t

swim better, and by splashing bi

columns of water, supposedly deptcharges, to drive off the Germa

submarines, who might attack unde

water. If the German submarinecouldn’t be driven off, the destroye

Haymman would be forced to cr

UNCLE’ and all of the British cargo

ships would be forced to head for thsafety of Iceland, also known as the sid

of the pool. The game also taught th

children some geography. It was a fugame, and the children just loved playin

t. Soon I had them all swimming lik

experts across the deep end. My frien

Clark usually came as well, and we al



played together.

There was one little girl I especiall

remember. She was only six years old o

so. On this day she was sitting on thsteps of the pool, laughing as happy as

ittle girl can laugh. She had just gotte

used to holding her breath and duckinher head under water. I was bent over on

he side of the pool next to her, laughin

because the destroyer Haymman had jus

been forced to break off a convoy run imid ocean. The little Germa

submarines were getting too good. A

she sat there laughing, she giggled, “MrCharlie Baker, you are so much fun, m

other friends want to play with you.”

“Well, you can bring your othe



friends with you when you come,”

aughed in return. “Tell them to come i

heir swim suits, and I’ll teach them t

swim too. Tell them the destroyeHaymman has lots of cargo ships tha

have to be convoyed to England.”

“But, they aren’t able to swim,” shresponded.

“That’s no problem,” I laughed. “Th

destroyer Haymman can teach any huma

how to swim.”“I know, but their mother told them

hey can’t come because they can neve

earn to swim,” the little girl continuennocently.

Stunned, I stood there, waist deep i

pool water for a few minutes, staring a

he little girl. Mojave Wells was a very



small town. I thought I had met all of th

children. I remembered that this littl

girl lived in an ordinary house on th

southeast edge of town. Only an ordinarshort wire fence separated her back yar

from the sagebrush and the nearb

mountains beyond. I had seen a group ofour white fluorescent lights float out o

hose mountains, cross the fence, an

continue into the little girl’s backyard, a

was walking back to my barracks a fewnights before. It took me a few minute

before I could form my next words. The

continued slowly, “But surely theimother knows that every human ca

earn to swim.”

“Yes,” the little girl answered. “Thei



mother knows that very well. She’s

eacher.”

“Do you play with your friend

often?” I slowly asked.“Yes,” she responded. “On summe

nights I leave my bedroom window

open. Then after my mother puts me tbed, my friends come down from th

mountain, and in through my window

Then they play with me. Their teache

always stays outside. Usually we play imy bedroom, but sometimes they take m

outside and we play in my backyard.”

“Doesn’t your mother ever hear yoplaying, and come into your room to se

f you’re asleep?” I asked.

“No,” the little girl replied. “M

friends always wait until my mother i



asleep.”

“But your mother stays up quite late

doesn’t she?” I continued. “I know you

father works late into the night. Doesnour mother stay up and wait for him?”

“Yes,” she replied. “But that doesn’

matter. My mother always goes to sleepust before my friends come. Usually m

mother goes to sleep in the kitchen

Usually she goes to sleep sitting in on

of the chairs at the kitchen table. But onnight last week, she was standing in fron

of the sink, getting ready to do the dishe

for almost an hour. When I went out toget a glass of water, she just stood ther

without moving. My mother wouldn

speak to me, or anything. The teache



old me not to worry. She said m

mother was just asleep and that sh

would wake up and be just fine, as soo

as my friends left. The teacher was rightAs soon as my friends left, my mothe

woke up happy, and just went right o

humming and washing the dishes.”I was too numb, confused, and cold t

answer. I took a lap of the pool around

he deep end to collect my thoughts

Then I returned to the side of the pooand continued, “If your friends want t

come to the pool with you, and just pla

on the other side of the fence, they canThat might be fun.”

“OK,” she laughed. “But they can

come in the daytime, Mr. Charlie. Could

ou come out and be the lifeguar



omorrow night after dark so me and m

friends could come and play?”

I struggled for a long time befor

answering. “Ok. Just for you, I’ll comout tomorrow evening at 6:30 and be th

ife guard until 9:00 p.m.”

“But that’s not late enough, MrCharlie,” she responded. “My friend

never come that early. Could you com

out at midnight and be the lifeguard unti

3:00 a.m.? We can play then.”Still struggling with my answers,

responded, “I can come out at 6:30 in th

evening and stay until after midnight, bu will have to close the pool by 12:3

a.m. If you want me to walk you back t

our house, I will, but then I have to g



right back to my barracks and get m

sleep. That will leave me with only

hours of sleep before I have to get up

again and take the first weather reportBut are you sure that your mother will le

ou stay up playing at the pool tha

ate?”“Don’t worry. It’ll be alright,” th

ittle girl replied. “My mother will go t

sleep and the teacher will bring us over

She’ll take us back, too.”I didn’t quite believe that her mothe

would actually allow her to go out t

play until 3:00 a.m., but her storntrigued me nevertheless. I went to th

pool at 7:00 p.m. the following evenin

and swam and loitered until 12:30 a.m

t was a beautiful night with a nearly ful



moon. The little girl never showed u

and neither did her friends. I slept for

ime in one of the lounge chairs, and ha

a very unusual dream. I dreamt that somall chalk white man walked over fro

he nearby town, and sat on the roof o

he equipment building watching me foa time. After my dream ended, I wok

up, closed the pool, and headed back t

my barracks.

The next Sunday, a new priescelebrated the Mass. He began b

nforming us that the elderly priest ha

died in a car accident the previouSunday, while commuting his territory

He led us in a prayer for the repose o

he soul of the deceased priest.



Tumbleweeds

. . . But as I told you,you have seen me

and still you do not believe.

. . . John 6:36

That summer in the ’60’s, passed

quickly at Mojave Wells. The days were

captivatingly beautiful, and innocent. was the range weather observer. M

orders instructed me to spend my dut

hours out on the ranges, in my rangweather shacks, day or night, rain o

shine. The duty had been pleasant. Th

summer weather had been desert ho



with the usual gentle winds. I returned t

base at Mojave Wells only for meals o

when my duty hours were finished fo

he day. It was lonely duty, but thosewere my orders. Sometimes I wondere

why no weather observer before me ha

ever fully obeyed those same ordersSometimes I wondered what it wa

about the ranges that they had all foun

so terrifying. Sometimes I wondere

why the weather observer whom I harelieved, had quietly deserted, rathe

han obey orders. In the end, it all mean

nothing to me. Orders were orders.I purchased a paint by number set fro

he small Mojave Wells BX and busied

myself painting. Soon two paintings o

fall mountain scenes adorned the wall



of my weather shack. I’d done my bes

on them. Although I doubt that Van Gogh

would have agreed with me, I felt the

were quite beautiful. Displaying thefor my friends to see, meant a great dea

o me. I doubt that Rembrandt was eve

prouder than I was as I carefullpositioned them on hooks that I’d naile

nto the walls of my weather shack. Th

paintings had been done on wood. The

were quite sturdy and hung securely ihe places where I positioned them.

never actually saw either of them mov

when the summer winds whisperehrough my weather shack. Yet, some

mornings when I opened my shack, th

wo paintings would be hangin



somewhat differently than when I ha

closed the shack the day before. On

morning they had even been switche

from one nail to the other.The first few times it happened

hought it was just my mind playin

ricks on me. Then for a few times, supposed it was just the wind that ha

moved them. On this morning, however

he wind had been calm for the entir

day and evening before. So it was witmixed emotions that I carefully re

positioned the paintings after opening u

at 3:45 a.m., in preparation for the 4:3a.m. run.

The two paintings had moved slightl

during the night. I wasn’t sure if I shoul

blame the desert winds and just ignor



he incident, or if I should feel prid

because someone cared enough to stud

my art work, or if I should feel fea

because the only reasonable explanatiowas that something unknown had entere

my locked weather shack the nigh

before just to study me and my paintingsThat morning I spent more than a few

minutes looking out into the darkness

alone with my thoughts and my emotion

wondering what it was that had serrified the weather observers befor

me. I decided that if something unknow

was lurking out there, watching my evermove from the pre-dawn darkness,

must appreciate beauty as I did. Wh

else would it care about my tw



paintings? I said a quick prayer. I asked

God to continue to watch over an

protect me from everything that might b

hiding out there in the darkness. Then decided I would live a longer, happie

ife if I just shrugged off the incident an

chalked it up to the desert winds. What didn’t know about, I decided, wasn

going to hurt me.

Other things at Mojave Wells had

captured my pride and emotions, tooOne of them was a rock. It was a smal

granite rock colored with unique shade

of gray. It fit easily into my right hand. Ihad several flat spots, and this made

quite useful. On windy days, I used it t

hold my clipboard and paper forms i

place as I was taking the balloo



readings. For this reason, I stored it o

he ground at the base of the metal pos

hat held my theodolite. I could get to

easily, and it was always there when needed it. I frequently left it lyin

outside, and seldom paid much attentio

o the exact details of where I’d left it. Iwas, after all, just a rock. These summe

days had been so beautiful and innocen

hat I had never felt any alarm whe

some mornings the rock seemed to havbeen moved when it was lying out on th

ground out of my sight.

I remember well this Friday morningThe ranges weren’t being used an

everything was unusually peaceful. Afte

re-positioning my two paintings, takin



he morning balloon run, driving in fo

breakfast, and making the long driv

back out to Range Three, I found mysel

sitting quietly in my weather shackreading another interesting history book

his time on the history of ancien

Greece. At the time, I was reading thchapter on the experiences of the ancien

Greek warrior, Xenophon, and th

10,000 Greek soldiers in his command

He was an ancient Greek warrior whhad saved the lives of the 10,000 me

under his command because he could se

danger even in the wind.I had both the front and side door

open, and my weather shack was fille

with cool, gentle breezes. It was stil

another two hours, or so, before I wa



scheduled to take the noon balloon run

Without warning, my phone bega

ringing intensely. The ringing surprised

me because it was unusually loud anstrong. Usually the connections to m

phone weren’t that good. The timin

between the rings was also unusuallshort. After noticing these facts, I picked

up the receiver and answered, “Rang

Three weather shack. Charlie here.”

To my mild surprise, there wasn’anyone on the other end. After realizin

hat I was listening to an unusually fain

dial tone, I hung up the phone.A few minutes passed. Again my

phone rang. This time, though, the ring

were not as loud and were space



further apart so that the ringing phon

sounded almost the way it usually did

Again, after noting these facts,

answered the phone, “Range Threweather station. Charlie speaking.”

Once again, no one was on the othe

end. After listening for a minute or so tohe faint sound of the dial tone, I decide

o just hang up the phone and go on wit

my history book.

A few more minutes passed. Stilagain my phone rang. This time, though

he rings were at the perfect level o

oudness and were spaced perfectlapart, so that the ringing phone sounde

exactly the way it usually did. Again

after noting these facts, I answered th

phone, “Range three weather station



Charlie speaking.”

Once again, no one was on the othe

end. After listening for a minute or so to

he faint sound of the dial tone, oncagain I decided to just hang up the phon

and go on with my history book.

As I was reading, a curious thoughforced its way into my consciousness.

wondered if someone was just testin

heir electronic equipment by ringing m

phone until they had their instruments secorrectly. But then, I thought, if that wer

he case, how would they know whe

heir instruments were set correctly?I wondered for a few minutes. Then

for some unknown reason, my min

stumbled across a curious question. I n



onger felt alone, and I didn’t fee

comfortable reading anymore. Th

constant gentle wind made me fee

uneasy. I began to feel much likXenophon. I got up from my chair an

stepped out my side door for a quic

ook around.Outside, it was a beautiful summe

morning and everything seemed perfectl

normal. I returned inside and continue

reading my history book. After readinon for a few more minutes, though,

found myself still wondering why m

phone had rung. Was it really a wrongnumber, I wondered, or had someon

ntentionally meant to disturb me fro

my reading? After all, the difference

between the first series of rings, th



second, and then the third didn’t see

accidental. I put my book down an

decided to go outside for a better loo

around.Outside, in the desert sunshine

everything still appeared to be normal.

found myself singing some happy songand taking a short walk around the Rang

Three buildings. Now and then I woul

happily shout, “Hello,” out over th

apparently empty desert. Then I’d listecarefully to see if any echoes came bac

from the distant mountains. To m

surprise, on at least two tries, I wacertain that I’d heard echoes, eve

hough the shape and distance of th

mountains and the gentle winds mad



hat physically impossible.

The winds that filled the blue dome o

he sky supported several large whit

fleecy clouds. Their shadows danceplayfully over the mountains and ove

he sagebrush covered valleys. Ever

now and then, the radio would play onof my favorite songs, and the win

would blow some dry sagebrush an

umbleweeds between the buildings.

reached out and caught a couple of theas they bounced gently past me. Then

hrew them high into the air so that th

wind could blow them on through thopen spaces in the buildings and on ou

nto the desert beyond. I decided that

was playing “catch the wind.” After

had caught several tumbleweeds an



hrown them up over my head to see i

hey would miss the buildings as the

drifted on out into the desert, somethin

curious happened. I noticed that all ohe tumbleweeds that were comin

oward me, were coming from the sam

section of the desert down to thsoutheast. They were drifting with th

wind, drifting towards me from th

southeast, from the direction of Rang

Two. At first this seemed perfectlyreasonable. The gentle wind was comin

from that direction, and the tumbleweed

were obviously drifting with the windAfter watching them for only a few

minutes, however, I become mildl

alarmed. I felt as though I were seeing



certain danger, hidden in wind. Th

umbleweeds were coming from th

place where the desert change

elevation. The tumbleweeds would firsappear by drifting up over the rise, a

hough some unseen person was tossin

hem up into the air, in almost playfufashion as I had been. Then, as the win

blew them, they would gently roll o

bounce towards me, sometimes making i

o me, sometimes missing me by widmarks.

I began to worry that my mind migh

be playing tricks on me. It began to seeas though all of the tumbleweeds whic

he wind was blowing around wer

coming from the same little stretch o

desert, the stretch which lay perfectl



downwind of me. I counted for a few

minutes and mentally computed th

statistics that seemed to confirm m

suspicions. When I tried to re-computhe numbers, it suddenly seemed lik

umbleweeds were appearin

everywhere out along the desert risexcept from the place where they ha

appeared before. I became convince

hat a large group of people, or children

were hiding down behind that rise in thdesert and playing catch with me b

ntentionally releasing tumbleweeds int

he wind for me to catch.I studied the drifting tumbleweed

some more. They were coming from to

many places for it to be just one perso



playing with me. I spent a few minute

counting tumbleweeds. I decided that i

he tumbleweeds were being released b

a group of children, the rise in the deserwould have to be hiding at least twelv

or thirteen of them. Then, as I watche

and studied some more, an even morcurious thing happened. Even though th

wind continued to blow gently, the sam

as it had before, the tumbleweed

suddenly and completely stoppecoming.

I was stunned. The silence an

emptiness that engulfed me that morningeft a permanent imprint on m

consciousness.

As I stood there, I wondered if

should get in my truck and drive out t



hat rise in the desert. It would let m

actually see what was hiding below it

Then, as I thought about it for a few

minutes, I found myself becoming afraio do so. I began to feel that it would b

dangerous for me to know very muc

about the wind and the way it blew frodown there. I found myself becomin

errified of the distant ridge and of th

winds. My fears were becoming too rea

and were being carried to me on thwinds.

I decided that I would be safe enoug

f I stayed where I was as long as didn’t make the mistake of going dow

o see close up what lay beyond tha

distant rise in the desert.



I tried to get an echo from the distan

mountains, as I was certain I had don

before, but no matter how many times

shouted, “Hello,” out to the mountainsabsolutely nothing came back. I

frustration with the emptiness of th

ranges and the gentle desert winds, paced back and forth several times

wondering what to make of it all. Havin

nothing else to do, I decided to tr

hrowing rocks out into the empty, sunlistillness. Choosing five smooth pebble

from the desert floor, I first tried

hrowing them, one by one, out into thdesert. At first nothing happened. Then

on the fifth rock, I scared some birds tha

were resting out under a distant sag



plant. Feeling as though I’d sinned,

decided, instead, to just throw the rock

at the large wooden billboards that stoo

on the northeast corner of the buildinarea. Pebble after pebble, rock afte

rock, I bounced off the billboards. Soo

was convinced that I could easily hany board on any of the billboards, eve

hose highest up and furthest away. Then

without thinking, I picked up my favorit

rock. Getting a good grip on it, I threw as hard as I could, up against the uppe

right corner of the most distan

billboard. It hit the wooden support posstraight on, and bounced out into th

distant sagebrush. Realizing suddenl

hat my favorite rock would now be los

out in the desert, I began reproachin



myself. I spent the next half hou

searching through the sagebrush and th

desert sand looking for my favorite rock

t didn’t surprise me. The rock wasimply lost forever, hidden out in th

desert beyond recovery.

Upset with myself and still not surwhat to make of the situation,

reluctantly decided to return to m

history book.

The time passed slowly until nooapproached. Putting my book aside in th

middle of a paragraph, I prepared m

weather balloon, and began taking thnoon run on schedule. Naturally,

wished to hurry through the run, so

could close my shack and make it int



base in time to eat the noon meal.

quickly released my weather balloo

and began taking the timed readings, a

usual. The wind tore at my paper reporform, and I was soon very annoyed wit

myself for having thrown away m

favorite rock. It had been so useful. found myself wishing that some friendl

person would find it and return it to me

Then I had to laugh at myself. Since

had never told anyone about my favoritrock, how would anyone know it wa

my’ rock, even if they were ever to find

t out in the desert? Then my minstumbled across the simple fact tha

although it was just a perfectly ordinar

rock, unique only to me, someone wh

had seen me with the rock might know



was mine if they ever found it. Only the

would know that I would be happy i

hey were ever to return it to me. As

stood there cursing the wind anaughing at myself, I decided that

would take a person far more intelligen

han I just to identify which rock habeen mine in the first place, let alon

find it out in the desert and return it t

me.

As I was resting my eyes betweereadings, wishing I still had my favorit

rock, I returned to studying the sagebrus

down to the southeast, down where thdesert changed elevation. To m

surprise, one tumbleweed bounce

playfully up over the rise and drifted i



he wind, bouncing up and down ove

he desert toward me. It happened tha

he wind blew the tumbleweed in

predictable fashion until the tumbleweebounced straight up to me. As my mind

struggled with this, I pulled th

umbleweed off my boots and legs, anossed it aside. In the short time it too

for the wind to blow it beyond my reach

another second tumbleweed bounce

playfully up and over the rise, obviouslcoming from the same place. I too

another reading as this one, too, wa

blown directly up to me, scraping uagainst my boots and fatigues. I tosse

his one, too, aside. Then, while m

mind still struggled to make sense o

hese events, still a third tumblewee



bounced playfully up and over th

distant rise. Like the first two, the win

gently blew and bounced this on

directly towards me. I took my lasballoon reading, and as the tumblewee

gently bounced towards me, I closed up

my theodolite. This tumbleweed, toowas blown directly up to me. I picked up

my clipboard, pencils, and data sheets

and tossed this one too, aside. Then,

stood there for a minute or so, waitinfor another tumbleweed, but no mor

appeared.

With my hungry stomach reminding mof the time, I returned to my shack

completed my calculations, and phone

hem in to Desert Center. I checked th



ime. I had about ten minutes to spare, s

decided I would quickly finish readin

he paragraph in my history book. Then

would head to the chow hall. I had jussat down at my desk and opened m

book when my phone rang. I let it ring

few times before answering it. The rinwas the very same tone, loudness, an

iming as it normally was. I was n

onger fooled. I picked up the phone an

answered, “Range Three weathestation, Charlie speaking.” As I looked

out through my front and side doors,

could see a single tumbleweed bouncplayfully up over that distant rise in th

desert. The wind blew it, gentl

bouncing it over the desert, until i

directly struck the metal pole tha



supported my now locked theodolite

Through the side door I could se

another tumbleweed bouncing up ove

hat distant desert rise, coming from thsame place as the first one had. In th

phone, all I could hear was the fain

sound of the dial tone, much fainter thanormal. Understanding at last what wa

happening, I spoke pleasantly into th

phone. I said truthfully, “I don’t know

who you are, but I’m sorry. I can’t plawith you right now. I am very hungry.

have to drive in to the chow hall and ea

he noon meal. But if you wish to plawith the tumbleweeds out here while I’

gone, you may. I won’t be back unti

almost two o’clock. This place will b



deserted for the next hour and a half.

Then I paused and listened for a few

seconds. Looking out the side door,

could see first one, then two, then threeand four, then more, tumbleweed

bounce playfully up over the distant ris

n the desert. All of them werapparently aimed for the metal post tha

held my theodolite.

Chuckling to myself, I hung up th

phone, closed and locked the doors tmy weather shack. I walked directly t

my truck and headed in to base. “It mus

be a bunch of kids,” I laughed to mysel“judging by the way they’ve organize

his game of ‘catch the wind’.”

I took my time eating the noon mea

Then I took a quick nap in the barracks.



felt I could use the rest. I finally arrive

back at my Range Three weather shac

at 1:50p.m. I needed to take just on

more balloon measurement for the dayThe tumbleweeds weren’t blowin

around anymore even though the wind

hadn’t changed. I decided it must havbeen a large group of children and tha

hey must have had lots of fun. Before

could unlock my theodolite, I first had t

clear more than 13 tumbleweeds, alstuck together, away from the metal pole

Like children everywhere, I guess, the

were proud of their aim. Although I hadno idea what kind of children would b

hiding 22 miles out in the desert on

nice day like today, I could hardly hav



been angry with them. Under the firs

umbleweed, lying in the position wher

usually stored it, they had placed m

favorite rock, the one I had previouslost by foolishly throwing it out into th

desert. It took months for me to get ove

my amazement.Unlocking and entering my weathe

shack that beautiful afternoon, I receive

another jolt. One of my two painting

was missing from the inside wall of mweather shack. I was so shocked that

could hardly comprehend what ha

happened. The one that was missing wamy least favorite of the two. Severa

months would pass before I woul

again, on one cold winter morning, ope

my weather shack and again see th



missing painting, looking just as it had

without a mark on it, hanging there onc

again on the same hook that had held

on that summer day so many monthbefore. I hardly needed more proof tha

he children whom I had played with o

hat beautiful summer day were reaThey obviously appreciated a beautifu

picture when they saw one.

As I stood there looking out over th

desert on that beautiful summer day, hought I glimpsed something playing i

he heat waves off to the east. The hea

waves came up off the desert like thosoff a furnace. The heat waves blende

he images of the sagebrush, th

sunshine, and the desert sands in with th



mages of distant children with chal

white skin, wide blue eyes, and blond

hair. The images all blended together i

he heat waves and in the hot brighsunlight until all I could see were chal

white patches that seemed to float an

play out there in the heat. There weralmost 20 such images drifting out alon

he base of the eastern mountains. One o

he images seemed to be proudl

carrying my painting. Yes, likeXenophon, I felt that I had gotte

glimpses of things out there in the wind.



Millennial Hospitality

Those living far away fear your wonders;

where morning dawns and evening

fades…

Psalm 65:8

At night, under a midsummer moon

he desert valley stretching north froMojave Wells was a valley of restfu

stunning beauty. In the evening, coo

musical breezes swept gently along morhan one hundred miles of sagebrus

meadows. Long, thin, and cathedral, th

north-south valley connected smoothly a



ts southern end with another “L” shape

valley, which, in turn arced gentl

owards the southeast, flowing into

broad “Y” shaped valley, ending at lasn the green meadows of the Pal

Meadows golf courses. Meadows t

meadows, a single gentle breeze couldrift over more than 250 miles of desert

and under more than 250 miles o

starlight. I had given these beautifu

meadows a name. I named them, “ThMeadows of Arcturus”

Looking at my clock as I lay quietly i

my bunk, I could see it was going o2:20 a.m. Sleeping in the barracks a

Mojave Wells had taught me to be very

quiet as I got up. It also taught me t

enjoy shaving, brushing my teeth, an



getting dressed in near total darkness.

shared the barracks with 6 other airmen

My duty hours started at 4:00 a.m., bu

heirs didn’t start until 8:00 a.m. Towake any one of them by accident woul

surely get my day started off on th

wrong foot. Thus, almost withouhinking, I quietly arose from my bun

and put on my uniform. Then, havin

showered the night before, I shaved

brushed my teeth, collected mflashlight, and quietly slipped out th

barracks by the back door.

Outside, I found a quiet, beautifullawakening experience. The deser

seemed to shimmer under a full moo

and countless stars. The moon was s



bright there wasn’t any reason for me t

use my flashlight. Silent and happy i

his cathedral-like world, walking in th

shadows under the trees, marching in thdarkness next to the barracks, o

following along in the gray places alon

he fences, I quickly traveled the foushort blocks to the motor pool, reachin

at last, my USAF pickup truck.

I was quite proud of myself, really.

had never once turned on any light, and had been so quiet through it all, that ha

anyone inside or outside the barrack

been awake and watching, no one coulever have known that I was afoot. But

hen really, who would care?

Up above me, stretched the beautifu

quiet, starlit sky. My gaze fell naturall



upon the constellation Bootes and it

brightest star named Arcturus, Th

Watcher by the ancient Greeks. Fourt

brightest star in the nighttime sky, it waso beautiful and, since it is only 36 ligh

ears from earth, so near. On thi

evening, I found its light to be peacefusilent, and relaxing. I remembere

reading, somewhere, that the men o

ancient Greece, back before the yea

1000 B.C., believed that tall white godhad come to earth from the star Arcturus

and on warm summer nights when th

men of Greece were out camping, thesall white gods would come and watc

hem from a short distance.

I had gotten up an hour early becaus



oday was a special day. Today, the

major, down at Desert Center AFB

would be deciding if I was ready fo

promotion to the next enlisted rank, thcoveted rank of airman first class

Today, I decided, I would really impres

my commanding officer. I intended tofile my weather report early. First,

would drive the 25 miles out into th

desert to range three, to my weathe

shack, as I did every weekday morningBut, today, when I released the helium

filled weather balloon and measured th

winds, as I did every weekday morningt would be special. Today, I would use

he special weather balloon that I ha

carefully hand picked the day before

nflate it with extra care, and track th



balloon for at least an extra 30 minutes

This would allow me to report the win

speed and direction for altitudes fa

higher than any Mojave Wells weatheobserver had ever done before me

Surely, I thought, the major would b

mpressed. He would promote me fosure.

I could hardly have been happier, thi

beautiful moonlit night, as I strod

owards my waiting weather truck. Jusesterday afternoon, the mechanics at th

motor pool had given it an oil change

ube job, and a general tune-up. Carryina small V8 engine that was in nea

perfect condition, it sat waiting to fee

my foot on its gas pedal. It didn’t mak



he slightest bit of difference to me at th

ime, but the truck, like me, was hidde

out of sight, and in the shadows. Facin

he open road, as it was, I started it upwithout so much as touching the brakes

and therefore without ever once lightin

he brake lights.As soon as the engine was running,

curious thought crossed my mind. Th

night was so beautiful and the moonligh

was so bright, was it really necessary turn on the headlights? The engine wa

very quiet and the truck had no radio

This meant that so far, I couldn’possibly have awakened anyone

Turning on the headlights might chang

all that. So, on this beautiful moonl

night, I decided to begin driving ou



owards the gunnery ranges with all o

my lights still off.

It was quite easy, really, driving

without headlights. I rolled down thwindow, thought beautiful thoughts, and

brought my speed up to 20 mph as

headed the truck down the narrow paveroad that headed out towards rang

hree.

The road was sunken a little, an

concealed by sagebrush on both sidesKeeping in the shadows on my side o

he road, it was a simple matter to se

where I was going. I had fallen in lovwith the beauty of the desert tha

evening. It seemed like I would destro

hat beauty if I were to turn on m



headlights. Since I didn’t need th

headlights, I decided to leave them of

for the entire drive. So it happened that

had anyone been watching, they woulhave had no way of knowing that I wa

coming. They couldn’t have known that

was coming from so far, so quiet, sounseen, and speeding up to 35 miles pe

hour, coming up on them so fast.

In the few weeks I had been at Mojav

Wells, I had learned the road out torange three by heart. As I drove north, u

he straight valley, I noticed how clea

he night air was. The mountains at thnorthern end of the valley, some 100

miles distant, stood out clearly in th

night sky. After traveling several miles

he turn off to range one slid by on m



right. The intersection with the range on

gravel road created a window in th

sagebrush wall on my right. Gazing ou

hrough that window, down the “Lshaped valley towards the southeast, m

eyes focused in on the gate, the contro

ower, the buildings, and the weatheshack for range one, located down i

another beautiful meadow of sagebrus

some 25 miles distant.

Up ahead on the right, another windowopened in the sagebrush wall. Through

could see the control tower, th

weather shack, and the buildings orange two. They were difficult to pic

out, located as they were, at the base o

he distant mountains, on the far slope o



he “L” shaped valley, some 30 mile

distant. They were always so beautifu

and so peaceful in the distance.

wondered why the weather observer had replaced, Sullivan, had alway

refused to go over there.

I let my eyes wander slowly bacdown along the distant range two roa

following it as it rose up the far slope o

hat distant valley. I located the place ou

n that distant sagebrush meadow wherhe range two road branched off from th

range one road, out where Sullivan ha

stopped the truck suddenly, and turnedaround, trembling in fear. It was a plac

had frequently wondered about. I

seemed so peaceful and deserted. Yet

when I looked down there on thi



peaceful evening, I noticed there, almos

hidden in the sagebrush in the distance

n the empty vastness of the desert, jus

barely visible, were two small, sofwhite fluorescent lights.

I ignored the lights and drove o

hrough the aisles of this beautiful desercathedral. The lights were hidden fro

my view as soon as I passed beyond th

window area. They were far too dim t

be actual fluorescent lights, and thewere very small. At first, I thought they

might be large white plastic bag

reflecting the moonlight. Then I thoughhey might be several white fluorescen

ubes piled together, or maybe som

white paint or pieces of paper. Since



was a weather observer, I had studied

he Mojave Wells desert terrain in grea

detail. I estimated the distance down th

valley to the lights to be about 22 milesWho would drive so far from base

wondered, just to throw away ligh

bulbs?The sagebrush continued on my righ

for the next several miles. Then I passe

hrough the gate to range three. I ha

ntentionally left it open the day beforeso I just drove on. Range three wa

fenced. A deep antitank ditch ran along

he outside of the fence. The ditch, thfence, the desert, and the federa

government had all combined t

guarantee that, except for me, thi

beautiful valley was totally an



completely empty of people.

Up ahead, the road got higher, and th

sagebrush wall on my right thinned

Curious, now, I allowed my gaze toreturn again to my right, down the valle

n the distance, back down towards th

branch in the range one road. Thviewing conditions were even bette

from this angle. Still, it took a while fo

he results to work their way into m

brain. It took a few minutes, but it finalldawned on me-the soft white fluorescen

ights in the distance, had moved! Now

hey were only 18 miles away. In just few minutes, they had moved at leas

four miles to the north of where they ha

been. They were now four miles north o



he branch in the range one road.

As I drove on, I didn’t know what t

hink. Perhaps, I thought, the white light

were sheets of thin plastic and werdrifting in the wind. Perhaps, I thought

hey had blown up from Palm Meadows

Then, as I drove on, I studied thsagebrush. It took only a glance to se

hat on this calm evening, there simpl

wasn’t any wind in which to drift.

Up ahead, the buildings of range threappeared in the distance. Arranged to

form a large open square, they had bee

built on a raised open stretch of deserhat commanded a good view of th

valley. Along with the usual contro

ower, the range lounge, a couple o

supply sheds, the generator shack, an



he weather shack, the buildings als

ncluded several large woode

billboards. All of the ranges had them

Some 40 feet high and angled slightlyhe billboards allowed the range crew t

signal the airplanes whenever they wer

working on the targets and the electricagenerators were not running.

The first building located along th

ncoming paved road was the buildin

hat housed the two large diesel electrigenerators. Out of force of habit, I dow

shifted my pickup. The truck slowed

without need of the breaks, rolling evemore slowly, until my dark blue truc

without headlights, rolled to a stop in th

shadows of the generator building.



mmediately turned off the motor and se

he emergency break. Then I sat quietl

n the truck, enjoying the quiet desolat

beauty of the moonlit desert in front ome. I really hadn’t noticed, but since th

building was east of the road, and I wa

parked in its shadows, if anyone werwatching, there really wasn’t any wa

hey could have known that I was there.

As I sat there, enjoying the beauty o

he desert for a few more minutes, wondered about starting the generators

The moonlight was so bright I reall

didn’t need the generators. My weatheshack had two north-south doors and a

extra large door on the east. I didn

need the light bulb turned on. I had m

flashlight, if I needed extra light.



In any event, I didn’t need to start th

diesel generators right now, I decided.

could continue to enjoy the beauty of thi

desert evening, the diesel motors werso noisy. I could start them later if

needed to.

Quietly, I got out of my truck, and jusas quietly I closed the truck door. I liked

my truck, and I was always very carefu

with it, so when I closed my truck door

was very quiet. I walked quietly anslowly up to the corner of the generato

shed. Then I turned right and followe

along next to the side the storagbuildings, staying generally in th

shadows, until I arrived at the buildin

on the end, my weather shack. Acros



he square several hundred feet distant

was the control tower and the rang

hree lounge. On the right stood th

billboards, some garbage cans, and ihe center of it all was the altar of m

cathedral, a steel post on which wa

bolted the telescope that I used to tracmy weather balloons. This telescope

his theodolite, had a clear view of th

mountains, the desert, and the sky, i

every direction. With its metal cover iplace, from a distance, it looked muc

he same as when the cover was off, an

was taking balloon readings using it.With a practiced hand, leaving m

flashlight off, I unlocked the front doo

of my weather shack and quietly slippe

nside, closing the door behind me. Onc



nside, I slowly opened the doublewid

side door on the east. This allowe

enough moonlight into my shack so tha

nflating the helium weather balloon waa simple matter. Then, tucking m

clipboard and reporting form under m

arm, I backed outside with my weatheballoon, carried it around to the othe

side of the weather shack to the releas

point, and released it into the night sky

The balloon carried a smalexpendable, battery powered light that

had attached to it. To protect my nigh

vision, I kept the light completelconcealed before I launched the balloon

Once launched, this light blended in wit

he stars so perfectly that on som



mornings I lost the balloon in among th

star fields. So, as I unlocked th

heodolite more than one hour early, and

began tracking the balloon, it happenehat I still hadn’t done anything tha

would have betrayed my presence to

person watching from a short distance.The balloon readings had to be take

precisely one minute apart. To do this,

had to periodically read my watch. Fo

his I used my flashlight in a speciamanner. I now had my night vision, so

needed only a tiny quantity of light fro

my flashlight. To get this light, I wouldpress the lens of my flashlight up agains

my left arm. A tiny quantity of ligh

would escape through the red plasti

ens holder. This was just enough to



allow me to read my watch. At first,

wasn’t thinking much about it, but

happened that for the first severa

minutes, as I was reading my watch, mbody was concealing this tiny bit of ligh

from the view of anyone north, eas

south, or west of my theodolite. It didnseem important at the time.

Looking through the theodolite wa

iring on my eyes. In between readings

would take my eyes away from theyepiece, and gaze around at the valley

loved to watch the stars and dream o

home. It was so relaxing. I didn’t movaround at all. Rather, I was standing

eaning peacefully up against the meta

stand that held the theodolite. I suppose



blended in with the theodolite itself

Something down to the southeast caugh

my gaze. Ranges one and two wer

down towards the southeast. A rise inhe elevation of the desert partl

obstructed my view of the beautifu

sagebrush covered meadows that labetween me, and the two distant ranges.

At first, I wasn’t sure just what I ha

seen. It looked like the sagebrush dotte

horizon in the distance had moved. Afirst, I didn’t pay much attention an

went back to taking my readings. Then

after a couple of minutes, I had somfree time and my gaze returned to th

southeast desert horizon. Way down

here, probably seven miles distant, wa

a large soft fluorescent white patch o



something, drifting slowly and silentl

owards me. When I looked at it throug

he theodolite, at 75 powe

magnification, it appeared to have a talfront part and a shorter part behind it. It

shape was very filmy and indistinct

even more than this great distance woulmply, but sometimes it seemed to hav

he shape of a large horse with a tai

floating gently in the wind.

It took a while for the magnitude ohis observation to register. The weathe

balloon that I had released was stil

perfectly above me. There simply wasnany wind.

Memories of Dwight’s stories started

o filter into my mind. I remembere



how serious he had been when he swor

o me that he’d seen a large, white

fluorescent horse with extra long

radioactive hair roaming about on rangfour, north of where I was standing.

remembered how he swore that the ligh

ooked like the soft light from thradioactive dial of his watch, whic

glowed in the dark. I remembered how

he swore that he’d seen it drifting, eve

hough there was no wind. I continued twatch the distant white patch as it close

he distance between where it drifte

and where I waited. It was driftinstraight towards me. Now it was si

miles away, closing to five and half

Finally, only five miles of sagebrus

separated it from me.



was noticeably shorter. I made it out to

be maybe four and a half, or five fee

all. The distance continued closing.

There was a little used gravel roahat connected range three with range

one and two. The road meandered dow

across the desert to the southeast, likanother aisle in the cathedral, until

connected up with the range two road

Suddenly, I realized that the two sof

white fluorescent patches werendrifting over the sagebrush. Th

sagebrush in most places was very thick

The sagebrush stood more than four feeall, and in effect, formed a wall alon

both sides of the old gravel road. Th

white patches were drifting along thi

old gravel road. Therefore, they wer



drifting in a lane in between th

sagebrush plants.

My mind suddenly realized that thi

old road formed a lane through thsagebrush that continued unbroken, righ

up to the open square of buildings wher

stood. I realized that these two whitfluorescent patches would soon b

drifting right up to me, close enough fo

me to reach out and touch them. No

knowing what they were, I began to feea little nervous.

I took another balloon reading. Th

distance to the white patches kepclosing. I decided to rotate the theodolit

and focus it in on the white patches, now

ess than a mile distant. Through th



heodolite, using a magnification of 75,

could see the tall one in front. Tall and

hin and very indistinct, it appeared t

have a large round head, two armsshoulders, a body, two legs, and feet. I

seemed to be standing and balancin

tself on some type of platform thafloated 18 inches above the gravel road

On its otherwise featureless face coul

be seen two large wide eye slits. I

appeared to be wearing a suit of somkind with a large white fluorescen

helmet. The suit it wore gave off the soft

white, fluorescent light, and its bodblotted out the stars behind it. The ligh

t gave off was so soft and dim, that

lluminated the gravel road and th

sagebrush for only a few feet next to th



road. The white patch behind it looke

he same way, only smaller.

There was a rise out there where th

desert changed elevation. The driftinpatches continued towards me, turnin

away momentarily, now, to float up the

road through the gate into the skip bombarea that adjoined the building area, the

urning back towards me as the

continued their slow, silent, relentles

approach. I didn’t know what to do owhat to make of it.

I needed some kind of proof that wha

was seeing was real. After thinkinabout things for a minute, I decided t

est my eyesight. I focused my theodolit

on a plant next to the road in front of th



relentlessly advancing white fluorescen

patches. I chose a place that was still i

deep darkness, and I was absolutel

certain that it was a place I had neveooked with my theodolite, or seen i

person. I turned my weather sheet ove

o the clean backside. I quickly recordehe theodolite readings of this dark plac

under the plants, so that I could locate

again in the daytime. I reasoned that i

my mind were playing tricks on me, wouldn’t be able to produce an accurat

picture of what was in this dark place

After all, I reasoned that I couldnaccurately draw a picture of a real lif

scene that I had never actually seen.

Without moving my theodolite,

waited for the white fluorescen



creatures to reach that place in th

gravel road. As they approached it, th

ight given off from their suit

lluminated the sagebrush in a way thamoonlight and sunlight never could. A

hey passed by that place in the road,

quickly sketched the view through mheodolite on the back of my weathe

form. It was a sketch of a gnarle

sagebrush plant, the plants around it, th

dirt and rocks underneath it, and thracks in the dirt road out in front of it

As the white fluorescent creature

passed by, I used my theodolite tomeasure that height above the grave

road. No portion of their feet o

equipment touched the ground, or raise



any dust as they passed. M

computations showed that exactly

nches separated the bottom of thei

equipment and the top of the graverocks on the road, and also showed tha

he top of the tallest creature was exactl

6 feet 9 inches above the ground, and thop of the second creature came exactl

at the shoulder of the tallest creature,

feet 7 inches above the ground.

As I stood there by my theodolitepondering this startling situation that wa

rapidly enveloping me, I realized that

needed to check my watch to see if was time for another balloon reading. A

stood there, I was standing upright

eaning against the steel theodolite stand

facing the oncoming white patches.



I had become afraid to turn my back i

hat direction, and I didn’t know what t

do next. My left arm, with my watch o

t, was out stretched. I wanted a littlight so I could see the dial on my watc

as the creatures now closed to less tha

an eighth of a mile. As usual, I hadurned my watch around so that the dia

ay against the inside of my left wrist. A

usual, I pressed the lens of my flashligh

up against the inside of my lower lefarm, as the creatures now closed to les

han 200 yards. I turned my flashlight o

momentarily, and turned away to readmy watch. Then I turned my flashligh

off. The light had been on for no mor

han one or two seconds. Only a tin



fraction of light from the flashlight ha

escaped. Only the tinniest fraction of tha

iny fraction could have traveled an

distance, out over the sagebrush, dowowards the southeast. Yet, when

returned to looking at the soft whit

fluorescent patches that had spent thast 90 minutes drifting relentlessl

owards me, my mind went numb wit

shock. The two white patches were n

onger drifting towards me. In a suddenerky, and uncoordinated fashion, th

wo white fluorescent patches retreate

swiftly, a mile back down the graveroad to the place where the deser

changed elevation. There, by bendin

down, they concealed themselves fro

my view.



I didn’t have the faintest idea what t

make of it all. The two white patche

were now out of sight, apparently hidin

n the distance, down in the sagebrushSince I had my pickup truck, I toyed wit

he idea of driving down there to se

hese things close up. I still supposehese patches were large pieces o

plastic, reflecting the moonlight. Suc

pieces of plastic would be dangerous t

he low flying planes which use thgunnery ranges, so I supposed that

would drive over there, grab hold of th

white patches, and throw them into thback of my pickup truck. Then I woul

bring them up to the two waiting garbag

cans that sat over by the billboards



There, I supposed, I would tear the

nto pieces, and stuff them into th

garbage cans. After thinking thes

houghts, my mind seemed to becomfilled with a terrible fear of the garbag

cans. Yet, it was an unusually simple

matter for me to wipe this fear from mmind.

Using my theodolite and the 75 powe

ens, I focused in on the patch o

sagebrush where I had last seen the talwhite patch disappear. Occasionally,

could see the top of its head, down t

ust below its eyes. The top of its heawould appear momentarily above th

sagebrush, and it appeared to be lookin

at me. Then it would disappear

Sometimes it seemed as though a larg



white cat was looking at me over th

sagebrush. After both patches had don

his three or four times, they ducke

down permanently and remained totallhidden.

I was numb with shock. I had almos

given up believing my eyes. I returnehe theodolite to tracking the balloon. I

order to rest my eyes and to regai

confidence in my vision, I began to loo

around the rest of the valley. A pavedroad went from the control tower area

straight east past the billboards, dow

past the strafing targets, down to aammunition storage bunker located o

he side of the mountain to the east.

knew the bunker was one and a quarte



miles distant. As I gazed over there

more to rest my eyes than anything else

suddenly I saw a third patch of sof

white fluorescent light drifting slowlnortheast up out of the valley an

owards the ammunition bunker. As i

reached the higher ground, thfluorescent haze surrounding it suddenl

cleared, and revealed a tall thin ma

dressed in a chalk white aluminu

umpsuit, with a simple open helmet. Hcontinued walking, taking unusually hig

steps, bringing his knees almost up to hi

waist. He reached the ammunitiobunker in only a few steps. He stoppe

here, and waited behind it.

Then I let my gaze run north fro

here, up along the foothills of th



mountains to a low gently sloping ridg

overlooking a small deep, narrow valle

another mile or so away. To my tota

surprise, two more soft whitfluorescent patches were drifting sout

n hurried and intent fashion along th

mountains to join up with the third whithumanoid man, all in total silence.

I checked the rest of the valley.

became certain that my eyes wer

working perfectly. Nowhere else in thvalley were there any white patches t

be seen. My mind now started havin

houghts that I wasn’t sure were my ownThese thoughts were fragmented an

ndistinct. It reminded me of trying t

isten to a radio where the transmitte



was almost out of range. I bega

hinking, “The lights scare you. There i

nothing there. Stand calmly. Watch the

balloon.”It all seemed like good advice. Th

sudden appearance of the white patche

was making me very nervous, so, decided to not look around anymore fo

a while and to go back to tracking m

balloon. At least it would help me calm

down, I thought. I didn’t need any morreadings, but for a moment, I suddenl

seemed to be afraid of everything, a

suddenly as a light switch being flipped was afraid to stop tracking my balloon

was afraid to walk to the generato

shed. I was afraid to start the generator.

was afraid to start my truck and driv



nto town. I was afraid to walk to m

weather shack. For a moment, I wa

really in a quagmire of fear.

Then, after a few moments of fear, shrugged it off, and was stunned an

surprised at how easily the fea

disappeared. Real feelings of fearelease adrenaline into the blood stream

Real feelings of fear can’t possibly g

away that fast, I reasoned because

akes several minutes for the blood tclean itself of the adrenaline.

wondered how could I possibly feel tha

much fear so quickly, and, yet, not havany adrenaline in my blood stream?

I took some more readings and tried t

calm down. I thought about m



predicament. I decided that, since

didn’t need any more balloon data,

would stop tracking the balloon, an

concentrate on resolving the problem ohe white patches. I returned my gaze t

he southeast. There was nothing to b

seen. Off to the east, by the distanammunition bunker, stood the two whit

fluorescent patches that had drifte

down along the foothills. The third whit

patch couldn’t be seen. I stood by mheodolite for several minutes, gazin

down towards the southeast. Stil

nothing could be seen. I becamconvinced that those two white patche

were no longer there. “They must hav

moved,” I thought, “but where to?” The

obviously couldn’t move over or throug



he sagebrush. If they could, none of thi

would be happening. They wer

obviously trapped by the sagebrush.

Then I remembered that the old graveroad had another branch. This branc

formed another aisle through th

cathedral. It led from the area where thwhite patches where apparently hiding

straight over to the ditch along side th

paved road that I used when I drove ou

o this range every morning. Although thwo roads didn’t converge, the aisle

hey created in the cathedral did.

As I stood there, it dawned on me thamy weather shack and the buildings i

front of me blocked my view of thi

cross lane. I decided to move silentl



directly east to the cable fence tha

defined the perimeter of the skip bom

area. This would give me a view of thi

cross lane through the sagebrush. As did so, there came into my view, one o

he most stunning sights I have ever seen

There, down along the fence, were thwo soft white fluorescent patches. Bot

were standing as tall as possible

floating about 18 inches above th

desert, and drifting towards me perhapas fast as ten miles per hour. The top o

he tall one in front, may possibly hav

reached as much as eight feet off thdesert. As soon as I saw them, they bot

stooped over, and turned towards th

paved road, and again disappeared ou

of sight behind the buildings. The



moved so that my weather shack, th

storage sheds, and the generator shack

again blocked my view.

I hardly dared to think about what haust happened. My brain just didn’t wan

o accept what was so obviously true

Plastic bags and weather balloons donhink and, therefore, don’t hide. Onl

very intelligent creatures would hav

realized, as they were drifting toward

me, that the weather shack was blockinmy view. Only a creature with eyesigh

as good as a cat’s would have been abl

o react to the tiny amount of light whicmy flashlight had produced earlier whe

read my watch.

Then there was another simple fact



All this time, since the one time I ha

urned on my flashlight, now, some thirt

minutes ago, I had been standing there i

otal silence, with no lights whateveurned on. All that time, whatever it wa

had stayed passionately hidden. Ghost

don’t need to stay hidden. Whatever was, no matter how filmy or wispy

ooked, it had to be a flesh and bloo

animal, and it had to be terrified of me

Terrified intelligent animals ardangerous animals. Out here, alone as

was, the conclusion to me, was obvious

’d better be very careful, or I’d wind udead.

Therefore, tightly gripping m

flashlight, I decided to walk slowly an

carefully to my truck. I prayed that



would start. I decided that my bes

course of action was to drive in to tow

and get help. I began walking toward

he west. I stayed away from thbuildings. I didn’t want to be taken b

surprise. I started walking across th

open square.Reaching the other side of the square

intended to walk south towards th

shadows of the generator shack wher

my truck was parked. I stoppemmediately. There, huddling in the ditc

on the east side of the paved road, n

more than 100 feet from me were thwo white fluorescent patches. The

were obviously beings of grea

ntelligence, and obviously beings wit



an extremely advanced technology. A

ast I understood what had terrifie

Sullivan, the weather observer befor

me, Dwight, the major, and the others. also understood why the observer

before me would never come out into th

desert alone.At first, they didn’t see me. The

apparently were expecting me to be o

he other side of my weather shack.

could have run up to them and touchehem, but I realized that they must b

absolutely terrified of me. If I di

anything unexpected, such as start mruck or start a diesel generator or throw

a rock at them, they’d become even mor

errified. Given their obviously hig

evel of technology, if they becam



anymore terrified, I decided, my lif

might just end right here. I decided tha

he only safe thing I could do was t

stand silently right where I was and nomake any stray moves. It was

surprisingly easy thing to do. I wa

almost frozen stiff with fear.Their suits generated the soft, white

fluorescent light. The edges of this su

appeared to be made of aluminize

plastic, and had an indistincappearance. Since I had watched the

ravel by floating several inches abov

he ground, it was obvious that they, thsuit, and the rest of their technolog

were not of this world.

Now it all made perfect startlin



sense. Intelligent beings everywher

must have male, female, children, an

family groups, just as the sam

requirements when humans werevolving. In order for intelligent life t

survive, the men must be willing t

bravely and intelligently fight to protecheir children and their pregnant females

and the women must be willing to spen

ime with their children, teaching the

about the world. The women must bable to feel fear for their children and t

show them places to hide, so that th

weak helpless young children casurvive. No matter what planet the

came from, they must be more like eart

people than I could ever have imagined.

My brain was numb at the revelation.



must be looking at the wife and child o

one of the white patches waiting over b

he ammunition bunker. The tall and

short patches in front of me must be woman and daughter pair, unarmed

helpless, and terrified of me. I must hav

accidentally surprised them as they werout hiking and enjoying the beauty of thi

remote desert valley. Maybe it reminded

hem of their home planet. Being wome

and children, they must be unarmed and must now have them trapped away fro

heir other male family members. Th

fluorescent lights at the base of thmountains to the east must be the othe

members of their family.

My mind thought on. Based on th



movements of the other three whit

patches, all of the white creatures mus

be in constant radio communication wit

each other, including these two. Thogic was inescapable. The other mal

members of the family must now b

rushing over here to kill me, in order tprotect the woman and child. Thi

conclusion hammered its way into m

brain. I would need to plan my nex

move carefully or it might be my last.I decided to continue standing ver

still, not to make any threatening moves

remembered when I was a chilgrowing up on a farm in Wisconsin how

used to herd the cows around th

barnyard, staying back and never gettin

oo close. I decided to herd the tw



creatures back to safety as though I wer

herding cows. The technique require

patience. To begin with, I needed to giv

hem time to see me standing still. It tooa few minutes. I stood very still and jus

waited. After several minutes, the littl

girl rose up and looked around. Shobviously saw me standing where I wa

and immediately communicated this t

he woman.

Another minute or so passed. Thwoman slowly stood up, until she wa

otally straight up, and apparently waite

bravely to be attacked. She appeared tbe absolutely terrified of me. As sh

stood there, her head swayed back an

forth. Then the little girl stood up



slowly. She, also, stood bravel

awaiting for me to attack.

It was obvious to me that they wer

having some temporary trouble witheir suits and floating devices. It too

hem a couple of minutes of stumblin

and fumbling to rise up out of the ditch iwhich they were hiding. As they did so

a large amount of dirt on the sides of th

ditch was knocked into the ditch by th

operation of the suit. They also left somfootprints. The damage to the ditc

remained clearly visible for more than

ear. The depth of the footprints showedhat the woman weighed about 100 lbs

and the little girl about 60.

I could see they were totally helples

for the several minutes it took them t



climb out of the ditch. Yet, I also knew

hat it would be suicide for me to try t

help them, so I just stood patiently stil

and waited. After a short time, the twoof them, never taking their eyes off me

formed up on the paved road and bega

floating towards me. When they weress than 10 feet in front of me, the

came to an open flat area on the sout

side of the generator shack. With th

woman leading the way, they turned andfloated behind the buildings, temporaril

out of view.

I saw their problem immediately. Iorder to join up with their remainin

family members, they needed to trave

across the open square in front of m



weather shack. They needed to get to th

paved road that ran east towards th

ammunition bunker where thei

remaining family members were waitinfor them-and I blocked the way. I tried t

solve this problem by slowly walkin

south towards my truck and slowlfollowing them around the generato

shack. I had expected that they woul

ust keep floating towards thei

destination. I honestly felt the same wa used to feel when I herded cow

around a corner of the barn. As I cam

around the southern corner of thgenerator shack, I could see the

floating ahead of me, next to the corne

of my weather shack. They were trappe

at a dead end by my shack, th



sagebrush, and the fence to the ski

bomb area. I decided it was best to tur

around and go back and stand by th

heodolite. This way, I reasoned, thother male family members could se

me, and they could see that the woma

and child weren’t in any danger. I hopedhis would convince them that I didn

need to be killed just yet.

I walked back and stood by th

heodolite. I waited for a while. Nothinseemed to be happening. I could see tha

he woman and child were still hidin

behind my weather shack. I was out odeas as to what I should do next, so

decided to look around and see if I coul

ocate the other three family members



Off to the east, by the ammunitio

bunker, I could see two soft whit

fluorescent patches standing and waiting

They had floated down to the other enof the paved road that went over there

This was the same road that ran past th

billboards.I looked around for the third whit

patch. At first, I couldn’t find him.

ooked some more. Surely, they mus

care greatly about each other’s safety, reasoned. He must be coming over t

where I am, in order to help the woma

and the little girl.Then I saw him, the third soft whit

fluorescent patch, the one who almos

certainly matched the description o

Range Four Harry. He was a young adul



male standing approximately six fee

all. He had taken a tremendous risk t

rescue the woman and child. While

was distracted, he had floated the miland a quarter down the paved road fro

he bunker to the open square. Then

when he arrived at the first billboard, hhad held on to the crossbeams an

braces in order to balance himself, an

had floated up to the top, some forty fee

up. Hanging on to the sides and top ohe billboard, he was now in a positio

from which he could coach the woma

and child. I also noticed that his positiogave him a clear field of fire for an

weapon he might be carrying, in case h

felt it necessary to kill me.



I had no idea what to do next. I stoo

here in numbed shock, studying hi

carefully. After a few minutes, I though

maybe things would be easier for him i retreated still further away from th

wo white patches floating behind m

weather shack. I stood up and turned shat I was facing north, away from th

woman and child. I started walkin

slowly towards the control tower. As

was turning, the left temple of my braiwas momentarily facing directly toward

he helmet of the white fluorescent man

believed to be Range Four Harry. It waike turning on a radio station. My min

suddenly began filling with soft pleasan

houghts. Thoughts like, “Stand still, sta



still,” began slowly and quietl

appearing into my brain. I was thinkin

about walking at the time, so I realize

hat these couldn’t possibly be mhoughts. Startled, I turned around an

returned to standing by the theodolite.

As I stood there, I tried to comprehenwhat was going on. The man must b

wearing a radio transmitter and receive

n his helmet. The human brain is a ver

ow power electrical device tharansmits tiny weak pulses o

microwaves when a person thinks

These microwaves are transmittemainly from the temple part of the huma

brain. The man must be wearing

microwave receiver in his helmet. H

must be receiving the microwaves tha



are naturally transmitted by the nerv

cells of my brain. The electronics in hi

high tech suit must be able to decod

hese waves, thereby allowing him tread my thoughts. Now I understood wh

he hadn’t killed me just yet. He knew m

houghts and understood that I meant nharm to the woman and child. Now,

also understood, the electronics in th

helmets of his wife and daughter mus

not be tuned properly. Otherwise, thwoman and child would have spoken t

me.

It was a heavy dose of reality for mo accept in such a short time. I waite

here by the theodolite more in shoc

han anything else. Still, I understoo



exactly what it meant. The nerve ending

n the human brain receive microwave

as well as transmit them. The man’

electronics must work both ways. understood, at last, that if I turned th

emples of my brain towards the man’

helmet, full of electronics as it obviouslwas, that he and I could communicat

ust by thinking.

Standing straight up and turning th

eft temple of my brain towards him, hought slowly, calmly, and distinctly, “

will not harm the woman. I will not har

he little girl. I will not harm you.”Then I waited calmly and patiently

clearing my brain of all other thoughts.

Then it happened, after perhaps thirt

seconds, a thought appeared in my brain



t was calm, clear, and it appeared

slowly, at about half the rate that

normally think. There was no mistakin

t. It certainly came from the man. It said“I know. You have not been harmed.”

Elated, terrified, surprised, shocked

and struggling to overcome my fear, continued, thinking slowly and distinctly

“How can I help you?”

A long pause followed. Then

received the response, “Calm down. Mequipment will work better.”

I could see that he was right, bu

staying calm was a lot easier said thadone. After a few minutes, I realized tha

had no choice. If he couldn

communicate with me, he might stil



have to kill me in order to extricate th

woman and the girl from thi

predicament. Therefore, after nearl

heroic efforts, I calmed myself enough tcontinue.

“Where are you from?” I thought.

After a short pause, I received, “Thers no time to talk. We must help the

woman. Stand still by the metal stand.

must talk to the woman. The woman mus

come over to the wooden towers.”I stood still by the theodolite, with m

eft temple turned towards the man

waiting. Now that I was becomincalmer, it became apparent that th

man’s brain must contain electroni

nerves just as mine does. Although th

aliens must certainly be communicatin



between themselves using longer-rang

radios, the man’s electronics wer

retransmitting the messages between hi

and the woman as he was thinking themThis meant that I was able to listen in o

his thoughts, the same way he was abl

o listen in on mine. My brain nowbecame full of thoughts, as though I wer

istening in on a CB radio channel.

First, there was a thought that sounde

ike it came from a grown woman. “Thman was going to kill us,” it said i

panic. The man wanted to tear us bot

nto pieces. The man wanted to stuff unto those terrible garbage cans.”

“The man thought you were plasti

bags. The man will not hurt you. Th



man knows what we are. Come to wher

am,” came back the answer.

“We cannot come. The man will see

us. I did not want the man to see us. Yousaid never let the man see us. The man i

oo intelligent. The man will know wha

we are like,” responded the woman.“The man has already seen you. You

ife is in danger. Your equipment wil

stop soon. You must come across now,”

mplored the man.“We cannot,” was the answer. “You

must come to get us.”

There was a short pause. Then the maresponded, “I cannot. I would not b

able to communicate back to the Captain

The Captain does not allow it. Th

Captain says I have come as far as th



Captain permits.”

“Where is the man now?” asked th

woman.

“The man is standing by the metapost,” was the man’s answer. “Do no

worry. I can talk to the man. The ma

will not harm you.”“The man is too close,” responded th

woman. “Tell the man to stand on th

other side of the shed where the ma

cannot see us. Then we will cross thopen area.”

“If the man stands behind the shed,

will not be able to talk with the manThe shed will be in the way. I will ask

he man to stand by the side of the she

where I can see the man,” he replied.



“Tell the man to hide in the sagebrush

Then we can come across,” said th

woman.

“If the man hides in the sagebrush, cannot talk to him. We are safer if we

alk to the man,” he said.

Then a clear, distinct thought appearen my brain. “Stand by the edge of th

building and face me,” he said.

“Yes,” I responded.

Walking over to the edge of thegenerator shed, I stood quiet and stil

facing east. This meant that my lef

emple was still exposed to hielectronics. “I am standing here,”

hought.

“He is not standing still,” said th



woman.

“Don’t move your feet,” he said

“Stand quietly.”

Doing as requested, I calmly stoovery still, and waited. As I did so,

hought, “I am standing still.”

As I waited, the man repeatedly trieo coax the woman to cross the ope

area in front of me. She was hidin

behind the weather shack. She wa

errified at the prospect of my seeing hecross over to the billboards where h

was. Then, after more than ten minutes o

coaxing, the woman agreed to try. Therfollowed one of the great dramas I hav

ever witnessed. As I stood quietly, no

moving my feet or arms, the woman a

ast agreed to make the crossing. Sh



began by apparently turning he

equipment up to full power. This caused

her suit to shine noticeably brighter

While remaining on her floating deviceshe stooped down as far as possible

This apparently helped her balance th

device. Then, activating the equipmenshe floated high enough to clear th

cable fence and high enough to clear th

sagebrush. With the equipmen

apparently turned up to its maximupower, she began floating diagonall

upwards and towards the middle of th

billboard that the man was using tbalance himself. Obviously afraid o

osing her balance and terrified by m

gaze, she continued to guide her pat



upwards and forwards across the ope

space in front of me. She was shouting i

error sometimes, for him to help her. A

she neared the billboard, she raised heright arm slowly. He reached out and

grabbed her hand. Now, at last, he wa

able to help the woman to a safe placbehind the billboard. As she floated

with his help, around the east side of th

billboard, some 35 feet above the deser

here could be no doubt that she habeen entirely overcome with fear of me.

He kept reassuring her, “Calm down

You will feel better. The man cannoharm you now.” Then, behind th

billboard, she held on to the cross beam

o steady herself, and slowly floate

back down towards the ground, until sh



floated only 18 inches above th

pavement which was behind th

billboard. Through it all, I stood quie

still, and quite dumbfounded. Now he began coaxing the girl t

come across the open area. This wa

obviously a much easier task.“He is standing still,” he said to th

girl. “The man will not harm you. Th

man did not harm the woman. Come a

soon as you are ready.”“Is it all right if the man sees me?

asked the girl.

“Yes,” he said. “The man has alreadyseen you.”

“Can I make it?” asked the girl.

“Yes,” he said. “The Captain says i



ou fall, I can come to get you. Th

woman can maintain the communicatio

ink.”

“I am coming now,” said the girl. Now, the girl, like the woman befor

her, turned her suit up to full power

Stooped over like the woman before herWith her suit shining brightly, she

floated over the cable fence. Then

floating a few feet above the sagebrush

she began crossing the open area in fronof me. She was obviously less afraid o

me than the woman had been. Therefore

she stayed much lower down than thwoman had. Her thoughts, by way of th

man’s electronics, kept appearing in m

brain. She seemed to be reassurin

herself by telling him, “I know the ma



will not harm me. The man didn’t har

he woman. The man has no reason t

harm me.”

Reaching the west side of the row obillboards, she floated around behin

hem, and floated down the paved are

behind them until she was safely floatinnext to the woman.

I remained standing quietly, still tryin

o grasp the drama that had just unfolded

After several minutes of calmindown the woman and the girl, the ma

said to me, “You may move now. Thank

ou for standing still.”“Is there anything else I can do to hel

ou?” I asked.

“No,” he said. “You have been very



helpful. The woman needs to rest her

for a short time. Then we will go back t

he mountain. I must repair the equipmen

now.”“I will go to my building and comput

he winds which I have measured,”

said.“Yes,” he replied. “Thank you fo

understanding us. Thank you for you

hospitality.”

With that, I walked slowly to thheodolite stand, and picked up m

clipboard, my papers, and my win

measurements. Then I walked slowlover to my weather shack, opened th

door, and went inside. I left the sid

door open so that the light of the star

could enter, and I closed the front door



The man’s electronics apparently didn’

work when I was inside the building

Once inside I could no longer tell wha

he was thinking. Afraid to turn on mflashlight and still shaky from m

experience, I sat down quietly for

while and just rested.Every few minutes I would take

quick look out the side door to see how

hings were coming behind th

billboards. The man, apparently trustinme, had floated down from the top of th

billboard to where the woman and th

girl were. There, behind the billboardhe appeared to be adjusting the woman’

suit and her electronics. At the time, sh

had apparently turned her suit off an



appeared to have taken all or part of

off. I could see her surprisingly thi

form, chalky white skin, long blond

hair, and what appeared to be deep blueyes. At the time, she was actuall

standing on the pavement.

Later, the man appeared to be doinhe same for the little girl. Standing o

he pavement, out of her suit, she looke

ike a small, near perfect duplicate of th

woman. After another 30 minutes or sohad passed, the man had them suited up

and formed up like two school children

The three of them seemed so happy to bogether as they prepared to float ou

from behind the billboards. Realizin

hat they wanted to be alone, I went bac

o my chair and sat down for a few



minutes. After some time had passed,

could see the three of them in th

distance, floating happily down th

paved road. It felt as if they were almossinging as they headed towards the othe

wo white patches that waited for the

at the end of the pavement.When the three of them were just ove

a quarter mile distant, I decided that

would be all right if I went out an

started the diesel electric generator. As eft the weather shack, once again

could receive the man’s thoughts. Now

however, I could receive the thoughts ohe woman and the girl too. The woma

was saying, “The man saw us. The ma

surprised us. We were so lucky the man



understood us. The other men woul

have killed us.”

He was responding, “Yes. We were

very lucky. This man is much morntelligent than the other men. This ma

knew I was there before he saw me

Before I could communicate with thiman, he knew that I planned to kill him i

he touched you. I have never seen a ma

hat intelligent.”

“My equipment would nocommunicate with the man. I could no

put great fear in his mind like I did th

others,” said the woman.“He is too intelligent,” he said. “You

equipment was not adjusted for tha

much intelligence.”

“I did not see his lights. Why did h



drive out here with his lights off?” aske

he woman.

“He thinks the desert is beautiful,” h

said. “He enjoys seeing the light froour star. He is like us in that way.”

Then my thoughts cleared as I turne

he corner to the generator shackEntering the generator shack, I turned o

my flashlight and started the diese

generators.

When I came back out, in the distancat the end of the paved road I could se

he three of them. They were jus

reaching their two waiting friends. Mmind again, began filling wit

fragmented thoughts. It was obvious tha

he man’s electronics were almost out o



range. One of the white patches was th

Captain, and the other was the man’

brother, and also the girl’s uncle. As the

uncle greeted the girl, he was saying“Your trip around these beautifu

meadows was very exciting. Your fathe

and I feared for your safety. When yomet the man, were you afraid of th

man?”

“The man surprised us,” said the gir

“The man frightened us. The man is verugly. The woman was terrified of th

man.” Then, as if giggling, sh

continued, “But now we like the manThe man was kind to us.”

Unable to receive their thoughts an

onger, I entered my weather shack

closed the doors, and turned on th



ights. Sitting down, I took a few minute

o calm myself, trying to comprehen

what had happened. Then I quietl

decided that the best thing for me woulbe to return to my normal duties. I tune

my radio to some nice relaxing musi

and quietly completed my wincalculations.

When my calculations were finished,

phoned the Desert Center weathe

station. The lines were full of static, buafter several tries I finally got through. I

was Dwight who answered. “You’re

awfully late with the winds, Charlie,” hchided me. “You should have phoned

hem in more than an hour ago. Don

worry, though. I covered for you with th



Major. Is everything all right?”

“Yes,” I answered slowly, stil

struggling for words to describe wha

had happened. “Everything is fineDwight,” I said. “I’m late because thi

morning I finally saw Range Fou

Harry.”“You did, Charlie? You really did?”

exclaimed Dwight.

“Yes,” I answered. “I got a really

good look at him. I made friends withim. I was able to study him for at leas

an hour and a half. I’m quite certain tha

know what he is.”“What is he, Charlie? What is he?

asked Dwight, excitedly.

“If I told you on the phone, Dwight,”

said, “I’m afraid that you’d neve



believe me. I was shocked when

discovered it myself. But you can tell th

Major that it’s just as you said. On warm

summer evenings, Harry likes to comdown into the starlit meadows here a

Mojave Wells. Only, it’s not because

he’s a horse. He’s not a horse. He onlyooks like a horse when he’s far away

He has feelings and emotions, just lik

ou and I. He just has a special reaso

for hiking out here. On warm summeevenings, he likes to hike here, out in th

sagebrush meadows, when they ar

receiving the light from the stars.”“Why?” asked Dwight.

“I think,” I answered, stammering

ittle, “I think it’s because he calls on



of them home.”

In the months that followed, I marke

hat place in the sagebrush that I ha

sketched. I marked it with a woodestake, and took more than twenty friend

out to it. In every case the conclusio

was the same. My sketch was accurateThat meant the light from their suits tha

lluminated the sagebrush was real. Th

conclusion was inescapable. The whit

floating creatures were perfectly reaStill, for months afterward, my mind, m

psyche, simply refused to allow me t

accept the inevitable ironclaconclusion. Sometimes I would go ou

and stand on the gravel road, visuall

nspecting the footprints that the whit

creatures had left in the ditch. I woul



eave shaking my head, saying, “I can

allow myself to believe it. I just can

allow myself to believe it.”

I wasn’t lying to myself. Even with harsh dose of reality staring me in th

face, my body, my sanity, my very inne

being couldn’t accept the truth. Morders were to take the morning ru

every weekday morning. It took

special kind of courage to make the lon

nighttime drive, alone, night after nighknowing that something waited out ther

n the darkness, watching my ever

move. I decided that as long as the whitcreatures were willing to stay hidden i

he distant mountains, or run away whil

was still several miles away, that I had



no choice. For my own good, for m

own physical survival, I had no choic

but to forget the entire experience.

knew that I had to force myself to forgehe entire experience in order to surviv

even a week, alone, out on the ranges. I

order to help myself forget, in order tovercome my nighttime fears, in order t

find the courage so I could continue t

perform my military duties, I told mysel

hat it had just been a dream. I founmyself exclaiming over and over, “just

dream.” I kept repeating it as long a

hey let me, as long as they ran away, aong as they wanted only to hike b

hemselves, far away, under the beautifu

distant starlit Meadows of Arcturus.



Doxology

Then I heard one of the four livingcreatures say

in a voice like thunder, “Come.”

I looked, and there before me was a

white horse!

. . . Revelation 6:1

“Well, Charlie,” said Steve, “It’s beefive weeks, now. I guess you’ll be goin

back to Desert Center next week. We’re

sure going to miss you. I hope you’venjoyed this TDY up here.”

“I sure have, Steve,” I responde

honestly. “I’ll ask the Major to send m



up here again, as soon as possible

McIntyre will be coming up her

Monday to relieve me. He’s never bee

up here before, so I’ll spend next weeraining him. He’s a really likabl

person. He’ll fit right in.”

It was another beautiful late summeday at Mojave Wells. Steve, the othe

range rats, and I were sitting around i

our trucks watching a new flight o

planes making practice runs on the skipbomb targets. Then Steve turned to m

and using his north Georgia drawl said

“You know, Charlie, I really worryabout you spending so much time ou

here alone. It really isn’t that safe

especially coming out here before th

sun comes up, as you always do. Really



think you should fake more of thos

early morning runs and phone them i

from the barracks, like all those othe

guys used to do. You know, of courseou’re the only weather observe

hey’ve ever had up here that actuall

ook all of those wind measurements thaDesert Center requests. I think yo

should spend more time thinking abou

our personal safety, and less tim

hinking about those winds that DeserCenter always pretends it needs.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Steve,”

responded. “When I come out here a4:00 a.m., there’s never anything ou

here. I’ve never seen so much as

coyote or a rattle snake.” Living a life o



denial came so easy.

“Well, you can thank your lucky star

for that,” said Steve. “Those other guy

would have given their eye teeth, to bable to say that. But are you sure tha

nothing unusual has ever happened whe

ou were out here alone?”“Well,” I said, “There have been a

couple of unusual things. For one thing

he diesels haven’t been ver

dependable. Usually, they start upmmediately. The mechanics down at th

motor pool say that both diesels ar

almost new and in perfect conditionOnly one diesel actually needs to b

started. After all, I only turn on a on

hundred watt light bulb and a radio

During the last five weeks, however



heir performance has been prett

puzzling. Twice last week, when I had

urned on the starting motor for diese

one, the batteries were totally dead. Iwas the same way for diesel two. Bot

diesels are connected to all 20 batterie

out there in the shed and each battery ihuge. The mechanic told me that onl

one battery is actually needed, to star

he diesel. He said the idea of all 2

batteries going suddenly dead in thsummer time was inconceivable. Yet, on

hose two mornings, when I punched th

start button at 4:00 A.M., absolutelnothing happened. Even the engine on m

ruck had quit running. It quit on me fo

no reason, as I was approaching th



buildings. I had to walk that last quarte

mile in darkness, just to get to th

generator shack. Even my flashligh

wouldn’t work. I had to perform thentire wind analysis in darkness. I had t

struggle with my telephone. It jus

wouldn’t work. Then, suddenlyeverything cleared up. My phon

worked. My flashlight worked. When

went out to the generator shed and trie

he diesels, they started immediatelyThe batteries were charged an

everything. My truck also starte

perfectly. I really can’t explain it.“Then there’s the matter of my plasti

ools. As you know, my shack has a fron

door and a side door on it. In th

mornings, before I inflate the balloon,



always arrange the plastic rulers on m

work table in the shack. As you know

hey’re used to perform the win

computations. It’s just a habit, but ihelps me wake up in the morning and ge

hings moving. Well, when I’m tracking

he balloon, I have the front door closedand the side door open. Usually, th

morning winds are coming from th

south. This means that when I’m trackin

my balloon using the theodolite out fron’m standing with my back to my shac

with the door closed. This doesn’t let m

keep track of what’s going on behind mn the shack. But, you know, who cares.

mean I’m out here alone. It’s more tha

20 miles back to base. Well, on at leas



hree different mornings, when I finishe

racking the balloon and went back int

my weather shack, I could have swor

hat those plastic rulers had moved. Nomuch, you understand. Most peopl

would have missed it. For example, th

ast time it happened, my big ruler hamoved to the left a full quarter of a

nch. I’m certain it had been move

while I was out front tracking th

balloon, but I really can’t explain howhat could happen. I mean, I’d noticed it

position before hand and everything.”

Steve sat there quietly, as thougknowing the answer. Then he spoke, “

know you’re telling the truth, Charlie.”

Then, turning to the range rat, sittin

next to him, Doug, he said, “Tell him



about those ghosts you saw out at Rang

Two, Doug. It isn’t that far from here.”

“I won’t go out to Range Two

anymore, unless we’re all together,said Doug sincerely. “And I won’t go

out there at all at night. A year ago las

summer, we were all out there helpinout on some night missions. It was goin

on midnight. I had laid down on the sof

n the range lounge and gone to sleep.

In between missions, the rest of thrange rats had gone out on the range t

score the targets and had left me ther

alone. Since I was sleeping, they didnwant to wake me up. While I wa

sleeping, something suddenly woke m

up. I was so surprised. I almost died o



fright. There were four ghosts standin

n the darkness just inside the door of th

ounge, looking at me. A fifth one wa

keeping watch outside. Then one of thestayed by the door while the other thre

floated over to where I was, and looke

at me up close. I tell you, I just about haa bird I was so terrified.”

“What did they look like?” I asked.

“Just like ghosts,” said Doug simply

“They had faces and they were all whitand filmy, just like ghosts. When the

moved, everything was totally silen

They just floated silently into the room. was so terrified that I laid ther

screaming.”

“He sure did!” exclaimed Steve. We

could hear him way out on the range an



t’s almost three quarters of a mile ou

here.”

“After I began screaming,” said Doug

“The ghosts floated out, just as silentlas they had floated in.”

“Where did the ghosts go then, Doug?

asked. “They floated out around thcorner of the range lounge. After that

couldn’t see them anymore. There’s no

way I was going to follow them. Afte

hat, they could have floated up inthose mountains east of here withou

anyone being able to see them.”

“I don’t understand, Doug,” I said“You said one of them was keeping

watch.”

“Yes. You see, Charlie,” said Doug



“The three that floated over and checke

me out, were small. They must have onl

been three or four feet tall. The one tha

stayed by the door was taller. That onwas probably five and a half or six fee

all. The one keeping watch outside wa

real tall. That one might have been siand half or seven feet tall.”

“But I don’t understand why a group

of ghosts would need a lookout,” I said

“I mean, I didn’t think ghosts cared isomeone saw them.”

“I agree with you, Charlie,” said Dou

aughing. “But I sure as hell am not goinout there again to ask them.”

“Charlie, you really ought to give

some thought.” said Steve as we all sa

here laughing. “Tell me, Charlie,” said



Steve, “Have you ever seen any ghost

ike Doug, here?”

“No. I haven’t,” I answered, “But,

couple of times I did see a parachutfloating around down by the gate.”

“A parachute?” asked Steve. “

hought we picked all of them up. Youbetter tell me about it.”

“Sure,” I said. “You remember tha

ime two, maybe three, weeks ago whe

was not feeling well?”“Yes. I remember that, Charlie,” said

Steve. “I remember you were up

vomiting until midnight. I don’t knowhow you were able to get up and driv

out here for the morning run.”

“Something happened that mornin



hat I still wonder about. It was a rea

cold and windy morning. When I wen

out the front door of the barracks, I wa

so sick and dizzy that I dropped my keyout in the gravel parking lot. My visio

was blurred because I was so tired an

had been vomiting, so I had to get dowon my hands and knees to find my keys

At the time, I was so sick that I wa

afraid I was going to die. As I wa

crawling around, I looked out across thrunway, out into the valley. I wa

ooking out at the desert that’s straigh

north of the barracks. Out there, I coulsee some pale white fluorescent lights

They were a mile or so out in th

sagebrush. I only got a glimpse of the

because my vision was really blurry



and my head was pounding. I found m

keys, so I got up and got in my truck.

“I got my truck started. I turned on th

ights and heater, and I began drivinslowly out toward Range Three. Well

when I got out there by that little rock

hill where the Range Three gate is, discovered that the gate had been closed

ow I’m certain that I left that gate ope

he afternoon before. That was the da

ou guys were mowing lawns here obase, so I know that none of you coul

have closed the gate. Well, I stopped my

ruck just in front of the gate, with tharocky hill right beside me on my left.

set the brake. I left my headlights on, an

left the engine idling. I opened the doo



and I got out real slow because I was s

sick, I was afraid of falling on my face.

“Once I was out of the truck, I looke

over by that rocky hill. My head hurt sbadly, I thought it was going to explode

My vision was so blurry that I didn’t pa

much attention to what I saw. There waa tall pale fluorescent white piece o

filmy plastic or something floating abou

30 feet from me. It was maybe five and

half or six feet tall. It seemed to bfloating a foot or so above ground. Nex

o it was a much smaller piece of plasti

ust like it. It was only three or four feeall. At first I thought they might b

pieces of some old parachute because

couldn’t see anything through them a

ou can through plastic.



“The two of them were off to my left

They were floating in the lee of that littl

rocky hill. They were right up next to

on the north side. My head hurt so muchat I didn’t give them a second look.

didn’t look at their tops. I didn’t look t

see if there were more of them. I didnook at anything. At the time I was reall

annoyed that the gate was down becaus

t was so painful for me to get out of m

ruck and walk around. Well, every steptook made me sicker. The gate wasn’

ocked. I got over to the right side of th

road and got the gate raised, you knowhow easy it is to swing it up and down.

was so sick that I couldn’t help myself.

started vomiting into the sagebrush.



stood there, bent over, and just vomited

my guts into the sand. At the time, I wa

afraid I wasn’t going to be able to wal

back to my truck. As I was trying to gehold of myself, I noticed that the tal

white parachute was floating slowl

oward me. I suddenly noticed that wasn’t lying against the rocky hill, th

way I thought a parachute should be

nstead, I noticed that it was fre

standing. It floated toward me, the way helium-filled balloon might float. I

slowly closed the distance between us t

ess than 15 feet. I didn’t know what tmake of it because it had to float agains

he wind to do it. I was so sick that

couldn’t raise my head to see all of it.

was only looking at its mid section.”



“That must have really terrified you

didn’t it, Charlie?” asked Steve in a

understanding tone. “You were out ther

all alone, vomiting your guts out, tosick to walk, and trapped away fro

our truck. What did you do?”

“That’s the funny part,” I continued. “was so deathly sick, I really didn’t fee

he slightest bit afraid. I know it sound

silly, and I was probably hallucinating

but the large white floating parachute felike it had come to help me. I remembe

hinking that the gate had been closed o

purpose so that the white parachutcould get a close look at me. I remembe

hinking the white parachute wanted t

see if I needed help to stay alive. It’



really hard to explain how confused m

feelings were. I stood there, bent over b

he side of the road, vomiting my gut

nto the sagebrush. Then I fell down omy hands and knees and continue

vomiting some more. At the time, fea

was the last thing on my mind.”“What happened then?” asked Steve.

“Well, as I was vomiting, I had to

ook away from whatever-it-was.

remember thinking that I was going to ball right. I needed to get lots of rest, an

o be more careful when I was driving

Out of the corner of my eye, I could sehe white parachute had stopped floatin

oward me. Instead, it and the other littl

parachute slowly floated back aroun

he north end of that little rocky hill.



finished vomiting, and very slowl

forced myself to get back up. Then

hobbled back across the road, in front o

my headlights. Finally, I was able to geback in my truck on the driver’s side

Once I got the door closed, I sat there fo

a few minutes, letting the engine idleMy head was pounding, and I needed t

rest. I was hoping my blurry visio

would go away. The window on my sid

was rolled down because I needed thfresh air. It really hurt whenever I turned

my head, but I forced myself to turn m

head to the left and take a closer look ahe top of the rocky hill. The whit

parachutes were floating on the othe

side, and only their tops could be see



above the top of the hill. My vision wa

really blurry and I couldn’t tell how

many there were. My mind kind o

recoiled in disbelief at what I was ablo see. The parachutes must have bee

something like helium filled plasti

weather balloons or maybe cloth sheetsdon’t know. Anyway, the top of the

arge white fluorescent one was roun

ust like a large balloon. My vision wa

still blurry at the time, but it sure lookeike it had eyes and that it was watchin

me. Well, anyway, I put my truck in gear

and started driving toward Range Three was worried because I was sure tha

my flu was causing my mind to pla

ricks on me. When I got out here, a

soon as I got out of the truck, I started up



he generator. Well, you know how much

noise those things make. The racket jus

about killed me. My head was poundin

so badly, I thought I was going to break blood vessel. I stumbled out of th

generator shack and fell up against m

ruck, waiting for the pain to go awayMy vision was still blurred. When

ooked back down the Range Three roa

oward the gate, I could see those whit

parachutes were still there by that littlrocky hill. Even though it’s severa

miles down there, I could have swor

hey were still looking at me. I took mwind measurements and called them int

Desert Center. Actually, I was so sick

hat I wasn’t able to track the balloon fo



more than a couple of minutes, so I ha

o make up the last seven readings. I wa

really mad at myself, but my vision wa

so blurry and my head was pounding sbadly, I couldn’t see the balloon in th

heodolite.

“When I made up the winds, I wacareful to show high winds at all of th

altitudes. It really was windy so I gues

what I made up wasn’t too far from wha

he winds actually were. Then I tolDesert Center to cancel all of the flight

for that day because the high winds mad

flight operations dangerous. That way, figured if I were too sick to take an

more wind measurements, I could mak

up the rest of the day’s runs and none o

he pilots would be in danger. I locked



up my weather shack and began walkin

slowly back to my truck. I was gettin

sicker by the minute, and I decided that

should just drive back into base anspend the rest of the morning resting i

my barracks. Well, I was thinking these

hings just as I was reaching my truck. Iwas still parked out by the generato

shack. Looking down the Range Thre

road, I could still see those whit

parachutes floating by the little rockhill. I remember how comforted I felt.

“I shut down the diesels and staggere

back to my truck. Then, starting my truck drove slowly and carefully back t

base. When I passed through the Rang

Three gate, those white parachute



where still floating on the other side o

hat rocky hill. I could still see thei

white fluorescent tops, just above the to

of the hill. I didn’t have the faintest idewhat to make of it, but I was so sick

ust kept driving. In order to make

back into base and into my barracks, had to do something to take my mind of

my terrible headache. The only thing tha

helped any was to silently sing religiou

songs. As I was pulling up in front of thbarracks, I was silently singing. When

got out of my truck and started up th

steps back into my barracks, I canexplain it, but it felt like the large whit

parachute was actually happy that I wa

safe. I mean it felt like the parachute wa

happier than I was. I don’t know what t



make of it all, Steve, I really don’t. On

afternoon during the next week, when

was feeling better, I stopped my truck a

he gate and climbed that little rocky hilso I could see what was on the othe

side. I was so surprised. There wasn’t

hing on the other side. There wasnanything over there but sand an

sagebrush. I haven’t the faintest ide

what became of those white parachutes

guess I just must have been so sick thamy eyes were playing tricks on me.

really don’t know what to make of it.”

Steve listened to it all. Then he saiquietly and carefully, “Oh, there’

nothing the matter with your eyes

Charlie. In fact, I’d say that you ha



good eyes, indeed.”

Then he added, “Now I see wh

Desert Center sent you up here, Charlie

Any man who can keep his wits abouhim the way you did, is definitely th

man I’d send up to this place. Any of th

others that Desert Center sent up herewould have killed themselves jus

urning the truck around at the gate. B

now, the rest of them would be up ther

singing with God, instead of down herpraising him.”



Missteps

How, then, can they call on the onethey have not believed in?

And how can they believe in the one

of whom they have not heard?

Romans 10:14

The ringing barracks phone finall

woke me. Still half asleep, “Charlie,” mumbled. It was Master Sergean

Walters.

“Charlie, I’m sorry to wake you searly. I know it’s only 6 a.m., and you

worked until midnight, last night, but

problem has developed up at the gunner



ranges. The major and I would like t

meet with you in the major’s office a

7:00 a.m.”

“Yes, sergeant.” I answeredrespectfully, “I’ll be there at 7:00 sharp

s the problem serious?”

“Yes.” answered the sergeant. “We’lfill you in on the details when you ge

here.”

7:00 a.m. found me taking a chair i

he major’s office, directly in front of hidesk. Dwight, Sergeant Walters, Th

major, and the Irish weather forecaster

O’Keefe were present. Sergeant Walterhanded me the clipboard holding the las

hree weeks of wind measurements take

at Mojave Wells, and began seriously

“Yesterday, Sergeant O’Keefe brough



hese winds to the major’s attention

This is Thursday. McIntyre has been up

at Mojave Wells alone now, for almos

hree weeks. You’re the ranking MojaveWells observer. Look at these winds

What do you make of them?”

Quickly I flipped through the 14 dayworth of wind measurements, an

answered the sergeant, “Well, he started

out OK. His first three days on his own

he certainly had no problems. I see hmissed several balloon runs on the nex

day, the first Thursday he was there. Th

next day, Friday, I wonder about his lasrun from range three. The winds loo

OK, and his report says he took them a

1:30 in the afternoon. The problem i



hat I was working day shift that day. I’m

certain he didn’t phone them in unti

3:40 in the afternoon. I was almost of

shift by that time. I remember it verwell because I gave him a hard tim

about it. He got angry with me when

suggested that he had been sleeping ihe afternoon. I pointed out to him tha

he last flight that day was off the range

at 10:30 a.m. I told him how I’d tried t

reach him on the phone at least six timebetween 2:30 and 3:30 in the afternoon

He never once answered his phone. H

swore he’d been out there on ranghree, wide awake every minute of th

ime. I had quite a time calming hi

down, and convincing him that it wa

3:40 in the afternoon. No matter how h



explained it there was a block of tim

between 1:45 and 3:30 that he simpl

couldn’t account for. He swore that he’d

aken the 1:30 afternoon winds oschedule. He swore that he had jus

walked back to the weather shack an

performed the calculations in a normamanner. He said his mind had wandered

a little bit, and his watch had stoppe

while he was walking back to the shack

But, even so, that shouldn’t have takehim more than 15 minutes.

Then, last week, something reall

serious must have happened down arange one, on Tuesday afternoon, afte

he finished taking his readings for th

day. As you can see his actual Tuesday



readings from range one look fine, bu

his readings from range three, taken o

he next day, Wednesday, can’t possibly

be right. The rest of his winmeasurements since a week ag

Wednesday don’t look like they’re wort

he paper they’re written on. LasWednesday, for example, he wa

reporting the 10:00 a.m. winds for ever

evel from the surface on up to 14,00

feet to be 25 miles per hour from thnorth. That can’t possibly be correct

We’ve had perfect summer weathe

here for the last three weeks. Thos10:00 a.m. winds must certainly hav

been light and variable, no more than

miles per hour, from the south west.”

Sergeant Walters, smiling, responded



“Dwight, here, says that last Wednesday

morning something terrified McIntyre ou

on the ranges. Dwight thinks it ha

something to do with Range FouHarry.”

“That’s what Bryan, one of the rang

rats, said, when I phoned the barrackast Wednesday morning,” stated

Dwight, in a matter of fact manner. “

remember the other weather observer

we used to send up there a couple yearago reported having blocks of missin

ime whenever Range Four Harry starte

coming in close. One time that black guyBob Montgomery, was missing from

range three for most of an afternoon. Th

range Rats swore that his truck wa



parked out there and everything, but tha

he was nowhere around. Then, just a

suddenly, he came walking back in to

range three on the road from thammunition bunker. Bob was in perfec

health, but he couldn’t remember

single detail of where he’d been or whahe’d been doing. He didn’t even know

hat any time had passed. A couple

mornings later he came in to breakfas

really late.He was absolutely terrified of th

ranges, and had to be replaced.”

The sergeant continued, “SergeanO’Keefe, here, says that these wind

were actually phoned in by one of th

cooks, and he thinks McIntyre has bee

somehow incapacitated, and isn’t tellin



us the details. Sergeant O’Keefe says

doesn’t seem like McIntyre. We al

know that he’s very intelligent, hard

working, and I know he was well trainewhen you left him up there. Even if h

were afraid to go out to range three fo

some screwy reason, like seeing a buncof white shadows, or maybe Range Fou

Harry, it still doesn’t make sense. If h

were making up all of these winds, he’

so intelligent, he’d sure have made ubetter winds than the ones recorde

here.”

“I don’t mean any disrespect, SergeanWalters,” interjected Dwight, “and

know you don’t believe in Range Fou

Harry because you have never been ou



here at night and seen him, but Rang

Four Harry isn’t a screwy reason. He’

quite real. Both the Major and I hav

seen him out on range four.”Then the Major stated simply

“Dwight is right. Just the same, if w

don’t figure this one out, Charlie, I’going to have to give McIntyre six week

n the brig, and a section eigh

discharge.”

Sergeant Walters continued, “Wewould like you to go up there thi

morning, and figure out what th

problem is. Our problem is thadetachment policy, which was given u

by our commander at Tinker AFB

Oklahoma, says that because the range

are considered to be isolated duty, w



can’t order you to another TDY at th

ranges, until you’ve been back here a

Desert Center for at least 6 month

unless, of course, you volunteer. Weknow this is only the third week tha

ou’ve been back here at Desert Center

We all appreciate the excellent jobou’ve been doing, and we know how

difficult the isolation at Mojave Well

can be, but we were hoping that yo

would volunteer to return to MojavWells for the rest of the week, and

determine what the problem is up there.”

“No problem, Sergeant,” I responded“I’ll take the Desert Center detachmen

ruck up this morning, with my TDY

clothes, and I’ll send McIntyre back wit



he Desert Center detachment truck

omorrow afternoon. That’ll give m

ime to figure out what the problem is

and to make up the best estimate of whahe winds actually were. Cut me up

new set of TDY orders for the Wells

’ll be down Monday evening, aftecompleting the afternoon runs, to sig

hem and pick up my TDY pay. Then I’l

stay up there for six weeks, unless yo

decide to relieve me earlier. I’ll takalong some extra supplies, forms

balloons, and things, as long as I’

going.“I have no idea what the proble

could be, but it’s probably somethin

simple. Maybe he’s afraid of the desert

and losing his sense of direction, o



maybe his equipment needs calibration

Don’t worry, major, I’m sure he’s trying

his best, and I don’t think he’ll have t

be given a section eight discharge, oanything.

“You know McIntyre is not one to

frighten easily. He’s used to lookingafter himself in a fight. He grew up in th

slums of New York City. He always

carries those two throwing knives of his

He keeps them razor sharp, and if he feseriously threatened, he wouldn

hesitate to use them. He is supporting hi

mother, back in New York City. She’shis only living relative. I know he take

his Air Force duties very seriously, and

’ve always been impressed with how



hard he works. I’m certain we can ge

his straightened out, just as soon as

can get up to the gunnery ranges to loo

hings over.”Then the major laughed, “You really

don’t want me to have the fun o

convening a court martial board foanyone, do you Charlie?”

“Well, major, if you decide they need

t, I always respect the decisions of m

commanders and ranking sergeants,” answered respectfully.

The major continued laughing. Then

he asked seriously, “When you were uphere on your last TDY, Charlie, did you

ever see any evidence of Range Fou

Harry?”

After mulling things over in my min



for a few minutes, I answered slowl

and truthfully, “When I was up a

Mojave Wells on my last TDY, I never

saw any signs of a radioactive horseMajor, but driving out to range three a

3:30 a.m. on a dark, warm, and wind

morning can be a mighty scarexperience. I mean, I really enjoy bein

stationed up at the Wells. I’m really

ooking forward to another tour of dut

up there, Major, but the things that arout there on those ranges at night ca

sure make a man’s blood run cold.”

“Like that one summer morning wheou were up at the Wells, and there

wasn’t a cloud in the sky. You reported

hat a small patch of what appeared to b



a rainstorm without water, followin

ou? You reported that it floated down

he road from range four, until it wa

only 150 feet away from you,questioned the major.

“Yes, Major,” I answered, truthfully.

“Did it ever take on the appearance oa horse?” asked Dwight, seriously, “You

know, did it ever look like a gian

Trojan horse, standing out in th

sagebrush?”“Well, yes,” I answered, stil

ruthfully. “You see, when I first arrived

out at range three that morning, it was beautiful clear night. The moon was full

and the sagebrush just glistened in th

moonlight. After I started the diesel, and

had some electricity, I noticed a larg



patch of white misty, almost fluorescen

ight way up the valley. It must hav

been almost forty miles up there. It wa

way up the valley by the mountains to thnorthwest, and it was coming dow

owards the range four buildings. It mus

have covered the distance from thmountains, down to the range fou

buildings in less than 15 minutes. Sinc

t was so far away from me, I didn

hink much of it. I had no idea what was, but I felt that I needed to mention

n the weather report. So even though

was a dry hot summer night, I guessed was probably a little rainstorm, o

maybe a small patch of fog.

“Anyway, I watched it for a littl



while. It drifted in around the range fou

buildings, as though it was looking int

all of them. Then it started drifting dow

he range four road. Still I didn’t thinmuch of it. After all, who’s afraid of a

ittle rain? I ignored it and went on abou

my business. I filled a balloon withelium, attached the light for nigh

viewing. I took the balloon outside an

released it. I lost track of the rainstor

for a while. There is that rise in thdesert, and I couldn’t see the full lengt

of the range four road. Suddenly, afte

my third minute reading, I was startled tsee the rainstorm come up over the ris

n the range four road. I was reall

surprised because there wasn’t a breat

of wind, yet it had to have drifted dow



at least 10 miles of road in less than 2

minutes. I mean that’s traveling at leas

30 miles an hour, and I started feeling

ittle anxious about my exposed position“I looked at it through my theodolite. I

was about a mile and a half away at th

ime. When it topped the rise in the rangfour road, it looked like a giant floatin

horse. At the time, I was standing there

saying to myself, over and over, ‘tha

can’t be right. It can’t possibly be horse.’

“It floated down the range four roa

until it had almost reached the edge ohe graveled area at range three. Then i

drifted sideways, to the west, until

was out in the sagebrush, just behind th



control tower, no more than 150 fee

from me, and then it just stayed there. I

did all of this in total silence.

“I was really confused as to what tdo next. I finished my balloon readings

finished my weather report, and phone

he station here at Desert Center. Bhen, I had been watching it for mor

han an hour.

“Well, Sergeant Adams was working

he forecaster shift. He didn’t believe mwhen I told him about this white fogg

patch of rain. He didn’t believe that i

could possibly be raining for more thaan hour out of a clear blue sky, and h

wanted me to walk over to it, and get

better look at it.

“When I went over to get a good clos



ook at it, the way the forecaster aske

me to, it would just parallel m

movements. When I walked in it

direction, to the north, it would retreafrom me. When I turned around in

circle, it would drift around in a circle

When I returned to my theodolite, followed me, keeping its distance. I

seemed to almost be playing with me

When I looked at it through m

heodolite, it would hide behind thrange three lounge buildings. Leaving m

heodolite open, I walked quickly ove

o where it was. I got to within 50 feet ot before it drifted away from me. It wa

capable of moving very fast. It must hav

been traveling 20 miles an hour when i



retreated from me, out into th

sagebrush. For a few minutes, there,

could see into the mist. It actually hur

my eyes to look at it when I was uclose. When I looked directly into th

mist, it looked like there were at leas

wo adult people and three children, alstanding or floating inside this rainstor

ike patch of mist. The adults looke

very tall, maybe six feet, and they wer

very thin and white. I only got to look at for a minute or so, before it retreate

out into the sagebrush and just drifte

back and forth there.“I started walking back to my weathe

shack, and I became alarmed when

started following me. Then I becam

frightened, and I ran the rest of the wa



back to my shack. I got inside m

weather shack, and locked all of th

doors from the inside. I tell you, Major,

had become absolutely terrified of thahing. It didn’t seem as though it intende

o attack me, but it just felt as though

was intensely curious about everything had and everything I did.

“This patch of mist came all the wa

up to the theodolite, and seemed to floa

all around it-as though whatever wahiding in the mist was looking throug

he theodolite. Then it floated all aroun

he range three buildings, retreated at eisurely pace back towards th

northwest. It split into two patches, an

he biggest patch floated up the valley t



he northwest. The narrower patc

drifted back up the range four road. I

would stop and wait, every now an

hen, as though it were guarding oprotecting the white patch floating up th

valley. After about a half hour, both

patches had reached the range foubuildings. Then, both patches drifte

back up the valley, towards thos

mountains to the northwest, where the

had come from.“I don’t know what it was, bu

whatever it was, it couldn’t possibl

have been an actual rainstorm.”Dwight looked at the major for a few

minutes, and the major looked back

Then Dwight spoke, “You say that when

ou were up close to it, it looked as i



here were a family of people inside o

he mist?”

“Yes, when I was real close,”

answered truthfully. “But it hurt my eyeo look into the mist when I was tha

close, so I can’t be sure. They appeare

o look a lot like we do, but there wersome differences. They wore chal

white suits that looked like aluminu

canvas. They had white skin, just a

white as a piece of paper. Their eyewere larger than ours and spread mor

around the side of their heads. Thei

noses were flat and they were muchinner then we are.”

Dwight continued in big brotherl

ones, “Charlie, you got a closer an



better look at range four Harry than an

weather observer ever has. You be

careful, Charlie. Be very careful.”

“But I thought you said that RangFour Harry was a large radioactiv

horse?” I asked Dwight.

“That’s how he appeared to ThMajor and I, because he was over a mil

away at the time. He looked to us th

way he looked to you when that patch o

mist topped the rise in the range fouroad. Steve, though, head of the rang

rats, has always maintained that whe

ou get up close to him, he looks morike a person or a group of people than

horse.”

Then Sergeant Walters said, “Charlie

even though I’ve never seen Range Fou



Harry, all of us here have learned not to

disbelieve you when you turn in a

observation. I remember a few month

back, on that hot summer morning whet was clear as a bell down here a

Desert Center, and you reported that th

ranges were totally fogged in, witabsolutely no visibility. None of u

believed you when you ordered th

ranges closed to all aircraft flying below

20,000 feet.”“Yes. On the 4:30 run, I couldn’t even

see the weather shack when I was 1

feet away from it,” I answererespectfully, “My barometer wa

changing so rapidly that I didn’t believ

my altimeter setting was of any use, so



didn’t want any planes coming below th

mountains into the Mojave Wells valley

until the sun had a chance to burn the fo

off.”Sergeant Walters continued, “Well,

remember how we all thought that yo

had been drinking, and maybe werensober enough to be reporting th

weather. I remember how all of us wer

n agreement, and sent those six F10

airplanes up for low level strafing anskip bombing lessons anyway.

remember even talking with the Deser

Center tower, and giving them the OK toaunch the planes, after you had phone

he tower and ordered all of the flight

canceled.”

Then Sergeant O’Keefe spoke up



“That bird colonel that was leading th

flight, burned us when he got back.

remember him showing up here with th

Desert Center base commander, andchewing us up one side and down th

other. The tower operator who OK’ed

he flight was given an article 1disciplinary hearing, and demoted on

grade. They played back the recording o

ou ordering the ranges closed an

stating why, and the operator didn’t hava leg to stand on for OK’ing the flight.”

Then the major interjected

“Remember that surprise inspectiowhich the Inspector General from Tinke

pulled on us, after that Colone

complained all the way up the line. H



claimed that the fog obscured the top o

Mount Baldy and one of his men misse

he peak by less than 50 feet. I got sic

of answering questions from thanspector General.”

Then Sergeant Walters said in fatherly

ones, “When you’re up there, rememberCharlie, you can call anyone of us her

at the station, or at home, anytime. If yo

should ever decide that you want

second observer up there with you, jusphone Dwight, or the major, or me

We’ll send someone like Dwight o

Payne right up on the same day.”“Thanks, Sergeant,” I replied

“Thanks, all of you. I’ll remember that

but don’t worry about me. I’ll be jus

fine. There’s nothing up there that’



going to hurt me.”

Then Dwight said, seriously, “I hop

so, Charlie. I sure hope so.”

The meeting ended as abruptly as had begun. I checked out the Deser

Center detachment truck, stopped by th

supply warehouse for six months oweather forms, a couple of boxes o

batteries, and several boxes of extr

balloons. Then, I stopped off at m

barracks for my clothes, my shaving kiand my uniforms. My roommate, Payne

was just getting up. “What’s up

Charlie,” he asked. Payne stood 6'2”weighed 260 lb., all muscle. He wa

built like a tank. When he was in

pleasant mood, most men wanted to keep



him that way. I was no exception.

“It’s McIntyre,” I answered in eve

ones. “He’s in some kind of trouble up

at Mojave Wells. Something must havescared him, out on the ranges, and now

he winds he’s sending in are useless. I

don’t do something fast, the major wilcourt martial him. He’ll get brig tim

and a section eight discharge for sure.”

“Yeah, I agree with you,” answered

Payne. “I could hear Walters andO’Keefe in the major’s office, yesterda

when I worked day shift. If Dwigh

hadn’t talked them into giving you chance to go up there, and check thing

out, the major would already have him i

he brig, and his mother would b

starving. What I can’t figure out, Charlie



s how anything could frighten McIntyre

He grew up in the slums of New York

City, and he always carries those knive

with him. Last month I had to stop a fighbetween him and two white guys in tha

bar just off base. The fact that there wer

wo of them didn’t bother him in thslightest. Then, on the way back to base

he was angry with me for stepping in

but I had to. He’d have knifed those tw

before either one of them knew whawas happening.”

“I sure agree with you. I’d bette

hurry. Maybe I can catch him over thnoon meal,” I answered as I loaded m

duffel bag into the waiting truck, an

headed off base.



It was another beautiful late summe

day, in the Palm Meadows valley. One

beautiful desert scene merged int

another as I headed across the valley annorthwest towards Mojave Wells. The

mountains on both sides of the pass wer

absolutely stunning as they rested in theiate summer foliage.

It was going on 11 o’clock when

pulled my truck off the highway an

hrough the entrance into the MojavWells field. I knew that McIntyre wa

scheduled for an 11:15 balloon run, and

here were no planes using range threoday. I decided to head directly out to

he range three weather shack. I hoped

could get there before McIntyre phone



he winds into Desert Center. That way

could make sure the winds he phone

n were accurate. I could pretend

hadn’t arrived yet so he would get all ohe credit.

He needed all the help he could get i

staving off a section eight.As I was driving out the range thre

road, nostalgia flooded over me.

noticed that 11:20 had arrived. Still no

balloon had been released. When finally arrived out at range three an

pulled up in front of the weather shack

here could no longer be any doubt. Noonly was the range deserted but judgin

by the lack of truck tracks, the weathe

shack hadn’t been used for many days.

Using my spare set of keys, I unlocke



he front door and peered inside

Everything looked normal, but unused.

stepped gingerly inside and looke

around. According to the records, noballoon runs had been taken at rang

hree for almost two full weeks. A quick

check of the balloon inventory showe45 more balloons than it should have

The shelves inside held his persona

radio, one of his favorite cigarett

ighters, two of his magazines, a lettehome dated a week ago Tuesday, and

almost $5 dollars in cash.

I decided not to phone Desert Centeust yet, until I had a chance to talk wit

McIntyre. I closed the weather shack an

ocked it, and started walking back to th



detachment truck. It was a beautiful da

on the ranges. I lingered a few minutes

ust to enjoy the sagebrush, the birds

and the soft gentle winds. Out on the skipbomb area, out in the sagebrush to th

southeast, the wind, or something hidde

on the ground, was making a path osmooth ripples as it headed dow

owards range two at the base of th

mountains to the southeast. Off in th

distance I could hear a gentle barking. concluded there must be a stray dog o

something down that way. As I wa

climbing into my truck, I was certain heard a short, sudden whinny, much lik

hat of a horse, coming from th

northeast. In any event, it was going o

noon. I knew I was going to have t



drive fast in order to make the noon mea

at the chow hall. I started the truck. As

wheeled the truck around, I noticed on

of McIntyre’s throwing knives lying ihe middle of the graveled area.

stopped, picked, it up, placed it on th

ruck seat next to me, and headed intbase.

It took me a while to make it to th

chow hall. There was a lot on my mind

and I had a lot of thinking to do. As pulled up into the parking area on th

west side of the chow hall, I noticed th

Mojave Wells weather truck sittinghere, parked in the back. Except for th

cooks, the chow hall was deserted whe

strode in.



“Charlie!” yelled Smokey as I walke

n. “It’s good to see you. What bring

ou up here?”

The cooks surrounded me before knew it. They were all shaking my han

and telling me how good it was to se

me again.“Desert Center wants me to reliev

McIntyre,” I stated. Then, realizing tha

criticizing him wouldn’t help m

purpose, I continued with a fast pacewhite lie, “We have some new guy

arriving down at Desert Center. Th

Major wants McIntyre to train themMcIntyre remembers what’s in all o

hose manuals better than I do.”

Smokey laughed and replied, “You



know Charlie, you are so honest tha

some days you can’t lie worth a darn

You’re up here because Desert Cente

has noticed how screwed up those windare that the new cook has been callin

n, aren’t you?”

There was hardly any point in denyint to a good friend like Smokey, so

responded truthfully, “Yes, but don’t tel

anybody. If I don’t do something fast

Mic will get six weeks in the brig and section eight.”

“That bad.” replied Smokey.

“Yah, they’re mad,” I answered. “Telme, what’s been going on up here

anyway?”

“Well, I tell you, Charlie, ever since

ou left, old Mic has been having on



hell of a time of it. First there was tha

barracks down by the runway that yo

always stayed in. You know, of course

hat nobody but you has ever stayed ihat barracks since white things starte

showing up in that barracks, way back i

1954. Well, Mic, you know, bunked inhere with you. Then, a couple of day

after he was in there by himself, h

became afraid of the place. That firs

Wednesday night, he parked his truckover behind the airman’s club. H

ocked the truck doors and laid wa

down in the front seat. Then he’d looout by using a hand mirror, like he’d

earned in New York City. He sat there

until way into the morning, watching th



barracks to see if anything went insid

or not. Sure enough, about one in th

morning he saw these two adults an

hree children come out of the sagebrusnorthwest of here, sneak up to th

barracks and go inside. He was might

scared. He said they were white all oveand something about them didn’t loo

normal.”

“You say he saw a white family go

nto the barracks where he wasleeping?” I asked.

“Yup.” replied Smokey. “But they

weren’t white like the people in townThese guys were really white.”

“They were whiter than I am?”

asked.

“Ah, man,” laughed Smokey. “You



aren’t white. You just think you’re white

on account of all your grand daddie

came from England. You’ll see. One day

both you and I will be standing up ifront of Jesus without our skins on an

ou’ll see. Underneath we’re both th

same color. Remember, Charlie, you and are brothers-we’re blood-bloo

brothers before Jesus. But these guys

man, I got a glimpse of them later tha

night when they were out hiding in thsagebrush. They were white-I mean the

were REAL white.

Well, Mic came over to our barrackand got a bunch of us together whil

hese guys were still in that barracks

There were 8 or 10 of us. We were



going over there to trap them. We al

wanted to give them a good beating, bu

Steve, Bryan, and your friend Doug al

got in front of us and told us that would be the dumbest thing we ever di

f we went over there. They swore tha

hose white guys would kill all of us fosure. Since Steve out ranked us, h

ordered us back into our barracks, Mi

ncluded. That’s where we spent th

night. There’s no extra space in oubarracks so we got a bed out of storage

We set it up in the aisle, right by the

bathroom. That’s where Mic is sleepinnow.”

“So why is the cook making up th

winds now?” I asked.

“We just don’t know,” responded



Smokey, shaking his head from side to

side. “That’s something he and Stev

worked out a couple of weeks ago. Ol

Mic was out there at range three, onmorning. He came back into base scare

out of his skin. Steve has been having u

cover for him ever since.”“So where is McIntyre, now?”

asked.

“He’s out on the ranges with Stev

and a bunch of range rats, right nowYou’ll have to wait until they come fo

evening chow to talk with him. I’ll tel

ou one thing, he’s going to be happhat you’re up here to send him back t

Desert Center.”

My empty stomach reminded me that



hadn’t eaten yet. The time for the nex

balloon run was rapidly approaching

Turning to the new cook, I stated simply

“Starting now, I’ll be responsible for alof the weather measurements for as lon

as I’m up here. So I don’t want you t

phone in any more weather informatioo Desert Center. I’ll eat, here, real fast

and I’ll take the rest of the weathe

measurements for today and for the res

of my TDY.”The new cook seemed only too happ

o hand me the forms he’d been using

he keys to the weather shacks, and thkeys to the Mojave Wells weather truck

grabbed a quick meal, climbed into th

Desert Center weather detachment truck

and headed on out to range three. I had t



hurry if I intended to get the balloon of

on time.

The drive out was uneventful, an

soon I was parking my weather truck ifront of the range three weather shack. I

was a beautiful day. As I climbed out o

my truck at range three, I could still heahat distant barking out in the sagebrush.

I opened the weather shack and note

hat the time was 1:30 exactly. Since th

run was scheduled for 1:30, I decide’d better phone Desert Center and le

hem know that the run would be late

First, I jerked a white balloon from itbox, for use against clear blue skies.

attached it to the helium-filling nozzl

and turned on the helium. The gauge



showed immediately that the cylinde

was empty. “More delays!” I exclaimed

as I opened the side door to the east.

picked up the phone, and dialed DeserCenter. Dwight answered.

“Dwight!” I exclaimed, “It’s me

Charlie. I’m up here at range three. I’running late on the 1:30 run. I’m going t

have to change helium cylinders, an

adjust the theodolite, so the run will b

20 minutes late.”Dwight laughed, “So, you didn’t sto

o tease any women in the bar

downtown, like Sergeant Walters and bet you would.”

“No.” I laughed in return, “But I sur

wanted to. Phone me when you finish th

2:00 p.m. weather report. I should b



ust finishing the winds.”

“Right,” answered Dwight. “Where’

McIntyre?”

I didn’t feel it would help McIntyre’case if I said very much, so I answere

with a white lie, “I needed a couple o

new screws for the base of thheodolite. He’s off at the motor poo

getting them. The theodolite was movin

all over on him because a couple of th

screws were broken. He was confuseas to which direction is north, so h

didn’t catch it.”

Dwight laughed, “That’ll keep hifrom losing a stripe and getting a sectio

eight, Charlie, but it’ll never convinc

me. I’ll phone you at 2:00.”



I switched to a new helium cylinde

and rushed the balloon run. Of course

here was nothing really wrong with th

screws on the theodolite. I was short oime so I didn’t pay much attention to th

sounds that I occasionally heard comin

from way out in the sagebrush. I was jusfinishing the computations when Dwigh

phoned back. He never doubted me, bu

he did sound noticeably relieved when

answered the phone. Now he could babsolutely certain that these winds wer

dependable.

After I had hung up the phone, I tidieup the place. I didn’t disturb any o

McIntyre’s personal belongings or hi

money. I was quite tired. I decided that



would wait until the morning to correc

he errors in the weather forms. I locke

up the shack. Then I spent some tim

standing by my truck, studying thsagebrush meadows east of the rang

hree buildings. As I stood ther

watching the beautiful desert scene ifront of me, I began to wonder if ther

wasn’t something hiding, or playing

way out in the sagebrush, to the southeas

and to the northeast of me. As I watchedfelt certain that I had gotten a glimps

of something white, moving through gap

n the sagebrush. I thought about it for few minutes. I began to wonder if I wa

really as alone as I thought I was.

“Oh, well.” I said to myself, “I’

certainly not going to make the mistak



of going out there to check. I’m too tire

for that.” I shrugged it off, climbed int

my truck, and headed on into base. Whe

arrived, I naturally parked thdetachment truck next to the west end o

he empty double barracks. However,

wasn’t sure which barracks I woulactually sleep in. Then I walked up t

he chow hall. I drove the Mojave Well

weather truck over to the motor pool fo

gas, down to my barracks, and parkehe two trucks side by side.

All of this had taken some time. It wa

good to be back. I naturally spent a lot oime talking with my friends. When I go

back to my barracks, it was already tim

for the evening meal. I spent some tim



watching the large 4-wheel-drive powe

wagons of Steve and the range rats a

hey came in off the ranges. They ha

been working up the valley way out the west. The dry dust from the deser

formed large and artistic clouds in th

ate afternoon sun as they came ioward base. Like hungry soldier

everywhere, they headed directly for th

chow hall. I could see McIntyre sitting i

he seat behind Steve. Even in thdistance, it was obvious that he wa

errified of something.

I decided to unpack my belongingbefore going up to the chow hall. I fel

hat things would go easier on McIntyr

f I first let him have a good meal. I

shocked me, then, when McIntyre, chos



o come running down to my barrack

before even going for chow. I stil

remember how frantically he ran the tw

blocks or so to my barracks, calling oumy name as he ran. I guess I hadn

realized that we’d become such goo

friends.“Charlie! Charlie!” he shoute

frantically, “You can’t sleep there. You

can’t be in there when night comes.”

“Why, McIntyre?” I asked calmlystepping outside to meet him.

“They’ll come, Charlie. They alway

do!” he carried on frantically. “You’reaking your life in your hands. They’l

come! I tell you, they always come

Come over to my barracks. You can



even use my bunk. I’ll sleep on th

floor.”

“Not even if I lock both doors?”

asked.“That doesn’t mean anything!

exclaimed McIntyre. “The locks on thes

doors don’t mean anything to themThey’ll open them right up and wal

right in.”

“Who’s them?” I asked. “Who wil

open the doors and walk right in?”“Those white creatures!” replie

McIntyre, nearly screaming out hi

response. “We’ve seen them, me andSteve and the range rats, way out in th

desert north of here. You can’t stay here

n this barracks, Charlie! You jus

can’t.”



I could see that there was no reasonin

with McIntyre. The state he was in wa

ust too emotional. I tried to calm hi

down. I said to him, “Tell you whatAfter we eat, let’s you and I get cleaned

up and go out for a couple of beers.

Then you can tell me all about itWe’ll take the Desert Center detachmen

ruck up the highway to that bar a

Willow flats. It’s quiet there. I’ll buy th

beer. You and I can have a good timealking things over.”

McIntyre thought about it for a minute

Then he agreed. Two meals, some warmshowers, and fresh clothes later, Mi

and I laughed our way up to the bar a

Willow flats. I hid the detachment truc



behind the large willow trees out back

Mic and I went in for some beer and

nice long talk.

“Don’t worry about Desert Center,” said, as we began our second beer. “

old them that some of the screws on th

heodolite had worked loose. You, beingfrom the eastern cities, had probabl

gotten your directions turned around

They don’t really believe me, but it’l

keep you out of the brig. Just betweeou and I, though, I need to know wh

ou’re not taking the winds every day.”

“Yes, old man, you do need to knowhat,” responded McIntyre slowly.

“You know me, Mic,” I continued

“You can tell me anything, anything a

all. I’d never tell anyone. Especially, I’d



never breathe a word of what we tal

about to the sergeants and the officers

’ve always figured that one of th

privileges we have being enlisted mens being able to speak freely to on

another without worrying about officer

finding out what was said.”“I agree with you, Charlie,” answere

McIntyre. “You promise that you’l

believe me, no matter what I say?”

“My word and honor, Mic,” answered truthfully. “Why are yo

spending your time picking up practic

bombs with the range rats? That’s a loharder job than being a weather man.”

McIntyre thought for a few minutes

Then he answered, “Because it’s th



only way I can stay alive while I’m u

here. If I were ever to go back out to th

weather shack alone, one of those whit

creatures would kill me.”“What white creatures?” I asked i

surprise. “Why would they kill you?”

McIntyre, the second beer looseninhis tongue as I had expected, leane

back in his chair, and began describin

he events of the last three weeks.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Charlie.exclaimed McIntyre angrily. “You know

hey’re out there. You have to know

hey’re out there. The way you like tdrive alone, way out into the desert nort

of here. You had to have seen them, the

way you always got up at three in th

morning and drove alone way out ont



he ranges at night. They had to hav

been out there around those buildings

waiting for you. You had to have known

hey were out there when you left me uhere alone. You had to have known

hey’re out there,” he exclaimed in angr

and bitter tones.“Who? McIntyre?” I exclaimed i

surprise. “Who’s out there? I swear Mic

give you my word. I’ve never see

anything real out there. All I’ve eveseen is some mirages… some tricks tha

my eyes played on me… some sea gull

hrough the heat waves… somcoyotes… some day dreams when I wa

ired and half asleep… some lights ou

n the distance at night. I’ve never see



anything that I believed was real. Who’

out there?”

Calming somewhat, McIntyr

continued, obviously not believing me“Yah, sure. Like you never saw them ou

here in the desert, up close. Go on, li

o me just I’m not white like you. Sawhat you want. Where you get the guts t

go back out there alone, I’ll never know

But you just remember when you’re ou

here, alone, those white creatures wilcome for you just like they came for me

Just ’cause your skin is white doesn

mean anything to them because thearen’t human like we are. You and

should have stuck closer togethe

because we’re human! We’re the sam

kind! The first week I was here, I saw



hem way out in the distance, way up t

he north. Like you, at first, I didn

believe my own eyes. Then, the nex

morning, when I woke up in thbarracks, I knew I wasn’t alone so I go

out of there. I didn’t even get dresse

until after sunup. Then, after that nighwhen I saw them going into my barracks

switched barracks and I started feelin

safe again. Then there was that Tuesda

when I was down at range one.”“Yes. I remember when you were

phoning in the weather reports fro

range one,” I interrupted. “That was week ago Tuesday.”

“I had just finished taking the last ru

of the day, and I had already locked up



he weather shack,” explained McIntyre

“I was walking to my truck when, a

usual, I heard these sounds out in th

sagebrush.”“Sounds?” I asked.

“Yes, sounds,” responded McIntyre

“Don’t play dumb with me! You heardhem too when you were out there alone

Sounds! When I say sounds, I mean rea

sounds! There isn’t anything the matte

with me. I’m just as smart as you are. even got a better score than you on th

evel 5 observer’s exam. When I sa

sounds, I mean sounds! One of thesounded like a dog barking. Anothe

sounded like a horse whinnying. I picke

up a good-sized rock and started lookin

around. Out in the sagebrush, I saw



something move. It was white all over. I

was hiding behind one of the sagebrus

plants. I took aim and threw my rock a

t. It jumped back into the brush, but stilhit it pretty good. I thought it was a do

or something because as soon as I hit it

t let out a loud barking like sound. Thefrom way out in the sagebrush, I coul

hear barking and whinnying from al

over the place. All the barking scared

me so I ran to my truck and got out ohere.”

“Good thinking,” I stated thoughtfully

acitly admitting that I had heard thsounds too.

“The next morning it happened,

continued McIntyre, now becomin



visibly afraid. “I got up at 3:15 a.m

same as always, and drove out to rang

hree for the morning run. When I go

here, one of those white creatures wawaiting for me.”

“Waiting for you out at range three?”

asked in surprise.“Yes! Yes!” responded McIntyre, now

showing visible fear. “Don’t look at m

as if I’m some kind of idiot. I’m just a

smart as you! When I have my knives’m even better than you in a fight.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean anything by m

ook, Mic,” I answered quickly. “I waust surprised that anyone would dar

call you out in a fight. I thought everyon

knew what a great fighter you are.”

“I thought so too,” answered McIntyre



mellowing somewhat. “You see, when

got out to range three that morning, I pu

my headlights on bright and starte

driving around like I always do. wanted to make sure that there weren

any coyotes or snakes or white shadow

around there. Well, I no sooner broughhe truck to the edge of the range thre

buildings when I saw her.”

“Her?” I asked.

“Yes, Charlie-HER!” answeredMcIntyre. “They have male and femal

ike we do. This one was a woman. Sh

was standing at the base of the controower in plain view, waiting for me.”

“What did she look like, Mic?”

asked.



“She was one of the female whit

creatures,” answered McIntyre, now

becoming visibly emotional with fear

“She was just standing there waiting fome. She stood maybe 6 feet 3 inches tal

She was real thin. She was white al

over. She had a real chalky white skiwith blue eyes, and real transparen

blonde shoulder length hair. She seemed

o be surrounded by some type of whit

fluorescent mist or veil. It looked ahough she were standing there in a larg

patch of white shadows. She wa

holding some kind of weapon in hehands. It was long and thin, like a pencil

At first I wasn’t afraid because sh

was a woman. I thought she probabl



ust wanted to talk. I stopped the truck o

his side of the buildings. I arranged it s

hat the bright headlights shone directl

nto her eyes. She was only about 10feet in front of the truck, a little too fa

for me to use my throwing knives. So

ook one of my throwing knives in mhand and stepped out of the truck. I stoo

right by my open truck door. I figured I’d

aunt her and draw her in closer to th

ruck, so she’d be in knife throwinrange. I figured the headlights woul

keep her blinded, so all of th

advantages would be on my side. It’s rick I learned in New York City.”

“Pretty clever.” I responded.

“But I tell you, old man,” continue

McIntyre, “She wasn’t frightened in th



east bit. The bright headlights didn

bother her in the slightest. She neve

once put up her arm to shield her eyes o

blinked or anything. She could look righover at me, through the glare of the hig

beams, and focus right in on the knife

was holding in my hand. I called over ther, ‘Who are you? What do you want?’

She started floating slowly toward

me.”

“Floating Mic?” I asked.“Yes, old man!” answered McIntyre

“Those White creatures don’t walk i

hey don’t have to. Those suits they weagive them the power to float.”

I sat quietly in stunned disbelief.

“Well anyway,” continued McIntyre



“She spoke back to me in English. Sh

was angry with me. She said I ha

broken her little boy’s arm. She said

hey were going to have to take him to hospital where the air was thicker an

warmer or else it wouldn’t heal. Sh

said the hospital was a long way awayShe said it was going to take about tw

months just to get there, and it was goin

o be a very painful trip for her littl

boy.I tried to reason with her. I told he

hat I hadn’t broken any little boy’s arm

and that I liked to play with kids. Shwouldn’t hear any of it. She told me tha

was too stupid to know what I’d done

Then she told me that the America

generals had asked that I be given on



hat suit she was wearing, it just slowe

down and fell harmlessly to the ground.

Then she became totally out-rage

with me. She said that if I didn’t leavhe ranges immediately, she’d kill m

right where I stood. Old man, I wa

more terrified than I ever thought I coulget. I panicked. I jumped in my truck an

aid rubber getting out of there. But

have to tell, you, old man, she couldn

have been human.”“Why do you say that?” I asked.

“Because when I was leaving, she ra

up alongside the truck, looked me righn the eyes through the open window an

shouted at me, ‘Don’t ever come back t

his place or we’ll kill you! Do you hea

me? We’ll kill you! Do you hear me



Don’t ever come back or we’ll kil

ou!!’”

“But why does that prove that sh

wasn’t human?” I asked.“Because, old man,” responde

McIntyre, on the verge of breaking dow

from the terror of it all. “Because I hahe truck floored in second gear. She ra

along side my truck, screaming at m

hrough the open window for more tha

wo miles. I was traveling more than 3miles an hour at the time.”

I could see that Mic was having a har

ime controlling his fears and his tears. gave him a few minutes rest while I go

him another beer. When he was ready to

alk again, I continued, “I don



understand why you are helping th

range rats pick up practice bombs out i

he desert? I mean, if you’re afraid to g

out to range three alone, why didn’t youst stay in the barracks and make up th

winds like so many other weathe

observers have done?”Downing some more beer, Mi

responded, “These barracks aren’t a saf

place for me to stay alone. If those whit

creatures feel like killing me, they’ll juscome right into the barracks and get me

day or night. I talked it over with Steve

The only way I can be safe when I’m uhere, is to stay with the range rats da

and night.”

McIntyre paused for a minute, as th

extra beer found its way into hi



consciousness. Then he continued, “You

see, Steve, Doug, and Bryan think the

know of a place out in the desert wher

hey might be able to talk to the whithings. Steve and the range rats believ

hat if they take me out there with them

maybe the white creatures and I coulalk things over. Then maybe I could go

back to being the weather observer.”

“But, McIntyre,” I interjected, tryin

o hide my disbelief, “Nobody lives oun Mojave Wells valley. The valley and

he surrounding mountains are totall

desolate. Where would such a meetinake place?”

“Steve says its up in those mountain

o the northwest,” replied McIntyr



he hospital, and that nothing could b

done until they get back. Nobody know

when that will be, but Steve, Doug, an

Bryan are certain that I’ll be killed if go back out to any of the weather shacks

with or without them. When you go bac

out there, Charlie, they’ll come aroundThey always do. They’re real curious

When they come, please explain to the

hat I didn’t mean to break any littl

boy’s arm! Make sure they understandhat I’m never coming back out to thes

ranges-NEVER!-even if the Air Forc

were to court martial me! NEVER! I’EVER coming back!”

I could see that the beer was finall

getting to McIntyre. Since he’d alread



old me everything he knew, I decided i

was time to take him back to hi

barracks. I helped him to the waitin

ruck. Soon I was helping him into hibarracks, and then into his bunk. I ha

ust finished doing so when Stev

approached me. Old friend that he washe began, “It’s sure a good thing for old

Mic that you came up here, Charlie

What do you want us to do with hi

omorrow?”“Keep him with you like you hav

been, until the noon meal,” I responded

“That’ll give me time to make up twsets of corrected weather reports for th

ime he’s been up here. I’ll bring in hi

hings from the range three shack afte

omorrow’s 12:30 run. I’ll send one se



of correct reports down to Desert Cente

with him. He’ll need it to cover his bu

n the Major’s office. I’ll leave th

Desert Center detachment truck parkeout in front of this barracks. He ca

drive it back to Desert Center tomorrow

afternoon. I’ll switch over to driving thMojave Wells weather truck.”

“Right,” answered Steve.

I continued, “I really appreciate yo

saving Mic’s life like you did, Steve’m certain that Mic appreciates it too.

was just wondering, Mic was sayin

something about you talking to somwhite people way up in the mountains?”

Steve thought for a minute before h

responded. Then he answere



pleasantly, “You really don’t want me to

answer that question, Charlie, not th

way you like to drive around b

ourself, alone, way out in the desertAll I’m going to say is that you don

have to worry because no white perso

would ever mistake you for McIntyre.”I was too surprised to respond. I stoo

here wondering what to say next. Stev

continued in a friendly tone, “Oh,

meant to tell you Charlie, while yowere out with Old Mic, the boys and

rearranged this barracks and th

barracks next door. We moved some ohe boys next door. Then we brough

over your things from that barrack

down on the flight line where you wer

going to stay. The bed and locker dow



here at the end are yours.”

Then Steve, standing in front of me

hought for a minute, and stated i

brotherly tones, “I know you, CharlieYou aren’t afraid of anything, even the

hings you should be afraid of. Jus

remember, anytime you want me to gowith you, out to the ranges on tha

morning run, or maybe make up som

winds for you here in the barracks like

did for all those other Desert Centeguys, you just wake me up. I’m good a

making up those morning winds. You

and I, we’re closer than any brothersand that’s what brothers are for.”

I finished McIntyre’s remaining fou

weeks of TDY and returned to Deser



Center.



Paperback Hero

. . . He has told usthat you always have pleasant memories

of us,

and that you long to see us,

just as we, also, long to see you.

1 Thessalonians 3:6

It seemed out of place, but suddenlhe phone rang. Working in the Deser

Center weather station at night wa

always lonely, but this was a rainChristmas Eve. I had returned from TDY

at Mojave Wells. Loneliness had long

since taken over my thoughts. It seeme



hat no one cared about me and that onl

Santa would have questions about th

weather.

At first I wasn’t sure the phone waactually ringing for me, so I wasn’t goin

o answer it. Being single and a lon

way from home, I had also agreed twork a double shift. This allowe

everyone else to spend this Christma

Eve with their families. Extra work wa

hardly a problem for a man as lonely as was on that rainy, stormy winte

evening.

The hours had seemed to drag on, busomething unusual had already happene

o me earlier this lonely evening. Alon

about sundown, I had been standing i

quiet silence, looking out the weathe



station window into the rain, the col

winds, the drizzle, and the darkening fo

as the dreariness of this stormy nigh

ime settled over the world in which ived. Slowly, I had begun to feel a

hough my two guardian angels wer

standing near me, in sympathy with moneliness. It felt as though one wa

standing next to the doorway behind me

and one was standing just behind me, ou

of sight on my left. It felt as though thewanted to know what I planned to do t

celebrate Christmas as I worked thes

wo night shifts. I thought about it for minute or so, and I decided that for m

Christmas celebration, along about 2:3

A.M., I would walk down to the othe



end of this deserted building. I planne

o walk down to where the vendin

machines and the rest rooms wer

ocated. That section of the building wahe Base Operations section. It wa

completely shut down, the doors wer

ocked, and lights were turned off on thiChristmas Eve. There, in the dar

emptiness of this silent Sunday night,

planned to have my Christma

celebration alone, by buying from thvending machines, a cup of coffee and

candy bar. I had it all planned quit

well. There, as I held the coffee and thcandy bar in my hands, I planned to say

short prayer of thanks, and to ask God t

be with me in the future as he had s

mercifully been with me in the past. A



soon as I had made this decision, it fe

ike my two guardian angels were happy

Then it felt as though the two of them lef

me alone, while they themselves hagone somewhere, out into the storm.

Then, earlier that evening, it felt a

hough one of my angels had returned foa few minutes. It felt as though h

wanted something very simple from me

Following where my feelings lead me,

felt as though he was leading me as walked outside into the cold rain. Fo

almost a half hour, feeling as though h

were standing beside me, pointinowards the base of the clouds northeas

of me, I stood in the cold dark storm

Afraid to offend God or my guardia



angels on this Christmas evening,

obliged my unseen, unheard friend b

very carefully studying the base of th

clouds northeast of me. After I hadobserved one storm pass and anothe

storm begin, the angel seemed to b

happy.The half hour over, and me drippin

wet, I had returned inside to warm u

and dry off. I felt as though my guardia

angel, however, had gone off, once agaiout into the storm.

Now, hours later, much as I tried to

gnore it, the phone kept on ringing. Iwas already fifteen minutes to midnight

almost time for another weather repor

and still more than two hours to m

planned Christmas celebration. I pu



down the paperback history book I wa

reading. It was captivating. It brought t

ife the first crusade and the excitin

hero Bohemond, who had struggleagainst all odds to get his followers int

he city of Jerusalem.

After many rings, however, I decidedhat, whoever it was, I probably neede

o talk to them more than they needed t

alk to me, so, putting down m

paperback, I picked up the phone.The night would be long, I decided.

had signed in at 4:00 p.m. and my doubl

shift as the duty weather observer woulast until 8:00 in the morning. Maybe,

hought, my guardian angels had sen

someone to cheer me up.



“Desert Center weather station,”

said. “Charlie speaking.”

“Desert Center, Desert Center, are yo

here?” screamed the voice on the otheend of the line.

I recognized the caller as one of m

civilian friends. It was one of the dutweather observers from Palm Meadow

Field, the civilian airport for the city o

Palm Meadows. The city was 20 mile

or so, down the valley. I respondedhappily, “Dan, how nice of you to call.”

“Charlie, thank God it’s you,” h

screamed.“Gee, I wish more beautiful youn

women would think like you do.”

aughed.



Without responding to my humor h

continued screaming, “Charlie, we’re i

big trouble down here.”

“How can that be?” I asked“According to your weather report

Palm Meadows Field has been close

since before 6:00 this evening. I wasurprised that you were open at al

because I’ve seen big thunderstorm

down where you are since early thi

morning. I myself, closed Desert Centefor the night when I came on duty a

four.”

“The idiot before me made the mistakof opening the airport for a half hou

before I came on. Two 707 jetliner

fully loaded with passengers took of



from Los Angeles International and

headed here. Then the thunderstorms go

worse and when they got here, he close

he airport so they couldn’t land.”“Why didn’t they just go on t

Phoenix?” I asked.

“Those places are all closed due tbad weather, too. Then all the airports i

California and all over the west closed

Then the idiot kept telling the tower tha

he storms would go away and kept thplanes circling. Now they’re both dow

o less that 30 minutes of fuel. They’r

going to have to crash up where yoare.”

“Crash them up where I am?” I dead

panned, not really sure I had heard hi

right.



“Yes,” he screamed, “There’s no

other choice. We’re getting hail the siz

of oranges down here and driving rai

and lightning and the clouds are layinright down on the runway. They can’t do

t here. They’ll all be killed. My weathe

radar shows nothing but constanhunderstorms located right over all o

our runways, too. I called up you

ower. They tell me the storms are so

bad up where you are that the toweoperators can’t even see the ground

There’s no choice! There’s absolutely

no other choice! Your last weathereport said that any safe landing a

Desert Center would be impossible

They have to crash on the highway, up



where you are!

“Now let me tell you what my pla

s,” he continued. “I’ve asked the stat

police to block off that section ohighway that goes right past the entranc

o Desert Center. They’re doing it righ

now. The highway has two sets of twoanes. They’re both real straight. There’

room in there to crash two airplanes. To

do it, I need your help.

The base has two entrances. I’valready told all of your fire engines, al

of your ambulances, and all of m

emergency vehicles to go to those twgates. The television camera crews ar

already out there. If you can get thos

planes to crash real close to those tw

base gates, it will be easy for th



ambulances to get the survivors into th

base hospital. It’s our only hope.”

“I must not have heard you right,”

responded slowly. “I thought you saidhat two planes with lots of people o

board, are going to crash out on th

highway.”“Yes! Yes!” he screamed. “Yes! Right

out in front of where you are! They’r

ready to crash wherever you tell them to

The stewardesses have already drillehe passengers on the crash procedures

Everyone on board is already belted i

and practiced bending over in crasposition. All we need is your help to

pick out the best place to crash, and t

ime the impacts properly!”



“Oh, there must be a better way.”

responded. Crashing airplanes seeme

ike such a waste of a good Christma

Eve. “The pavement out there is onlhin asphalt. It’ll never hold the weigh

of a 707. The landing gear will collaps

and all of the people will be killedThere are telephone poles and hig

voltage electrical wires out there. Such

anding attempt would be a terribl

disaster. How much fuel do they haveft?”

“One has 35 minutes and the other i

down to 20.” he said in a panic. “Thehave to crash! There isn’t time fo

anything else! They’ve both been u

here circling for six or seven hours!”



“Where are the airplanes now?”

asked.

“They’re circling twenty miles up th

valley, just west of Desert Center, a10,000 feet. They’re waiting for you t

ell them where to crash.”

“That won’t be necessary,” I replied“Have Palm Meadows tower pass the

off to Desert Center tower. Tell Deser

Center tower to give me exactly on

minute to transmit my aircraft emergencmessage so the weather center at Tinker

Oklahoma, knows I won’t be sendin

any weather reports for a while. Thehave Desert Center tower call me on th

emergency telephone. I’ll need the towe

o relay instructions to the pilots. Tel



he pilots I can bring them in here.”

“Right!” he shouted. “I’ll do it!” As h

abruptly hung up the phone, I suddenl

realized that the Palm Meadowobserver still thought my plan was t

crash the planes on the highway

Consequently, the highway remainedblocked and all of the emergenc

vehicles stayed parked at the two gates.

I stepped into my teletype room, an

yped up a simple procedure message fohe weather center at Tinker AFB

Oklahoma. It read, “DESERT CENTER

AFB. GOING OFF LINE FOR NEXTTWO HOURS. BASE CLOSED DUE

TO CONSTANT HEAVY

THUNDERSTORMS.

VISIBILITY ZERO. CEILING ZERO



CLOUDS ON RUNWAY. RAIN

HEAVY. SOME HAIL. WIND 210

DEGREES, GUSTS TO 65 MPH

AIRCRAFT EMERGENCY INPROGRESS. TWO 707S TRAPPED

ALOFT, FUEL SHORT, MUST LAND

AT DESERT CENTER. WILLRETURN ON LINE WHEN

EMERGENCY IS OVER.”

One minute later, my emergenc

procedure message was just coming ouof the teletype transmitter when th

emergency phone from the tower bega

ringing off the hook. I answered thphone. I turned off the lights in th

weather station, and opened one of th

windows to the outside. I needed m



north. The position also let me loo

hrough the open window at the dimly l

dials on my weather instruments. It als

et me look at the clouds from almost thsame position that I felt the angel ha

asked me to earlier this evening.

“Tell the plane with the least fuel tohead up the valley to the northeast. Tel

him to stay on the navigation beam so h

knows where he is.” I answered calmly

Then I recomputed the altimeter settingnformed the operator, and waited whil

Desert Center tower relayed th

nstructions to the 707.“You know the mountain straight north

of the runway?” I continued. “As yo

know it is northeast of me. It has a re



beacon light on top of it and a rada

ransponder so he can see it on his rada

screen. Tell him when he is thre

minutes north of the beacon light to tureast and then to come back south

heading straight towards the field. I wan

him to come back exactly over thabeacon light. Tell him to come back a

an altitude not more than 50 feet highe

han the beacon. Tell him, when he’

over the beacon he should have his flapfully down, his cabin lights off, hi

anding gear down, and his landing light

urned on. That way I’ll be able to sehim, and I’ll talk him in from there.”

I waited as the instructions were tol

o the pilot.

“He’s heading up the valley,”



responded the tower. “He wants to know

where on the highway you want him t

crash.”

“Oh, no! No!” I shouted into thelephone. “Tell him he’s not going to

crash! Tell him I intend to have him land

at Desert Center. Tell them that I intendo have both of them land safely a

Desert Center!”

I waited for a few seconds as th

operator spoke to both pilots. After aagonizingly long wait, the towe

operator came back on the line.

“None of us think that’s possibleThey’re both terrified at the prospect o

crashing out in the desert at night in th

rain. Since they have to crash, they’r



asking to crash out on the highway wher

hey can at least get some help. Th

pilots need a thousand feet of altitud

and one mile of visibility in order tand. I can’t even see the ground fro

he tower windows. They can’t possibl

find the runway, let alone land safely”returned the tower operator in matter o

fact tones.

“I know all that.” I replied calmly

“But I can talk them in. The winds havbeen keeping the thunderstorms awa

from the mountains to the north. It’

storming in the valleys but it’s onlcloudy and rainy in the mountains.

You’re three miles down at the othe

end of the runway. The thunderstorm

have been passing over your end an



over the middle, but they haven’t bee

passing directly over my end. It’s jus

raining hard up here.

Up on this end, the thunderstorms havbeen lasting about 45 minutes as the

pass across the field. Then we’ve ha

breaks of 15 to 20 minutes. The stor we’re having now is just finishing. I’

expecting to have smooth steady wind

coming up the valley right towards tha

beacon light for the next 20 minutes. Iwas that way between the last tw

storms. Well, when that happens, i

opens holes in the clouds around thmountain and lifts the low clouds off th

desert up here at my end of the field

Last time it happened, I could see the re



beacon light on the mountain. Then

clear field of view opened between th

base of the mountain and my end of th

runway. Palm Meadows puts out somuch light that the pilots should be abl

o see those holes in the clouds an

follow the light right down to my end ohe runway.”

“Roger.” responded the tower.

I waited while the tower and the pilot

alked it over.“They’re both willing to try becaus

ou say it’s possible.” responded th

ower. “I told them who you were andhow you saved those six F105 pilots las

spring.”

Then after a short pause, the operato

continued, “Remember, I don’t hav



anyone to help you. I’m alone here in th

ower and I can’t see anything whateve

out the windows.”

Then after another short pause, hcontinued, “Remember too, that bot

707s are fully loaded with passengers

and both pilots said they would forgivou if you’re wrong.”

I waited quietly for a few seconds, a

he enormity of what he had said sunk in

Then, shrugging off the operator’words, I continued with my instructions

“Tell the first pilot that when he ha

completed his turn to the south, to havhis copilot and all of the passenger

ooking out the windows, straight down

n case the holes open to the left or righ



of him.

Tell him the base of the mountain i

100 feet higher than the field, and th

desert slopes gradually to the end of thrunway. Tell him that as soon as h

passes over the red beacon, even if h

doesn’t see the lights of Palm Meadowso descend smoothly and quickly to a

altitude of 150 feet, and I’ll be out her

ooking for him.”

“Roger,” responded the tower. “I wilas soon as I am able. The hea

stewardess is leading the passengers i

he Lord’s Prayer and the pilot didn’want to be disturbed. I guess things ar

pretty tense on board.”

After a significant pause, the operato

continued, “The first pilot is proceedin



up the valley now. The second is waitin

and circling. The first pilot i

encountering heavy turbulence, heav

rain and soft hail. He’ll be at the turninpoint in 3 minutes.”

The minutes seemed to pass lik

hours. As I waited, I carefully studiedhe clouds to the north, just as I had don

during the previous break between th

storms. Quietly, I prayed that the hole

would reopen. Then, in the distance, great sense of relief came over me as th

red beacon marking the top of th

mountain became visible in the distance“Tell him the storm has just ended

where I am.” I spoke carefully into th

emergency phone. “Tell him that th



approach path has opened and that I ca

see the red beacon light.”

A short pause ensued. “He has made i

o the turning point. One minute after hurned east, he broke out of the storm.

Then a short pause followed. “He’

urning south now. His gear is down andhis landing lights are on”. Anothe

pause. “He’s approaching the red

beacon.”

I listened while standing in the lighrain. I studied the clouds in the distance

rying to catch some glimpse of th

plane’s landing lights. Suddenly, jusover the peak of the mountain and its re

beacon, a speck of white ligh

momentarily appeared.

“I see him.” I spoke into th



mouthpiece.

“He sees the lights!” returned th

operator. “He sees the lights! When h

went over the beacon his copilot got glimpse of the lights of Palm Meadows

He is back in the clouds and beginnin

his descent! Do you see him?”“I see him!” I said, even though he ha

gone back into the clouds. “Tell him to

continue his descent.”

Looking down by the base of thclouds, I tried to estimate where h

would break out of the clouds. Minute

passed. There was no break out. Thclouds were obviously lower than I ha

expected, but the clearance existed if th

pilot could find it in time.



“What’s his altitude?” I asked.

A short pause. “He’s leveled off a

150 feet.”

“Tell him to come fifty feet lower.” said, scanning the clouds for any sign o

his landing lights.

Another short pause. “He’s down to100 feet. He can’t see anything and he’

panicky. Do you see him?” responded

he tower.

Suddenly, in the distance, through ragged group of clouds, I got anothe

momentary glimpse of another whit

flash.“Tell him I see him.” I responded

He’s still at least five minutes from th

runway. Tell him the desert is falling



away from him and to continue th

descent to 70 feet.”

Another long pause. In the distance,

could see the clouds were lifting slowlout over the desert.

“He’s at 70 feet and he’s still in the

clouds. Are you sure you see him?asked the tower.

“Yes,” I responded, lying a bit. I had

been timing his approach. I calculate

hat by now the desert underneath hiwould be no more than 20 feet above th

runway.

“Tell him to come down another 10feet.” I spoke carefully into the phone.

A short pause. “He’s now at 60 feet.”

responded the tower.

Still no lights could be seen. “Bring i



down another 10 feet.” I said.

Another short pause. Then, suddenl

n the distance I could see his landin

ights just inside the base of the cloud.“He’s at 50 feet. His copilot thinks h

got a glimpse of the runway lights,

stated the operator.“I see him clearly.” I shouted into th

phone. “He’s no more than three minute

off the end of the runway. Bring him

down slowly another 20 feet.”A short pause followed. Then, in th

distance, appeared before my eyes, on

of the most unforgettable visions of mife. The 707 began slowly appearin

out of the base of the clouds. Withou

warning, the operator began shoutin



nto the telephone, “He sees the field

He sees the field!”

Then the pilot immediately an

ntentionally dropped the plane until thanding gear was no more than three fee

above the sagebrush. He brought the 70

across that last minute of desert, flapfully extended, landing gear down

anding lights on, vectoring straight fo

he end of the runway. The plane raised

a little bit to clear the runway lights. was struck by how much the plan

resembled a bride coming down th

aisle for a wedding. The plane seemealmost to be floating in the gentle wind

The storm, itself, seemed to retrea

before the pilot’s obvious determinatio

o bring his plane to the end of th



runway.

“Tell him he’s going to make it!”

spoke into the telephone.

“I don’t think I have to,” respondehe operator. “That’s all He’s been

screaming into his microphone for th

ast minute.”“As soon as he lands, start the nex

plane up the valley.” I said.

“Roger,” responded the tower.

There was nothing left for me to dbut stand quietly in the rain and watch

as the 707 floated slowly over the end o

he runway and touched down. The planwas lined up perfectly with the runway.

could hear the pilot break the engine

mmediately as he touched down.



After the plane had rolled only

housand feet down the runway, it rolled

nto the heavy rain that obscured th

remainder of the runway and was losfrom my field of view. I waited a coupl

of minutes and I asked the towe

operator, “Was the pilot able to stopO.K.?”

“I think so,” responded the operator

“I could hear the passengers yelling an

shouting a minute ago. They were alpretty happy. The plane has cleared th

runway. It is parked down at the end o

he field on the taxiway by a hanger. Hiengines shut down suddenly while th

plane was still on the taxiway. The pilo

reported that he was out of fuel. He sai



he needed the help of the ground crew t

move the airplane any further. I told him

’d get them there as soon as I could, bu

t would be a while. I finally found onnstrument technician on duty down i

one of the hangers. I’ve sent him out i

he pickup truck to check things out, anhe reports that everything looks O.K.

The rest of the ground crew is stil

parked out by the Desert Center fron

gate waiting for him to crash. They donknow that he’s already landed. Right a

he minute he’s not answering his radio

anymore. He seemed awfully shook upso I guess he’s helping the stewardes

ead the passengers in a prayer o

hanks.” concluded the operator.

“Yes”, I responded, “I suppose he ha



a lot to be thankful for.” Then, lookin

down the valley towards the next stor

which was approaching sooner than

had expected, I continued, “We betteget that second plane in. We probably

don’t have 10 minutes before the nex

storm hits. Ask him where he is and howmuch fuel he has left.”

A short pause ensued. Then th

operator responded, “He’s heading up

he valley. He says his fuel is down toess than 15 minutes. He’s not sure how

much fuel he has because he’s neve

seen his gauges this low.”Privately, I began worrying about th

next thunderstorm. I could see that th

plane could still make it in safely.



However, between the onrushin

hunderstorm and the second 707’s shor

fuel supply, I could also see there wa

ittle time to waste.“Make sure he knows the first 70

made it,” I spoke into the phone. “An

make sure he knows the holes are stilhere over the mountain.”

“Roger,” responded the tower.

Thinking for a minute and performin

some mental calculations, I spoke inthe telephone, “Tell him to travel onl

one minute north of the beacon ligh

before turning.” I could hear my othephone ringing, but this was certainly n

ime to answer it.

A short pause followed.



“Roger.” returned the operator. Then

he continued, “The pilot is terrified

He’s more than halfway up the valley

He reports that he is encountering thworst turbulence he’s ever seen. Th

plane is being buffeted at least 50 feet u

and down by the storm. He reports thahe plane has encountered heavy larg

hail the size of golf balls. He believe

his engines have been damaged and h

reports that his plane can’t make it in tDesert Center. He’s requesting

permission to return down the valley an

crash land on the highway while he castill get there.”

I thought for a few seconds. Then

responded.



“Tell him ‘no’ on the return. Tell him

o continue northeast up the valley. Tel

him to adjust his course as far to the eas

as the navigational beam allowsThere’ll be less hail over there. Tell him

hat hail at night always looks twice a

arge as it really is. Tell him his enginehave to be OK because if the hail he’

encountering were large enough t

damage his engines, his windshiel

would already have been shattered. Telhim he knows his 707 can take th

urbulence. Tell him anything you hav

o, but keep him coming towards thurning point.”

“Roger,” responded the operator afte

a long pause. “He’s continuing up th



valley. He reports the hail has lightened

up, but the turbulence is continuing. He’

become absolutely panicky. It’s all h

and his copilot can do to hold the planon course. He’s certain that he can’

make it. He’s begging for permission to

return down the valley to crash on thhighway. He says it’s the only chance

we have to get anyone off the airplan

alive.”

“Tell him no on the return,” responded, again. “Tell him he know

well that his 707 can take the turbulence

Tell him to keep his mind on the redbeacon. The holes over the mountain ar

still there and all he needs to do is to ge

his plane over that red beacon. I can tal

him down to the Desert Center runway



from there.”

After a long pause, the tower operato

got back online. “Roger. He’s staying on

course up the valley. He’s certain thahey’re all going to die I guess, becaus

he’s doing an awful lot of praying into

he microphone.”“Tell him to leave his landing gear up

until he’s left the storm. I don’t want hi

anding lights getting iced over.”

continued. “Tell him he can think whahe wants but I’m certain that he can mak

t safely into Desert Center.”

“Roger.” Then after a very long pause“His copilot reports the hail has ended

The turbulence ended suddenly. He’

starting his turn. He’s putting the gea



down now and turning on the landin

ights. They’ll be over the red beacon i

one minute.”

“I’m watching,” I responded. “I castill see the beacon.”

With a light rain falling, I strained my

eyes to see the red beacon in thdistance. The beacon was already fuzz

red and it was obvious that the cloud

were closing back in. Suddenly the re

beacon appeared to blink from red twhite, then back to red.

“Tell him I see him.” I said into th

phone. “Make sure he has begun hidescent.”

“Roger. He reports that he has passed

over the beacon and is descending t

150 feet. “Then a pause ensued. “He ha



eveled off at 150 feet.”

“Tell him to descend to 90 feet.”

continued, refusing to admit that I ha

ost sight of him in the clouds.“Roger.”

Then in the distance, a white ligh

started blinking along the base of a set oragged clouds. “Tell him I see him.”

said. “Tell him to come down another 1

feet. Tell him that when he sees th

runway lights, he’s to stay as high apossible and not to come lower than 5

feet above the desert.”

“Roger,” responded the tower. Then ashort pause ensued. In the distance th

white light became clearer and was now

blinking at a slower rate. Then th



operator continued, “He seems to b

panicky. He’s in heavy rain and he can’

see anything out the windows. He i

certain that the plane is damaged and thapieces of metal are falling off th

starboard side of the plane.”

“Tell him I can see his plane clearly.” responded, hoping the operato

wouldn’t notice that I was lying. “Tel

him his plane is in perfect condition

Tell him the only thing falling off hiplane is ice.”

Another short pause ensued. “Roger,

responded the tower.“Tell him there’s only one more rain

cloud in front of him. He’ll be through

n another minute. Then he’ll be able t

bring his plane down and land.” I said.



“Roger.” There was another shor

pause. “He seems to have calmed dow

some.”

In the distance, I watched as thblinking white light continued its gradua

descent towards a small rain cloud. Th

distant light seemed so fragile. I coulsee that the clouds had lowered. Th

approach corridor was rapidly closing

The red beacon light was alread

completely obscured by clouds. I alswatched as the next thunderstorm rushe

owards the field from the southwest.

could see that it was going to be verclose so I started paying careful attentio

o my wind recorder. It showed a histor

of the winds for the last 6 hours. I coul



see that the period of steady winds wa

almost over and that the air wa

becoming increasingly unstable. In th

distance, the white blinking light enterehe cloud. I started counting the seconds

located a hole in the base of the cloud

and began studying it intently, waitinfor the plane to pass by it. After a lon

agonizing wait, a white ligh

momentarily appeared in the hole.

“I see him.” I spoke into the telephone“Tell him to come down another 20 feet

Then descend gradually until the runwa

ights appear, and then hold thaaltitude.”

“Roger,” responded the tower. Then a

short pause followed. “He sees th

runway!” shouted the operator. “He say



t’s the first thing he’s seen since he

passed over the beacon! His navigato

says he’s just three minutes north of th

end of the runway!”Towards the southwest, I could se

he thunderstorm already drifting ont

he airbase. Studying the wind recorder continued, “Tell him he’s going to make

t safely. There’s a wind gust coming in

about one minute. Tell him to be read

for it. I expect the gust to be from 21degrees at 65 mph.”

“Roger.” Then, there was anothe

short pause.“Tell him to have his navigator tim

t,” I continued. “I expect it to last n

more than 30 seconds. When it finishes



he winds will return to their presen

heading of 180 degrees at 7 mph. A

soon as the wind gust finishes, I expec

his plane to drop suddenly about 30 feetTell him to be ready for it.

“Roger.” There was another shor

pause.“Tell him that as soon as the gust ends

o land as quickly as possible. Have hi

drop onto the runway as soon as he i

over it.” I stated slowly.The operator, with dry humor

responded, “I think that’s what he’

rying to do.”I couldn’t help but laugh at myself

The operator’s statement certainl

seemed to be correct. Watching the wind

meter carefully, I continued, “Tell him to



get ready-the gust is starting-now.”

In the distance, the plane wobble

suddenly, and jumped several fee

higher. Then it slowly started returninback down to 50 feet. I watched th

wind recorder carefully. “Tell him th

gust is starting to end-get ready-now!” stated.

The plane by now was within on

minute of the end of the runway. As

watched, the wind gust ended. As it didso, the plane suddenly fell more than 3

feet toward the ground. When the pilo

regained control, the landing gear waess than five feet above the sagebrush.

“Beautiful!” I exclaimed. “Tell him

he winds will remain steady lon



enough for him to land!”

“Roger.”

I watched as the plane strained t

reach the end of the runway. With theflaps down and the landing gear down,

could see the pilot was straining to pul

he plane up the few extra feet needed tclear the landing lights at the end of th

runway. With the next thunderstorm now

rushing onto the far end of the field, th

707 drifted slowly over the runwaights, lined up perfectly over th

centerline, and dropped onto the nea

end of the runway. The nose gear hadhardly touched down when the full fur

of the next thunderstorm struck. I coul

see the plane roll into the rain an

disappear from view.



I waited several minutes. I knew th

ower operator would be busy while th

plane landed. Then I asked into th

phone, “Did he make it safely?”At first there was no response. Afte

an unusually long time, the operato

responded, “Yes. He’s parkedsomewhere down by the barrier at th

end of the runway. Everything seems to

be O.K. I was talking to the hea

stewardess. She said the engines quust as the nose wheel touched down an

he pilot had to be extra careful when h

applied the brakes. She said the planrolled to a normal stop.

She and the copilot then opened th

main cabin exit door so they could ge



some fresh air and see where they were

She said it was hard to get it ope

because all the people were cheerin

and shouting, and everyone was trying thelp them.

She says that she doesn’t know wher

he plane is on the runway. She says alof the wheels are on the pavement an

hat the plane has not suffered an

damage. She also told me that none o

he passengers were injured.She said that when she looks out of th

cockpit windows, all she can see is

big red and white thing that can’t bmore than 10 feet away. That must be th

barrier at the end of the runway.”

“I’m surprised that you were talking t

he stewardess,” I said. “Where is th



pilot?”

According to the stewardess, as soo

as they got the plane stopped, she and th

copilot went to check the passengersThey saw that everyone was O.K. The

hey opened the door and looked out, an

saw that the plane was completely safand O.K. Then the copilot got real shaky

The pilot, she said, came back into th

cabin and quieted everyone down. The

he led them all in reciting the Lord’Prayer and in reciting a prayer of thanks

He prayed that God always helped yo

he way that you had helped them.”“That’s nice to know,” I said, no

quite sure how to react. “Why is th

stewardess handling the radio?”



“I understood her to say that the pilo

s back in one of the lavatories. Sh

hinks he’s crying so she doesn’t want to

disturb him. She says the navigator ioutside, down on the ground walkin

around in the rain. I guess he neede

some fresh air. When the instrumenechnician arrived in the pickup truck

he navigator was on his hands and knee

n the sagebrush, vomiting from th

stress. I guess he’s going to be O.K. Thcopilot is just standing back in th

galley. She thinks he wants to be alon

oo. She said that someone needed thandle the radio, so she’s doing it.”

“Well,” I said, “This thunderstorm

ooks like a big one. It’ll probably b



another 45 minutes before it’s over

Then you’ll probably have 20 minutes o

gentle winds and light rain. I guess tha

ou have everything under control so I’lgo back to my work now.

Incidentally, I see that the two tal

passenger-unloading ramps are sitting uhere by the base operations building

Everything is shutdown for the night, bu

ou might want the ground crew to tow

he airplanes up here, anyway, instead oowing them down to the hangers. It’ll b

much easier to unload the passengers

t’ll make it easy for the buses froPalm Meadows Field to find them. Th

buses can just pull into the parking lot o

he weather station. I’ll get the key fro

he base ops office, unlock the doors



and turn on all the lights. Everything i

nice and warm up here. The passenger

will be able to get in out of the rain. I

any of the passengers need to use threstroom, they’re available, too.”

“That sounds like a good idea,

responded the tower operator. “I stilcan’t raise anyone down at the front gate

asked the instrument technician to tak

he pickup truck down and get the groun

crew.”“Sounds like a good idea,”

responded. “I’ll hang up the phone now

and get the lights turned on in the basops building. Be sure to call me if yo

need anything.”

“Roger,” responded the operator



Then, after a long pause, he continued

“None of us know what to say or how t

hank you, Charlie. None of us know

how, but thanks.”“Oh, think nothing of it,” I answered

“I just did what the Air Force trained m

o do.”I went back inside, hung up the phone

closed the window, and turned on th

ights in the weather station. I unlocke

he doors in base ops, turned up thhermostat, and turned on all of the bas

ops lights. Then I transmitted my missin

weather reports to Tinker AFBOklahoma, sent another procedur

message to Tinker. I informed them tha

he emergency was over and the plane

were safely on the runway. It was



simple procedure message. It read,

“DESERT CENTER AFB COMING

BACK ON LINE. AIRCRAFT

EMERGENCY HAS ENDED. TWO707 JETLINERS LANDED SAFELY IN

HEAVY RAIN. DESERT CENTER

AFB REMAINS CLOSED. CEILINGZERO. VISIBILITY ZERO. CLOUDS

ON RUNWAY. RAIN HEAVY. SOME

HAIL. HEAVY THUNDERSTORMS IN

PROGRESS. RETURNING TOORMAL REPORTING SCHEDULE.”

Then, I went back to reading my book

still had another seven lonely hours twork.

Several minutes passed. Once agai

he regular weather station phone rang.



“Desert Center weather station,”

responded. “Charlie speaking.”

“Charlie, finally you’re there. I’v

been trying to reach you for the last halhour.” The voice on the other end

shouted urgently. I immediatel

recognized the voice of one of the otheDesert Center USAF weather observers

Dwight. He and I were the closest o

friends. “About 40 minutes ago, my wif

was changing channels on the TV ansaw a TV news break. The TV news i

saying that two 707 jetliners are going t

crash on the highway right out in front oou! I could hardly believe it! The thre

ocal stations are out there covering th

preparations live! They’ve got more tha



10 miles of highway blocked off

They’ve already got a big section out i

front of the base covered with foam!

You’re going to need some help, guyYou got a great big emergency on you

hands! I’ll be right out to help you bu

ou know I live way across the valleyt’ll take me at least an hour to get ou

here! I called Sergeant Walters and told

him I was coming, but he said that whe

he tried to get out there to help you, thState Police turned him back. They’r

not letting anyone through excep

ambulances and fire trucks! You’ll haveo tell them I’m coming or they’ll neve

et me through!”

“Oh, that’s really nice of you Dwight,

replied, “but there’s no emergenc



going on out here. The two 707s lande

and they’re out here parked on th

runway waiting for the ground crew

You have a merry Christmas with youfamily.”

“But you can’t be right!” responde

Dwight. “Are you calling the Statpolice, the fire department, and all of th

elevision stations wrong? Th

elevision stations are carrying th

emergency live! I’m looking at the Tright now. It’s right in front of me! They

ust finished talking to the Pal

Meadows Field weather observerThey’re waiting for two fully loade

707 airliners to crash right out in front o

he Desert Center gates! The State Polic



have evacuated those three big apartmen

houses just down the street in case th

airplanes hit them. They have more tha

500 people standing out here in the rainThey’re telling the people that ther

can’t be any other choice, Charlie! Th

whole valley has had nothing buconstant thunderstorms all day! I tel

ou, Charlie, what you have on you

hands is the biggest emergency I’ve eve

seen! You’re going to need my helpCharlie!”

“I’m telling you the truth, Dwight,”

responded, “I was just talking to thDesert Center tower. There are no

etliners preparing to crash out on th

highway. There were two jetliners up

here a little while ago, but they ha



good pilots. They both landed here a

Desert Center. You can call the Deser

Center tower if you don’t believe me.”

“Wait a minute,” Dwight interrupted“The TV news has just reported that th

Desert Center ground crew is pulling ou

o go somewhere, but nobody seems tknow where. One of the camera crew

has left to follow them. They thin

maybe one of the planes crashed up th

valley. What’s going on, Charlie?”“Well, as I’ve been saying Dwight

here aren’t any jetliners flying in the sk

or crashing on the highway which goeby the base. The only airplane

anywhere around are two 707s full

oaded with passengers, parked out o



he Desert Center runway. The ground

crew is probably coming back to tow th

planes up here to base ops. Th

passengers are still on board and wneed to let them get off and bus the

downtown. Everyone else can go hom

and enjoy Christmas.I tell you what, Dwight, why don’t

ust give you the phone number of th

Desert Center tower. You can call them

up and you’ll see that I’m telling you thruth.” I stated. “There really isn’t an

emergency going on out here.”

“Well, OK,” responded Dwight“Give me the number and I’ll phon

Desert Center tower. But I’m telling you

Charlie, there’s a big emergency goin

on out there. You’re going to need all o



us to help you.”

“I really appreciate your offer

Dwight.” I responded. “It’s really nic

of you but don’t worry. Just phone thower and put your mind at ease. The

ou and your family have a really nic

Christmas together. Your wife and yourwo sons must be looking forward t

spending Christmas with you. Here, th

number to the tower is 255-2525. I’l

alk to you later, Dwight.”“Thanks for the number, Charlie.” sai

Dwight. “But if you’re wrong, I’ll com

right out and help you.”“I know you would, Dwight. But

really, there’s no need. There’s really

nothing going on out here.”



station area. It seemed like such an eas

ask. Soon the plane was parked on th

ramp just outside the base ops building

t seemed as if the passengers on boarhe 707 had finally reached th

Jerusalem that they had been seeking fo

so long.Having parked the first 707, th

ractor unhooked and went for th

second 707. It was still sitting out on th

runway. As the unloading ramp wapushed up to the 707’s forward

doorway, the camera truck and crew

from the TV news rushed up out frontSkidding to a stop, the camera crew

went running out in the rain towards th

parking ramp. The camera lights were o

and the cameras had just begun rollin



when the door to the 707 was opened.

watched as the first passengers bega

unloading. One of the first passengers t

come down the ramp was an elderlwoman heavily clad in a fur coat. It wa

still raining lightly. It took the lady

ong time to make it down the ramp. Thcamera crew asked her what the landin

had been like. She seemed to be having

hard time speaking coherently. She wa

saying, “The flight was terrible. Thflight was terrible. Who was he? Wh

was the one who saved us? Jesus mus

have spoken to him. He couldnpossibly have seen our plane in th

storm. You have to find him. The captain

said we had to thank him.”



I turned to my phone. It was ringin

again. “Desert Center AFB,” I said. I

was Master Sergeant Walters, the nex

step up in my chain of command. Hnterrupted me. “Charlie, thank God yo

were there. I called the tower. They told

me what you did. Charlie, you saved thives of several hundred people. I wan

ou to know that I’ve already called th

Major and we’re both in agreement. Th

Major will be awarding you a medal foheroic service as soon as he can push th

paperwork through Tinker AFB in th

morning. How did you ever see both ohose planes at night in these storms?”

“Oh, it wasn’t that hard.” I sai

respectfully. “I just had to get used to



ooking at the clouds.”

“Charlie, we can’t thank you enough,

responded the Master Sergeant. “You

know, Charlie, all of the people and alof the ambulances and fire trucks wer

still waiting down by the Desert Cente

gate. The State Police had the highwablocked off until Dwight drove dow

and convinced them the emergency wa

over.”

“Really?” I responded in surprise“Didn’t the Desert Center tower tel

hem?”

“Yes,” said the Master Sergeant. “Theower operator told them, all right, bu

no one would believe him. The weathe

observer at Palm Meadows field kep

elling them that it was impossible fo



he planes to land anywhere in thi

storm. The weather radar down at th

Field kept picking up constan

hunderstorms and heavy rain over all ohe Desert Center runways. None of u

can figure out how you did it. Even th

radar records prove that any landing wampossible.

When the Desert Center towe

operator told the State Police that th

emergency was over, they just thoughhat he’d been drinking because it’

Christmas Eve. They thought he wa

playing a prank on them. At first, thewere going to have the Military Polic

arrest him as soon as the emergency wa

over. Dwight had to go down there and



convince them to check with th

Palmdale Air traffic controllers and se

hat there weren’t any airplanes in th

sky over Palm Meadows before thewould believe him. You can see them

right now, live, on the TV. They’re stil

down there shaking their headwondering how you could ever hav

seen the planes in this storm. You should

see all of the foam they spread on th

highway. They must have foamed temiles of highway. They foamed all of th

anes.

Charlie, I better let you go in case theneed you outside. But before I go, let m

make sure that I say thanks. Thanks fo

he Major. Thanks for myself. Thank

from all of us. No one could have done



but you, no one. I tell you Charlie, yo

are one fine paperback hero.”

“Thanks, Sergeant.” I responded, stil

otally unprepared to meet all of thespeople on this previously lonel

Christmas Eve. “I better go now. I se

hey’re unloading the planes. They maneed me to show them the rest rooms.”

With that I hung up the phone, just a

passengers and crewmen from the firs

707, followed by the television camerasstarted filing into my room. Withi

minutes, my little weather station wa

down to standing room only, holdinmore people than I could ever hav

guessed. They were all struggling to ge

n to see me. I was really taken of



guard. Out the window I could see th

ractor towing the second 707 u

owards the parking ramp, with stil

more people on board. The plane didnneed to be steered and the hea

stewardess was still sitting in the pilot’

seat.The first pilot, his copilot behind him

grabbed my hand and almost shook it of

my body. With the cameras rolling, the

pilot broke out into tears, saying, “Youdid it! Thank God, you did it! I didn

hink you could ever have done it! I can

ell you how it feels to still be aliveGod knows we’d have all been dea

without you! We planned to crash on tha

highway out there. All of us, we’d al

have been killed. We all owe you ou



ives!”

Then the TV news reporter, a youn

ady, quietly interrupted him, “Please le

he observer say something.”I could hardly have been les

prepared. I stammered a little, sayin

something incoherent about the windsThen, not having the faintest idea what t

say, I shook the pilot’s hand and said

“I’m really glad to see you all. It’s pas

midnight, so now it’s Christmas. I guesGod wants us all to be alive o

Christmas.” Pausing while my min

went racing in silent confused circles, continued, “I’ve turned on the lights an

urned up the heat in the rest of th

building. There are restrooms and som



vending machines and a lounge down a

he other end. You’re all free to wai

nside, anywhere in the building, unti

he buses come to take you down town.”With the pilot and copilot still shakin

my hand, the copilot said to me, “You’l

never know how hard we prayed thaGod would let us all live to see you.”

Then, with no one having the faintes

dea what to do next, the pilot an

copilot, still shaking visibly, led thpassengers down through the building t

he vending machines, the rest rooms

and lounge on the other end. One by onewith the cameras rolling, the passenger

from the first 707 filed through. Eac

one shook my hand. Most hugged an

hanked me.



The passengers from the first 707 ha

hardly finished coming through th

weather station when the passenger

from the second plane, led by the heastewardess, began filing in. With th

cameras still rolling, once again th

room filled wall to wall with peopleOne of the lady passengers was saying t

he TV news reporter, “You should have

seen how the pilot brought the plan

over that red beacon up on the mountaint looked like he was going to hit it wit

he tip of his wing. He couldn’t hav

missed it by more than five feet.”“The head stewardess responded, “H

was afraid that the weather observe

wasn’t going to be able to see us, so h



wanted to make the light blink, even if h

had to break it with his wing tip. H

knew he would only get one chance.”

The TV news reporter said to thstewardess, “I guess things were prett

bad up there.”

“You’ll never know how bad it was,”responded the stewardess. “I’ve bee

flying for 12 years and I’ve never seen

flight this bad.” Turning towards me, sh

continued, “If it hadn’t been for this mannone of us would be alive anymore. We

all owe him our lives. Even the towe

operator said we all owe this man ouives. I don’t know how he did it

Everyone else had given up on us. The

didn’t know what it would have bee

ike. They were going to have us cras



on the highway. The pilot had alread

old us he was going to crash on th

highway and many of us would be killed

He expected that he and the flight crewwould all be killed. He told us all t

save ourselves as best we could, and no

o try to save the flight crew. If this mahadn’t talked him out of it, he woul

have crashed out there in all of thos

houses and wires. He could never hav

found the highway.Our pilot had panicked. The towe

operator was shouting at our pilot. We

were all bent over and we were albuckled in. The pilot came on th

ntercom and told us that the hail and th

urbulence had damaged the plane. H



said that it was impossible to go on, an

hat he was still going to have to cras

out there in the cold nighttime, rai

soaked desert. All of the old peoplwere praying and all of the little kid

were crying. The pilot had alread

started to turn back.I could hear the tower operato

shouting back at our pilot. He wa

shouting, ‘He’s already brought the firs

plane in. Now what are you going to doAre you going to ruin this man’

Christmas just because you don’t hav

he guts to follow his instructions thway the first pilot did? Keep headin

northeast. Do like the weatherman says

There’s more turbulence behind you tha

here is in front of you! And if he’



wrong, what do you care where you die

The first pilot says the weatherma

knows what he’s talking about! Now, ge

back on that northeast beacon!’”Turning to the passengers, sh

continued, “Now I want each one of yo

o thank this man for your lives beforou leave, just like the Captain said. Th

busses will be here in a little while. I’l

be waiting to help you down at the othe

end of this building where the rest roomare.”

Turning back to me, she said, “We al

hanked God that you saw us. We wereall so afraid that we wouldn’t get to se

ou and to thank you.” Then, kissing m

on the cheek, she said, “Thanks, from al



of us.”

I still was at a total loss for words

There was nothing for me to do but stan

numbly there, shaking hands, thankinpeople, and wishing them all a Merr

Christmas. At the very end, with th

cameras still rolling, the pilot, copilotand navigator from the second 707

exhausted, came through. It was obviou

at first glance that they were havin

rouble regaining their composure. understood completely. After landing

hey’d all been crying and vomiting fro

he terrible stress they’d been under.The three of them, all at a total los

for words, just walked up to me an

hugged me like a bear. The pilot

struggling to keep from going totally t



pieces in tears, said quietly, “Have w

wanted to see you. We were so afraid

hat you wouldn’t be here for us to see.”

The copilot, seeing the pilot breakindown again, came to his aid, saying

“What he means to say is that we al

owe you our lives. None of us knowhow to say it, but we all thank God yo

were here. We all thank God that you

could see us.”

Then the entire crew hugged me until was dizzy. They thanked me, and

continued down to the lounge. There th

passengers and crew from both 707smany standing outdoors in the rain, man

drinking coffee and holding candy bar

purchased from the vending machines



all joined together, like crusaders, in

simple ceremony. It was a prayer o

hanks. They all thanked God they wer

alive, and, at the end, they all asked Goo be with me in the future the way he’

been with me in the past.

Watching from a distance, I waotally dumb founded. They were al

performing the same ceremony for me

which I had planned to perform fo

myself. I could hardly believe it. It waas though God had stepped out fro

behind the mist and decided to show

himself to me, once and for all. Thview from where I stood was simpl

stunning and humbling.

As the prayer was just finishing, th

busses began coming. The parking lo



rapidly filled with cars and trucks. Now

he friends and loved ones of th

passengers and crew began streamin

nto the already crowded building. Fohe next several hours a new group o

people, families, and friends of th

passengers streamed through my weathestation. Missing weather reports, it wa

necessary for me to go off line and sen

Tinker AFB another procedure message

Then the TV news reporter came. Shwanted me to show her the view of th

red beacon and the mountains that I ha

used as an aid. With the thunderstormback in full progress, all I could show

her was the lightening, the wind, and th

cold rain.



Hours later, the last of the passenger

and friends had filed out. I sadly wave

he TV news team good bye. I realize

hat the weather station was once againdeserted except for me. It was so lonel

now. I turned out the lights and relocked

he doors in base ops. The vendinmachines that I had planned to use, t

buy some coffee and a candy bar, had

been stripped clean by the crowd

Expecting to nurse my empty stomacuntil morning, I transmitted anothe

procedure message to Tinker. I

nformed Tinker that Desert Center wastill closed and I was back on line.

I went back to my chair and sat down

picked up my history book and wen



back to reading about the Great Crusade

t was such an exciting period in history

loved reading about its great heroes.

I had just started reading when thdoor to the weather station opene

suddenly. In walked the Chief Maste

Sergeant in charge of the chow hall. Hhad with him in cardboard containers

he largest breakfast the chow hall coul

prepare. Three trips to the truck later

setting the last of them carefully on thable in front of me, he said simply, “O

hat second 707, that old couple in th

front row were my father and mother. It hadn’t been for you, they would hav

died tonight, for sure, out there on tha

highway. They would never have bee

able to get out of that airplane alive.”



Then he shook my hand and sai

simply, “Thanks. I brought this over fo

ou. I don’t expect you to believe me bu

swear that tonight, one of your guardiaangels appeared before me in the chow

hall. He was kind of tall and he said

Even a paperback hero needs to eat.’ knew right away that he meant you. H

said your guardian angels want you t

remember tonight whenever you hav

another lonely Christmas Eve. He saihey want you to remember that they’r

always with you.”

With that, the sergeant exited back intohe night, wishing me a Merry Christma

as he left.



The Teacher

Then Job said in reply:At least listen to my words,

and let that be the consolation you offer

Bear with me while I speak;

And after that you can mock!

Job 21:1,3

It was a Friday afternoon at DeserCenter. The new guy, Washington was

washing the windows at the weathe

station. I would have noticed hianyway because of his intensity

However, the rain that was falling at th

ime guaranteed that his actions woul



catch my attention.

“They look a lot cleaner,” I said to

him, trying to strike up a conversation

He didn’t answer me and kept workingWell, I decided, some men are jus

naturally quiet.

Walking into the next room where theforecaster’s area was located, I wa

happily greeted by Sergeant O’Keefe

“Charlie, how nice to see you.” h

exclaimed. “I’m glad you came dowhere when I phoned. I hope you weren

doing anything important this afternoon.”

“No problem Sergeant. I was morhan a little bored over at the barracks

and I was coming down anyway.

wanted to see how that new airma

Washington was making out. I though



maybe he might need some extra help i

his rain,” I answered.

“Oh, no, not this one Charlie. He’

good, I tell you. He’s really goodresponded O’Keefe excited. He’s good

because he has a degree in meteorolog

from the University of Wisconsin aMadison. They don’t give those thing

away. He knows more about weathe

forecasting than anyone here except th

Major. He even does the computationnstead of guessing like so man

forecasters do.”

“No, Sergeant,” I laughed. “You meansometimes weather forecasters are jus

guessing,” I questioned sarcasticall

drawing tears of laughter from O’Keefe



“One thing I don’t understand

Sergeant,” I asked, “Washington is only

an airman first class. If he has a colleg

degree like you say, why isn’t he aofficer?”

“Well, responded O’Keefe, “H

started out as an officer, but he flunkedout of Officer Candidate School-becaus

he’s the nicest guy you’d ever want to

meet.

“He’s too nice a man, Charlie. Hworks like an animal. He should stop

and think about things more. He know

how to read and write in ancient GreekWhen he has time off, he just sits in th

barracks and reads books on ancien

Greek philosophy and compares it to th



Bible. On his time off, all he does i

read those books in the original Greek

He needs more rest.

“He’s single. He needs to be taken upo the Las Vegas casinos like you go up

o the casinos. He needs to let his min

run on ahead in life. He needs to baken to some girlie shows and taught t

gamble. He needs to be taught how t

fight off a man whose trying to kill hi

with a knife, and then taught how to telhat man with the new bruises that you’r

keeping his knife as a souvenir, instead

of calling the police and charging hiwith attempted murder.

“Another problem Washington has

Charlie. He wants to help everybody

Look at him. He’s out there washing th



windows in the rain in order to help th

anitor. Yesterday I saw him sweeping

he floor. If he’s not careful he’l

become the janitor.“Last night when we walked out int

he parking lot, he ran on ahead of m

ust to open my car door. I’m a growman, Charlie. I don’t like people doin

hings for me. He should know tha

Charlie. He should tell me to open m

own car door, just like you do.“I’m worried about him. I tell you, i

he’s not careful, he’s going to drive

himself nuts. Nice people do that, yoknow.

“See if you can help him. Be

Teacher to him. Follow him around



Work with him. Go over there and make

a mess. He needs a teacher like yo

around to keep him from going off th

deep end. Just do it for me as a favorCharlie.

“You see, Charlie, the Major says tha

f you can teach him to stand up fohimself, they’ll send him back to OCS

Whether he knows it or not, his whol

career depends on how much he ca

earn from you.”Laughing and bidding the Sergean

goodbye, I returned to the weathe

observing section of the station. SincWashington went to the University o

Wisconsin, I figured he might be

football fan. Kicking over a chair o

purpose, I greeted him, “How’s it going



Washington? I’m Charlie. I’m the bes

football fan west of Green Bay.”

Recognizing my presence at last, h

put down his cleaning rag, he wadusting the furniture at the time, an

returned my greeting. “Hi.” he sai

imidly.I continued, “I’m from Cambridge

Wisconsin, just southeast of Madison.”

“Cambridge!” his eyes lit up. “

watched all the football games when was attending the UW at Madison.”

I could see that he and I were going t

be the best of friends.The weeks passed slowly. I put idea

n his mind, good ideas, and I worke

hem until they were accepted. It was



slow process, but I could see that he wa

making progress. Late one Monda

afternoon we were both between shift

and otherwise alone in the barracksHe’d been in his room with the doo

closed all day, quietly reading Gree

philosophy. Pounding on his door, called out, “Hey, Washington! It’s time

for the evening meal. Come on. We’l

walk over to the chow hall together.

heard a rumor that the Air Force has pusome new nudie waitresses on the line.

Then I stood laughing for a bit.

It took a while, but after a time, hidoor finally opened and there stoo

Washington, ready for chow. He didn’

actually say anything, but from th

serious look on his face I could tell tha



Sergeant O’Keefe was right. H

certainly needed someone like me t

help him rest.

It was a nice walk to the chow halHe still hadn’t spoken a single word

That was not a problem for me. I figure

he was just a naturally quiet guy whmight like to hear more about footbal

For the next hour, I told him about it.

figured he needed to practic

nterrupting other people, so I gave hiplenty of opportunity.

Finally, half way through the meal, h

started to come back to the land of thiving. Seeing he was getting back t

where he could talk, I asked him, “How

did you do with gambling on your recen



rip to Las Vegas, Washington? Did you

play any blackjack?”

Then I stopped talking and waited fo

him to answer. His answer was somime coming, but the dam finally brok

and his ideas started gushing from hi

mouth.“I did just like you taught me, Charlie

went to that casino where all of th

dealers are beautiful young wome

wearing nothing but those see-througblouses. Man, some of those wome

were just incredible.

“As far as the money went, first I waahead five dollars. Then I was losin

five dollars. Finally, I got back even, so

quit, just like you taught me. Along th

way, I must have gotten them to give m



en dollars worth of free whiskey an

soft drinks. And I also got to watch th

beautiful women for at least thre

hours.” Finally, he had gotten back towhere he could laugh.

“I’m really glad for you, Washington,”

said, “I see you were talking to Paynfor a while this morning. Tell me, how i

Payne doing these days up at Mojav

Wells?”

“Oh great,” answered Washington“Right now he’s taking the afternoo

wind measurements down at Range One

He really likes driving down there withis truck and playing around. I guess h

akes one of the other range rats dow

here with him every time he goes.”



“Every time?” I asked.

“Yes, every time,” responded

Washington. “At first he didn’t. He’d

ust go down there himself. But he saihat one day he saw something far out i

he sagebrush. He’s a little near sighted

ou know, so, he started walking ouhere slowly, to see better what it was.

guess when it was still really far away

t started growling like a coyote. H

figured it was growling at him, so hurned around and took off running. H

doesn’t know what it was but he doesn

hink it was actually a coyote.“Well, anyway, now anytime he goe

out there, he takes one of the range rat

with him. The range rat always stay



outside and watches the sagebrush whil

Payne takes the readings. I guess

works out OK.”

“I appreciate you telling me abouPayne,” I continued, “Did I understan

hat conversation you had with the Majo

his morning? Are you going up to thgunnery ranges after Payne?”

“Yes,” answered Washington. “

asked the Major when he was going t

send you up there again. The major saihat you were far too valuable to send up

here again. He said that he wanted yo

here at Desert Center so that whenevehere was bad weather, you could com

n and train the other observers. He sai

he needed you every time there was a

airplane in trouble.”



“But you’re a very valuable perso

oo, Washington.” I stated.

“Oh, anyone could replace me here a

Desert Center. But no one could replacou,” said Washington sincerely. “The

Major told me what he is going to do

He said he is going to leave Payne up aMojave Wells for four extra weeks

while he gets together with hi

commanders. He’s going to have m

promoted back to being an officer. Hsays they’ll start me out as secon

Lieutenant.

“Then, the very day the paperworcomes through, he is going to send me up

o replace Payne at Mojave Wells, and

eave me there for the next two or thre



ears. I have a degree in Meteorology

and I know all about forecasting an

observing the weather. The Major said

hat he’s going to let me take completcharge of all of the weather stations ou

here on the ranges. After I’ve been up

here a month and I’ve had a chance tget settled, he’s going to have the Ai

Force training school send out six o

eight new observers who are in need o

on-the-job training, and station thewith me. He says the new observer

would be rotated up there for six week

at a time, on a flexible schedule. Thehey would be replaced with another set

That way, he says, the Air Force will b

able to use all of those vacant facilitie

as a large training school with me i



command. I might even make Colonel up

here. If I had a sergeant to help me, lik

Dwight, a school like that could handl

as many as twenty students.The Major says they’ll be sure t

nclude observers who started thei

careers in other trades and are crosraining into weather observing. He say

hat students like that always nee

someone who is unusually patient an

helpful, to get them headed in the righdirection,” Washington paused for a

minute, deep in thought. Then h

continued, “There’s something else waout there on the ranges which the Majo

wants me and Dwight to study too, bu

he Major didn’t say much about what



was,” concluded Washington slowly.

“Making you an officer is a wonderfu

dea, Washington!” I exclaimed. “I’m so

happy for you.”“Thanks, Charlie,” he said gratefully

“I’m happy, too. I’m just as excited as

can be, but there’s one thing I don’understand.”

“What’s that?” I asked.

“The Major said that he came up wit

his idea right after he talked with youone day when you and O’Keefe wer

working the day shift together. I was jus

wondering what you told him that gohim started in the right direction?

Laughing some more, Washington

continued, “You even have the Majo

believing that he thought up that par



about Dwight.”

“The part about Dwight?” I answered

playing dumb.

“Now don’t go pulling that on meCharlie.” laughed Washington. “When

he Major told me how he’d thought up

his idea of sending Dwight up therwith me, I knew you’d been up t

something.”

“But Dwight, would be a valuabl

person to have up there with you,” said. “You’d need a friend for company

Dwight would certainly keep all of th

other airmen in line and maintain thproper level of discipline in the ranks

He has so much experience that he coul

handle many of the routine trainin



sessions. He and his wife grew up in th

country out in the far west. They’r

extremely close, and they enjoy doing al

sorts of things together. He could movhis family up to the town of Mojav

Wells and settle down for a while

They’re wonderful people. You, he, andhis family would all be quite happy.”

Smiling pleasantly, Washington

replied, “You’re right, Charlie. O

course, you were also right when yopointed out to the Major that such a

assignment would guarantee me th

eventual rank of Major, and Dwight thrank of Master Sergeant. You’re the las

person I’d ever argue with. Heck, if

won the argument, I’d be afraid that

was because you wanted me to win.”



By now, the two of us had finished

eating, and we began the long walk bac

o the barracks. We spent most of the

ime laughing. As we were approachinhe barracks, I turned to Washington and

said seriously, “There’s one thing you

need to remember about Mojave WellsWashington.”

“What?” he asked.

“Remember the story Payne told

ever leave the roads or the prepareplaces around the range lounges and g

off into the desert by yourself. Never

never, never! No matter what! Even iou think you see people out in th

desert starving to death. It’s too

dangerous. Just use your truck to driv



nto town for help. When you get t

know the ranges, then you can decide fo

ourself. But remember, especially a

first, never leave the road alone.”I thought I had made it clear enough

but I’m only human, I guess. I didn

realize that he wasn’t listening. I didnrealize that once again, his mind wa

racing on ahead. Dumb to what wa

happening, I continued, “And remembe

Washington, when you’re up there, youcan tell me or Dwight or Steve anything

and we’ll believe you. Remember, yo

can tell us anything at all.”We were just reaching the barrack

when Washington noticed that Maste

Sergeant Walters was waiting for us

Since it was now past 6:00 in th



evening, we were quite surprised

“What’s up, Sergeant?” I asked.

Smiling, and apologetic, the sergean

answered, “I’m sorry to interrupt youevening, but there’s been a problem wit

Payne up at the gunnery ranges. Th

Major and I have decided to senWashington up to Mojave Wells early to

replace Payne. Washington, I’ll take you

up there tonight, and get you linked u

with him. I’ll come back up on Fridaand bring Payne back to Desert Center

That’ll give you a few days to learn th

ropes. Tomorrow, I’ll walk thpaperwork through so you’ll have you

orders and get your extra pay. I ma

have to make a special trip up there o



Wednesday to get your signature on

some of them, but don’t worry

Washington, it’ll all work out. And don’

worry, the Major has already beguwork on your promotion to Secon

Lieutenant.”

“What happened to Payne?” I askedshowing visible concern.

“Oh, he’s not hurt, but he had a

accident with the truck. He was drivin

back from range one, today. He was stilen miles from base, coming back on tha

gravel road.”

“Yes, I know it well,” I stated.“Well, he must have been driving sixt

miles an hour out there, and a safe spee

on that road isn’t any more than 35,

continued the sergeant, obviously angr



with Payne. “The truck hit a rock in th

road and went into the ditch. The tie ro

was bent and the truck couldn’t b

driven. Then Payne got out in the hot suand started running towards town. Th

accident must have scared hi

something terrible. I mean, he grew up ihe desert. He knows better than to g

out running in the summer sunshine i

such a hot dry climate. Anyway, he made

t back to town only because the rangrats saw him from far away and came t

rescue him. I talked with him on th

phone. He sounds half way calmed downow.”

“Maybe something was chasing him,

suggested. “Both he and Sullivan hav



reported seeing occasional whit

coyotes and other animal like things ou

at range one.”

“I find that hard to believe, Charlie.responded the Master Sergeant angrily

“Coyotes and other animals don’t chas

rucks, especially at 60 miles an houro, this is going to cost Payne a stripe

’m going to ask the Major to prepare a

article 15 tomorrow, and if Payne give

us any back talk, I’ll ask the Major tgive him a section eight discharge.”

I could see the Sergeant’s mind wa

made up, and there was little point iarguing with his six stripes. I helpe

Washington pack. By 7:00 in th

evening, they’d left and I was alone i

he barracks. I remember how happ



Washington looked as he and the

Sergeant got into the sergeant’s car

Even then, his mind seemed to be racin

on ahead.The rest of the week flew past, as di

he next week. Then came Wednesday

morning. I had just signed in. I waworking the day shift at Desert Center. I

promised to be a quiet day. The weathe

was clear and nearly calm. The range

wouldn’t be used again for anotheweek. No one anywhere cared about th

Mojave Wells winds today. The range

winds were certain to be light anvariable, hardly worth wasting a heliu

balloon to measure them. The mornin

forecaster, Sergeant O’Keefe, realized



his and gave Washington the day off

When Washington called in the 4:30

winds, O’Keefe answered the phone

O’Keefe told him that no more windwould be needed that day and suggeste

hat Washington spend the day in Palm

Meadows having fun. Yet, Washingtonrefused to lock the weather shack an

spend the day relaxing in the city

Without telling O’Keefe, Washington

decided to continue the day’s windmeasurement schedule, anyway. He’d

brought his Greek philosophy book

with him. There was no one else out ohe ranges to disturb him. So in betwee

hese unnecessary runs he intended to d

some reading.

The Major, Master Sergeant Walters



and the company clerk were away at

week long conference down in Lo

Angeles. So except for the forecaster,

was alone in the weather station. Thduty forecaster was holding down th

forecaster’s area alone, so I had the res

of the building to myself.Payne had been brought back fro

Mojave Wells in disgrace. He had spen

he time sitting in silent depresse

hought in the barracks while the Majoconsidered whether or not to give him

section eight discharge. Payne hadn

aken the loss of a strip silently. He hadargued with the Major. He’d claimed h

had a good reason for driving the truc

n such a panicky fashion-a reason h



said he’d be happy to explain to th

Major, if he could do so in private. Th

Major had refused the request. Th

Major said he already knew what threason was and that Payne needed mor

discipline.

Washington had already phoned in theunnecessary 7:30 winds, so I was take

off guard when Washington phoned in

still again, at 8:15 a.m.

“Washington,” I exclaimed, “I’msurprised to hear from you so soon.

Washington was more emotional than I’d

ever experienced. “Charlie, thank Got’s you!” he exclaimed, screaming

“Thank God I have you to handle this.”

“What’s happened, Washington?”

asked in surprise.



“I’m out here at range three. I just saw

a solid white airplane crash out in th

desert. It appears to be the fuselage of

arge airliner. It crashed at 8:13 a.m. It’about a mile northeast of the weathe

shack. Record the weather for th

accident report. I’m going out there thelp the people. That plane will b

burning in a minute. I need you to sen

help as fast as you can. This is a rea

emergency! We’ll need lots oambulances, helicopters, and fir

rucks.”

“But wait, Washington!” I shouted intohe phone. “Don’t go out there! You mus

be wrong. You’re the only one out there

Airliners aren’t allowed to fly over tha



whole section of Desert! There aren

any planes flying anywhere up ther

oday. There aren’t any planes up ther

o crash! Stay where you are! Listen tme, Washington!” I screamed into the

phone. “Please. Listen to me! You’re al

alone, Washington! Don’t go out therealone!”

“I don’t have time to explain now

Charlie,” he continued, still no

istening, his mind still racing on aheaof mine. “Those people out there nee

me. It looks like it’s going to star

burning. I see smoke and dust over theret looks like a large airliner that ha

already lost its wings. Its tail section ha

already broken off. It looks big enoug

o have a hundred or a hundred and fift



people on board. I have to go out an

save them, Charlie. I have to go! I hav

o save them from the flames! Send m

help as soon as you can. You’re the onlyperson I’ve had time to phone. I nee

our help. I’m depending on you!”

With that he hung up. I could tell thahe hadn’t listened at all to me. I coul

ell his mind had already gone racing o

ahead out into that huge, empty desert.

I quickly recorded the weatheconditions. They could hardly have bee

better, clear skies, light winds. Then

walked over to the emergency phone the Desert Center tower. Picking it up,

said, “This is Charlie. I’m the dut

weather observer.”



“Hi Charlie,” answered the operato

on the other end. “What can we do fo

ou.”

“I called to find out more about thaairplane crash which just occurred up a

Mojave Wells,” I said.

“What crash?” answered the operator“I’ve been on duty since six thi

morning. There haven’t been an

airplane crashes. Every plane out ther

s accounted for.”“Are you sure?” I responded

becoming more mystified with eac

passing minute.“Of course I’m sure, Charlie,

answered the operator. “I don’t hav

anything else to do with my time on



day like today. I just sit and talk to th

passing airplanes. Here, to make yo

happy, I’ll check again with the ai

raffic control center at Palmdale.” Ashort pause ensued. Then he returned

“I’m right. Every plane out there in th

entire southwest is accounted for.”“But Washington, the weathe

observer up at the gunnery ranges jus

phoned me and reported seeing a

aircraft accident about one milnortheast of the Range Three weathe

station,” I implored.

“I don’t know what he could havbeen looking at, Charlie, but I’m tellin

ou, it couldn’t have been an aircraf

accident. We would have heard about i

even if it had been some highl



classified experimental model.”

“Thanks,” I said and hung up th

phone.

I phoned the base hospital to see ihey had heard anything. Like the tower

hey were certain that no accidents ha

occurred on the Mojave Wells rangesThey were certain that if one ha

occurred, they would have bee

nformed. I tried phoning back the Rang

Three weather shack. There was nanswer. Now I had a real problem

Washington was obviously alone and ou

n the desert. So far, there was no helpcoming.

I tried phoning the barracks at Mojav

Wells. There was no answer. I though



for a minute. Then an idea came to me.

phoned the Mojave Wells motor pool

My good friend Mark answered. As

expected, Steve and the range rats werplaying cards in one of the buildings i

he back of the motor pool. Mar

promised to bring one of them to thphone. I could hardly blame the rang

rats for playing hooky on a day lik

oday. Playing cards was much easie

han picking up 25 pound practice bombaying underneath some ragge

sagebrush in this hot sun.

I waited patiently. After seven minutehad passed on my watch, Steve finall

came to the phone. “Hello, Charlie.

said Steve. “It’s good to hear you

voice. What do you want?”



“Hi, Steve, Washington seems to be

having some kind of emergency out a

range three. He phoned me and said tha

a plane had crashed about a milnortheast of the range three weathe

shack. He said that he was driving ove

here to help. He’s out there alone. I wahoping that I could get you and som

range rats to go out there and help him.”

“No, sir, Charlie.” replied Steve

“Not after seeing that thing that wachasing Payne a couple weeks back

Doug, Wayne, and I all saw it real good

up close and everything. Payne must’vupset old Range Four Harry real good

We’d just as soon give old Harry some

ime to settle back down. The ranges ar



supposed to be closed for today. Tha

hing is still out there, you know

Charlie. If Washington isn’t careful, it’l

be chasing him too!”“Chasing Payne?” I asked. I wasn

sure I’d heard him right.

“Well, it wasn’t really chasing him, iou know what I mean,” said Steve. “I

t had wanted to, it would caught hi

mmediately. It was just scaring him so

he’d go back to base.“But just because it’s you, Charlie, I’l

ell you what I’ll do. I gather up some o

he boys and we’ll take two or threrucks out to range three. We’ll stay fa

apart for safety, like we always do when

hose things come in close. I’ll phon

ou from the range three lounge when w



get out there. Then we’ll see what we’r

going to do next.”

“Thanks, Steve. I’m sure tha

Washington will appreciate it, too.“Don’t worry, Charlie. I’ll phone yo

as soon as we get out there.” replie

Steve.With that Steve hung up the phone.

checked again with the command post

There simply couldn’t have been a

aircraft accident up at the gunnerranges. Every single airplane wa

accounted for. Having nothing else to do

went back to my weather duties anwaited patiently for Steve’s call.

Time passed. First seconds, the

minutes, then a length of time tha



seemed like an eternity.

Mark phoned, and informed me tha

Steve and all of the range rats, usin

hree trucks, had gone out to helpWashington. He was in communication

with them by way of the two-way radio

he trucks carried.According to Mark, Steve insisted tha

one truck wait at the range three gate an

guarantee that the gate remained open

Steve ordered the second truck, driveby Wayne, to wait on the paved road

about a mile down from the range thre

buildings. Steve insisted that the trucfirst turn around and wait while pointe

back towards base. He also insisted tha

Wayne wait with the engine running

Wayne obviously understood why. Only



Steve and Doug would go down to th

range three weather shack. Mark sai

Doug was driving towards the building

very slowly while Steve watched. Hsaid other than that, he didn’t have an

nformation.

After still another long wait, the phonrang. It was now 11:45 a.m. It wa

Steve. He sounded very serious, “I’

sorry it took me so long to call, but firs

we had to talk to Washington.”“What is it, Steve?” I asked. “Wa

Washington there?”

“Oh, he was there all right, Charliet’s a mighty good thing you called us to

come get him. To begin with, you ca

cancel your aircraft emergency. Ther



aren’t any accidents up here,” sai

Steve.

“What about Washington?” I asked.

“You better tell the major to send upan experienced replacement like you o

Payne, and not to expect any more win

reports for today. Doug and I will brinWashington down as soon as he’s able

o travel,” continued Steve. “He’s no

going to be able to make the trip alone.”

“What is it, Steve? Has he been hurt? asked.

“Yes, Charlie, they hurt him real bad

They did something to him. It looks tme like they burned him, up on th

forehead. Maybe his mind will snap ou

of it when he gets some rest with yo

down at Desert Center.



“Doug and I got here like you asked

When we drove up, his truck was parke

n front of the shack with the engin

running. He was hysterical with terrorThe door on the driver’s side of hi

ruck was open. He was sitting in hi

ruck on the passenger side, so I thinhey were the ones that drove him bac

here. He hardly knew us when we go

here. He said that when they saw u

coming, they took off running. He said iwe hadn’t come, they’d have killed hi

for sure.”

“Who, Steve? Who drove him back the shack,” I asked.

“We went out there a little ways and

saw what he saw. It was that same thin



hat was chasing Payne a couple week

ago. It’s still over there in a little hollow

out in the desert. It’s down in th

sagebrush. You can’t see it from here. Imust not have known that Washington

was anywhere around when he drov

over there. He must have gotten on top ot before they knew he was coming.

hink he surprised it pretty bad.

“He had his truck parked out bac

between the buildings like Payne and showed him, so that nothing would know

he was here, since Range Four Harry i

always mighty curious, you knowWashington probably had all of the

doors to the shack closed at the time too

All buttoned up like that, they must hav

decided the place was deserted, and fe



t was safe to come in close.

“Just a minute! Doug in the truck say

hat thing’s started to move. We have to

get Washington out of here now! We’lbring him down to you! Be patient. It’l

ake us a while.”

“But shouldn’t you take him to thhospital first?” I asked.

“No, Charlie, No!” shouted Stev

emotionally. In the background I could

hear Doug laying on the truck hornscreaming, “Come On! Steve! It’

coming this way! Let’s get out here

now!”With that, Steve hung up the phone.

I was stunned. I could hardly make an

sense out of what had happened. Afte



hinking about things for a while,

phoned the Desert Center weathe

barracks. Payne answered, with deep

depression and repressed anger obvioun his voice. “Payne,” I said pleasantly

“Washington is in some kind of trouble

up at the Wells. They’re bringing himdown now. You’re going to have to go

back up there tonight. You’ll have to

ake over the ranges until the major get

back. You’ll have to get things back inorder. They’re really going to need

man with your experience up there. The

couldn’t possibly give you a sectioeight now. If they did, they wouldn’

have anybody with experience left t

cover the ranges. Let’s go to the evenin

supper at the chow hall together, as soo



as I’m off duty. You know you never did

ell me how that accident happened.”

“I have to go back to the Wells?”

asked Payne. His spirits were obviouslstarting to pick up. “I’m not going to b

hrown out of the Air Force?”

“Yes, Payne. I believe that’s right,” answered. “I’m pretty sure that Dwigh

will agree with me. As you know, the

major left Dwight in charge of th

weather observers while he anSergeant Walters are away. By the time

hey get back, you will have racked u

an impressive record for being the maof the hour. They’ll think of you as th

nice young man who worked hard an

saved the day. The major will probabl



give you a little lecture for driving to

fast, and probably have you wash th

windows here at the weather station

couple of times. But I’m pretty surhis’ll get you off the hook.”

“But what about you? Why can’t the

ust send you up there, discharge me, anask for some new troop to help out dow

here at Desert Center?” asked Payne.

“Oh they could never do that,” I said

“I’ve been having these bad stomacpains from eating the food at the chow

hall,” I responded, laughing. “I feel fin

when I’m moving around a lot, like herat the Desert Center weather station

You know how, once in a while this flu

have, has been giving me dizzy spells. I

wouldn’t be safe for me to go up t



Mojave Wells alone, right now. I won’

be in shape to go back up there unti

after I can get in to see the doctor. Whe

do, I’m pretty certain that the hospitawill want to watch this flu for two

maybe three weeks at least.”

“Oh, right,” said Payne, finallaughing for the first time since hi

accident. Then he continued, “You

know, Charlie, some days you can’t li

worth a darn. You’d better work on thaone while I’m up there.”

I said goodbye to Payne and checke

with Dwight. He was in completagreement and said he’d inform th

major. I still remember how long Dwigh

aughed when he phoned me back. H



said, “Charlie, I talked with the major

He agreed with our plan. He’s reall

concerned about Washington. He said

hat Payne should thank God that he has friend like you.” Dwight continue

aughing, “The major said there’s no

reason for you to pretend to be sufferindown at the hospital just to convince hi

o let Payne of the hook. He said i

ou’re not careful, they’ll take you

appendix out down there just for the fuof it.” Dwight laughed some more, “Th

major told me, ‘Have Charlie spend a

evening inspecting some show girldown on the strip, and then have hi

show up for duty complaining about ey

strain. I’ll believe that one for at leas

hree weeks.’ He was laughing his gut



out at the time.”

Having finished talking with Dwight,

said good-bye and returned to my duties

The afternoon dragged on slowly as waited for Washington.

Finally, at 3:10 in the afternoon

Washington walked slowly into thedeserted front office of the weathe

station. Obviously dizzy, he staggered

when he walked. Positioning himsel

next to a chair, in the middle of the opefloor space, he stood there quietly, and

waited for me to come find him. Throug

he windows I could see Steve and Doudriving off.

“Washington!” I exclaimed gently

“Are you OK?”



Obviously in intense pain, he tried t

speak. At first he was totally incoherent

offered him a chair but he refused to s

down. Finally, he found some words hcould say. “I’m going to see th

neurosurgeon!” he pronounced slowl

and forcefully.“Tell me about it, Washington,” I said

gently. “You know I’ll understand. You

know you can tell me anything. You

know I’ll believe you.”He stammered incoherently for a lon

ime. Then he began crying intensely

His anguish was obviously too much fohim to bear.

“You know I’ll understand,”

continued gently. “You know I’ve been



out there myself, Washington. Whateve

s out there, you know I must hav

already seen myself, from far off.”

Washington stopped crying for a fewminutes, and began breathing deeply. H

started speaking very slowly, ver

deliberately, and very quietly. Inbetween his stammering and his tears, h

said, struggling to find his self contro

“I was only trying to help them. I though

hey were dying. I thought it was going tburn. I couldn’t drive any farther. Th

sagebrush was too thick out there. I go

out. I ran. I ran on ahead. I went to savhem from the fire. I got to the rise. A

ast, I could see it. It lay there. It looke

ike a big airplane without wings or

ail. I shouted for them to get out of ther



before it burned. I shouted at it. I threw

rocks at it. I tried to break the windows

so the people could get out before i

burned, but when I threw the rocks, thewouldn’t even reach it.

“Suddenly the door opened, and fou

monsters came running out at me. Thewere white and terrible. They wer

angry little mutants. They had claws an

growled at me like angry coyotes.

couldn’t run. They were all around mgrowling and jumping. They ran al

around me. I was trapped.

“Then a young white woman camrunning out. The monsters must hav

kidnapped her and made her their slave

They were terrible. She shouted at me i



English. Somehow she knew what I wa

hinking. She was shouting, ‘they ar

only playing with you. Run away. Don’

help me.’“I couldn’t leave her there. I couldn

eave her to those terrible monsters.

grabbed her arm. It was pure white anhin. They must not have even fed her

Then, she began fighting me. She bega

growling at me like a coyote, like th

errible little monsters. I tried to run. ried to take her with me.

“Then two men came running out o

he fuselage. They were so angry! Thealmost killed me! I couldn’t fight them

They were screaming in English, ‘yo

diot. You stupid idiot! Run you idiot

Run for your life!’



“I tried. God knows I tried to run, but

couldn’t! I let go of the girl. I was goin

o leave her behind! I couldn’t figh

hem. They were too strong! They haclaws and growled at me like angr

dogs, and horses! I had to leave he

behind. I tried to turn but the monsterwere everywhere. There was nothing

could do! The monsters were in the way

grabbed one of them and slapped hi

out of the way.“Then the men got so angry. I couldn’

hink anymore. I was so helpless. One o

he men took out a little square whitpencil, and he burned me! He pointed i

right at my forehead and he burned me. I

hurt so bad. I was helpless. I couldn



hink any more! I couldn’t tell what wa

happening anymore. The men grabbe

me and started dragging me towards m

ruck. Then they dropped me in the sandand one of them went and got my truc

while the other one screamed at me i

English. I was lying there on the groundcrying. I was so terrified. I was beggin

hem not to kill me. The one by me wa

screaming, ‘you stupid pig. You are no

even supposed to be out here todayThey were only playing. You hit the

ittle girl! We will kill you for that! You

grabbed the teacher! Do you think she ihelpless? Do you think we are fools? D

ou think we bring her out here with n

weapons? She should have killed you!

ntend to kill you myself as soon as th



Captain lets me.’

“They brought my truck and jamme

me into the passenger seat. One man go

nto the driver’s seat and the other onclimbed into the back. They starte

aking me down the road towards rang

four. The girl saved my life. She raover to the truck and growled somethin

at the both of them. Then she shouted a

me, “The little girl is going to be alright

so we are going to let you live. Donever come out here again. We will kil

ou if you ever come out here again. D

ou hear me? We will kill you!“Then the girl stayed behind. We have

o find her. We have to rescue her. I was

helpless. They had me in the truck. I wa



out of my mind. They looked all whit

with large blue eyes, blonde hair, and

claws. They drove me back to the shack

They were screaming at me all the wayThe man driving used the pencil on m

forehead again and again. The pain wa

awful! I couldn’t stand the pain. He wascreaming, ‘Are you going to get out o

here? Are you going to get out of here?’

couldn’t take it anymore. I wa

screaming. I was begging for my life! passed out in my truck. When I came to

Steve was there. Thank God I calle

ou, Charlie. Thank God Steve wahere!

“I can’t take the pain anymore

Charlie. I’m going to the neurosurgeon

Thank God you were here, Charlie! I’



hurt real bad, way down, deep inside m

head. I can’t think anymore. I have to g

o the neurosurgeon. All I was doing wa

helping them, Charlie. All I did was ruon ahead so I could help them. I jus

wanted to save them from the fire.”

With that, he turned slowly and left thbuilding. I could see him stumblin

slowly across the parking lot toward

he hospital. He seemed to be crying

still in abject terror.That was the last time I ever saw

Washington. The rumor on base was tha

he neurosurgeon gave him six months R& R leave to be taken in his hometow

back in Ohio. According to the rumor

he neurosurgeon ordered him to locat



six of his favorite high school gir

friends and report on what they wer

doing now. The neurosurgeon was also

rumored to have asked him to file similar report on six of his favorite hig

school friends who were young men. A

requested by the neurosurgeon, the AiForce promoted Washington back to the

officer’s ranks. They made him a secon

ieutenant. Then the air Force increase

his salary an extra $30 dollars a day tcover his travel expenses. After si

months, rumor had it that he still hadn

mproved, so the Air Force gave him ahonorable discharge. They also awarde

him an 85% disability for menta

reasons, non-revocable for life.

The evening meal came quickly a



Desert Center. 6:00 p.m. found Payn

walking beside me across the grave

covered vacant lot that formed the pat

o the chow hall. His spirits wersoaring, and he now found plenty o

opics to discuss. As we walked, I asked

him, “Payne, what was it like up at thWells when you were there?”

Payne thought for a minute or so

Choosing his words carefully, h

responded, “You know how scary thosebuildings out at range three can be

especially on dark nights. I just can

believe that you were willing to go ouhere at 3:30 a.m. alone. When I was u

here, I wouldn’t go anywhere out on th

ranges at night. Even in the daytime,



wouldn’t stay out on the ranges alone i

between balloon runs. I would just driv

slowly out to the range, take the balloo

readings quickly, and drive back intoown real fast. When I am alone, I don

stay out there even to do th

calculations. I drive back to the barrackon base and phone them in from there.”

“Before my truck accident,” Payn

continued, “I used to go for short walk

out in the sagebrush down at range onebut not anymore.”

“What happened on the day you ha

our accident?” I asked.Payne sat quietly for a few minute

before answering. Then he answere

calmly, “One afternoon down on rang

one, after I had finished all of m



balloon runs, I had just closed up th

shack when I saw something small an

white a short ways out in the sagebrush

thought it might be a rabbit or a youncoyote so I went walking out into th

sagebrush to catch it. It started barkin

and yelping, and took off running throughe sagebrush. I took off running after i

chased it for a short time. I almos

caught it, but it got away from me. Then

from three or four other places down ihe range one valley I could hear a lot o

barking and yelping, and I got kind o

scared, and I took off running to mruck. Once I got my truck running, I spu

he tires and got out of there fast.

“The next afternoon, I had finishe



aking the readings for the last run of th

day, and I had just closed up the weathe

shack down at range one. As usual,

was going to drive back to my barrackon base, do the calculations, and phon

Desert Center from there. As I wa

walking towards the truck, somethinall and white stood up out in th

sagebrush. It wasn’t very far out there

maybe only a hundred feet or so. You

know, Charlie, how I’m a little neasighted. In the bright sunlight like tha

well I couldn’t be certain what it was.

spoke to it but there was no response. At stood there, it seemed to be waitin

for me to come out and get a closer look

so I walked out towards it very slowly

’d take a few steps at a time. Then



Charlie. She said that you seldom wen

hiking out in the desert. When you did

ou never went chasing after the thing

ou saw. She said I should be more likou and be content to just look at thing

from a distance. By now I was so afrai

couldn’t have even whispered aanswer. Then she said that I had bee

chasing one of the children the da

before. The lady said the child was s

errified that the child will have to resfor at least two weeks before it can b

aken on another field trip out into th

desert. As my punishment she said, shwanted to make sure that I knew how

felt to be afraid. Then about a quarter o

a mile behind her I saw this large whit

craft rise up out of a depression in th



sagebrush where it had been hiding. I

ooked sort of like the fuselage of

passenger plane, only it didn’t hav

wings or a tail or visible engines oanything. That’s when I finally panicked

just went berserk with fear. I almos

ripped over my own feet as I turnearound and started running towards m

ruck. I tell you, I ran faster than I hav

ever run in my life. I climbed into m

ruck, started the engine, and just floorehe gas petal trying to get out of there.

could see it chasing me in my mirror

They could have caught me anytime, buhey must have only wanted to scare me

They did a real good job of it too.”

“That’s why you were driving so fas



and lost control of the truck on one o

hose curves?” I asked.

“Yes,” answered Payne. “I won’t go

back out there to Range One. No sir, noeven if someone was to put a gun to m

head. From now on, every time Deser

Center asks for range one winds, I’going to just make them up like all of th

other guys except you, used to.

“I can’t believe all the things you di

out there alone, Charlie.” said Paynhoughtfully. “The range rats tell me tha

besides Ranges Three and Four, you go

out to Ranges One and Two by yourselfSome days they’d even see you drivin

way out there, out beyond Range Four

all alone. Charlie, you’ve got som

guts!”



“So when you go out there, you tak

someone else with you?” I asked.

“I sure do,” answered Payne. “Usuall

take Doug. Nothing will ever sneak uon Doug. When we go out there, we hav

o drive all around behind the building

and everywhere before Doug is satisfiewe’re alone”.

“Except for you, Steve is the best on

o take out there. He knows the mos

about the ranges, and he never takes anchances.”

“But I tell you, Charlie, nobody ca

compare with you. Every one of thrange rats says that, you know. They al

say that they don’t feel safe out ther

when you’re not there. I sure agree wit



hem.”

“That’s a surprise, Payne. I wonde

why they would feel that way?”

responded.“It’s because you think things throug

and keep your head about you whe

something unexpected happensEveryone has noticed it. Like that da

ou sent the air policeman and the tow

ruck out to Range Two.”

I answered. “Tell me, Payne, what didscare the range rats that day? They neve

would tell me. They always tell yo

more than they tell me.”“Range Four Harry,” He answered

“The range rats said that when it cam

ime for lunch, their truck wouldn’t star

Then they all walked the mile or so up t



he lounge to call for help. They say tha

when they got there they saw Range Fou

Harry standing inside one of those ol

aircraft hangers up by the mountainswatching them. They panicked and ra

nto the lounge and locked all of th

doors and windows. The phonwouldn’t work, and they didn’t know

what to do, so they all hid inside

shaking in their boots. They say h

ooked more like a young lady wearing white nurse’s uniform.”

“Gee, now I’m really confused

Payne,” I answered. “What kind owoman in a white nursing uniform is ou

standing in an old aircraft hanger

making sounds like a horse, scarin



servicemen on a government base, 2

miles from the nearest town, on a ho

summer day in this desert?”

“I can’t make any sense of it either,Said Payne. “But Bryan, the ai

policeman, walked up there slowly an

saw her from a distance. He thought was the same woman who was waitin

for you in the barracks, the night afte

ou left and came back to Deser

Center.”“Waiting for me?” I exclaimed in

surprise. “Gee Payne, I never had an

women in the barracks when I was up aMojave Wells.”

“Well, you know how you alway

stayed in that long double barracks dow

by the runway before Steve had yo



move into the barracks with the rest o

he guys?” said Payne. “You know, i

was one of those barracks where th

range rats swear they’ve seen whitghosts?”

“Yes. It was that single story barrack

with sections and a shower anbathroom area in between. Both section

were really long. Except for me, it wa

deserted. But it did have bunks for 7

men.”“Did anything unusual ever happe

while you were staying there?” aske

Payne.“Sure, Payne,” I answered. “Man

hings happened in that barracks that

have never told anyone. I never felt lik



was in danger, or that I was threatened

n any manner. But that was a might

scary barracks to occupy. The lights i

hat barracks didn’t light it up, and therwere dark shadows all over the place

There were only a couple of windows i

he entire barracks so you could nevesee outside. I tell you, Payne, it too

courage to walk into that place alone a

midnight.

“Since I was the only one in the entirbarracks, I could sleep on any bunk

wanted to. When I moved in, I picked th

bunk closest to the bathroom anshowers. That was in section one. For

couple of days it worked out all right

Then things started happening in th

section between me and the doorway o



hat end.”

“Things?” asked Payne.

“Yes, unexplained things,”

continued. One night I walked down thaisle to the bathroom. By the time I cam

back up the aisle, I discovered that mor

han two hours had passed, but I sweahat I hadn’t spent more than ten minute

n the bathroom. After a few weeks o

hese strange events going on, I decide

o change compartments so that I’d feesafer. I chose the compartment closest to

he door. That way, I reasoned, no matte

what happened I would be able to geoutside to my truck. This worked fine fo

a few days. Then, it started up again. I

seemed like my mind started playin



ricks on me. In one of the compartment

n section two, every now and then

seemed like there was an intelligen

sheet floating in one of its corners. never had the courage to actually wal

down into section two for a closer look.

“Then there was that aircraft mechaniwho stayed in the barracks with me for

few days. They’d sent him up fro

Desert Center to repair that F105 tha

was forced to land at Mojave Wellwhen its engine quit. Well, he only

stayed in there with me for a few day

before he left the barracks one night iabsolute panic. He claimed he woke u

n the middle of the night, and there wa

something white standing in the aisl

way. He never would go back into th



barracks, even to get his belongings

Steve and I had to go in and get them fo

him the next day.

“After he left, things starting gettinreally scary. When I would walk from

my compartment to the bathroom

sometimes it seemed like some of thdark compartments on both sides of th

aisle held sheets of white cloth or whit

wall paper which I never dared to loo

at. Then in the mornings, when I got up a3:00 a.m., sometimes it seemed like

wasn’t alone. When I would be shavin

n the bathroom, it seemed liksomething was watching me from th

darkness. It seemed like something wa

ust real curious about everything I did



But it didn’t seem to be curious abou

me, so much, as it seemed to want t

study everything I had. It felt like mor

han anything, it wanted to reach out angrab my razor, my soap, my after shave

everything I had, and look at my thing

up close.“Then I noticed that whatever it was

t seemed like it knew what I wa

hinking. One night I had parked my truc

n that gravel parking lot across thstreet. While I was still in the bathroom

t felt like it asked me in a playful spiri

“What are we doing next?”Without paying much attention,

answered by thinking, “Now I’m goin

o walk to my truck.” Immediately, it fel

ike it was really happy, I mean happie



han I can describe, and that it was goin

o run on ahead of me so that it coul

watch me get into my truck. It seeme

happier than any kid is when he’playing his favorite game. It seemed lik

t just went skipping out through the hal

open door to the barracks before I couleven turn around to see what it was

Then I felt like I was alone again.

started wondering if I was losing m

marbles. But then, when I got out to mruck, as I was opening the door,

became certain that I was being watche

by that same something. It just seemed tbe standing on the other side of th

barracks, the one that Doug always say

s haunted. It felt like it was just happ



and playful and that it enjoyed playin

games with me. When I looked ove

owards that barracks, I could see som

soft white fluorescent light coming oufrom behind it. I tell you, Payne, I’

certain that there was something rea

playing games with me.“One day I became certain tha

something had very carefully taken ever

tem out of my duffel bag and ver

carefully put it back in. I was stunnedThere was just no way around it. I ha

ust done my laundry the night before.

had carefully placed all of my cleaclothes in my duffel bag. When I got up

n the morning at 3:00 a.m.,

ntentionally placed my duffel bag on to

of my bunk. I’m certain that it was sittin



on the bottom of my pillows when I lef

for the ranges.

“When I came back to my barracks a

he end of the day, I can’t explain mysurprise. There was no question about it

my duffel, had been moved at least

nches. When I looked inside, I coulhardly believe my eyes. Every singl

piece of my clothing had been remove

from the bag, carefully unfolded

carefully refolded, and carefully placeback in my bag. A few of my clothes had

been placed back in my bag in

different sequence than the sequence used. I hardly knew what to think next.

“Then I started taking my flashligh

with me whenever I went anywhere i



he barracks. That way, I could shin

some light into the dark shadow

whenever I went to the bathroom o

walked through the barracks. One night was way past midnight and I ha

already gone to sleep. I woke up

suddenly because I had to go to thbathroom. Grabbing my flashlight,

quickly got up and went hurrying dow

he aisle to relieve myself. As I wa

walking back, I let the light of mflashlight fall into all of the dark corner

n the empty compartments along th

aisle way. They weren’t all the same. Awalked past one of them, my hear

nearly stopped in shock. I was to

stunned to do anything but keep walkin

back to the end of the barracks where m



bunk was. I was so shocked that

couldn’t actually become frightened.

couldn’t actually believe that what I ha

seen was real. It looked like there was narrow white sheet hanging up agains

one of the walls, maybe six feet tall an

hree feet wide. I knew it hadn’t beehere before. My mind must have bee

playing tricks on me because the shee

ooked like it was a vibrantly aliv

otally white young woman witntelligent blue eyes looking back at me.

“I was so stunned, I just kept walkin

back to my bunk and sat down. remember thinking that there was n

point in running. I remember thinking tha

might as well lay down and go back t



sleep because whatever it was, if i

hadn’t killed me yet, it probably wasn

going to.

“The next morning, I didn’t use thbathroom until after the sun came up

When I checked the compartment, ther

was nothing there. But the thing thaconvinced me that I had seen somethin

real is that there wasn’t anything ther

hat could have been mistaken for

white sheet, either. I tell you, thacompartment was absolutely, totally

empty of everything except the meta

bunk.“That day, I changed compartments.

chose the compartment that was down a

he other end of the barracks. I chose th

ast bunk down by the outside door t



section two. Then, I would never use th

bathroom or the showers after sundown

unless I was absolutely forced. Even so

many nights it still took guts to sleep ihat barracks.

“Then I noticed that on many war

summer mornings, when I got up at 3:0a.m., the door on the east end of th

barracks would be propped open. Tha

door didn’t have any steps outside of it

t opened to the north. It opened oudirectly to the flight line. I bega

carefully inspecting the door before

went to bed. I’m certain that every nigh closed it securely. Some nights

ocked it, and stayed up until afte

midnight watching the door. Many night



even left the lights on. Yet, morning

after morning I would get up and th

door would be propped open. One night

right after evening chow, I spent a halhour over in the airman’s club befor

returning to my barracks. Then I went t

bed early. I got up at midnight just towatch the door to see who was openin

t. To my surprise, when I got up a

midnight, the door was already proppe

open. I decided it meant that whoevewas opening the door had to have a wa

of knowing if I was sleeping, befor

opening the door. But the reason it madme break out in a cold sweat, wa

because it also meant that whoever wa

doing it, also had to be monitoring m

movements from some distant place ou



n the desert north of the base area. Thi

realization really frightened me for

ime, because my compartment did no

have any windows, and the barrackdoes not have any windows on the nort

side.

“One morning, I was determined I wagoing to find out who was opening th

door while I was sleeping. I got up a

3:00 a.m. Once again, someone ha

already propped open the door. I quicklshaved, brushed my teeth, and go

dressed. Then I went over to get a close

ook at the doorway. I noticed that mbarracks was isolated from the othe

barracks. I also noticed there were n

other buildings at Mojave Well



between my barracks and the desolat

desert covered mountains and valley

stretching to the north of Mojave Wells

started wondering about that, so I weno my truck, and started it up. I drov

around the base checking every othe

door, before heading out to take thmorning weather run. Every other doo

on Mojave Wells base was closed. Why

wondered, would the only door tha

opened out into the empty desert be onterest to anyone… anyone excep

Range Four Harry?

“Then one night I was awakened by noise in my barracks. I quickly go

dressed, went outside, locked mysel

nto my truck, and waited. I saw som

white people like creatures run out fro



my barracks into the sagebrush in th

desert northwest of my barracks. The

were running twice as fast as a

Olympic runner is capable. I was bundle of nerves for a while. After a few

days though, I decided that I had t

protect my sanity-at any price. I decideo just force myself to forget everythin

hat had happened. In order to protect m

sanity, I taught myself to just close th

door in the morning, shave and gedressed without asking myself an

questions. I trained myself to just ignor

any lights I saw out in the desert, anust walk to my truck singing my happ

songs. Some mornings, I was praying t

God every step of the way. This polic



of denial let me finally settle down an

enjoy being stationed at Mojave Wells.

“I believe you, Charlie,” Said Payne

Remember the week you trained mehow you returned to Desert Center o

Thursday afternoon instead of stayin

until Friday like we told Desert Centeon the phone?”

“Yes,” I answered. “You were trained

and I wanted to leave early so I coul

date Pamela.”“That was perfectly fine with me

Charlie,” answered Payne. “That wasn

any problem at all. I just thought yomight like to know, that evening, abou

10:00 at night,

Bryan was going through the barrack

ou used. He’d been driving by an



noticed that door on the side by th

runway was propped open, that sam

door that leads straight out into th

desert to the north.“Well, he went walking in slowly and

making a lot of noise and singing loudly

n case there was some airman in therwith his girlfriend. He wanted to be sur

hey knew he was coming. To hi

surprise, there was an attractive youn

ady standing in there in the aisle whgreeted him when he came in. He wa

really surprised because she wa

standing in there in total darkness, ahough she were waiting for someone.

“Bryan said she was well dressed

wearing a nice dress with long sleeves



and gloves. She also wore opaque whit

stockings, flat dress shoes, and sh

appeared to be about 19. He noticed tha

she was wearing quite a bit of makeupand a wig. She had an unusually ligh

complexion. He said that she wa

naturally very quiet. When she spoke thim, she pronounced the words i

English very carefully and ver

smoothly. He said she didn’t have an

accent whatever. She appeared to bholding something like a pencil in he

right hand.

“Bryan asked her what she was doinhere. According to Bryan, she identified

herself as ‘The Teacher’. She said tha

she was waiting to talk to you, Charlie

and that she wondered where you migh



have gone.”

“Me?” I asked in surprise. “But

Payne, I don’t know any woman lik

hat. I don’t know any woman who eveknew I stayed in that barracks.”

“I know,” answered Payne. “Bu

Bryan swears that she seemed concernewhen he told her you had gone back t

Desert Center early. She asked if yo

were OK and happy.

She wanted to know if you had beehurt or terrified in any manner. Whe

Bryan explained that you were in perfec

health and you were just going bacearly so you would have time to mak

he long drive up to Las Vegas, she

seemed noticeably relieved. Accordin



o Bryan, she said she always enjoye

being around you because you wer

always so happy and interesting. Sh

said you had always been so patient wither and the children. Then she said tha

he children loved being around you too

especially her little girl. She hoped thehadn’t frightened you. She seemed to b

really happy when Bryan told her tha

ou liked it up here, and you would b

coming back up to Mojave Wells nexsummer. Bryan said it felt like tim

wasn’t of any concern to her. It felt lik

she had hundreds of years to work with.“According to Bryan, she stood ther

silently as though she was talking t

someone else with her mind. Then sh

old Bryan that she wished to leave an



asked him to leave first so she had roo

o leave without brushing past him

Bryan agreed. The two of them walke

out to the door. Bryan held the door opefor her. He said she asked him to leav

he door propped open for a few hours

Bryan agreed. She asked him to walk heback to her trailer in the Mojave Well

railer park. Bryan agreed and the

started walking side by side ove

owards the trailer park, which is a milor so over there. Bryan said that for

ong time when they were walking, sh

wouldn’t say anything. Then, when thewere just entering the gate to the park

she suddenly exclaimed, ‘There’s m

railer,’ and went running on ahead o



him.

“There wasn’t any way he could hav

kept up with her. He said she ran faste

han he’s ever seen any human run.She just ran away from him and kep

running until she was out of sight, wa

up ahead of him. The thing Bryan says hfinds so screwy is that he’s certain sh

didn’t go into any of the trailers. He’

certain that she ran through the traile

park and just kept running down that dirroad out into the desert to the northeast

Bryan doesn’t know where she went. H

says that she just vanished out into thnight, out into the sagebrush.”

“Well,” I answered. “I honestly don’

have the faintest idea who the woma

could have been, but you know, tha



Friday night about 1:30 a.m., I wa

playing blackjack in that new big casin

on the strip. I was playing with Pamela

We were laughing and having a goodime together. Well, there was this one

oung woman standing in the crow

across the casino. I became convincehat she was watching us and followin

us around. She matched the descriptio

of the woman who was talking to Bryan

She seemed really happy and playful. Iwas completely unnerving because I fe

ust like I used to feel in the barracks a

Mojave Wells. It felt like she wastudying my every move. It felt like sh

was intensely interested in every motio

made, whether it was with the cards, o



moving my chair, just everything. After a

while, I was so disconcerted I just didn

know what to do with myself.”

“Perhaps,” he responded, “but think ohe time. It couldn’t have been the sam

woman. It was about 10:30 when she ra

on ahead of Bryan. It’s several hundredmiles from Mojave Wells up to La

Vegas, and to that casino where you

were. Bryan last saw her running ou

nto the sagebrush. She would have haess than three hours to make the trip

Then, in order for her to find you, she’

have had to been able to read your minfrom a distance, through walls an

everything. Either that, or else she woul

have had to know how you think, bette

han you know yourself. Otherwise, how



would she have been able to pick yo

out of the Las Vegas crowds on Friday

night? No human could do anything lik

hat.”“You’re right,” I said. “It couldn’

have been the same woman.”

“Not unless she was very good arunning on ahead,” answered Payne.



The Hap py Charade

. . . And now, compelled by the spirit,I am going to Jerusalem,

not knowing what will happen

to me there…

Acts 20:22

Washington’s problems had a nuclea

effect on the Major, Sergeant Waltershe Desert Center Base Commander, and

on the Pentagon Generals. Officially

Washington was rated by the baseneurosurgeon as having suffered

mental collapse. They said that he ha

been overwhelmed by the intens



oneliness of the Mojave Well

environment and duty conditions

Responding to an order from the bas

medical commander, a one star generalevery weather observer at Desert Cente

was ordered to report to th

neurosurgeon’s office, one at a time, onper day, for a full block of psychologica

esting. Only those observers approve

by the base neurosurgeon would b

allowed to pull a tour of duty at MojavWells. So, one by one, the detachmen

weather observers visited the bas

hospital as ordered. Yet, even that, found alarming. While the othe

observers were not given precis

appointments by the base neurosurgeon,

was. For the others a time slot wa



assigned, 2:30 to 3:30 every afternoon

Since the Major cared only that al

observers eventually report as ordered

a great deal of schedule shufflinoccurred.

Yet, for me it was different. Everyone

else was scheduled to go first. Than twweeks would pass before my turn came

After watching observer after observe

report for testing in catch-as-catch-ca

order, I became convinced that somype of error had occurred. I decided t

switch with my friend Dwight and repor

n his place. Who would care, I thought.I was in for a terrible shock. Tha

warm march afternoon when I entere

he front door of the neurosurgeon’



reception area, the receptionist reacte

as if I’d come to rob a bank. I wa

hardly inside the door when she jumpe

up in anger, and demanded to know wha was doing there so early. To my

surprise, she recognized m

mmediately. She already knew me bface, name, rank, and serial number

even though she was a perfect stranger t

me. I hardly had time to say my nam

before she angrily ordered me out of threception area, and back into the street.

As she was physically pushing m

from the building, I became especiallconfused. The date I was scheduled t

visit the neurosurgeon was three week

hence. I was scheduled for th

Wednesday of the week of Easte



vacation. Yet, according to the sign on

he front door, the building would b

closed and locked for the entire Easte

week. All medical personnel werscheduled to be away on vacation

Above her angry orders, I asked her i

he schedule was correct. As she waphysically shoving me out the front door

she shouted, “Of course it’s correct

Airman Baker. We never make mistakes

We know perfectly well who you areYou be here exactly at 1:30 on the day

ou’re scheduled, and not one minut

before!” Then she slammed the frondoor in my face and locked it to preven

me from reentering. As I walked away

across the gravel covered parking lot ou



front, I could hardly have been mor

perplexed.

I walked slowly back to the weathe

station to let Dwight know that he wastill expected to report to th

neurosurgeon’s office. I expected to

relieve him so he could report for testinas ordered. I really wasn’t prepared fo

what happened next. By the time

arrived at the weather station, the Deser

Center MP’s appeared to be ousearching for me. As I entered the fron

door the Major was just hanging up th

phone. He called me over to his desand said in fatherly tones, “That was th

base neurosurgeon on the phone, Airma

Baker. They really don’t want you to

report for testing until Wednesday o



Easter week, three weeks from now.”

“But I don’t understand, Sir,”

responded respectfully. “The sign o

heir front door says the entire medicafacility is going to be shut down for tha

complete week. If I wait until then, th

doors will be locked and the building igoing to be completely empty.”

The Major responded seriously, “As

understand it, Charlie, the hea

neurosurgeon will make a special triand come back from vacation on tha

day, in order to be there to conduct you

ests.”“But Major,” I carefully protested

“The other observers who have talke

with him say he’s planning on spendin



all of Easter week in San Francisco

According to the schedule, he’ll have t

fly back here in the middle of hi

vacation just to talk to me for an hour oso. He could have just talked to m

oday and not had to screw up his entir

vacation.”The Major chose his next words ver

carefully as he answered, “Charlie, th

neurosurgeon is an officer with almos

30 years of experience. His schedule ihis problem.

All I know is that they really don

want you over there even one minutearly. That was the base medica

commander on the phone. He made

explicitly clear to me that they think o

ou as being a very, very specia



ndividual.”

Still protesting, I continued, “Bu

Major, Sir, how do they even know who

am? That new guy Harris, the one withe wife and the two little kids, told m

hat when he went over for his turn las

week, the neurosurgeon spent less thafive minutes talking with him abou

himself and his family. Harris claim

hat the neurosurgeon spent the rest of th

hour, that’s 55 minutes, Major, jusasking him questions about me. Harri

claims that the neurosurgeon alread

knows everything there is to know aboume. Harris claims the neurosurgeo

wanted to know all sorts of ridiculou

details about me… things like, did



enjoy playing with his kids, did I ge

upset when his kids got in my way; did

get surprised if his kids came up behin

me suddenly? I don’t know what’s goinon Major, but I tell you when Harris and

his wife had me over for supper thre

weeks ago, I never even touched hikids. I mean he has nice kids and a nic

family, but I let his wife take care of th

kids while Harris and I played chess.

don’t know what’s going on Major, buhe way they’ve scheduled me doesn

make any sense. It just doesn’t make an

sense at all!”The Major sat quietly, absorbed i

deep thought for a few minutes, befor

answering me. When he finall

answered, he spoke very slowly an



chose his words very carefully

“Charlie, the schedule doesn’t mak

sense to you or to me, but I assure you,

does make perfect sense to the basmedical commander. We, here, serving

our country in the military, have to lear

o trust our officers and to do as we havbeen ordered. The orders that we hav

received are very explicit. They com

from the base medical commander an

he is a one star general. The orders statvery explicitly that it is OK for you to b

as much as 45 minutes late for you

appointment. However, these orderstrictly forbid you from being even on

minute early. Do you understand you

orders?”



“Yes, Major,” I answered

respectfully.

The Major continued sympathetically

“The medical commander says hunderstands if you are afraid to g

nside. The medical commander says h

understands if you choose to waoutside for as much as 45 minutes to ge

up your courage to go in among them

The medical commander told m

personally that he will understand if thehave to come outside into the parking lo

o interview you. He told me personall

hat you must come alone, and that onlou may attend the meeting. But

promise you Charlie, that if you ente

hat building so much as one minut



early for your appointment, the medica

commander will not understand, and i

ou enter the building even two minute

early, you will be court-martialed.”“Court-martialed, Sir?” I responded i

fear and surprise.

“Court-martialed!” responded thMajor. This is a very special interview

You may come to this interview as much

as 45 minutes late. You may say anything

ou want to. You may wait outside in themiddle of the parking lot. You may make

hem come outside to talk to you. If thei

appearance or actions frighten you, yomay end the interview any time yo

chose, anyway you chose, for any reaso

ou chose. He gives you his word that n

matter what happens, they will no



pursue. But if you enter that buildin

even two minutes early, the Bas

Medical Commander and I bot

guarantee that you will be courtmartialed.”

With that I was dismissed. I was too

afraid to ask any more questions. ThMajor was obviously a man who mean

what he said. I relieved Dwight as th

duty observer so that he could report fo

esting. No one seemed to care that hwas late. Yet, to my surprise, he

reported that no one would have cared i

he had been early either. Like HarrisDwight reported that the neurosurgeo

spent less than five minutes talking wit

him about his feelings, his family, or hi



children. Like Harris, Dwight reporte

hat the neurosurgeon seemed intereste

only in discussing his observations abou

me. “Why me?” I wondered. “Why me?t seemed as if the entire base medica

facility was doing everythin

backwards. “Why don’t they want me tcome one minute early on a day when th

entire medical facility is closed?”

wondered. “What would I possibly se

outside or inside a deserted set omedical offices that would make the

want to court martial me?”

As I waited for my appointment, thdays and weeks seemed to drag by. Da

by day, I waited anxiously. Finally, the

day of my appointment came. Whe

Easter vacation began, the base medica



facilities shut down completely, just a

he sign had promised. Although m

appointment was scheduled for 1:30 i

he afternoon, I was in uniform, waitinn my barracks, by 9:00 a.m. My nerve

were so on edge that I skipped the noo

meal. Using my radio, I checked anrechecked the accuracy of my watch a

east a dozen times. When 1:00 p.m

arrived, I left my barracks and began th

ong slow walk over to the apparentldeserted base medical facility.

carefully timed my route so that I arrive

at the outside entrance to thneurosurgeon’s office just over two

minutes late.

As I was crossing the gravele



parking lot out in front of the building, i

he distance, through one of the darkene

windows I could see the receptionis

come out from a door to a back roomwalk slowly and smoothly into th

reception area, walk over to the entranc

door, and unlock it. As she did so, noticed that she didn’t bend forward a

most women would have. Rather, he

unusually thin frame remained standin

straight upright as she reached out anunlocked the door. Then she walked

back behind the counter in the receptio

area, and sat down out of sight. At thime, I was actually relieved that sh

wasn’t the normal receptionist who ha

ordered me out of the facility thre

weeks before. The whole thing did see



odd, though. The receptionist wa

wearing a wig, gloves, white nylo

stockings, lots of makeup, and a dres

with long sleeves, a lot of winter clothefor such a warm spring day. I judged he

o be about my height, 5'11”. She wa

also unusually thin, and had an unusuallsmooth manner of walking.

Arriving at the front door, I gentl

opened it and walked inside. To m

surprise, the receptionist didn’t rise uo greet me. Instead, she remaine

sitting, bent over behind the receptio

counter. In an unusually quiet pleasanvoice, and an unusually well spoke

manner, she directed me to have a chair

He’ would be with me shortly, she said



Through it all, she sat generally facin

away from me, and acted as though sh

really didn’t want me to see her face, o

any portion of her except for her wig anher right temple.

In addition to the receptionist an

myself, I could hear three other peopln the otherwise deserted building. On

was sitting in an office all the way dow

a hall, on the other side of the doubl

doors in front of me. The other twcould occasionally be heard, apparentl

standing, just inside the doorway to

room which connected directly to thback of the reception area. Since I ha

never heard them sit down, I conclude

hat both of them were standing. I foun

his fact slightly unnerving. Men standin



nside of doorways are usually wel

armed security guards. “But why woul

hey be guarding a doorway that only

receptionist could use?” I wondered. hought about it for a few minutes.

concluded that the two men, whom I ha

never actually seen, must be providing safe haven for the receptionist. The

must be standing there just in case sh

felt she needed protection from me.

hought about it some more. It still didnmake sense to me. If the security guard

felt that I was a threat to the receptionist

why wouldn’t they just walk out into threception area and demonstrate that th

receptionist was well protected?

I noticed that all of the lights wer



urned off. That seemed odd, but ther

were quite a few windows, and thes

windows let in some sunlight. Still,

wondered, “Why don’t they want thfluorescent lights turned on?”

As I looked around the room, my gaz

fell on the thermostat. Despite the fachat this was a warm afternoon and th

receptionist was warmly dressed, th

hermostat was turned up beyond 8

degrees Fahrenheit. “Why doesn’t threceptionist turn it down?” I wondered

“With all of the clothes she’s wearing

she must be roasting.”An answering thought seemed t

appear in my mind. It seemed to com

nto my mind from nowhere i

particular. I found myself thinking tha



he earth wasn’t a warm place. I foun

myself thinking of the earth as a cold

desolate wilderness where the mos

ntelligent people had to dress carefulln order to stay warm.

Then there was the matter of th

parking lot. As I gazed through thwindow, an odd fact struck me. Th

parking lot was completely empty. “So

how did the receptionist and the othe

hree people get here?” I wondered. Thonly vehicle anywhere around, that

knew of, was a large step van which I’

seen parked out back when I wawalking over to the building. Yet, the

whole thing still didn’t seem to mak

sense to me. A rich, high ranking



military doctor with a highly paid nurse

and two assistants, all meet somewhere

all get in a step van and drive over to

deserted set of offices just to ask me if oved my mother and my father? Wh

wouldn’t they just bring their cars?

Then there was the receptionisherself. She still hadn’t looked at me

even once. She sat behind the counter

bent over so far that only the top portio

of her head, from the temples up, coulbe seen. She was sitting so still that

soon became convinced that she wa

istening to something. Yet, what? Therewere no radios to be heard. The loudes

hings in the entire room were the silen

houghts that roamed around in my brain

Then I noticed something truly confusing



When I moved, in order to get

magazine to read, the receptionist move

oo. It seemed as if she was intent o

keeping her right temple always turneowards me, as she sat there. Then

noticed that she seemed to be able t

correctly anticipate my every movealmost as if she were able to read m

very thoughts. Now my nerves wer

really getting jangled.

Then I found my thoughts wandering. found myself remembering th

experiences I’d had at Mojave Wells

and how much I’d enjoyed them. I founmyself remembering the beautiful earl

morning drives out to range three, an

pleasant afternoons down at range one



Then I found myself day dreaming abou

aking the balloon measurements wit

children playing around me, and havin

pleasant conversations with beautifuwhite coyotes and other animals. Then

remembered rescuing the lost little whit

girl with the big blue eyes, down arange one. Then I began to feel like m

mind was no longer my own.

Getting hold of myself at last,

brushed all of the thoughts that I couldout of my mind. I sat quietly an

patiently, waiting for the doctor to cal

me. I noticed that more than 15 minutehad passed. I worried that maybe I’

come too early. According to the Major

would be in serious trouble if I ha

come early, and the Major was a man o



his word. In order to reassure myself,

spoke to the receptionist, speakin

clearly and gently, “I came at the prope

ime, didn’t I. My orders said that I hao report at 1:30, and I arrived at 1:32.

There was no answer, so I repeated m

statement, “Excuse me, I came at thproper time, didn’t I? I mean, I wasn

oo early, was I?”

After a long pause, the receptionis

replied, speaking carefully, still sittinbent over, looking away from me

keeping her right temple turned toward

me, “Yes, You came at the proper timeSit quietly. He will be with you in a few

minutes.”

Nothing seemed to make any sense t



me. I sat there wondering “I’m ordere

o report to a deserted set of offices

over Easter vacation and then forced t

sit quietly in a chair, day dreaming everminute about past experiences, and wa

for a long time, because th

neurosurgeon is too busy to see me ascheduled?”

Having no other choice, I sat quietly

as directed by the receptionist, an

waited for the neurosurgeon to see meThen an odd thought crossed my mind. I

he neurosurgeon was the man waiting i

he office down the hall, waiting to seme, and if I was waiting here to see him

he only thing keeping us apart was th

receptionist. “Why doesn’t he just wal

up the hallway and get me?” I wondered



After all, this is his vacation that I’

screwing up. Then another odd though

crossed my mind. I became convince

hat the neurosurgeon wouldn’t come tget me because he was afraid to b

around the receptionist. It was such a

odd thought that it didn’t seem as thoug’d even thought it at all. Rather, i

seemed like someone had placed it ther

n my mind for me to read.

I struggled with this odd idea for few minutes. It didn’t seem to f

anywhere in my mind, and it didn’t see

o have come from within me. Thneurosurgeon, after all, was a one sta

general. “Why would he be afraid of hi

own receptionist?” I wondered.



As I sat there wondering, I noticed tha

he clock on the wall now read 1:58 p.m

Without warning, and without movin

her head towards me, the receptionisspoke, “At exactly 2:00 p.m., you are t

go through the double doors. Walk

directly down the hallway and talk to thman sitting in the end office,” she sai

pleasantly. Then, without really standin

up, she arose slightly from her chair an

suddenly left the room-exiting throughe doorway behind the counter. As I sa

here, I could hear her meeting up wit

he other two individuals standing in thback room. They weren’t sayin

anything. Only their footsteps could b

heard. I was shocked. Through it all, sh



had acted as though she didn’t want m

o see any portion of her. not her dress

not her face, not her legs, only her hai

and her right temple. It seemed as thougshe’d kept me sitting there for a full hal

hour, just so she could sit with her righ

emple directed towards me.Having nothing better to do, I sa

patiently watching the minute hand on th

clock measure out the remaining tw

minutes. Then, at 2:00 p.m. sharp, slowly got up from my chair, looked

around the deserted reception area fo

anything I might have dropped, pusheopen the double doors, and entered th

ong hallway beyond. Down a shor

hallway to my right, it was obvious tha

he receptionist and the other tw



ndividuals were standing out of sight i

a darkened empty room. I thought it od

hat the other two individuals, whom

had never been able to see, had been swilling to stand more or less still for

full half hour in a windowless room wit

no lights, when it would have been seasy to place chairs in the room, turn o

he lights, and sit down. It seeme

contrary to human nature.

In any event, I continued down thong hallway. I was glad to be finall

seeing the neurosurgeon, whom I ha

waited so long to see. Reaching the lasroom on the end of the hallway,

knocked on the closed doorway.

“Come in,” was the pleasant response



I opened the door and went in. Sittin

here in a soft chair, in a darkened room

was a pleasant man, probably in hi

early forties. He was neatly dressedwearing a nice three-piece business su

with a narrow necktie. The bulge unde

his left armpit betrayed the gun he wacarrying in a shoulder holster. From th

size of the bulge, I concluded that the gu

must be an unusually large caliber. Th

bulges in the pockets of his suit jackeooked suspiciously like extr

ammunition clips. “Unusual tools for

neurosurgeon,” I thought to myself.“Have a seat,” he said, apparentl

referring to a sofa positioned to the lef

of him. “And close the door so we ca



alk.” I noticed that he never once mad

any hand or body motions as he said this

and remained sitting motionless throug

t all.I found it odd that he was obviousl

unwilling to rise up out of his chair t

greet me. Yet, his unwillingness didn’seem directed at me. Rather, it seemed

as though he was just used to living in a

environment where nobody greeted eac

other, or reached out to touch each othert struck me as odd. I chose to pursue th

matter. As I sat down on the sofa, I said

n a calm, matter of fact voice, “understand that the fruit trees are i

bloom and that San Francisco is prett

his time of year,” knowing that th

neurosurgeon was from San Francisco.



“I don’t know,” he answered. “Th

cherry blossoms weren’t open yet las

week in Washington DC. Maybe they’re

open now in San Francisco.”I was stunned. The gun, the lack o

mmediate knowledge of San Francisco

he conclusion was inescapableWhomever I was talking to, it certainl

wasn’t the base neurosurgeon.

nterpreted his pleasant smile to mea

hat he expected this happy charade tcontinue. I didn’t disappoint him

Smiling myself, I continued, “I suppos

he leaves are just beginning to come oun southern Wisconsin. There were som

rees out in front of my high schoo

which always started to put out thei



eaves about this time of year.”

“No. They haven’t started openin

et,” he responded, knowingly. “You’re

alking about those big old trees jusacross the street from the high schoo

where the roots have pushed up th

sidewalk, aren’t you?”I was almost too stunned to answer

“Had he actually been checking up o

me so closely that he’d traveled out t

my high school just to see what it lookeike?” I wondered. I thought about it fo

a minute. Men with guns, wh

nvestigate you by walking around youhometown, usually call themselve

security agents. Such agents do not giv

psychological exams. They giv

debriefing sessions. I wondered, “Is tha



what’s really happening? Was the hal

hour wait in front of the receptionist th

actual exam, and am I now bein

debriefed by the government securitagent?” It seemed so backwards fro

what I had been expecting.

I decided to continue probing fonformation. His pleasant smile betraye

his belief that all of the security base

were still covered. I let him think so

There was no point I decided, iupsetting him. I smiled pleasantly

myself, and speaking calmly and clearly

continued my probing. Turning to him, said pleasantly, “I see the lights ar

urned off. Do you want me to ask th

receptionist to turn them on?”



The way the muscles in his upper lef

arm and neck twitched, along with th

muscles over his gun holster convince

me that my question had struck home“Was she still in the reception are

when you came down here?” He aske

showing both fear and surprise.“No,” I responded, settling him down

“But she and her aides were standing i

hat back room down the side aisle.

could easily walk down there and asher to turn on the lights if you want.” I

was a clever trap. I was expecting hi

o say no. I wanted to see how he wagoing to do it.

Sitting calmly, almost motionless, and

speaking in a smooth and wel



controlled voice, he responded, “No

ever disturb them. They always wan

o be alone. We should just stay sitting

here and let them be alone. If they wano talk to us, they’ll come to us.”

His response really took me off guard

He clearly believed that he and I formeone group, and that the receptionist an

her two aides formed another. Yet he

and I had met only minutes ago. “Wh

does he believe that he and I are of kind, and that the receptionist and he

wo security aides form a differen

kind?” I wondered.Yes, confusing as it was, things were

starting to make sense to me. Thing

were starting to add up. The securit

agent obviously believed that when



was sitting in front of the receptionist i

he reception area, I was sitting in th

presence of a person who was vastl

different from both he and I. Threceptionist was obviously a perso

whom he didn’t want to upset. He almos

certainly was afraid of her. I had spenime meeting with the receptionist. I

was obvious to me that now, the securit

agent, posing as a psychiatrist, wanted t

debrief me to see if I was still all rightt all made sense, except for one simpl

fact: the receptionist had never onc

asked me a single question. Apparentlynothing had happened when I wa

waiting in the reception area, except tha

my thoughts had seemed to wander



great deal. I sat there in confusion

wondering about things for a few

minutes. Had nothing really happene

when I was sitting in front of threceptionist, I wondered? How then, ha

guessed that he was afraid of her whe

was sitting in the reception area?I thought for a minute more, and

decided to continue my probing. Turnin

owards him, I continued, as though

knew more about the receptionist than was revealing, “I see the receptionis

was wearing a dress with long sleeves

a wig and gloves. She must have beewarm enough, wearing all of thos

clothes in this weather.”

At the mention of the receptionist, th

man in front of me flinched noticeably



Then he responded, in a warm manner

“Yes, it’s just now becoming warm

enough outside for her to move around

but she has to stay heavily dressed iorder to do it. Actually, I was surprised

hat she agreed to be here, today, sinc

t’s so early in the spring. She musreally enjoy meeting with you becaus

she’s risking another sickness with wha

she’s doing. Ordinarily, she wouldn’t go

outside into the open air for anothemonth or so.”

I was too stunned to respond. I sat o

he couch, mentally struggling to digeswhat he’d said. Then he continued, “Di

everything go all right when you were i

he reception area?”



“Yes,” I answered, still struggling

with my thoughts.

“Did she tell you about her little girl?

he asked.“No,” I answered, “I didn’t know sh

had one. She didn’t say anything to me a

all.”“That doesn’t matter,” he answered

knowingly. Then he asked, “What kind

of thoughts were going through you

mind when you were waiting out there?”I responded, “Well, while I wa

sitting out there, I did have an unusuall

pleasant daydream about being out ohe Mojave Wells gunnery ranges in the

early morning hours. In my dream, I wa

playing with an unusually intelligen



ittle girl, while her mother staye

watching me from out in the sagebrush

The little girl in my daydream was sor

of like a little second grader, who worpretty white dresses and things, and wh

seemed to really enjoy riding ponies an

playing games around the area where was working. Sometimes she seeme

ike a playful little butterfly.”

This seemed to make the man in fron

of me happy. Smiling noticeably for thfirst time, he responded, “I can see tha

our wait in the reception area was

success. I’ll explain to you what’s goino happen next. Then I want you to leav

here by way of the back door. When you

eave this room, do not, under an

circumstances, return to the receptio



area. I want you to continue down thi

hallway to the exit door at the end of th

hallway, and leave by going out tha

door into the back parking lot. Then want you to walk directly away from th

building toward the airman’s club. You

are not to look back at this building aou do so. Keep walking away from thi

building until you have reached Deser

Center Avenue that is about a mile ove

n that direction. Then you may dwhatever you want. Do yo

understand?”

“Yes,” I answered. I knew better thano ask any more questions.

He continued, “I’m going to give you

commanding officer, the major, the



following orders. Only you may b

stationed at Mojave Wells. You will be

stationed up there alone, and you will b

stationed up there until further noticeYou will never be ordered off the

ranges, even if the ranges are closed du

o an emergency.“You may go anywhere you wish on

he ranges, at anytime you wish. Tha

ncludes day or night, weekends an

holidays. You are also allowed to go afar out as you wish, anytime you wish

o guard is ever allowed to say no t

ou, even at night.“No other weather observer may b

stationed with you. If you get sick, the

no one may replace you. Taking the win

measurements will cease until you hav



fully recovered. If you have an acciden

when you’re out there, then you mus

bring yourself safely home.

“If you need to be relieved for a fewweeks to take your annual leave, the

our friend Payne, and your frien

Dwight, as a team may relieve you. Thiwo-man team, Payne and Dwight, mus

be together at all times, even to visit th

bathroom. They may relieve you for n

more than two weeks, once every simonths.

“Under any circumstances, no marrie

observer, other than Dwight, may evebe stationed at the gunnery ranges. Onl

hose single observers whom I hav

approved may be stationed at th



gunnery ranges. In every case they mus

be part of a two or three man team, an

n every case the team may not spen

more than 3 days and 2 nights at MojavWells, with no more than one assignmen

per man per year. Under no

circumstances is any weather observeexcept you, ever allowed more than on

half mile from the immediate road

between the Mojave Wells base and

weather shacks. No observer, excepou, is ever allowed to visit places suc

as the ammunition bunkers out at rang

hree or the arroyo at range one. Iaddition, no observer, except you, i

ever allowed to travel beyond rang

hree, or to be on the road to range four.

Every weather observer, except you



must report immediately to the Deser

Center base neurosurgeon for debriefing

They must do so upon return from an

rip or any assignment to the MojavWells ranges. They must be debriefed

even if the trip was only an afternoo

rip to deliver supplies. Upon theireturn, as soon as they enter the Deser

Center gate, they must report to th

neurosurgeon.

That’s everyone, including the Majoand Sergeant Walters, no exceptions

except you.”

“Except me?” I asked, sitting in quiewonderment.

“Yes,” he answered. “Everyone

except you. Nothing about you



assignment is classified, nothin

whatsoever. You have total control over

everything that you see, that you hear, o

hat you do. The only rule is thawhatever you do, you must do it alone.

You are never to report for debriefing

Whatever you see, whatever you hearwhatever you experience, you nee

never tell anyone unless you wish to

You may tell anyone you wish, or no one

f you so wish. You may tell them everysingle detail and experience, as often a

ou wish, or you may tell them nothing

t’s all totally up to you. Just rememberf you ever feel overwhelmed, if yo

ever feel that you need to talk to one o

us about your experiences, just phone th

neurosurgeon, day or night, or phone th



duty officer here at Desert Center. Th

base medical commander, or myself

will personally and immediately come t

ou. There will be no questions askedThe two of us, myself, and the bas

medical commander, are authorized to

use the emergency medical helicoptefor transportation. Ours is the highes

priority. We may divert the helicopter o

any other piece of transportatio

equipment we desire, from any accidenor any emergency, just to come to

wherever you are. We are ordered not to

ask you any questions! We have beenordered not to keep any records of suc

meetings. You will never be criticized

reproached, or disciplined for asking t



see either one of us. Do you understan

our orders?”

Dumbfounded and sitting there in nea

disbelief, I answered, “Yes.”He smiled. Turning at last to me, h

said, “Son, I hope to God for your sak

hat you are right. I hope you are as gooat keeping your wits about you durin

difficult times as they say you are

because you sure are going to get tested

One last thing, remember, you have name. When you are out on the ranges, i

ou are ever asked what your name is

respond by saying that you ar“teacher’s pet”. You are also known as

“the friend of the teacher”. You may also

say that you are out there on the range

because the teacher asked for you.



“I’m teacher’s pet?” I asked carefully

“Yes,” he responded. “It’s a name to

be proud of. You may tell your name to

anyone and to everyone that you wish toThe individuals, who need to know you

name, will also know you face to face

But just to be on the safe side, makcertain that you remember the name

ow time is running very short, but ther

s still time enough for you to ask me jus

one question. Is there any one questiohat you would like me to answer?”

“Yes,” I answered. “I’m looking

forward to going back up to MojavWells. I really enjoy being up there, but

was wondering, why me? There’

nothing special about me. The other guy



here at Desert Center are good weathe

observers too. Payne grew up in th

desert, and he’s completely at home ou

here. Michael grew up here in PalMeadows. He’d be an excellent choice

Then there’s that new black guy, Harris

He’s sharp and knows all of the ropes. mean, why was I chosen over sharp

well qualified guys like that?”

He sat pensively, for a minute or so

Then he answered, “I’ll tell you thruth, Charlie. For what you’re going t

be facing, you deserve the truth. Some o

he committee, like the Teacher, pickedou because they say you’re more patien

han the others. The Desert Center bas

commander picked you because they sa

ou keep your wits about you better tha



distance of 100 feet or so. I can

believe the guts you have. You jus

walked into this building, said, ‘Hello

and waited in front of the receptionisfor a complete half hour. I wouldn’t hav

believed it if I hadn’t seen it with m

own eyes.“Driving out to the gunnery ranges

alone, in the darkness, every mornin

ike you have been, and will be doing

akes a man with your kind of guts. don’t have the guts to fill any one of you

shoes. Don’t forget, anytime things ge

ough, there’s always going to bsomeone here, on the other end of th

phone.

“You’d better go, now, Charlie. They

all must be getting cold by now, and



must get them back before darknes

comes. She’ll freeze for sure if she’s ou

on a night like tonight, the way she’

dressed. It’s probably going to get dowo at least 65 degrees.”

With that the interview was over. I lef

he building by the back door as orderedand walked the mile without eve

ooking back.

The next day, the Major called me into

his office to deliver the same set oorders I’d received in th

neurosurgeon’s office. The first sergeant

Master Sergeant Walters was present. remember how intent and fatherly the

both were.

As I left the weather station to get m



belongings, my mind was still spinning.

alone could go to Mojave Wells. I had t

be alone. I would get extra pay. I had

full use of the weather truck. ThMojave Wells weather stations would

never be inspected by anyone except me

could come back to Desert Center foChristmas and Thanksgiving. No on

else would ever be sent unless I aske

Payne and Dwight to relieve me. I coul

call the commanders anytime, saanything or nothing, no records of suc

conversations would ever be kept, the

would divert the emergency medicahelicopter from any other accident o

emergency just to talk to me, and the

promised that they wouldn’t ask a singl

question about my experiences, and all



had to do in return was take five or si

weather reports every working day

starting at 4:00 a.m., from the gunner

ranges, until further notice. All I had todo was drive 22 miles, or so, out int

he desolate, deserted Mojave Well

gunnery ranges, through distant mountaipasses into distant hidden desert valleys

alone, every morning Monday throug

Friday, in the darkness of 3:15 a.m. and

measure the winds. It all seemed ssimple. It all seemed so terribly simple

t hardly seemed like the U.S Air Force.



Summer Rain

Can you raise your voice among theclouds,

or veil yourself in the waters of the

storm?

Can you send forth the lightnings on theiway,

or will they say to you, “Here we are?”

Job 38:34,35

The desert is a dry place bu

sometimes it rains. This morning I wawell rested and wide awake as I heade

my truck north into Mojave Well

Valley, past the wet sagebrush and the



dripping wet yucca plants. A late

afternoon storm had blown in the da

before. The desert exhibits a specia

beauty during a nighttime rain. I enjoyets beauty, and I found the sound of rai

on my barracks roof to be relaxing.

was in bed fast asleep by 6:30 in thevening. Consequently, it was a simpl

matter to be in my truck heading out t

range three by 1:30 a.m. the nex

morning. Some thunder had awakeneme. I was too well rested to go back t

sleep. I’ve always been a night person

and I wanted to enjoy the beauty of thnighttime desert rain. Happy, then,

urned off my alarm clock, shaved an

dressed, and headed on out to the ranges

Lightning was striking the mountains o



both sides of the valley as I carefull

brought my truck onto the Range Thre

road. I opened my window a little

urned on my headlights, heaterwindshield wipers, and settled back fo

a nice easy, quiet drive out to m

weather shack. I remember well thdrive out to Range Three that morning

The rain seemed so cold, so relaxing, s

beautiful, and so real.

I was looking forward to spendinsome time resting and reading in m

weather shack before taking the balloo

run this morning. Starting the diesegenerators was straight forward, an

once electricity was available for the fa

on my gas heater, my shack would b



warm, comfortable, and snug. Beside m

n the truck was a large jar of drinkin

water, some soda pop, and fou

sandwiches I had gotten from the chowhall the night before, in case the rai

prevented me from making it back in fo

breakfast. Beside me on my truck seaalso were some candy bars, and a thic

nteresting history book. I expected tha

my weather shack would be a nic

restful place on this cold, rainy morningThe storm covered the entire valley

and it also covered all of the mountain

on both sides. I relaxed even more. was feeling quite brave, as I drove o

hrough the rain. It was obvious to m

hat the ranges would remain close

oday. The range rats would have



pleasant day playing cards on base, i

he sheds out back of the motor poo

Because of the storm and the hour,

naturally expected to be alone out on thranges.

Soon the buildings of range thre

oomed slowly up out of the mist and thrain. I parked my truck in front of th

generator shack, left the lights on, th

engine idling, and quickly started one o

he diesel generators. I noted that all ohe fuel tanks were full, so the diese

could run for months, if necessary. Then

getting back into my truck, for protectiofrom the rain, I drove the short distanc

over to my weather shack. I turned of

he engine, and the headlights as I parke



he truck in front of my shack. In a few

short minutes, I had opened the fron

door, turned on the lights and the heater

and was well on my way to having very enjoyable morning.

When I had driven up to the rang

hree buildings, I hadn’t paid mucattention to anything except the rain. I

was dark, raining, and misty. My eye

had scanned across a large dull whit

object a half-mile or so out in the desertnorthwest of the range three lounge. I

was just barely visible through the mis

and rain, and I supposed that it was jusanother part of the storm. After all, I wa

expecting nothing but desert out there.

When I drove out to the ranges,

seldom took the trouble to look al



around. I seldom looked in all of th

buildings, before going on about m

business, but once in a while I did

Those mornings when I did investigateusually everything was obviousl

deserted, but some mornings wer

different. Some mornings the hiddeareas would give forth sounds, bumps

flurries of activity, and dull, whit

fluorescent glows that sped off into th

desert, stopping to watch me from afarOne morning I tripped over a jackrabbit

so I supposed that all of the sights an

sounds were due to rabbits, dreams, eyproblems, or maybe loneliness. Thi

morning, because of the storm, I saw n

need to check the lounge, the tower, and



he other hidden areas out at range three

The rain was heavy. The night was dark

The mist was everywhere. It seemed a

f I were the only creature on God’green Earth with any reason to be out o

he ranges on a night like this.

Entering my weather shack, I turned ohe lights, started my gas heater, turned

on my radio, closed the front doo

behind me, and opened wide my sid

door. Then I got my papers and my othehings ready for the morning balloon run

Even though the balloon release wasn

scheduled for almost three hours, nflated the balloon. I reasoned that

might be raining too hard at 4:30 to mak

he balloon run. However, if I had m

balloon ready, and there was a break i



he storm before then, I could release th

balloon early, and still get a useable se

of winds. It was a good plan, but

required that I periodically check thprogress of the storm-a simple task fo

an experienced weather observer lik

myself. It was a steady rain, and iwasn’t very windy, so I left my sid

door open and my front door closed.

Now that everything was in readiness

checked the rain outside, and settledown to the next chapter in my American

History book. The chapter I was reading

described how the family of settlers ihe 1800s, had first entered Mojav

Wells valley from the north. It described

how they had brought their wagons dow



his very valley, apparently passin

close to the spot where my weathe

shack stood, and continued down to th

actual springs now named MojavWells. I found the chapter engrossing

and time slipped away on me.

As I sat there reading and wonderinwhat the days of the old west might hav

been like, an image of how the settler

might have looked as they walked by thi

spot in the desert, formed in my mindThe image was pleasant and relaxing. I

my mind’s eye, I imagined myself sittin

on one of the ledges in the mountains the northeast, watching them as they an

heir wagons traveled down the Mojav

Wells valley. I found myself wondering

how the settlers would have felt if the



had known that they were being watche

from afar. Then, in my mind’s eye,

magined that I could see them sittin

and eating around a campfire at nightust a mile or so from this spot, whil

some curious, non-threatening totall

chalk white woman out in the desertcircled around them, watching thei

every move. I began feeling as thoug

he image was real, accurate, an

ntentionally communicated to me bsome woman who had actually sat o

one of the mountain ledges to th

northeast, watching the settlers from distance. I became annoyed with myself

since my purpose had been to educat

myself, not to daydream. With muc



effort, I finally forced the images fro

my mind. The images kept coming back

so, to get control of myself, I turned t

one of the later chapters on the history ohe city of Seattle.

Putting the book down at last, I turne

suddenly towards the open side doobehind me, and peered out into the mis

and the heavy rain. My intention ha

been to check the progress of the storm

Consequently, my eyes immediatelcame to rest on a thick, rectangular, dul

white patch of mist located no more tha

30 feet out in the desert. The patcappeared to be some 6 or 7 feet tall, an

5 or 6 feet wide. Sitting in my well-l

shack, my eyes weren’t used to lookin

out into the rainy darkness



Consequently, I wasn’t surprised when i

appeared to float away silently to th

south. At the time, however, I was lef

wondering. It appeared to be too closeand far too solid to be a patch of cloud

or rain, and the storm was movin

owards the north. Most of all, I couldnshake off the impression that it had bee

standing there, out in the rain, watchin

me, before it had drifted away into th

wind.Since I hadn’t checked the weathe

outside for some time, I decided to g

outside into the rain and take a gooook around. Stepping outside throug

my side door, I gingerly strode around to

he front of my shack. I made a lot o



noise as I did-so at least the rabbit

were scared. It was muddy outside, an

he clouds were so low that there woul

have been little use in releasing thballoon. The rain was so heavy I coul

ust barely make out the lounge building

he control tower, and the rangbillboards. The low clouds obscured th

ops of the building. The Range Thre

outhouse, which stood out in the deser

o the north, was totally obscured by thrain. However, the large white mist

patch had returned. Now it was floatin

out in the sagebrush, a few inches off thdesert, less than 50 feet from me, out i

he skip bomb practice area to th

northeast. I studied it intently for fiftee

minutes or so. I became certain that th



white patch in the rain was watching m

back. In any event, whatever it was, i

had made me very curious. It floate

here relatively motionless, even thoughe storm continued to drift by. I decided

o walk over to where it was, and get

closer look. Yet, as I walked towards it couldn’t seem to close the 50 feet or s

which separated it from me. I steppe

across the cable into the skip bomb area

and walked slowly towards it. Feelinquite foolish, and beginning to fee

apprehensive, I called out to it, “I

anyone out there? Who are you? Do yoneed help? What do you want?”

There was no response. It continued t

fall back away from me, always in tota



silence. Soon I had followed it a grea

distance out into the tall sagebrus

northeast of the graveled area, and th

ights of my weather shack werbecoming very dim in the rain behin

me. The rain let up momentarily as I wa

ooking back towards the range threbuildings, now more than 400 feet away

To my surprise, it appeared that th

ights in the range three lounge were on

Both rooms in the lounge were fillewith a soft white fluorescent light tha

flooded out through the open doorwa

and the large glass windowslluminating the cement walkway i

front. A 7 foot tall misty fluorescen

white patch floated by the northeas

corner of the building, and it seemed t



be always staying between me and th

cement walkway out front. Two mor

misty fluorescent white patches could b

vaguely seen through the rain, floatinslowly from the lounge out into th

desert towards the northwest, all i

perfect silence.“For an empty deserted buildin

sitting 22 miles out in the desert, ther

sure is some party going on,” I muttere

o myself. As the rain closed back inobscuring my view of the Range Thre

ounge, the problem finally forced it

way into my cold rain soakeconsciousness. I felt a certain momentar

shock as I remembered replacing a 100

watt light bulb in the Range Thre



ounge a few weeks before. At that time

’d checked all of the lights. I wa

certain the Range Three lounge didn

use fluorescent lights.Deciding that I had gone as far into th

desert on this rainy, stormy evening, a

common sense would allow, I turned anstarted walking slowly back towards th

graveled area. The white patch als

urned, and for a time it followed m

back, always maintaining the 50 feedistance between us. As I was reachin

he cable fence, it finally floated slowl

off, disappearing at last, in statelfashion, into the dark rainy mists

hundred feet or so to the north. The rai

was getting steadily worse, and by now

was wet and cold. I slogged back acros



he gravel to the cozy warmth of m

stove and my weather shack.

When finally I arrived back in m

shack. I warmed myself by the stove. eft the side door open for fresh air an

returned to reading my history book. As

reread the chapter on the history of thdiscovers of Death Valley, I noticed tha

his time my mind was not flooded wit

mages of settlers and wagons, as it ha

been before. The change was quitdramatic and I spent a few minute

wondering why. It was the same book. I

was the same night. It was the same meOnly now when I looked out the sid

door into the dark rainy mists, there wa

no white patch. I checked m



hinking, so the communication woul

have to work both ways. Then there wa

he question of its motives. The whit

patch’s only possible motive wouldhave been that it had wanted to entertai

me, or to play with me in a childish

fashion. Logic no longer was thproblem. Whatever the logic of th

situation was, I just couldn’t accept th

reality of the obvious conclusions.

I closed the book, and put it back ohe shelf in front of me. My mind was no

up for reading anymore. I had to decid

f the white patch had been real, if it hantentionally come out here to enjoy th

beauty of the night rainstorm, as I had, o

f it was just a drifting patch of mist an



rain. I turned off my radio, and decide

o just sit quietly in my chair, looking ou

he side door, into the cold, dark rain

mists. I wondered if the white patcwould return. After waiting 20 minute

or so, my patience was rewarded. Abou

30 feet out in the desert, the white patcslowly floated back into view in tota

silence. This time it floated in from th

southeast. It blended in so well with th

darkness, the mists, and the rain that wasn’t at first sure that it had returned

Once again I spoke to it, calling ou

oudly, “Is that you? Whoever you arewhat are you? What do you want? You

frighten me. I’m only a weathe

observer. I only come out here because

have to report the weather to Deser



Center. What do you want? Why are you

watching me?”

Again there was no response. Th

only sound was the sound of the colheavy rain falling steadily on the roof o

my weather shack. Standing up slowly

and still wondering if I wasn’t jusalking to the rain, I decided to ste

outside and try to get a better view of it

As I did so, I spoke to whatever it was

“Don’t worry. I won’t hurt you. Youfrighten me. I just want to see what yo

are.” Yet it made no difference. As

stepped down from the side doorwanto the mud outside, once again

floated slowly away from me. Again i

retreated out into the desert, this tim



down towards the southeast. The rai

was lighter in that direction. It wasn

until the white patch was some 200 fee

from me that it finally disappeared ounto the darkness, the rain, and the mists

Still, my mind wouldn’t let me accep

he reality of what I had just seen. “Imust be the rain,” I said to myself ou

oud. “It must just be something to d

with the rain.”

I went back into the warmth of mshack, and sat down to think abou

hings. Then I remembered the whit

patch that I had seen vaguely through thrain as I had driven up to the range thre

buildings. I wondered if it was stil

here. This patch had been much large

han the one I had just seen. It had bee



he size of a building larger than th

range three lounge. I decided to driv

over there. Maybe that large white patc

was still out there. I went out to my trucparked in front of my weather shack. Tr

as I would, it just wouldn’t start. Eve

hough its V8 engine was in perfecworking order, and the battery was new

and fully charged, it behaved as thoug

he battery was totally dead. Swearing t

myself, I got out of my truck, out into thcold hard rain. I decided to walk over t

he northwest, towards where I had see

he large white patch. There were noutside lights on, and my flashlight wa

my only companion. Now my flashligh

and the new spare batteries I alway



carried with me, failed too. Undaunte

by these startling developments

continued walking slowly through th

darkness and the rain towards thwestern edge of the graveled area. Whe

reached the edge of the thin sagebrus

on the western side, I decided I hacome as far from the warmth of m

weather shack as made sense. I wante

o continue on, out into the sagebrus

owards the northwest, and I waswearing to myself because my usuall

dependable truck hadn’t started

Common sense dictated that it wouldnbe safe for me to go any further. I stood

here, in the driving rain, by the edge o

he sagebrush, for 15 or 20 minutes

studying the darkness in front of me. M



vision was perfect, and I found m

conclusion somewhat unnerving.

There was no question about it

Something large and white was parkeess than a quarter mile out in a smal

depression in the desert, parked ou

here in the darkness, in the mists, and ihe rain. Smaller fluorescent whit

patches, some only 3 or 4 feet tall

others 5 and 7 feet tall woul

periodically float between this largwhite object and the Range Thre

ounge. I was certain that my conclusio

was correct. Yet, the shock of it alsomehow prevented me from full

grasping the situation I had accidentall

stumbled into. Between the large whit



object and me, some 70 feet or so i

front of me, floated another 7 foot tal

misty white rectangular patch. I

appeared to be similar to the first, onlhis one refused to fall back when

stepped forward.

Feeling cold, and wet, and noticeablafraid to go any further, I quickl

retraced my steps back to the warmth o

my weather shack. Once inside, I notice

hat my flashlight was now workinperfectly again. My spirits were buoye

by this discovery, and my fears bega

subsiding. I decided to try my trucagain and it too now started perfectly

After revving the engine for a few

minutes, and convincing myself that

would start again, I shut it off and go



back out into the cold hard rain. It wa

now going on 4:00 a.m. The rain wa

subsiding, and I decided that I would b

able to release the balloon on schedulat 4:30. As I was standing there

checking the progress of the storm, onc

again I noticed the first white patch. Thiime it was floating in the rain, ove

behind the range three billboards

Feeling braver, now, believing that my

ruck would start again, I decided tonce again close on the small whit

patch. I still wondered what it could be

Keeping the range boards between mand the white patch, I walked quickly t

he north, toward the western end of th

range billboards. It didn’t seem to know



hat I was coming. I closed the distanc

as fast and as quietly as I could withou

actually running. Coming even with th

western end of the range billboards, nowsome 10 feet from me, I was finally abl

o see into the misty fluorescent whit

patch which floated in the heavy rain ohe other side. The rain didn’t seem t

actually fall into the white fluorescen

area, but rather, the rain appeared to jus

fall in streamlined patterns around it. Meyes hurt when I looked into th

fluorescent white light, and I could loo

nto it for only a few seconds. It reacteo my presence almost immediately

Standing there in the white fluorescen

mist was a chalk white woman-lik

creature, very thin, maybe 6 feet tal



clad in what appeared to be a

aluminum-canvas suit, with an ope

helmet, and aluminum like gloves an

boots. The creature felt pleasanfriendly, fully-grown, and totall

feminine; but it didn’t actually fee

human. Instead, it felt as though I waooking at a beautiful feminine anima

such as a horse. I was stunned by the fac

hat as I looked at it, I felt the same as

had felt when the images of a beautifuwhite woman studying the settler

passing through the Mojave Well

valley, had flooded through my brain. Imy mind, she seemed to be laughing an

easing me in a friendly girlish manner

She seemed to be laughing, “Now tha



ou’ve caught me, Charlie, what are yo

going to do with me?” Then, stil

aughing, she retreated from me

disappearing once again, out into thdarkness, and out into the cold hard rain

out into the empty desert to the northeast

all in total silence.“Am I still sane?” I grimly muttered t

myself. I stood there in the rain for

ong time, in numbed shock, denial, an

disbelief.After a long time, the cold hard rai

falling on my face brought me back to m

senses. Grimly, I turned, and trudgedback through the rain, toward m

weather shack. I couldn’t accept th

reality of what I had just seen. I decide

hat I must be dreaming, or going nuts.



decided that the best thing for me to d

would be to just release my weathe

balloon, take my measurements, phon

Desert Center with the results, and heaback to base. Without further ado,

unlocked my theodolite, removed th

protective cover, got my balloon frommy weather shack and released it. Then

began taking the wind measurements. A

had expected, after less than 2 minute

of flight, the balloon disappeared inthe base of the rain clouds. It meant th

run was over. I covered and locked m

heodolite, collected my things, anrudged back to my shack.

The calculations took only a minute o

so. The phone to Desert Center had lot



of static, but worked sufficiently

Reading my report to the Desert Cente

night shift observer went by in a flash

The observer gave me the happy newshe Desert Center Base Commander ha

decided that no weather reports from th

Mojave Wells gunnery ranges should beaken today, including the one I was jus

phoning in. “Great,” I muttered t

myself, as I hung up the phone. “Isn’t tha

ust like the military. I come out herearly, go through three hours of God

knows what-all, just to take two win

measurements which they throw in thwastepaper basket!”

With a practiced hand, I turned off m

stove, secured my radio, turned off m

ights, and locked up my weather shack



Then I started my truck, and turned o

my headlights. Since I wouldn’t b

coming back out again today, I decided

o check the rain cover on my theodolitone last time. I pulled my truck u

alongside the theodolite stand and lef

he engine running, and the headlights ongot out and double checked everything

had just finished doing so when

ooked up in the direction of the Rang

Three lounge. Floating there in the raisome 50 feet away from me, just out o

he edge of my truck’s headlights wa

once again, the seven foot talfluorescent white patch. Occasionally

between the waves of cold rain, I coul

make out the image of a thin, tall, chal



white man, standing there inside of th

fluorescent patch, intently watching me.

was suddenly struck by the way h

seemed to anticipate my every move. Hobviously intended to block any rout

hat I might take, were I to decide t

walk over to the Range Three lounge annspect the fluorescent lights inside.

For an instant, I stood frozen in fear

n the driving rain, watching his ever

move as he watched mine. The two ous, were obviously of a kind, protectin

he doorway between two differen

worlds, worlds that connected out thern the night. He was forced to defend hi

world, as I was forced to defend mine

His defense required that he confron

me, but for me, I had a much simple



defense. I could pretend that he wasn

real. I could retreat. I could back slowl

away from the doorway. I wasn’

protecting anything physical. I didnhave to block anyone’s path. I wa

protecting only my own happ

nnocence. I could think about God anHis love. I could call on God for help.

could cry out suddenly, in a momentar

error, “Not out here! Not out here in th

rain!” Then I could break and run. Mdefense allowed me so many ways t

deny the white mist’s reality, and the

reality of the tall white man standinnside.

I turned aside and refused to look i

his direction. Then I convinced mysel



hat he wasn’t there at all. Suppressin

my momentary panic, I began my retreat

Carefully, I got back into my truck.

backed away from the white patch androve over to the generator shack

Leaving the truck engine running and th

ights on, and in total denial, I hurriedlshut down the diesel and quickl

returned to the innocent safety of m

ruck, locking the truck doors after I ha

gotten back inside. I was relieved whe glanced back and saw that the whit

patch hadn’t followed me, hadn

pursued. As I brought the truck back ontohe pavement, shifted into high gear, and

headed back on into town, I breathe

several deep sighs of relief. I was now

n the business of protecting myself.



was now in the business of pretending t

myself that I was alone when I was ou

on the ranges. I was now in the busines

of pretending to myself that I was God’only intelligent creature that enjoyed th

beauty of a nighttime desert storm. I wa

now in the business of pretending thahe white patches, which I had seen ou

here in the rain, weren’t real. I did suc

a good job of pretending that as I drov

on into base, I turned off my windshielwipers. I began singing one of my mad

up sunshine songs. “.Oh, God, don’t le

he rain come down., “and I proceedeo pretend that even the cold hard rain

even the very storm itself, wasn’t real.



All That a Man Has

. . . Once again, the sons of God cameto present themselves before the Lord,

and Satan also came among them.

And the Lord said to Satan,“Whence do you come?”

Then Satan answered The Lord and said“From roaming the earth and patrolling

it.”

And the Lord said to Satan,“Have you noticed my servant Job… ?”

And Satan answered the Lord and said,



“Skin for Skin,

all that a man has,

will he givefor his life…

. . . Job 2:1,4

Once again I needed to go in to Deser

Center for supplies. Once again

checked out the two and a half ton trucfrom the Mojave Wells motor pool.

oaded my empty helium tanks, collecte

my log and inventory books as before

and began the long run into DeserCenter. It was a beautiful day and ther

was much to be considered. Th

ogbooks contained many entries. On



entry was from an observer name

McPherson. Four years before, he ha

written, “Range #3, 0615 hours. I wa

ate phoning in the morning report. Thights came again this morning. The

came in closer than ever before.

released the morning balloon on time a0430 hours. After I took the readings,

began walking back to my weathe

shack. I thought I got a glimpse of som

child playing in the weather shack. Thethought I saw some adult step out fro

he alley by the supply sheds, and poin

something at me. I don’t know what was doing for the next hour and te

minutes. The range #3 area seem

deserted now, but I’m terrified of thi

place.”



When I reached the supply depot a

Desert Center, I parked my truck, wen

nside, and checked out my supplies. Th

chief master sergeant was waiting to talwith me. This time he greeted me with

smile and a friendly manner. Once agai

we took seats at the nearby table. Thsergeant turned towards me and asked

“What do you think is going on up a

Mojave Wells, Charlie? I knew all o

hose men who served up there beforou. That’s how I proudly earned thes

eight stripes-by keeping in touch with th

men and making certain they had thsupplies they needed whenever the

needed them.

The gunnery ranges up there ar



beautiful places. Driving out onto th

ranges and reporting the winds on a nic

day like today, is a fine job. All you

have to do is drive out into the beautifudesert sunshine and release a balloo

five times a day. It beats the crap out o

sitting around a dirty warehouse likhis, working indoors in the dust an

fumes. Out there you’re free. There ar

no officers or sergeants to give a ma

any crap. What I want to know is: Whwould 59 men before you, each in hi

urn, desert the ranges? Why would the

do such a thing? You’ve been up therefor quite a few weeks now. You’ve

already taken more wind measurement

han all of the observers before you, an

ou’re still going out there. What is



hat ran all of the others off the ranges

but hasn’t bothered you?”

“I don’t know, Sergeant,” I responded

Looking over the records, hcontinued, “The only observer who wa

anywhere close to your supply request

was that observer several years ago wita drinking problem. Yet he requisitioned

ess than one third of the quantity h

should have been requesting. He and

shared a beer now and then, down at thAirman’s club. He always swore that h

stayed stone sober when he was up at th

Wells. He told me that if he had even asingle drink and went out onto th

ranges, he’d start seeing things. Thing

ike distant lights and chalk whit



people, little children with claws tha

floated up around the rocks and cliff

and stuff. One time he claimed that h

had seen a radioactive horse he calleRange Four Harry’.

“He wasn’t the only one to claim tha

either. Dozens of those other observerwould come in here and tell me th

weirdest stories. They used to claim tha

a man would have to give up his ver

sanity, just to stay alive for even onnight out there on the ranges. But yo

know Charlie, I never paid any attentio

o those stories until you opened my eyewith these supply requests.”

“Do you remember an observer name

McPherson?” I asked.

“Yes, the sergeant responded. “



remember him well. He was a staf

sergeant, a four striper. He was anothe

one that used to tell me more of thos

stories,” answered the sergeant.“How so?” I asked.

“I remember the first day he came i

here. He was on his second enlistmentHe’d just made staff sergeant. He was s

proud of those four stripes. He wa

elling me how he was going to do

better job up at the ranges than any mabefore him. He checked out 50 balloons

2 tanks of helium, some office supplies

and 500 blank forms. Then just threweeks later, he came in here looking lik

a whipped dog. He was so nervous an

edgy. He would have fainted if I had



wondered why he needed another 500 s

soon. I mean, 1000 blank forms in onl

hree weeks is a lot of forms.

“McPherson explained that the otheblank forms were out in the range thre

weather shack. He needed these new

forms to keep with him in his barracksSo I asked him why he didn’t just driv

out to range three and pick up a coupl

hundred or so of the other forms. I

seemed to me that would beat drivinway down here, just for more forms.

“But McPherson didn’t see it that way

He told me that he had abandoned all ohe range weather shacks. He wouldn

go out onto the ranges again, even if th

Air Force were to court martial him. H



almost touched it. He became hysterica

and left the ranges in a panic. H

wouldn’t drive back out there again

even to pick up his personal belongingsMcPherson finished that one TDY and

mmediately put in for a transfer.”

The sergeant took a sip of coffee ancontinued, “Then there was Jackson. H

was a tech sergeant, a five striper on hi

hird enlistment. He was a black ma

who had grown up in the slums oChicago. You know he had to be one

ough soldier. They sent him up ther

because the guy before him had run intsomething out on range four and ha

gotten burned real bad. He said the firs

couple of days he was up there, h



worked like a dog and took all of th

balloon runs as scheduled. Then on th

hird day, just after breakfast, as he wa

releasing the balloon, he said that threof them stepped out from behind th

range three lounge. I guess it was tw

men and a woman dressed up white asheets. It scared him. He was afraid the

might be members of some white racis

group. He said they just stood ther

watching him, as though they wanted talk to him from a distance.

Well, I tell you, Charlie, Jackson took

out of there and he hasn’t been back tMojave Wells since.

“Then there was Taylor. He was a

oung Airman First. The day he came i

here four years ago, all he wanted wa



some ink pens and forms. He was rea

nervous and cagey. I was trying to brea

he ice, so I asked him if he’d ever see

anything unusual up there. He turnewhite as a sheet. He said he always kep

a sharp lookout, trying to make sure tha

nothing surprised him, the way it had thothers. He said on the third morning h

was up there, he was taking the mornin

run out at range three. He hear

something behind him. He turned aroundStanding there was Range Four Harry

smiling at him, big as life. He said h

screamed in terror and took off runninfor town. Taylor claimed that as he left

he could hear old Harry laughing at him

as though all Harry wanted to do wa



prove he could surprise him. Taylor wa

another one that would never go back up

o Mojave Wells again.”

“But none of those men were eveactually threatened were they?” I asked.

“No,” replied the sergeant. “But the

were all terrified just the same. Some ohe other weather observers, however

have been attacked and burned, out ther

on the ranges. Several of them have bee

given medical discharges.” Then turnino me, the sergeant continued, “How

about you, Charlie. I want to know wh

ou’ve lasted when they didn’t. In thweeks you’ve been out there, ha

anything like that ever happened to you

Why haven’t you become frightened

oo?”



“I wouldn’t say I was any braver tha

hose men,” I responded. The ranges ca

be mighty scary, especially at night. I’v

seen lots of unusual things, but nothinhas frightened me so bad that I couldn

say my prayers, shrug it off, trust God t

protect me, and carry on with morders.”

“Things? What things?” asked th

sergeant.

“Well, I’ve seen those lights way uphe valley. They seem to be intelligentl

controlled as McPherson reported. I’v

seen them coming part way down throad which connects range four wit

range three. But so far, they’ve bee

stopping quite a ways off, before the



get to range three.”

“Do you see them often?” asked th

sergeant.

“Yes,” I answered. “On most nights first see them way up on the northwes

side of Mojave Wells valley, between

about 11:30 p.m. and 1:00 a.m. Therare always five or six of them. Usuall

hey float down towards the buildings a

range four. They play around the rang

four buildings for a while and sometimecome down the road towards range thre

where I am. Then they go back up th

valley just before sunrise. At first themade me a little edgy, but then

shrugged it off. ‘Life’s too short,’ I said

to be scared.’ They obviously know I’m

out here. If they wanted to hurt me, the



would have done it by now.’”

“I see you’re a different young ma

hen McPherson was,” Stated th

sergeant matter-of-factly.“Then there’s that flying train engin

which I’ve been seeing lately,”

continued. “At least that’s what it lookike. I first noticed it early last week.

was out at range three about 7:30 a.m. i

he morning. I was sitting in my weathe

shack getting the forms ready when I sawt following along the landscape up th

valley towards range four. It was thre

or four miles away at the time. It wasolid white and looked very similar t

he diesel engine on a passenger train

Of course, the sides were a lot rounde



and they molded smoothly into th

bottom. It didn’t have any wings o

wheels or anything, and it didn’t mak

any sound as it traveled. It was flyinalong about ten or twenty feet above th

sagebrush. At first I didn’t think anythin

of it. But the next morning it came bagain at the very same time, so I becam

curious. I came back out from breakfas

early. I wanted to see if it came a third

ime. Sure enough, the next day, at 7:30a.m. sharp, it appeared following th

errain through that pass in the mountain

ust a few miles northwest of the town. Ifollowed the terrain towards the eas

until it was just over the low point of th

valley. Then it terrain followed up th

valley towards range four, skirting th



buildings at range three in the process

When it got up by the range fou

buildings, it skirted around the souther

and eastern edge of the buildings. Whet was at a point about a quarter mil

southwest of the range four buildings,

paused in its flight and floated in mid aifor about thirty seconds, obviousl

studying the buildings in intelligen

fashion. The way the vehicl

maneuvered convinced me that it wantelligently controlled. Then it sped u

and terrain followed up the valle

owards the northeast. The entire flighook about five minutes. The closest

ever got to me was about a mile and

half. That day I had been watching



from inside my range three weathe

shack.

“The next day, I wanted to get a bette

ook at it. After going in for breakfast, returned to range three early, as before.

parked my truck out in the open by th

generator shack as I always do. Then stood out in the open, on the west side o

he range three lounge waiting for it. A

7:30 a.m., just as before, it appeare

errain following through that low paso the west, and began entering th

valley. But this time, it acted as though i

saw me standing there watching itWhoever was on board must have eye

as good as those of an eagle or a ca

because it was almost ten miles away a

he time. This time it appeared t



abandon its flight plan. It retreated to th

very base of the mountains along the fa

west side of the valley. Then it terrain

followed north up the valley. This time never got closer than four or five mile

from me. The next morning it starte

following a completely different pathow it enters the valley using a pas

wenty miles or so northwest of me

Then it speeds across the valley muc

faster than it used to. Now I can’t semuch of anything, so I just gave u

following it.”

The sergeant sat thinking for a minutor so. Then he spoke in fatherly tones

“On those first trips, it terrain followe

a distance of about thirty miles in les



han five minutes. That’s an averag

speed of approximately 350 miles a

hour traveling only 20 feet above th

sagebrush. That’s one awful higperformance vehicle. There’s no way th

U.S. Air Force or anyone else on thi

earth could have built it! Didn’t frighten you?”

“No, sergeant,” I responded. “Shoul

t have?”

“Yes! A vehicle like that could havecome down on you the way an eagl

comes down on a field mouse,” replie

he sergeant. “It would certainly havscared those observers before you.”

Stammering some, and off balance,

responded, “But it never got very clos

o me. A mile and a half is still a long



ways off.”

“At 350 miles an hour, it could cove

hat distance in less than 15 seconds

Charlie,” responded the sergeant. “Youwould barely have had time to fall to th

ground before it was on you.

“Tell me, Charlie, how close doedanger have to come to you personall

before you feel threatened? How clos

before you decide that your God isn

watching, and you feel forced to breaand run?”

“I don’t know sergeant,” I answere

houghtfully. “Yesterday morning theights came from up the valley again

hey way they have on so man

mornings. Yesterday, they came down



he road from range four closer then the

ever have before. At first they made m

a little nervous, but they appeared t

stop when they were still over a mildistant. I guess that distance for me i

ust over three quarters of a mile

There’s a ridge out in the desert north orange three which is just under thre

quarters of a mile. It’s about 1200 yard

out. I guess when it comes down to i

’m willing to ignore the lights, trust iGod, and go on about my business unti

he lights come closer than that ridge

until the lights come in closer than threquarters of a mile.”

“So, you believe that the God you pra

o, can’t protect you from danger if

comes closer than that ridge at thre



quarters of a mile?” asked the sergeant.

“Yes,” I answered. “I guess when i

comes down to it, that’s what I believe

but so far they’ve always stayed back ohat ridge, so I don’t believe they’l

come any closer.”

“Well, remember Charlie,” said thesergeant, “when you are standing ou

here at range three looking at the lights

hose lights are out there in the deser

ooking back at you. Whatever thosights are, they have come more than 2

miles down that valley, across gullies

sagebrush, rocks, canyons, and arroyosust to see what you are doing. They sur

are willing to close in on you. They sur

are willing to come that last 1200 yard



and confront you out in the open, face t

face, they way they confronted the me

before you.

When that night comes, I pray that youGod stands closer to you than thre

quarters of a mile.”

It was late. I thanked the sergeangratefully, loaded the supplies onto m

wo and a half ton truck, and told th

good sergeant good-bye. By now, it wa

ate in the afternoon. I was feeling slight fever and a little nausea-perhap

from the flu-or perhaps from the stress o

t all, so I decided to skip the eveninchow at Desert Center. I rested for

ittle while at the base library. Then

began the long drive back to Mojav

Wells. Night was falling as I headed



back across the Desert Center valley an

found the entrance ramp for the newl

built freeway. As I pulled onto th

freeway, I could hear the belt breakinon the truck’s generator. Having no safe

place to turn around, I decided to keep

heading towards the Wells. I hoped theruck’s battery would last long enough to

get me there. By the time I was passin

he exit to Silver Canyon, it was obviou

hat the truck’s battery was not going tobe up to the task. With the engin

misfiring and running rough, I finall

reached the rest area at the top of thgrade. The engine lasted long enough fo

me to bring the truck into the rest area

and park it along the right side of th



pavement. There it quit altogether. I too

an auto flare from out of the glov

compartment and jumped out of the truc

nto the warm early evening air. The resarea consisted of a two-lane stretch o

pavement that ran parallel to the mai

freeway for a few hundred feet. Aordinary steel chain link fence and a few

feet of desert sand were all tha

separated the main lanes from the res

anes. I raised the hood on the truckwalked back behind the truck 50 feet o

so, and lit the flare. It burned a brigh

red flame for about twenty minutes whil waited patiently for someone to stop

The flare was just burning out when

state trooper pulled into the rest are

with his lights flashing. He stopped hi



patrol car next to me, and got out. I wa

sitting on the back of the truck at th

ime.

The trooper approached me, “Gooevening soldier. Some woman who call

herself ‘The Teacher’ notified m

dispatcher that you needed help. You’renamed Charlie Baker, right?”

“Yes,” I responded. “The generato

belt on the truck gave out on me. I drov

t until the battery went dead. I neeMark from the motor pool up at Mojav

Wells to come down with the wrecke

and a new belt, to get me out of thimess.”

“Right, soldier,” replied the trooper

“That’s what the teacher said. M



dispatcher has already notified the ai

policeman, Bryan, up there. He an

Mark are getting a belt and getting th

wrecker ready now. I stopped by to leou know they were coming. They’ll b

here in a half hour or so.”

“Thanks, officer,” I responded. “have plenty of water in the truck. I’ll b

fine until then.”

The trooper got back into his squa

car, turned off the flashing lights, andheaded back out onto the highway. From

my vantage point near the top of th

grade, I could see across the valleowards the northwest and into the nex

north-south valley. Far to the northwest

could see several of the dull whit

fluorescent lights that had terrorize



McPherson so many years ago. In th

distance, they seemed to be floating o

he warm evening desert air. They also

seemed to be out unusually early thievening. As I watched, they moved i

military fashion, several miles down th

valley towards Mojave Wells. I noticeda second set of dull fluorescent whit

ights down in the valley through whic

he freeway ran. The lights wer

probably two miles away, partiallhidden down in the sagebrush margi

hat bordered a dry lakebed. There wer

five different lights down there. As watched, the lights slowly kept closin

he distance until they were less than

mile away. I felt safe enough, parked



next to a busy freeway.

My musings were cut short by th

arrival of the wrecker from Mojav

Wells. Mark took the wrecker down thehighway a shot distance before cuttin

across the central median strip. Then h

brought the big wrecker back up thfreeway to the rest area where I sa

waiting. I jumped down from the back o

my truck as he arrived, and greete

Bryan and Mark. They pulled the biwrecker the rest of the way up into th

area. Mark realized my truck’s batter

and generator were located on thpassenger side of the engine, so h

nstinctively pulled the wrecker off th

pavement to the right. He continued o

down the gravel and sagebrush on th



right shoulder, until the working part o

he wrecker was adjacent to my truck’

engine. Amid a cloud of dust and grave

and flying pieces of sagebrush, he let thwrecker roll to a stop, and turned off th

engine. I supposed he was planning t

ow my truck into the Mojave Wellmotor pool, so I took up a militar

position standing next to the fron

bumper of my truck on the driver’s side

remained standing upright, a foot or saway from my truck, to the left of m

ruck’s front bumper. Because of the dus

and gravel kicked up by the wrecker, stood facing the freeway, hoping to

protect my face and eyes from th

debris. Mark, however, an excellen



mechanic, announced his intention t

replace the generator belt right wher

he truck stood. I stood listening to him

watching a new Cadillac on the freewaas it approached the entrance to the res

area. It appeared to be traveling muc

faster than the other traffic. I stood therransfixed as the Cadillac left th

freeway and entered the rest are

without so much as letting up on the gas

The Cadillac appeared to be traveling amore than 80 miles an hour. I stood

stationary, exposed, stunned, in shock, i

he path of the oncoming car, unable tomove a single muscle as the Cadilla

barreled down on me. While I stoo

ransfixed, the Cadillac drove past me a

perhaps 80 miles an hour, missing m



body parts by no more than ¾ of an inch

ess than the length of any one of m

fingers. The realization of what had jus

happened was slow in flooding over meot a single hair anywhere on my bod

had been touched. Not a single thread o

cloth anywhere on my cloths had beeouched. The polish on my leathe

military shoes had not been so much a

dulled. Yet the car had passed me so

close that I was at first unable to believt had missed me. For a few minutes

stood there, still transfixed, wondering i

t was just my soul that was standinhere waiting for God, and believing tha

perhaps my earthly body, now dead, wa

being dragged off by the speeding car. I



wasn’t until my eyes had intensel

searched every square inch on the fron

hood of the retreating car, searching fo

patches of my blood and pieces of mvarious body parts, and finding none

hat I finally realized I was still aliv

and untouched. For me alone, God hastepped out from behind the mist an

answered the good sergeant’s question

“How close could danger come befor

God could no longer protect me?” I feas though God, in person, was standin

here beside me, next to me on my right

smiling, laughing, confidently chidinme, “Silly Charlie. You thought I needed

hree quarters of a mile. Ha, ha, ha…

See-I don’t even need three quarters o

an inch.”



Catching my breath at last, I steppe

back away from the open lane in the res

area, my mind grappling with the trut

hat God had just shown me. Mconcentration was broken by the soun

of my truck engine roaring to life. Mar

had obviously completed the repairs anwas testing the engine. I hurried over t

he truck door and began thanking hi

and Bryan profusely. Neither Mark no

Bryan, however, would take any praiseMark, jumping from the truck, shoute

over the roar of the engine, “The bes

way you can thank me, Charlie, is if yocan get this truck unloaded and back t

he motor pool by 7:00 a.m. tomorrow

morning. The sergeant who runs th



Mojave Wells Airman’s Club needs it to

get supplies from Desert Cente

omorrow, like you did today. We’ll al

be put out if you keep him waiting.”I could hardly refuse. Late as it was,

promised Mark that I would unload th

supplies at range three tonight, anreturn the truck to the motor pool befor

sunrise.

I had just barely finished speakin

when the sudden movement of the lightdown in the valley caught my eye. Now

hey were moving intently back acros

he distant dry lakebed. I climbed intmy truck, placed it in low gear, and

begin pulling back out onto the freeway

glanced over at the distant lights dow

n the valley as I did so. The lights wer



retreating rapidly across the valle

owards the northwest. I thought nothin

of it at the time, but the lights wer

retreating back towards the buildings arange three many miles in the distance.

Mark and Bryan followed me for

few miles to make certain the truck warunning properly. Then they hit the ga

and sped on past me, heading back int

Mojave Wells. I was already plenty

ired and driving slowly. It had been ong day. I found myself wishing I could

get a cup of coffee and a hamburge

somewhere. Everything in Mojave Wellwas closed when I got there. I had t

make do with several cans of cola and

few bags of corn chips from the vendin



machines outside the administratio

building-not much in the way o

nutrition, but I needed something. Afte

giving the matter careful thought, decided that my best bet would be t

deliver the supplies out to my weathe

shack at range three before turning inThen I could sleep the rest of the nigh

on the comfortable floor of my weathe

shack, take the 4:30 a.m. run, and retur

he big truck to the motor pool beforbreakfast. It seemed like such a goo

dea. The fact that I would be spendin

he entire night alone out on the rangesout where the so many observers befor

me, had refused to venture in broa

daylight-never crossed my mind.

As I headed the truck out into th



desert towards range three, the cloc

was running towards 11:00 p.m. I wa

already having trouble staying awake a

he wheel. By the time I arrived at ranghree, I was much too tired to notic

anything. The dull white fluorescen

ights coming towards me from a mile oso down to the south east, the second se

waiting over by the mountains to th

northeast, the third set converging on m

from the sagebrush a couple of miles ofo the northwest, the lights now showin

hemselves down towards the southwes

by the range three gate, did nothing talarm me. I parked the big truck with it

headlights shining into the generato

shack. I left the lights on and the engin



running as I stumbled out of the truck an

opened the door to the generator shack

Tired as I was, I flooded the generator’

diesel engine with the ether startinfluid. I counted myself lucky when th

diesel finally started, but it took a while

The pounding diesel didn’t help mconcentration any. It took me a

unusually long while to complete th

electrical adjustments. Tired, now, and

edgy, I stumbled back out through thopen shack door, towards the waitin

ruck. The truck’s headlights o

something fluorescent white blinded msuddenly as I came out through the doo

of the generator shack. Somethin

seemed to touch me momentarily, on o

nside my right temple. I got a brie



glimpse of something chalk white behin

me and on my right. The muscles in m

stomach tightened suddenly. It felt like

ook a sharp blow down low in my guts missed a step in the doorway.

stumbled and went down on the har

sharp gravel, falling on my hands and omy knees. My mind fuzzed over an

stayed fuzzed over for what seemed lik

a long minute or so. I found it hard t

focus on much of anything. Several chalwhite people seemed to be standin

around me, talking to each other in quie

and whispered tones. One of them, oung woman, was saying, “You mus

speak English. He is the weathe

observer. His name is Charlie Baker. He



speaks only English.” Another, a young

man, was saying, “He is very tired. You

must readjust your electronics. He wil

remember this for sure. Be careful wheou are around him. If he becomes mor

ired, none of our electronics will hav

he slightest effect on him.”When my mind finally cleared,

swore some, blamed the whole episod

on breathing too much of the ethe

starting fluid, and brushed off mscrapes. I carefully began getting bac

up. I noticed that I was not getting u

from exactly the same place to which had previously fallen. That spot wa

clearly marked by my handprints, an

some bloodstains. That spot was 3 fee

or so off to my left. The place I wa



getting up from was a softer place.

paused for a minute to consider m

situation. Something seemed terribly ou

of place. I glanced at my watch. It hastopped for some reason, even though

had been running when I had entered th

generator shack. I was used to the rangeand used to being alone in the night.

was also used to trusting my feelings

Something felt terribly wrong. It took m

ired mind a minute or so to figure ouwhat it was. Finally it came to me.

became certain that I wasn’t alone

There seemed to be some tall, whitperson, hidden behind the glare of m

ruck’s headlights. Slowly I returned to

my feet, and carefully retreated until m



back was up against the wall of th

generator shack. “Is anyone there?”

called loudly out into the darkness. “I

here anyone out there?” There was nanswer.

I waited a few minutes. My min

cleared. The fluorescence seemed tretreat silently into the desert to th

west. Blinded by the headlights as I was

couldn’t get a good look at it. I decide

hat I would be better off if concentrated more on my work and les

on worrying about things in the night. S

shrugged off my fears, and decided thamy mind must just be playing tricks o

me.

I cautiously returned to the safety o

my truck and placed it in gear. Then



began slowly maneuvering the truck ove

he soft rough ground and through th

mesquite behind my weather shack. Th

moonlight was bright and the truck’headlights cast unusual shadows throug

he mesquite. Concentrating on m

driving, I paid no attention to the twdull white fluorescent lights, previousl

hidden by the mesquite that wen

speeding off towards the southeast.

The truck was heavily loaded withelium cylinders. It took all of m

concentration and several tries before

finally got the big truck through the thicmesquite and backed up to the rear doo

of my weather shack. It was hardl

perfect but when I had it sitting at a 3



degree angle to the back door, I called i

good. I was already too tired to struggl

any further with the heavy steerin

wheel. After killing the engine, I jumpedout onto the soft dirt. With a practiced

hand I unlocked and opened all three o

he doors to my weather shack, turned ohe light and the radio, and reset m

watch. It apparently had been stoppe

for twenty minutes while I was in th

generator shack, or on the grounoutside. Then I slumped into my chair t

rest a minute, nurse my wounds, an

enjoy the cool evening breeze that swepgently through the open doors. I trie

calling the Desert Center weathe

station. It had an observer on dut

around the clock. I wanted to request



wake up call at 3:30 a.m. The line wa

heavy with static, making the phon

useless. I sat for a minute wonderin

why. It was a beautiful warm summenight with a nice moon. There was n

obvious reason for the phon

connections to be messed up.I sat resting for a while longer

istening to the radio. The music wa

soft and dreamy, although it too had

great deal of static. Out back of mshack I could hear something movin

quietly in the night. I supposed that

was probably just some sagebrush oumbleweeds blowing in the gentl

evening winds. In the center of my desk

right out in the open, lay my favorit



pencil-the one that had been missing fo

several weeks. Tired and alread

sleepy, I gratefully picked it up withou

hinking and returned it to its normaposition in my desk drawer. I was jus

closing the drawer when my min

stumbled across what had just happenedand I was numbed back int

consciousness. The pencil could no

possibly have lain in that obvious ope

position every day for the last fewweeks. I had, after all, searched high an

ow for it. Getting to my feet and settlin

myself down, I decided I should forgeabout the pencil’s reappearance, and ge

he truck unloaded as quickly a

possible. I put on the heavy leather wor

gloves which I kept in the shack



removed my fatigue cap and placed

neatly on top of my wind plotting table

Then I set about the business at hand.

It was obvious that unloading the biruck was going to be an extremel

difficult task. Each steel helium tank wa

5 feet 8 inches tall and weighed morhan I did. I began by unloading the ligh

stuff, the boxes of balloons, the batterie

and lights, the blank weather forms, an

he other office supplies. There were aeast three dozen boxes. It took a goo

many trips between the cab of my truc

and the weather shack to get it all. piled the supplies on my desk, on m

wind plotting table, on my empt

shelves, and anywhere else I had room



Without thinking much about it, I noticed

hat my fatigue cap was now missing.

shrugged, and supposed that it ha

probably fallen somewhere on the floor looked high and low for it, but to n

avail. I couldn’t find it anywhere.

sucked in a deep breath, ate a few corchips, and took quick drink of cola. The

set about the exhausting task o

unloading the 12 helium cylinders. Firs

had to set up a makeshift ramp from thhigh back platform of the truck down t

he soft ground. Then I had to set up

second makeshift ramp from the sofground up to the back door of my shack

For this I had several long thick 8-inc

wide planks. I kept these planks store

over in the alley between the storag



sheds. They were extremely heavy.

didn’t relish the thought of dragging the

nto position. Singing to myself, wit

feelings of fatigue already laying heavon me, I went out the back door of m

shack, and trudged over across the sof

sandy dirt to that alley way. The moonwas bright, so I didn’t think much abou

he soft white fluorescent light that wa

glistening from between the buildings.

was watching the ground as I walked, s was unprepared for the sight tha

confronted me as I rounded the corner o

he building. Standing there about 20 feeaway, looking directly at me, was

solid white human like woman. She ha

solid chalk white skin, large blue eyes



and blonde hair. She had a flat non

protruding nose and similar flat ears

She was wearing a pleasant expressio

on her face. She was my height, 5' 11She had a boyish figure and she wa

much thinner than most human women

On each hand, she had only four fingersThe gloves she wore suggested that sh

had 2-inch long claws. She was wearin

an aluminized canvas chalk white jump

suit with an open, white, motorcycle-likhelmet. The suit and the helmet emitted

field of soft white fluorescent light tha

was perhaps 3 inches deep. The lighwasn’t particularly bright, but it hurt m

eyes to look into it. Three or four feet i

front of her, was a little girl who

appeared to be her daughter. He



daughter’s eyes were larger i

proportion to her face than her mother’s

Her daughter also wore a solid whit

suit and helmet. The little girl wafloating some 3 or 4 feet above th

ground, and remained stationar

watching me.I had obviously surprised the two o

hem. However, tired as I was, I did no

conclude that they were actually rea

With the little girl floating directlabove the heavy planks which I ha

come for, it was an easy matter for me to

decide that my mind was playing trickon me. For that reason, I was no

actually afraid. I decided that I must b

ust experiencing the effects of th



fatigue which was rapidly overtakin

me-and maybe the lack of good nutritio

caused by my diet of cola and cor

chips. I stood motionless myselfwatching the two of them as they stoo

here. I was waiting for my brain t

return to normal. I was expecting the twof them to vanish before my eyes th

way a ghost might have. After a long two

or three minutes passed, the little gir

floated over to the other side of hemother and drifted down until she wa

standing on the soft ground. Then

apparently on a silent command from hemother, the little girl stepped silentl

and quickly away from me, down th

alley, and disappeared from view

around the side of the building to th



eft-towards the generator shack. The

her mother, still wearing her pleasan

expression, stepped quickly sideways

away from me. She also disappearearound the side of the building to the left

As they did so, I stood there calml

hinking to myself, “So this is whansanity is like. I see what they mean

t’s quite painless.”

After the two of them had disappeare

around behind the buildings, I stoomotionless for a few minutes, believing

was letting my brain return to normal.

watched the white fluorescent lighproceed around behind the generato

shack, and decided that my body must b

very low on vitamins. I resolved that i



he future I would get more sleep, tak

high potency vitamin pills, and eat mor

nutritious food. Then, supposing m

brain had returned to normal, I decideo continue on with my work After all,

said to my self, isn’t hard work the bes

herapy for problems like mine?The planks were extremely heavy, and

had to be lifted carefully and dragge

nto position. I walked down to the fa

end of the alley to roll the first one ofhe others. As I bent down to grab onto

t, I noticed that both the mother and th

daughter had left a large number of booprints in the soft dirt. I shrugged off wha

’d seen. I needed to get back to work.

grabbed on to the heavy plank. It wa

with great difficulty that I dragged



back to my truck and finally positioned i

o form a ramp up into the back of m

ruck. I took a deep breath, ate som

more corn chips, took a drink of colaand continued on with the brutal work a

hand. As I was positioning the third

plank, I noticed the little girl float oufrom behind the generator shack. Sh

was 3 or 4 feet off the ground. Sh

floated there for 2 or 3 minutes watchin

me. Her mother stepped out from behinhe generator shack and obviousl

communicated with her in silence. The

he two of them both returned behind thgenerator shack. This time, I got a muc

better look at the two of them. I note

how completely real they appeared



Still, I wasn’t afraid. I had convince

myself that I was suffering from th

effects of poor nutrition and extrem

fatigue. I considered them to bhallucinations.

With my ramps now in place, I sa

resting on one of them for a few minutes noticed some more white fluorescen

patches down by the mesquite to th

southeast, and over by the mountains

and over by the ammunition bunker to theast. I took another sip of cola, put m

work gloves back on, and began th

brutal task of unloading the heliucylinders.

Cylinders 1 and 2 weren’t too bad.

still had a few reserves of energy, and

wasn’t shaking too much from fatigue.



walked up the ramp onto the platform o

he truck, and grabbed each one in turn.

carefully walked them down the truc

ramp and up the other ramp into mweather shack. Cylinder 3, however

was a near disaster. Coming down th

ramp, I slipped and scrapped my leg ohe plank-nearly dropping the cylinder i

he process. Swearing and limping

finally got the heavy cylinder up the nex

ramp into my weather shack. It took ong time to get it safely stowed in it

place in the corner. Then I sat down and

nursed my wounds. My left kneeespecially, was in bad shape. I alway

kept a first aid kit and some rubbin

alcohol in my shack. This night, the



served me well. Then, munching som

more chips and sipping another cola,

returned to my work.

For cylinders 4, 5, and 6, I tried a newapproach. I carefully laid them down o

he bed of the truck, with their bottom

pointing towards the back of the truck. carefully slid them until their bottom

were even with the end of the truck bed

Then I got down from the truck and

standing on the ground, I slid them, onby one, down the ramp. It was bruta

iring work, but at least I didn’t have t

imp up and down the ramp. I had jusfinished lowering cylinder #6 to th

ground. I had just leaned it against th

back of the truck, and stepped back t

rest. As I turned around, back toward



he open rear door of my shack, my view

passed though the open rear door, on ou

hrough the open front door, and ou

owards the open square beyondStanding there, bent over at the wais

watching me, was another solid chal

white creature. He appeared to be thmale version of the young woman whic

had previously surprised standing i

he alley. He was about 60 feet away

We both stood frozen for a minute owo, watching each other. I wasn’

afraid. Even though he appeared to b

perfectly real, I supposed that he waust another hallucination caused by m

fatigue. He was about my height, bu

very thin. He probably didn’t weig



more than 110 pounds. Like the woman

he had chalk white skin. He was wearin

an aluminum canvass appearing jum

suit that gave off a soft white fluorescenight. He had blue eyes that stretche

further around the side of his head tha

any human’s and also stretched furthearound the side of his head then did th

woman’s. Suddenly, he seemed to

realize that I was watching him, and h

quickly stepped back from the open dooway and out of my line of sight.

I stood somewhat confused for

minute or so. I wanted to believe he waust another hallucination, but he looke

so real. Then I decided that maybe h

was one of my range rat friends playin

ricks on me-a friend who might be abl



o help me unload the truck. Singing

ittle then, so as not to surprise him,

began walking slowly around the eas

side of my weather shack. As I passedhe open side door of my shack, I notice

my missing fatigue cap sitting in plai

view on the floor in the middle of mshack. It sat upright, as thoug

ntentionally placed there. It’

appearance caused me to feel a certai

amount of alarm. I had looked high anow for it only a short time before.

estimated that it had to have been place

here sometime within the last teminutes, maybe even within the last fiv

minutes, and hallucinations don’t mov

caps around. I reached in, picked up m



cap from the floor, and placed i

carefully in an open area on a nearb

shelf. Then I continued walking slowl

and carefully on my journey around mweather shack, singing at moderat

volume as I did so. Reaching the ope

area in front of my shack, I continued onstill singing, walking diagonally toward

my theodolite and towards the rang

hree lounge. The white male creatur

had, in the meantime, retreated behinhe lounge building. I was about hal

way across the open square when

paused to consider the situation. Sowhite fluorescent light could be see

glistening from behind the lounge, an

also from behind the generator shack an

he nearby storage sheds. I remembere



he stories that I’d heard about Rang

Four Harry. I wondered if he really wa

a hermit who made a living b

prospecting for gold. He might be thone causing the light to shine fro

behind the range three lounge-and gol

prospectors are not necessary friendlyMy head and all the muscles in my bod

were already aching from fatigue. It wa

becoming difficult for me to reaso

hings through. I had no way to get off thranges until my truck was unloaded.

had no place to run to, no place to hide

This definitely wasn’t the time tchallenge whoever was hiding behin

he lounge. Still, I needed help to finis

unloading the truck. I stood for a few



minutes thinking things over. Then

shouted loudly out into the darkness

“Hello in the lounge.” There was n

answer. I continued, shouting loudly“Whoever is over there, I could use

ittle help over here at the weathe

shack.” Still, there was no answer. continued, “I’m in the middle of thi

brutal job of unloading these heliu

cylinders. I have 6 more of the things t

unload. It sure would be nice if I haanother man or two to help me.” Stil

here was nothing but silence. “I don

have any money to pay you with, but I’owe you a big favor. I have some col

and some corn chips we could share

Maybe sometime you’d need some hel

when you are out here and then I’d b



here to return the favor.” Still silence

“Look it’s a big desert out here and i

only makes sense for us men t

cooperate.” Still silence. “Now if yodon’t want to help me do the bruta

heavy labor I understand-but it’d be

big help if you could just keep mcompany while I work. At least you’d b

here to calm me down so I don’t get to

over-worked and totally collapse o

something.” For a few minutes, froover behind the range three lounge,

could hear quiet sounds that reminde

me of a horse laughing. Then from ovebehind the generator shack I could hea

soft muffled sounds that reminded me o

a happy dog barking. Annoyed, I shouted



back, “Fine! Just fine! If all you want t

do is laugh at me, then just fine! Well

’ll just show you. The men of m

family-we’re one tough bunch of guyso way have we ever given up easy. We

earned at a young age how to work unti

we dropped. I’ll unload that whole biruck all by myself, and then I won’t ow

ou any favors. You’ll see. I won’t owe

ou anything-not a thing! Then, when yo

need help, you won’t be able to proudlask me to return the favor, like you could

have if you’d helped me tonight when

need it. No! Then you’ll have to pay mbig time! Remember, when that da

comes, you could have helped m

onight-you could have helped me tonigh

for free!” The distant winds carrie



more soft horse laughter and muffle

happy dog barking until after severa

minutes, at last, the empty stillness of th

beautiful moon light night returned.Disappointed that no help wa

coming, I turned slowly back toward

my weather shack. I was concerned fohe safety of the last helium cylinder tha

had unloaded-cylinder #6. I steppe

naturally sideways towards the east

until I was able to look through thdistant front door of my weather shack

on through the brightly lit interior, on ou

hrough the back door where cylinder #stood leaning up against the back of m

ruck. The brightly lit interior of m

weather shack made it impossible to se



anything whatever in the darkness ou

hrough the distant back door. I found

his to be quite alarming because I knew

my eyesight was excellent. I wastanding where the white creature ha

been standing when he had bee

watching me. Yet, the glare of the lightsnside my weather shack prevented m

from seeing anything whatever ou

hrough its back door. The conclusio

was inescapable. If the white creaturwere real, he had better eyesight tha

any human. This conclusion made m

feel a certain nervousness. Under thcircumstances, I decided that I shoul

get back to work immediately, and ge

my truck back into driving condition a

soon as possible. I therefore put asid



all thoughts of anything else, focused o

my need to get my truck emptied, an

began hurrying back across the ope

square towards my weather shackReaching it, I munched a handful of cor

chips, took another quick sip of cola

and proceeded with my work.Moving cylinder #6 over the sof

ground was a job so brutal that I’

certain I’ll remember it for the rest of m

ife. Finally, after a horrible ordeal, andripping open some more of the blister

forming on the palms of my hands, an

further bruising my left knee, I gocylinder #6 up the ramp and into m

weather shack. I caught my breath

swore some, nursed my wounds, an



went back for cylinders #7, #8, and #9

Chanting and singing to myself to help

get oxygen into my lungs, I climbed th

ramp up to the back of the truckCarefully I laid the next three cylinder

down on the bed of the truck as before

and slid them back towards the makshift ramp. I had just finished slidin

cylinder #8 so that it lay with its botto

even with the back platform of the bi

ruck, when my telephone began ringingConsidering that it was nearly 2:30 a.m

was surprised to say the least

Cautiously I got down from the back ohe big truck, entered my shack, an

slowly approached the phone. After i

had rung perhaps 20 or 25 times,

carefully picked up the receiver an



answered, “Range three weather shack

Charlie Baker here.”

The voice on the other end was maste

sergeant Walters. The phone had a gooddeal of static, but I could hear hi

reasonably well. “Charlie,” he began

showing obvious surprise. “You aractually out there working like they said

You are one brave dedicated soldier.”

Taken aback by his praise, I stumbled

for words, “Thank you, sergeant. It’2:30 a.m. I’m surprised that you are u

at this hour. I’m up only because I hav

o finish unloading my supplies. I need tget this two and a half ton truck back int

he Mojave Wells motor pool before

breakfast. What has you up at this hour?”



“The Desert Center base commander,

replied the sergeant. “He personall

phoned me at home here a few minute

ago. He got me up out of a sound sleepHe wanted me to make certain tha

everything was all right with you. H

wanted to know if you needed any helwith the truck or anything.”

“Everything up here is fine, sergeant,

responded. “Don’t get me wrong. I’

ired. I could use another man to help munload these last six helium cylinders

That’s just life in the military. Really

sergeant, I have everything undecontrol. I’ll have my truck unloaded i

another hour or so. It won’t keep m

from making the 4:30 run as scheduled



Then I’ll lock up, return the big truck t

he motor pool, hop over to breakfast i

my pickup, and be right back on m

normal schedule.”“Well, the base commander had more

praise for you and your bravery than

ever thought possible, Charlie,continued the sergeant. “He is als

worried for your safety.”

“How so?” I asked. Then laughing,

continued, “I mean, these ranges arMINE, sergeant. I know every rock an

every piece of sagebrush out here, eve

n total darkness. I’m even getting tknow the white things that I see, b

name. There’s nothing out here I can’

handle all by myself, sergeant. God help

me. I love this place so much!” Then



aughed some more. “Tell the general h

can go back to sleep. I got everythin

covered.”

“You sure are the bravest soldieeither the general, the major or mysel

have ever seen, Charlie,” answered th

sergeant soberly. “We’re all glad thaou still have your sense of humor

However, the general had some worries

some wishes, and some concerns that h

wanted me to personally convey to you.”“What possible concerns could th

general have at this hour? He must be a

awfully light sleeper,” I repliedrespectfully.

“Well, first the general wants you to

know that he has phoned Mark in hi



barracks, and ordered him to give yo

he highest priority on the use of any o

he vehicles in the motor pool. Tha

ncludes the two and a half ton truck thaou are driving. So, take all of the tim

ou need to unload the truck, even if yo

don’t get it unloaded by morning. Thorder applies only to you, not to me o

he major, or any airman who migh

replace you.

“The general also personally phoneBryan, the air policeman, and ordere

him to convey the same orders to th

sergeant who runs the airman’s clubhere at the Wells.

“Next, the general has ordered all o

he ranges closed up tighter than a dru

omorrow. No one can come out to help



ou, so take your time. Rest wheneve

ou need to. The general has als

canceled all balloon runs for tomorrow

He has left it totally up to you whicones you take and which ones you skip

f I were you, Charlie, I’d skip them al

and spend the day resting in thbarracks.”

“But sergeant,” I slowly stuttered, “

don’t understand. Taking the wind

measurements is an easy job. It won’t bany problem for me to take all o

omorrow’s runs as scheduled.”

“I know, Charlie,” replied thsergeant soberly. “But you’re one hard

working dedicated soldier. The general

he major, and myself are all i



agreement. We don’t want to work a

good horse to death. The general want

me to reassure him that you’ll get prope

medical attention for all of thosscrapes, bruises, and blisters on you

egs, and on your hands and knees. The

must be hurting you pretty bad. Youknow the ones you got when you fel

coming out of the generator shack.”

“The general knows about that too?”

exclaimed in surprise. “Who could havold him about that? I’m the only one ou

here!”

“Well, as I understand it, Charlie, thePentagon did. I guess someone up ther

reported seeing lights or your lights o

something out in the desert at range thre

and reported it to the Pentagon. They’r



he ones who woke him up tonight

Whatever they did, the general made

clear, I am ordered not to ask you an

questions about anything. I am only tverify that you are personally health

and safe,” responded the sergeant.

I was speechless. Then the sergeanpaused for a moment, thinking carefull

about his next words, before continuing

“The general also had something unusua

o request of you.”“What Sergeant?” I responded.

“He expressed his wishes that yo

wouldn’t go chasing after any ghosts owhite butterflies while you are out ther

onight? He said that he doesn’t have th

authority to order you to stay in close t



he weather shack, or to close you

weather shack immediately and driv

back into base. However, in a ver

emotional manner he expressed hiwishes that for the rest of tonight, yo

wouldn’t go over by the range thre

ounge. He specifically asked that yonot go further in that direction than th

heodolite stand. He says that you ar

free to go over there if you choose to

but he hopes you won’t. He hopes thaou will respect his wishes.”

“What?” I asked in total disbelief

“Sergeant, I’m totally alone out here. I’22 miles out here in the desert. It’s jus

past 2:30 a.m. I mean no disrespec

sergeant, but there’s something about thi

whole evening that doesn’t seem to b



making any sense. I missed evenin

chow. I’m hungry as the devil. I’ve bee

eating junk food, and I’m low o

vitamins. I’m so tired that I must bgoing nuts. Sometimes I think I’m seein

ghosts or somebody white around ever

corner. I can’t go over to the range threounge because I’m physically too tire

o walk that far. Now I’m told that th

Pentagon woke up the two star Deser

Center base commanding general just she could ask you to ask me, prett

please, not to go walking around an

corners over by the range three lounge. Ihe wants me to stay away from the rang

hree lounge all he’s got to do is orde

me not to go over there. And anothe



hing! How does the general even know

hat I tripped coming out of the generato

shack? There weren’t even night hawk

out here to see me.”The Sergeant paused for a minute o

so, thinking things through. Then h

continued soberly, “I agree with youCharlie, but enlisted men like us have t

earn to trust our officers. The genera

made it perfectly clear that I was t

deliver his messages with no questionasked. He made it clear that I coul

isten if you felt you needed someone t

alk to, but he specifically ordered mnot to ask you any questions about wha

t’s like out there on the ranges tonight

or ever. He was very insistent when h

was talking to me. The finest doctors i



he Air Force examined you. To a man

generals and bird colonels alike, they al

swear that you’re in perfect physical an

mental condition. You are the man theywant for this duty. The general ver

specifically ordered both the major an

, to totally disregard any suggestion thaou were hallucinating, or suffering fro

any kind of medical condition. Th

general was very explicit. If the major o

were to send any other observer uhere to replace you, he woul

mmediately court martial the both of us

You have to handle the ranges, Charlieand you have to handle them alone. You

can handle them any way you want to

Whatever is over there by the rang



hree lounge, or out there in the deser

onight-whatever it is-you have to handl

t-totally alone.”

“Yes, sergeant,” I answered, tired andrespectful. “Tell the general not to

worry. I’ve got everything under control

and tell him thanks for caring about msafety.” With that I hung up and turned

my attention back to the difficult task o

unloading the last six helium cylinders.

Pulling cylinder #7 off the back of thruck was a shockingly brutal operation

The cylinder came down faster than

was expecting. It banged sidewayagainst the back of the truck

momentarily pinning my bruised lef

knee against the hard steel bumper. I

came to rest just narrowly missing m



eft foot. I swore a great deal as

walked off the pain. Then I manhandle

he cylinder up the second ramp into m

weather shack. I limped back focylinder #8.

As I worked with cylinder #8,

screamed and shouted obscenities ianger, trying desperately to get mor

oxygen into my lungs. I finally got th

cylinder slid off the back of the truck

Then, in a near fit of rage, and hurryinwhile my adrenaline was still flowing,

brutally dragged it up the second ram

nto the back of my weather shack. Isimilar fashion, I forced cylinder #

from where it stood on my truck, t

where I left it in the back of my weathe



shack. Ignoring my cuts, my bruises, an

my many blisters, screaming in rage, an

shaking, and swearing at the Air Forc

and my lot in life, I half ran up the plannto the back of the truck, grabbe

cylinder #10. Blinded by the dirt an

sweat dripping off my face and browand beyond sanity, I screamed and

elled like a raging animal as I bange

#10 down on the bed of the truck an

shoved it to the back edge of the trucbed. Shaking almost uncontrollably,

umped down to the ground and jerke

#10 off the back of the truck, guiding as it fell to the ground. I let it rest up

against the back of the truck bed. Fatigu

and nausea finally overtook me.

stepped back from my work, and steppe



backwards across the cable fence tha

separated my weather area from the skip

bombing range to the east. Using one o

he wooden posts to steady mhysterical, shaking body, I bent over a

he waist and began vomiting my guts ou

nto the sagebrush, into the rocks, inthe gravel, and into the soft dirt. As

was doing so, out of the corner of m

eye I caught a glimpse of somethin

white running along the side of mweather shack, back out towards th

open area where my theodolite stood.

was far too nauseous at the time to carwhat it was.

After many long minutes of vomiting

and swearing, and sucking in the fres



night air I was finally able to straighte

up some. Down to the southeast, perhap

a quarter mile distant, three more of th

white fluorescent lights could be seedeployed in a skirmish line, approachin

me slowly. When I finally got m

vomiting controlled, still shaking, stepped back across the cable fence, an

steadied myself against the wooden pos

my head pounding, gasping for breath i

he fresh night air, and swearing toconvince myself that I was still alive.

After many long minutes, I starte

feeling a little better. I limped my waback into my weather station an

collapsed into my chair. After a few

more minutes I carefully sipped som

water and washed the dirt and sweat ou



of my mouth. I picked up my phone t

call Desert Center for help, but it wa

useless with static. My radio was littl

better. Out in front of my weather shackust out of sight around the corner of m

front door I could hear someone walkin

carefully on the gravel. I was far toexhausted to be afraid, but it roused m

o action. “Is anyone there?” I called ou

oudly. “Stay back. I’m very sick. M

eyes are blinded from the dirt and fromy sweat. I frighten easily and I need t

rest,” I called out loudly. It sounded lik

he person outside retreated bacbetween the buildings a short distance

Standing up slowly and making a lot o

noise as I did so, I carefully closed th



side door to my shack. With my eye

closed, and signing loudly as I did so,

gingerly reached out and got hold of th

front door and swung it closed. Feelinsafer now, I sat back down in my chair

put my arms and head down on my desk

closed my eyes, and began resting. I waoo exhausted to move. I ignored th

sounds of several people walkin

quietly on the gravel outside. After

ong time, I started feeling a little betterknew there was only one way off th

ranges. That way was for me to finis

unloading the truck. Slowly I roused mself. I called out loudly and mad

numerous loud sounds. I was careful t

give whoever was out side, all of th

ime they needed to go away. I carefull



ook another drink of cola, munched

few more corn chips, and washed the

down with some clear water. Still tired

stumbling, and talking loudly to myself, carefully went out the back door, and

began the brutal task of getting cylinde

#10 into my weather shack. I was sorfrom the top of my head all the wa

down to my very toes. Every muscle i

my body ached. It took a long time, but

finally had inched cylinder #10 into thback of my weather shack. I went to ge

cylinder #11, dreaming of how nice i

would be to get back to my barracks, annto bed. I was so exhausted that

wasn’t sure I could make it up onto th

back of my truck. I stood there for a lon



ime, trying to decide what to do next.

was so tired that I nearly went to slee

standing up. Off to the southeast, about

half of mile distant, the skirmish line ohree white lights remained on station.

With extreme difficulty, I finally made

t up into the back of my truck. Onchere, I rested for several minutes

breathing deeply. Then I grabbed

cylinder #11 and began the process o

aying it down on its side on the bed ohe truck. I was far too tired to do s

safely. Halfway down, I lost control o

he cylinder and it slammed down onthe wooden truck bed, bouncing some a

t did so. It tore open some more of th

blisters on my hands as it fell.

screamed in agony for a while. Afte



many minutes of cursing and swearin

and shaking my hand, I finally got hol

of myself. Using my feet, I slid cylinde

#11 into position with its bottom evewith the back of the truck. Then

carefully tried to get down from th

ruck. Too tired to hold my own weight slipped part way down and fell into th

rocks and the dirt and the sagebrus

below, opening more cuts on my hand

and knees. Bruised, screaming in agonyfinally got to my feet. My fatigues wer

orn. My knees were scraped, and m

right hand especially, was bleeding fromcuts. Wrapping my cut right hand wit

my handkerchief, and screaming in rage

and in agony, I grabbed the bottom o



cylinder #11 and dragged it off the truck

guiding the cylinder as it fell upright int

he soft desert dirt. Then leaning

against the back of the truck, once again stepped to the side and vomite

whatever little was left in my stomac

nto the desert across the cable fenceEvery cell in my body was screaming i

pain. It was only with great difficult

hat I could straighten up. I stood ther

for many long minutes swearing, ancoughing, and shaking, and trying to ge

control of my dry heaves.

Setting down on a nearby wooden posat last, I decided that I had to get help

with the last two cylinders-at any price

With my phone not working and m

radio useless with static, I decided that



had no choice but to hobble over to th

range three lounge, hoping the phon

over there worked. I decided I woul

ask anyone I found over there for help. began slowly hobbling and limpin

along the cable fence heading toward

he front, northeast corner of my weatheshack. It was a slow process. I stoppe

next to each post in turn to steady myself

finally arrived at the northeast corne

of my weather shack. Then I proceedeout into the open and stopped beside th

next wooden post. As I stopped to stead

myself, I saw her standing out there ihe moonlit darkness. It was the chal

white woman whom I had previousl

surprised in the alleyway. Now she wa



standing naturally on the ground, i

familiar fashion, next to the front door o

he closest supply shed. She stood barel

25 feet away, watching me in silenceHer little girl was standing on the groun

behind her. Both of them were wearin

happy expressions, obviously unafraiof me. The power to the suits that the

were wearing, appeared to have bee

urned down, but their suits still gave of

a small amount of soft white fluorescenight.

When I first saw her, I wasn’t startled

or afraid. At the time I was actuallydisappointed with myself. I considere

her to be a figment of my imagination.

was disappointed because I believe

hat my brain had begun to malfunctio



again. I steadied myself against th

wooden post, and began studying he

carefully. I was waiting for my body to

rest, settle down, and return to normal-awhich time I expected her to vanish int

hin air. I stood there in silence watchin

her for at least fifteen minutes, while shremained pleasantly standing at her spot

n total silence, and watching me back.

marveled at how real she appeared.

remember saying out loud to myself, “never knew that hallucinations coul

appear to be that real. You look as if

could just reach out and touch you.” Shseemed to find it amusing.

My body was still shaking fro

exhaustion. I had to endure more attack



of the dry heaves. After one of thes

attacks, as I was bent over, my stomac

n aching spasms, I noticed a smal

square block of dry wood lying on thground. Out of curiosity more tha

anything, I picked it up with my lef

hand, and, after straightening up a little, gently tossed it underhand over toward

he young chalk white woman. I expecte

he piece of wood to continue its norma

path on through the space where shstood. I expected to prove to myself tha

she wasn’t real, but just a figment of m

magination. As I watched, she smiledpleasantly, reached out smoothly wit

her right hand and caught the block o

wood in mid air. Then she visuall

nspected it for a minute or so, and usin



a gentle underhanded motion, tossed

back to me. I was too stunned to catch i

stood there transfixed as the block o

wood bounced gently against my lefchest, then my left knee, and fell to th

ground at my feet. It took a few minute

for me to get hold of myself. “That’s pretty good trick.” I finally muttered ou

oud. “Can you do that with your lef

hand?” I asked. Then I picked up th

same small block of wood and gentlossed it underhand back towards th

oung woman. This time, still smilin

pleasantly, she reached out with her lefhand and caught it in mid air. Then

appearing to be almost laughing i

silence, using a smooth under han



motion, she gently tossed it back to me

Once again, I was far too stunned t

catch it… It struck the right side of m

chest and fell harmlessly to the groundThe nerves in my neck and stomac

began tightening in fear. Another spasm

of dry heaves and vomiting set inSteadying myself against the woode

post, I turned to my left, towards th

south, and spent the next ten minutes o

so bent over, and on my knees in drheaves. Every coughing spasm hurt s

much my mind would flood over i

spells of dizziness and pain. Sometimescoughing and choking, I would mutter

“You can’t be real. You just can’t be

real.” She seemed to find it ver

amusing.



After a long while, the spasms slowl

subsided, and I was able to get hold o

myself. Slowly I got back on my fee

bent over at the waist, and steadiemyself against the wooden post as I too

stock of my desperate situation. While

had been down on my knees, the talwhite young woman had closed th

distance. Now she stood in silent

friendly, and familiar fashion, next to th

opposite corner of my weather shackbarely a dozen feet from me. Th

skirmish line down to the southeast ha

closed to less than 50 feet. Now I coulsee that it was a line of three simila

chalk white creatures-apparently tw

oung men and another young woman



To the south, next to my truck, stood

another tall white young male carefull

nspecting helium cylinder #11. The sof

white fluorescent lights coming frobehind my weather shack convinced m

hat several more such creatures wer

behind it, and out of sight. To the southseveral miles in the distance, I could se

wo other much taller chalk whit

fluorescent patches posted in militar

fashion, down on the range one road ats junctions with the range two and th

range three roads. Off to my righ

standing by the back southwest corner ohe range three lounge stood another suc

creature-apparently a young girl abou

he age of an eighth grader. Straigh

down at the end of the cable fence to th



north, some 70 feet away, another fully

grown young male creature stoo

watching me intently. Behind me, off o

a small ridge in the desert, less than 5ards to the northeast, I could see stil

another older male adult creature slowl

closing on me. As soon as I saw him, mheart went into my mouth, cold with fear

He was older and sterner than the res

He was obviously heavily armed

obviously intent on closing on me. Happeared to be the same creature I ha

previously glimpsed momentarily befor

falling to my knees on my way out of thgenerator shack. Too sick to panic o

run, I turned slowly towards the youn

woman. I was bent over at the time, an



holding my sides in agony an

exhaustion. ‘Well, aren’t you on

beautiful hallucination.” I sai

pleasantly. “And I see you have friendsYou know, I haven’t ever seen anything

with your kind of beauty before.” A

arge smile flashed across the younwoman’s face. I continued slowly and

pleasantly, trying to get hold of myself

coughing and heaving as I spoke, “You

don’t frighten me. You’re the one I trustYou could have killed me before now, i

ou’d wanted to. Anyway, the men of my

family, we’re one tough bunch of guysWe don’t ever quit. We haven’t ever

been afraid of women. But that big whit

male coming up behind me, is anothe

story. He scares me. I can see he’



armed to the teeth and tough as nails. H

must be one of your generals. I’m n

match for him, and what’s more, I’m

sure he knows it. He can take manytime he feels like it. I figure that h

must be taking his orders from yo

because you’re the one that’s come iclose. You must be one beautiful high

ranking lady. So I figure I’m better off i

just keep talking to only you. I wonde

f you wouldn’t ask that general of youro back off a ways, back towards tha

bunker road behind him. It’d make m

feel a lot better. He can still kill me frohere if he takes a mind to. That would a

east give me a chance to settle dow

and collect my thoughts, and talk to yo



for a while. You see, young lady, the

men of my family have always bee

good with words. You never know,

might just get lucky. If you give me thchance to talk a while, I just migh

succeed in talking my way out of thi

mess I’m in.”Another broad smile flashed acros

he young woman’s face. She and th

others appeared to spend a few minute

aughing pleasantly, all in total silenceThe well-armed adult male off to th

northeast retreated suddenly, fallin

back to the desert ridge that lay along thbunker road, some 200 yards distan

Then the white male standing by m

ruck quickly retreated out of sigh

behind my weather shack. The skirmis



ine of three fell back to the southeas

perhaps a quarter of a mile. The youn

woman glanced quickly off to th

northeast, visibly checking the newposition of the tall white general. The

she returned to studying me intently an

smiled, as if to say, “Sure. Let’s heat?”

I spent the next several minute

vomiting and waiting out some mor

coughing spasms. When they finallsubsided, I spent a few more minute

catching my breath. Then I continue

slowly, coughing, stammering, andsometimes pausing, waiting out more dr

heaves. “Well, I promised you an

nteresting conversation, so I’ll begi



with some jokes.” For the next 3 or

minutes, I recited a series of 3 shor

okes that I had made up myself. The

were such bad jokes that I was shockewhen the white lady creature standing i

front of me suddenly broke out in nea

hysterical laughter, as did every othewhite creature I could see. Even the tw

all white guards positioned in th

distance, down on the range one road

appeared to be laughing intensely. Iaddition, the sound of several human

aughing could be heard coming fro

behind the range three lounge. One ohem was laughing, saying in muffle

ones, “Colonel, he’s the one we need.

And another one was saying, “Genera

he sure has guts!”



A good many minutes passed as th

others laughed and I stood waiting. Th

entire range area was covered wit

hysterical, electric, uncontrollablaughter. Both the chalk white woma

and her little girl were knelt down wit

heir backs against the shed, laughinuntil they were shaking and dizzy. Fo

my part, my mind was now totall

flooded over with confusion. I ha

expected the laughter to make mhallucinations go away, but the opposit

seemed to be happening. I was now

extremely confused. I didn’t think any omy jokes were particularly funny, but m

hallucinations found them to b

hysterical. I wondered how it could b



minutes suffering through some mor

coughing spasms. When they finall

subsided, I spent a few more minute

catching my breath. Then I continuedslowly, coughing, stammering, and

sometimes pausing, waiting out more dr

heaves, “I’m very sick, and I’m not ablo tell you any more stories. I’m totall

exhausted. I have to rest, or I’ll die.

have to get help. I can’t move my truc

until I’ve unloaded that last heliucylinder, and moved those last two

cylinders to a safe place. I can’t get bac

nto base until I can move my truck.Then I paused some more, fighting of

another coughing spasm. I waited unti

he dizziness from the coughing passed



hen I continued. “My phone in th

weather shack isn’t working because o

all the static. My radio isn’t any better.

need to get over to the lounge. I couluse the phone over there to phone Deser

Center and ask for help. Then I coul

sleep on the sofa over there until I warested or until help arrived.”

The young woman stood in silence

pleasantly smiling at me, apparentl

istening to every word I spoke. I restefor a minute or so, thinking through m

next words carefully, and collecting m

nerves and my thoughts. I continued“I’m too tired to walk across this ope

area in front of me. It’s too wide.

ntend to follow along this cable fenc

owards that young man up at the end.



need the fence to steady myself. Pleas

ell him not to panic. I figure he must b

armed, and I don’t want him to fire o

me.”Another happy smile flashed acros

he young woman’s face. The young mal

at the end of the cable fence made friendly gesture, and showed me th

palms of both of his hands. He obviousl

wanted me to see that he didn’t have an

weapons aimed at me at the time.Breathing a little easier, I continued

“When I get up close to him, about fou

of five posts up, I intend to turn towardhe lounge, and try to make it across tha

open area up there. It’s narrower up

here, and I might be able to make



without falling, if I’m careful.” Th

oung woman smiled at me, and the

urned her gaze towards the northeaster

corner of the lounge. There waobviously something up there that sh

wanted me to see. I followed her lead

and turned my gaze to the same placeOut from behind the range three loung

stepped another young adult white mal

creature, about my height. He stood i

silence, looking straight at me. Thenfrom behind the lounge, stepped a

American Air Force colonel-his silve

eagles clearly visible in the fainmoonlight. The colonel, stepped to th

eft and north of the white creature an

said in a low voice, “I’ll handle thi

Harry.” The white male then stepped



back behind the range three lounge. Th

colonel remained standing, not actuall

facing me, but rather facing the sectio

of the cable fence that I had said ntended to walk to.

As soon as the sight of the America

colonel sank into my exhausted brain, wave of relief flooded over me.

considered him to be a figment of m

magination, like the others-after all,

was 22 miles out in the desert. He hano obvious method of transportation, an

had seen him talking to a whit

creature-but he was an ordinary humanThat convinced me that my brain wa

starting to return to normal. As I stood

here, feeling tremendous relief that m



hallucinations were at last starting t

ook like ordinary humans, the phone i

my weather shack began ringing. Turnin

owards the young woman, I happilexclaimed, “That’s my phone. It must b

working, now. I need to answer it. If I’m

careful, I might even live through this.While my phone continued to ring, th

oung woman remained standing next t

he northwest corner of my weathe

shack. I slowly hobbled over to its frondoor. With the young woman standing

smiling, less than 6 feet from me,

carefully stood up, and opened the frondoor of my weather shack. It opened ou

and to my left; away from the where th

oung woman was standing. Turning m

back on her, I carefully climbed into m



weather shack, climbed into my chair

and answered the phone, “Range thre

weather shack, Charlie.” I was greete

by an ordinary dial tone, and virtually nstatic. My radio was now playing loudl

as well. It also had no unusual static.

sat for a few minutes resting. I took somwater, opened the side door, rinsed ou

my mouth, and spit the wastewater ou

nto the desert. I rested in my chair som

more, while slowly sipping some morwater. According to the radio, it wa

now 4.00 a.m. I was feeling totall

exhausted, but now I was able to relaxSoon I started feeling noticeably better

Outside, the colonel and the young chal

white woman remained on station, whil



he other white creatures slowl

retreated from their exposed positions

and disappeared out of sight behind th

range three buildings.With some music now to help me, and

feeling better, I formulated a plan o

action. Tired as I was, I obviouslneeded to conserve my energy. I decided

hat I would move cylinder #11 to

stable position next to the rear door, up

against the outside of my weather shackThe cylinders had a protective thic

steel screw-on cap that protected th

valve assembly from the sun, the windand the rain. It could safely wait outsid

for a few days until I could rest up an

move it inside. Then I would take th

4:30 balloon run. Afterwards, I would



decide what to do about cylinder #12.

began by stepping outside through m

side door, and hobbling around to th

front of my shack to close the front doorsince it opened out. The chalk whit

oung woman remained standing by th

corner of my weather shack as beforeSlowly I hobbled towards her, until

was standing directly in front of her

Then I carefully closed the front door.

still believed she was a hallucinationLooking her in the eyes, I sai

pleasantly, “You sure have been helpfu

for a hallucination.”Where-upon she startled me. Sh

replied in playful feminine fashion

aughing and speaking perfect English



“Remember Charlie, next time you hav

o help us for free. You and the men o

our family promised.” Then sh

appeared to skip backwards severasteps, in playful fashion. With her littl

girl next to her, still laughing, they bot

urned the corner into the alleyway andisappeared from sight behind th

buildings. I was startled and surprised

but I was not stunned or afraid. With al

of the white creatures now out of sighand only the colonel visible-still o

station by the corner of the lounge-I wa

actually quite happy. I believed that mbrain was rapidly recovering and tha

with a bit more rest, things would soo

be right back to normal. Singing an

aughing, myself, I hobbled back aroun



my weather shack. Then taking a deep

breath, and shouting to fill my lungs wit

oxygen, I carefully inched cylinder #1

across the soft dirt towards the bacwall of my weather shack. The cylinde

was still three feet or so away, and

standing in a precarious position when had to quit to rest.

It was now 4:20 a.m. I decided to tak

he morning balloon run befor

continuing. I hobbled back into mweather shack, filled a balloon, attache

he tracking light, and began taking th

morning weather report. I released mballoon, picked up my clipboard

recorded the time, and hobbled an

imped out to my theodolite. Tired as



was, taking off the heavy aluminu

cover was quite a problem. Thre

minutes had already passed when I wa

finally ready to take the first readingThe readings for minute four, and fiv

went as planned. As I was taking th

fifth reading, I heard the characteristiclanging of a helium cylinder fro

behind my weather shack. I swore som

because I supposed that cylinder #1

had fallen over. There was nothing to bdone, but to continue with my win

measurements. As I was taking th

reading for minute number eight, it waobvious that I had lost the balloo

against one of the star fields in the Milk

Way. This meant that readings six and

seven were no good. Swearing some,



realized that I needed at least two mor

good readings in order to have a usefu

wind measurement. With a practiced

hand, then, I went searching for mballoon against the bright star fields tha

concealed it. It was intense work and

didn’t take my eye off the eyepiece anook around as I usually did. I finall

ocated my balloon after fourtee

minutes had passed. For the next thre

minutes, I tracked it carefully anrecorded the readings. Satisfied that

finally had a decent set of win

measurements, I broke off the trackinprocess and put down the clipboard.

began breathing deeply, and sucking al

he oxygen I could into my lungs. Then



picked up the heavy aluminum cover an

ocked up the theodolite. I was watchin

he American colonel as he remained o

station, standing just out from thnortheast corner of the lounge. As usual

he wasn’t watching me directly. Rather

he remained standing in the dimoonlight, perhaps 100 feet from me

facing the mountains off to the east, an

ust looking my way once in a while. A

watched, an American Air Forcsergeant, wearing eight stripes, steppe

quickly out from the darkness behind th

range three lounge. He approached thcolonel on his left side. I could hear th

sergeant say to the colonel, speaking i

muffled tones, “We’re finished, sir. He

sure is one brave tough soldier to hav



unloaded 11 of those, out here alone

surrounded by our white friends.” The

both of them stepped quickly backward

until they were out of sight behind thounge-leaving me at last alone in th

dimly lit nighttime.

Believing myself to be back tnormal-exhausted, but normal-I decide

o hurry with my remaining tasks, unloa

cylinder#12, and get back into bas

while I could. Taking a deep breath, hurriedly replaced the aluminum cover

ocked my theodolite, and hobbled bac

o my weather shack. Once inside, hurried through my calculations as best

could, sipped some more cola, an

phoned Desert Center. Sergeant Adam



answered. The Desert Center bas

commander had asked him to come i

early. He recorded my weather report

reminded me that the ranges werclosed, told me that no more win

reports were needed for the rest of th

day, and suggested that I headmmediately into base to get breakfas

and rest.

I was just hanging up the phone when

noticed that the back door to my weatheshack was closed. I was shocked-while

had been taking the balloo

measurements someone had closed thdoor. Calling out loudly, I gingerly

stepped out through my side door

Singing loudly, I hobbled along the sid

of my weather shack to my truck in th



back. I was stunned by the surprise

found when I got there. While I had bee

aking my wind report, someone ha

unloaded cylinder #12 from the back omy truck. Cylinder #11 and cylinder #12

now stood securely, side-by-side

directly up against the back of mweather shack. The heavy woode

planks had been taken down and wer

now laying neatly side-by-side in th

dirt along the back of my weather shackThe rear door to my weather shack ha

been neatly closed and locked. My truc

now stood ready to take me into base.Exhausted, and nearly ready to drop,

didn’t have the faintest idea what t

make of it all. After overcoming m



surprise, I took the truck keys from m

pocket, climbed into the driver’s sea

and gratefully started the engine. Then

with the motor running, I maneuvered thbig truck back through the mesquite an

around to the front of my weather shack

With the engine idling, I climbed outurned off the shack lights, and locked up

my weather shack. Then I pulled the bi

ruck over to the generator shack, go

out, and shut down the diesel. Climbinback into my waiting truck at last, wit

he early sunrise turning the sky pink i

he east, I gratefully put the truck intow gear and began heading back int

base, leaving range three behind. As

was leaving the range three area, in th

mirror I could see the colonel briefl



step out from behind the range thre

ounge and watch me as the truck heade

nto base. I didn’t stop or slow down.

was quite happy. I felt that through hardwork and concentration, I’d won

victory. I’d won, a victory ove

hallucinations, a victory over sicknesand disease, a victory over things that g

bump in the night. I believed that I ha

emporarily surrendered my sanity i

order to stay alive. I believed that I wanow an expert on hallucinations and ba

dreams, an expert on desperate menta

rade-offs, an expert on the figments oone’s imagination. I believed that I now

understood completely the tricks that

man’s mind plays on him when he i



exhausted and alone. The stress of tha

evening had been extreme. “It had t

have been the stress”, I repeated t

myself. “I had to have beehallucinating. What other explanatio

could there be?” As I drove back into

base, it was with great pride that pushed the memory of that evenin

completely from my mind. It was wit

great pride that I convinced myself tha

he entire evening had been just a simplbout of mental exhaustion. Yes, I go

control of my consciousness and m

fears. I convinced myself that my braiwould be all healed up and everythin

would be right back to normal, just a

soon as I got a good meal and a goo

nights sleep. As I drove back into base



oung, innocent-a mind trained to forget

es-ignorance was certainly bliss.

believed that I had given everything

had, just to stay alive.



Rite of Passage

. . . today I fulfilled my vows.So I came out to meet you;

I have looked for you

and have found you!.

. . . Proverbs 7:14-15

In many ways Mojave Wells was an

enlisted man’s paradise. Weeks could gby without seeing any officers o

sergeants. Yes, it was true that some

days the empty ranges were filled witfall rains, cold winter nights, an

oneliness. But other days were muc

different. I was well supplied, ha



midnight chow in the barracks, a lon

comfortable bus ride up to the far awa

Las Vegas casinos on weekends

nspections were unheard of, and I coulgo anywhere I wanted to, anytime

wanted to. I had my own pickup truc

and extra TDY pay. Some days, iseemed as though friends in high place

surrounded me.

It was a warm Monday morning out a

range three. The sun was rapidly heatinup the desert floor. I had just finished th

9:30 a.m. balloon run and was walkin

across the open square towards thrange three lounge. The ranges were i

use, and I was expecting to have fu

oining in the poker game which Stev

and the range rats had going in th



ounge. I had just reached the northeas

corner of the lounge building, and wa

heading towards the open front doo

when the phone inside rang. Stevanswered authoritatively, “Lounge three

You’re even with Steven. Uh huh, uh

huh.Right general. Right away… Yes sir

es sir.” He hung up the phone, jumped

up from his chair and announced to th

rest of the range rats, “Condition yellowSomebody wants to play with Charlie

We have 10 minutes to be in the truck

and heading out of here. Shut doweverything and head into base. Th

ranges are closed for the rest of th

week. Doug, go tell the range officer t



order all planes to return to Deser

Center in a direct and normal manner

Wayne, move the range boards to thei

red positions. The rest of you men, gehe two power wagons and bring the

around front while I close up th

windows and pick up our cardsTODAY, Gentlemen. We’re closing this

place down, TODAY!”

I paused as the men double-timed pas

me. Then I nervously asked Steve, “Dhe pull-out orders apply to me too

Steve?”

Steve laughed and responded, “No, ocourse not, Charlie. Whoever is comin

out here to play, wants to play wit

ou.”

“Me?” I responded nervously.



Steve laughed some more as he wa

picking up his deck of cards, “Just sta

calm, Charlie. We’re all pulling out

officers and everyone. Everything ouhere is yours to play with for the rest o

he day.”

Steve was quite right. It was beautiful day and everything out at rang

hree was mine to play with, apparentl

alone, for the rest of the day.

The next day, Tuesday, began aanother warm beautiful morning out a

range three. Nothing fearful ha

happened but for some reason my nervebegan to get the best of me. It wasn’t lik

me to be that way. I enjoyed being alone

Usually I wasn’t the slightest bit afrai



of the dark but for a while, I wa

umping at my own shadow. Then

became convinced that I wa

hallucinating again. Every time I wenanywhere outside my weather shack,

ooked to me like some young girl o

oung woman would silently float upbehind me and follow me around

Sometimes she appeared to be about th

size of a seventh or eighth grade gir

Other times she appeared to be a younwoman my height, about the age of 21

Once the young woman appeared with

ittle girl by her side. Another time alhree appeared floating side by side

Soon I wasn’t sure if I was bein

followed by one woman or two, o

hree, or seeing double or even triple



Usually, the woman, or the girl, would

hide behind me where I couldn’t see her

When I turned around suddenly, she’d b

here, maybe 6 or 8 feet away, floating foot or so off the ground smiling at me

She was very thin with chalk white skin

arge blue eyes, and blonde hair. Alwayshe wore a white aluminum canvas lik

suit that gave off a zone of soft whit

fluorescent light. The young woman wit

he little girl, and the young girappeared to be the same ones I’d see

close up, the night I’d had such

difficult time unloading my shipment owelve helium cylinders. For that reason

when they came, I wasn’t terrified o

even afraid. I had come to believe tha



hey were just my special persona

apparitions. I was having this medica

problem, I supposed, because I didn

eat right, get enough rest, or because I’spent so much time alone out on th

ranges. I wondered if I would eve

recover.On this Tuesday night, pleasan

houghts would form slowly in my mind

houghts such as “Hello Charlie. Do yo

enjoy being called Charlie? Do yoenjoy being out here alone in the dark

Thank you for saving the life of my littl

girl down at range one. You aren’afraid, the way the others were.” Soo

my heart was racing and my temple

were pounding. I became certain that m

mind was going and that the cells in m



brain had given out on me. At first I tried

singing to myself to control my fear

Then I gave up on singing and starte

alking to them as though they werhuman. I’d say things like, “Now pleas

don’t go getting in my way, little girl

’m a busy man, and I have lots of woro do before I can go in for breakfast

You never want to come between a

working man and his breakfast.” I

seemed to settle me down. The womaand the girls responded by smiling an

giggling silently in return. That moonles

night, out on range three, I was standingeaning against the sturdy meta

heodolite stand. I was enjoying th

beautiful starlight and checking on th



weather. The young woman was floatin

some 9 inches off the ground in tota

silence, some 8 feet or so from me

watching me intently. She looked sootally real that for a few minutes, I wa

actually too scared to move. I knew tha

no matter what she was, if I panicked’d never get back into base alive. I sai

my prayers and got my emotions unde

control. I began by slowly thinkin

hings through and counting mblessings. I had an easy job and I like

doing it. I decided that I was one luck

airman. Why waste it all by letting a fewsilly things in the night scare me out of

good thing? Yes, as I stood there, I go

my mind right. I decided that since sh

hadn’t harmed me yet, she wasn’t goin



o. Therefore, I should learn to rela

whenever she was around, happily go o

about my business, go right on singin

my sunshine songs, and trust that shwould be friendly in return.

I began my new lease on life by askin

he young woman politely to step asidso I could walk back to my weathe

shack and get my balloon. She smile

and floated off to one side to my right s

could go by. I smiled in return, and toldher, “Thanks”. I walked slowly and

directly to my weather shack. I got m

balloon, confident that I finally had msenseless nameless fears under control.

was quite proud of myself, really, th

way I was learning to work around m



apparitions. Yes, of myself, I was very

proud. The young woman watched m

from a safe distance, twenty feet or so

while I got my balloon and took thmorning run. Later I could see the youn

girl playing happily over by the rang

hree lounge.During the following nights, the eight

grade girl, the young woman, and th

ittle girl would come whenever I wa

out there. Usually they came one at ime. There seemed to be a pattern to it

wo days on and two days off for

while. Then they’d miss a day. Thehey’d begin a new cycle of two days o

and two days off. I frequently wondere

about the cycle because I knew o

nothing about my human body tha



operated on such a two-day cycle

Always they came from over behind th

range three lounge. When they left, that’

where they would return. Soon I wasnhe slightest bit afraid whenever I woul

see the young woman or the young gir

over by the range three lounge, because had come to believe that was where m

mind stored all of my apparitions.

Over breakfast, one morning, I told m

friends, Steve, Wayne and Doug abouhe chalk white women I was seeing.

began by laughing at myself, expectin

hem to join in. They never did. Insteadhey silently exchanged serious glances

Then Steve pleasantly suggested tha

some afternoon when I had nothing els



o do, I should check the soft groun

over behind the range three lounge fo

boot prints. Perhaps, he suggested,

might find a set that matched the bootworn by the eighth grade girl. H

pointed out that her boots would b

smaller than any man’s and thereforewould leave a distinctive set.

I objected, saying there couldn

possibly be any boot prints over behin

he range three lounge because I couldnpossibly create even small boot print

by hallucinating. Steve smiled an

responded, “That’s my point, CharlieRemember, when you do find small boo

prints over there, the way me and th

boys have in the past, that’s exactly m

point.”



The whole conversation made me ver

nervous. Once again, I became afrai

hey didn’t understand how difficult m

duties were, how difficult it was to geup every weekday morning, alone in th

darkness at 3:00 a.m. and drive some 2

miles completely alone out into thnighttime desert, how easily a man’

fears could get the best of him in th

nighttime as he tried to perform even

simple task, like reading a thermometeronce he became certain that some youn

eighth grade girl was playing game

behind him-a young girl with two incong claws, who could come up behin

him so fast that she could kill him wit

mpunity anytime she felt like it.



wanted to make them understand that

mattered not whether the girl was real o

only a figment of my imagination. If

panicked, I would be dead either way. Nervous because of their continue

silence and furtive, knowing glances,

responded to Steve, stammering, “Donook at me like that Steve. There isn

anything the matter with me. Maybe

could use some rest, and some mor

vitamins or something, but I’m just asane as any man here! I enjoy being up

here with you guys. There isn’t anythin

out there in the empty darkness that fear!”

Steve smiled, good friend that he was

and responded, “I know Charlie. I agre

here isn’t anything whatever wrong wit



ou. What worries me is that th

darkness out there isn’t empty! Jus

remember, you’d have to be some kind

of super human to create boot prints ihe sand just by hallucinating out there i

he darkness.”

The next day the ranges remaineclosed. As usual, I was the only on

allowed to go out onto them. Out o

boredom I went in for the noon mea

early. I was surprised to find that thbase was almost deserted. Only the new

cook was manning the chow hall. He ha

prepared the noon meal for only himseland me. He had plenty of work waitin

for him, so I wolfed my meal and hurrie

back out to the ranges.



The mid-day run went fast enough.

was killing time until the last run of th

day, the one at 2:30 p.m. It was a ho

summer afternoon with light and gentlwinds. I had both the front door and th

side door of my weather shack open.

had just finished phoning the winds in tDesert Center. I was standing just insid

he front door of my weather shack, wit

my back sort-of towards the open fron

door. I had taken off my sunglasseshanging up the phone with my right hand

ust laying the completed wind repor

down on my desk with my left. It wasuch a beautiful day, and I was really

happy. I had been singing songs and eve

dancing around a little in the brigh



sunshine. It was hot, very hot. I ha

measured the temperature at 114 degree

Fahrenheit in the shade. I’d taken t

carrying double and triple canteens owater. I was being extra careful with m

water supplies. I heard a slight soun

outside on the gravel behind me. Thphone in my hand began tingling wit

electricity, and my radio suddenly fuzze

over with a light static. An unusual

gentle gust of wind came in through mweather shack and then blew on throug

he graveled range three area. Withou

hinking much about it, I turned around tsee what was going on outside.

As soon as I turned, and my gaze ha

passed out through my open front door,

saw her. It was the young woman. Sh



was standing out there alone on the sof

gravel, just past my theodolite stand

probably 60 feet from me. Only thi

ime, she wasn’t wearing the fluorescensuit that she always wore at nigh

Consequently she was not floating as sh

frequently did at night. This time shwas standing naturally up straight on th

soft graveled soil watching me. She wa

wearing what appeared to be

relatively ordinary white aluminucanvas jumpsuit with white nylon rubbe

boots, standing alone, out in the brigh

hot, noonday sun, with her solid chalwhite skin, unusually thin, animate

frame, large intelligent bright blue eyes

he gentle southeast wind blowing he



short, nearly transparent white, blond

hair to one side, smiling pleasantly a

me. It was a sight that I will neve

forget. I wasn’t afraid or even startled. had become certain that she was just

figment of my imagination. I felt

certain disappointment with myselfbelieving that the heat was starting t

affect my brain. The glare from th

bright sunshine was intense and hurt m

eyes, which had adjusted to the shadenterior of my weather shack. Thi

caused me a great deal of confusio

because it meant that in order for meyes to feel pain while actually focusin

n on her, the light rays reflecting off he

had to be real. Therefore, she had to b

real.



The young woman stood there fo

perhaps another 10 or 20 seconds. Then

with a happy smile on her face, in

smooth fluid fashion, she turned to heright and took off sprinting towards th

range three lounge. It was one of th

most beautiful sights that I have eveseen. She was in full stride, the wa

Greek statues usually depict Mercury

he messenger of the gods. When sh

approached the northeast corner of thrange three lounge, she covered the las

five feet or so by putting both fee

ogether and jumping towards it, the waa baseball runner might approach secon

base. She covered the short distance t

he range three lounge at more than 2



miles per hour. The whole even

happened so fast that for a while, I stoo

numbed and wondering what ha

happened.After giving the matter extensiv

consideration, I remembered Steve’

words from the breakfast table. Since thdirt was soft over behind the range thre

ounge, perhaps I should go over ther

and carefully check for boot prints

Cautiously, then, I put on my canteen belwith two full canteens of water. I took

good drink of water from my thir

canteen hanging from a nail in mweather shack, and very cautiousl

stepped outside through my front door. I

was a beautiful day outside, in spite o

he intense heat. The desert floor wa



sizzling hot and getting hotter ever

minute. The day before I had brough

wo eggs out from the chow hall. Just fo

fun I had fried them on the hood of mruck. With salt and pepper they had

asted quite good. Today, the deser

floor was even hotter.It was with a great deal of caution tha

approached my steel theodolite stan

and found a spot which I could lea

against, enjoying its feeling of emotionasecurity. I was hesitant to progres

further towards the range three lounge. I

wasn’t the intense heat that made mhesitant. It was the sight of Range Fou

Harry standing out in the open, about

quarter mile down on the bunker road t



he northeast. He was a young mal

about my height, with chalk white skin

and large bright blue eyes that stretche

part way around the sides of his headHe had very short nearly white blond

hair. In his hands he was carrying a soli

white pencil like object about 18 incheong. He stood there naturally, watchin

my every move. He obviously intende

hat I should see him. “So, even m

hallucinations have guards,” I remarkegrimly to myself. I stood there by th

heodolite thinking things through for

ong time. “How can a hallucination of oung woman be so intense that

ncludes her own set of guards?”

wondered.

After a long time, probably more tha



a half hour, way up the valley toward

range four, I could see the young woman

he eighth grade girl, and the little gir

playing happily, hiking, circling towardhe mountains to the northeast. As the

approached the mountains northeast o

me, Range Four Harry, still standing ohe bunker road, finally began fallin

back along the pavement. Then, h

suddenly turned away from me an

melted into the sagebrush behind him. waited by my theodolite stand for a lon

ime, probably another fifteen or twent

minutes. Apparently alone again, cautiously walked over to the spo

where I had seen the young woma

standing. Clearly visible in the soft dir



and gravel, were her boot prints.

followed them step for step over to th

soft dirt behind the now deserted rang

hree lounge. I noted that from the deptof the boot prints, even though she stoo

as tall as I did, she weighed onl

between 90 and 110 pounds. Numb, hotsweaty, and a little afraid, I carefull

retraced my footsteps back to m

weather shack. Virtually every step o

he way, I recited to myself the words“It can’t be real. Whatever happened,

ust can’t be real!” By the time I ha

returned to the safety of my weatheshack, I had succeeded in convincin

myself that nothing unusual ha

happened and that this was just anothe

ordinary hot summer day in the desert. I



was the only way I could feel sane

secure, and comfortable again. Singin

my songs to myself, I took the 2:30 p.m

run early, phoned Desert Center ausual, locked up my weather shack, shu

down the diesel as normal, and drov

my truck back into town, completelconvinced that nothing unusual ha

happened that day.

I felt I needed more rest, so I took th

afternoon easy. I was walking over toevening chow, crossing a large vacan

area on the Mojave Wells base, when

my casual friend Greg, running hardcaught up with me. Emotional and intent

he caught me by my right elbow an

stopped me out in the open.



“Charlie!” he exclaimed, nearly out o

breath, “I’m glad I caught you. I have t

ell you about this coming Tuesday.”

“Oh? What about next Tuesday?” asked, waiting for him to breathe again.

“I’ve got to tell you, Charlie,” Gre

continued emotionally. “Steve made mpromise. He said that you had to be told

He said he’d die before he let thos

Desert Center generals surprise you a

hey’re planning. Something’s upCharlie, something real big. Steve said i

he told you, they’d suspect him. He sai

hey’d break him down for sure ancourt martial him. Me, now, they’l

never suspect me. I can tip you off an

get away with it.”



“Tell me what?” I inquired.

“About this Tuesday’s inspection,”

gasped Greg. “Those Desert Cente

generals are out to get you, CharlieThey’re planning a big surpris

nspection to get you next Tuesday.”

I chuckled. “I’m always ready foanything, Greg. They can come inspec

my weather stations anytime they fee

ike. You must be mistaken, though. No

even my own commanders are alloweo come up here and inspect me. The

must be coming up here to inspect yo

guys.”“No! No!” exclaimed Gre

emotionally, grabbing my elbow harder

“You don’t understand, Charlie. It’s no



he Desert Center base commander. It’

he Pentagon generals who are comin

on Tuesday. It’s those generals from

back east that must be out to get yobecause they’re the ones coming.”

“How do you know?” I asked

stuttering and betraying my innenervousness.

“Today, it happened right afte

breakfast,” answered Greg, “Right afte

ou got in your truck and started drivinback out to range three. I tell you the

must have been watching you. Tha

Desert Center base commanding generahad it timed perfectly. You were jus

heading out onto the ranges when h

phoned up here and ordered everybod

o immediately head in to Desert Cente



for an emergency briefing. Everyon

except for that new cook and you, had t

go. Charlie, the way he did it, we al

hought that nuclear war had beedeclared.

“Once the air policemen had u

standing at attention in that briefing roodown at the Desert Center comman

post, the base commander himself cam

n and personally delivered the orders

He ordered all of us except you to spenhis weekend and Monday morning

preparing this base here at Mojav

Wells for inspection. He said the basedoesn’t have to be clean, or eve

military. It only has to be safe. Any

safety hazards have to be repaired o



clearly identified and marked. Only th

chow hall and the airman’s club have to

be spotless. He ordered that you wer

not to be used for any clean up dutiesHe wants you to be well rested an

ooking just the way you usually are

You are not even supposed to be told inadvance of the inspection. He swore tha

he would court martial any man wh

disobeyed his orders.

“Everything else up here is to be lefooking just the way it normally is. H

said that four specially chosen ai

policemen would be posted on thMojave Wells front gate at 4:00 p.m. on

Monday afternoon. They will remai

continuously on duty all throug

Tuesday, until midnight in the evening



The air policeman will be lead by som

special young eight-stripe chief maste

sergeant named Smith. They are ordere

o guarantee that the Mojave Wells bases empty and secure. He said only yo

will be allowed to come and go as yo

please. His orders were that every onof the rest of us are to begin leaving thi

base and heading in to Desert Cente

mmediately after finishing our noo

chow on Monday. We’re to check intohe visiting airman’s barracks down a

Desert Center. There will be hourly rol

calls and bed checks starting at 10:0p.m. on Monday evening, continuing al

day Tuesday, until midnight on Tuesday

evening. The air policemen wil



accompany us wherever we go. O

Tuesday morning, after escorting us to

breakfast at the Desert Center chow hall

hey will escort us to the Desert Centebase theater where we will spend th

day watching Air Force training films.”

“But, I don’t get it, Greg,” I protested“What’s any of this got to do with me? I

sounds like it’s you guys who are in ho

water and getting inspected. It doesn

sound like the generals care at all aboume.”

“That’s not how the rest of us see it

Charlie,” responded Greg. “If only yohad been there, standing at attention wit

us. When the general finished speaking

he asked if any of us had any questions

Steve, Doug, and Wayne were in th



front row in the middle, next to Smokey

They all took one step forward at th

same time, and Steve requeste

permission to speak. The general agreedSteve got real emotional. He told th

general how he, Wayne, and Doug had

been out on the ranges so long, therwasn’t anything out here they hadn’t see

many times over. He said that at least h

and Wayne and Doug had never had to

face them alone. He told the general that wasn’t right that they should expec

ou to go out there alone just to stand fo

some white wolf inspection. He beggehe general to let him or Wayne or Doug

go with you to guard your back, or a

east to let one of them wait for you a



he range three gate. He said every ma

n the room owed you his life. He sai

his whole place was safer because o

ou, and now it was our duty to protecou the way you’d been protecting us.

“We all thought that Steve was going

o get put in the brig, but the DeserCenter commander just listened politely

He told Steve that the orders had com

from the Pentagon and weren’t his t

change. Then he ordered Steve, Wayneand Doug to remain silent and not to as

any more questions.

“Then Smokey took one step forwarand requested permission to speak. Tha

Smokey, you know Charlie is on

ntelligent person. He knew just how t

ake the general. He began by laughing



ittle bit. He pointed out to the genera

hat he is the senior cook in the Mojav

Wells chow hall, and that you and he are

brothers. Then Smokey asked the generawhat they expected you to eat for chow

during the white wolf inspection.

“The general replied that you woulbe issued a double set of K-rations t

cover you while everyone else was a

Desert Center.

“Then Smokey laughed. Charlie, wish you could have seen old Smokey a

work. He knows that general. Smoke

pointed out that you are a big eater. Hsaid that you considered those tiny K

rations to be little more than appetizers

He told the general that what you neede



was real food, fried eggs, meat an

potatoes, if you were to be expected t

show off that lion-like roar of yours

Smokey asked the general to leave hialone in the Wells chow hall to make

sure that you get fed proper with goo

coffee and good meals. That waSmokey said, the general could be sur

he inspection would go the way the

planned. That way, if anything wen

wrong, your brother Smokey would bright there with the hot coffee, frie

eggs, and hamburgers just the way yo

ike them. He’d get you right back tour lion-hearted self, so you could b

right back out there for another one o

hem white wolf stand-ups, just like the

wanted. You could see he had the



general thinking.

“Then he worked his ideas deeper int

he general’s brain. He told the genera

hat if they let him stay up here with youhe Pentagon generals and their whit

wolf friends could inspect you when yo

were eating your meals with Smokey. Hsaid that he would be sitting at the tabl

right there beside you, with his back t

everyone, generals, white wolves an

all. I tell you Charlie, soon Smokey hahat Desert Center base commande

aughing and agreeing to everything

Afterwards, Steve, Wayne, and Dougwere outside hugging Smokey an

rubbing his hair saying, “Thank God yo

were there. Charlie is going to need al



of the help that he can get.”

Greg paused for a minute, catching hi

breath. Then, he stated quickly, “I’d

better get out of here, Charlie. Jusremember, we were all in agreement tha

ou needed to be warned.” Then he too

off double timing towards town, before could ask any more questions.

The days passed quickly enough

nspection morning was another clear

hot, beautiful day out in the desert. Thmorning run went smoothly enough

Smokey and I had the time of our live

over breakfast. The entire base wadeserted except for us. We laughed unti

our sides hurt. How could Air Forc

generals hold an inspection in a sillie

manner? Yes, inspection morning wa



sure fun. I bid Smokey good-bye, an

headed on out for the 8:00 a.m. balloo

run. As I was leaving the base area,

noticed that the special guards haalready taken up their positions on th

front gate. Two other inspection team

were already beginning to go through thbarracks and the buildings on the base o

Mojave Wells. Another guard wa

heading on up to the chow hal

obviously to get Smokey out of the waof the inspection teams. I was laughin

o myself at the time. I didn’t pay muc

attention to the inspection teams, but as was heading past the motor poo

ooking back at my barracks, I notice

hat two people with an unusua



appearance, and with unusually whit

skin were inspecting it.

The morning balloon runs were als

uneventful. The ranges certainly seemedeserted. I came in for the noon mea

singing my sunshine songs, and parke

as always in front of the chow halWhen I entered, Smokey already had on

of the tables in the front of the dinin

area prepared for the two of us. It wa

set with food and everything. The bachalf of the dining area had been close

off with a curtain. One air force guard,

sergeant Smith, minded the curtain. AfteSmokey and I had taken our assigne

places, with our backs to the curtain, th

curtain was opened part way. Smoke

and I laughed like brothers, ate our food



discussed fast cars and wild women

otally ignored whoever was seate

beyond the curtain, and generally had

wonderful meal. When we had finisheeating, the curtain was closed. I sai

good-bye to Smokey, left the chow hal

aughing, and headed back out to thranges.

The last wind measurement for the da

was a simple matter. I turned my radio

up loud, filled my balloon with heliumand wondered how an enlisted man’

ife could get any better. The desert, by

one o’clock in the afternoon, was 114degrees Fahrenheit and getting hotter

The humidity was less than 1%. Even

short walk in the hot sunshine woul



push a man to the limits of hi

endurance. My theodolite had becom

hot enough to burn my hands if I wasn

careful. There were the usual gentlbreezes, light and variable from each o

he distant mountains in turn. Th

balloon run was little more than child’play. I kept a sharp eye out for anythin

unusual, but the ranges appeared to be s

deserted that soon I felt foolish for eve

checking.I daydreamed my way through the las

hree theodolite readings, and carefull

ocked up my burning hot theodoliteThen, singing, I casually strolled acros

he hot, dry, graveled, desert pavemen

o my weather shack beyond. I adjuste

he volume on my radio, completed m



calculations, and phoned Desert Center

Dwight answered. I expected to laugh

while with my friend. On a day lik

oday, how could there be any hurry, buDwight was anxious, and highly agitated

He insisted that the Desert Center bas

commander was waiting on thcommand-post phone line, not for th

readings, just for news on how the ru

was going. Dwight claimed the Deser

Center base commander was highlconcerned that the range three loung

might not be ship-shape. He insisted tha

check on it as soon as possible.Dwight refused to accept my win

measurements. He said the bas

commander didn’t want him wasting m



ime by even writing them down

Flabbergasted, I reassured Dwight that

would double check the loung

mmediately and phone him back beforheading in for the day. Then, Dwigh

really confused me. He said that the bas

commander, a two star general, hadvirtually begged him, an enlisted ma

ike me, to ask me to phone Deser

Center again as soon as I got back fro

he lounge. Dwight said he needed treassure the general that I was all right

The whole thing seemed so backward

o me that I could hardly restrain maughter. “Doesn’t the general have

spare colonel to come up here and sla

me into line?” I mused. Dwight wa

deadly serious and didn’t seem to b



putting me on. Laughing and happy,

exclaimed, “Don’t worry, Dwight. I’m

axpayer. Tell the general that I own thi

place and everything out here is mine tplay with for the rest of the day. Tell hi

’ll walk right over there to the loung

and set everything I own, straight.” Thenhung up the phone, still laughing an

still confused.

One of my songs came on the radio.

spent a few more minutes dancinaround in the hot sunshine, singing alon

with the song and sometimes tossing m

cap high in the air and catching it. Thenhappy and laughing, I stepped back int

my weather shack. I put on my cantee

belt with its two full canteens. I took



big drink of water from my third canteen

The day sure was hot. I hung my thir

canteen on a hook on the wall and turne

off my radio. I closed, but didn’t lock mweather shack and strolled happily of

across the open graveled square toward

he range three lounge. I was wonderinhow I could ever be happier.

A few minutes later and in the fullnes

of time, I arrived at the northeast corne

of the lounge. My runs for the day werover. On a nice day like today, how

could there be any hurry. “Forgot th

general,” I laughed. “He’s got hiproblems. I’ve got mine.”

I rounded the northeast corner of th

ounge singing loudly. For a brie

moment I heard a gentle fluttering o



scurrying off in the dry desert on th

other side of the lounge. It meant nothin

o me. I continued singing and walking

The front door to the lounge stood widopen. I stopped and wondered for a few

minutes. I had checked it earlier, jus

after breakfast. I distinctly remembereclosing it. The ranges were deserted

weren’t they? Unable to resolve th

question, I shrugged it off, and casuall

walked on inside.Inside, the lounge had two large room

with a large, tall doorway in between

The ceilings in the lounge were high, bunot unusually high for the hot deser

Except for the open door, virtually th

entire north wall of the lounge consiste



of a nearly continuous row of larg

picture windows with a second row o

ventilation windows below them, a

chest height. The ventilation windowopened inward. There weren’t an

windows or doors on the other thre

sides. Thus, once inside, nothing coulbe seen to the east, to the south, or to th

west.

The floor of the lounge was smoothl

poured concrete. Out in front of thounge, running east and west along th

north side, was a concrete sidewalk. I

adjoined the building and the deserbeyond. In addition, the roof of th

ounge hung out over the sidewalk on th

north side, creating a reasonably coo

shaded area. Currently, all of th



windows that could be open had bee

opened. Consequently, the lounge wa

swept with occasional cool breezes. O

a hot day like today, it was a pleasanoasis sitting on the edge of a bruta

cauldron.

A heavy wooden desk with elephone, and a simple padded meta

chair with padded metal arms, sa

against the far south wall of the firs

room. Around the desk sat several othesimilar chairs. I noticed that the chair

had been neatly arranged against th

walls. The entire lounge had been swepand dusted since I had checked it afte

breakfast-and all of the windows ha

been opened. I thought about that for



few minutes and wondered. Maybe

was just my memory, I decided, and

shrugged it all off.

Still singing, I proceeded into thsecond room to close the open windows

The second room contained a steel

egged couch neatly aligned along itnner east wall. Next to the couch, facin

he windows and the door was a larg

old wooden legged padded chair wit

padded exposed arms. The chair wapositioned at a 45 degree angle to th

sofa, in line with the sofa’s far end. I

spread out about 5 feet from the end ohe sofa. The chair sat empty, facing me

As soon as I saw it, its position made a

mmediate impact on me. I was certai

hat I had positioned the chair against th



far wall when I checked the lounge afte

breakfast. Looking at the chair, I becam

mmediately convinced that someone ha

recently been sitting in the chair waitinfor me.

I remembered that a few week

earlier, my friend Doug claimed thawhen he, Steve, and Wayne had come

out here one morning, they had found th

furniture arranged as it is now, with an

ordinary nylon hammock, typicagovernment issue to cargo plane loa

masters, tied neatly between the arm o

he chair and the arm of the sofa whicnow stood directly in front of me. Th

furniture was in the same position now

hat it had been then. Doug said th



hammock was only 5 feet long an

herefore, only big enough to have held

oung child. Steve had insisted that th

hammock be folded neatly and left on thchair. Then they had all headed back int

base. Doug said that the next day whe

hey came out, the hammock was goneAt the time, Doug wanted to mak

certain that I hadn’t accidentally taken it

stood there stunned. The only logica

explanation was that someone must havsat in the chair, and used the sofa to

secure a hammock style baby bed.

walked over to the chair and tested iand the sofa. Both the sofa and the chai

slid easily on the smooth concrete floor

Such a cradle couldn’t have supporte

much more than 30 pounds before th



furniture slid and the supports collapsed

Everything seemed so impossible, s

ncomprehensible and backwards.

I wrestled with these contradictionfor a few minutes. I put the chair and th

sofa back the way they had been

complete with the 45 degree angle. went back to singing one of my songs

and began the process of closing dow

he open windows. I was just closing th

second one when the lounge phone begaringing. It startled me, but I suppose

hat it must just be my friend Dwigh

from Desert Center, calling to check upon me. I crossed over through the inne

door, back across the first room, and

answered the phone laughing, “Loung



hree, airman Charlie Baker.”

nstinctively faced the phone, the sout

wall, and turned my back to the ope

door, to the outside, and to the windowbehind me.

There was nothing on the phone, but

dial tone. I supposed that maybe Dwighhadn’t waited long enough for me to ge

o the phone, so I began dialing th

Desert Center Weather Station, but afte

only 3 or 4 of the numbers had beedialed, the line went dead. “Militar

equipment!” I laughed to myself, and pu

down the receiver. I had decided to lenothing ruin my perfect afternoon.

I decided to wait by the phone for

few minutes in case Dwight called back

took off my cumbersome canteen belt



aid it down on the desk and sat down i

he chair. I was in the process of openin

one of my canteens when my eyes wer

drawn to something white movinoutside in the bright sunshine. Casually,

finished my drink of water and put dow

my canteen. Another soft breeze rustledhrough the lounge as I sat there. While

watched through the windows, outside

he chalk white eighth grade gir

smoothly took up a position in the thisagebrush. She had silently come u

over a sagebrush covered ridge

housand feet or so to the northwesDeliberately choosing an open area i

he thin sagebrush, she came to

standing position some 50 feet northwes



of the doorway to the range three lounge

While I watched, she remained standin

here, completely at ease in the hot

bright sunshine. She stood looking at mhrough the windows. I sat on the chai

nside the lounge, watching her in return

She obviously wanted me to see that shwas out there. The chalk whit

aluminized canvas jumpsuit that sh

wore, matched the chalk white color o

her skin. It did not glint in the brighsunshine. With her large bright blu

ntelligent looking eyes and her shor

blonde-white hair, she appeared to bhe very personification of a hot, bright

summertime desert afternoon. Sh

appeared to be a creature create

entirely out of sunshine.



I remained sitting casually in the chai

by the desk. Despite the fact that th

chalk white girl appeared to be perfectl

real, I still considered her and all of thchalk white creatures to be nothing mor

han hallucinations. Considering that

had closed a couple of the opewindows, I supposed that perhaps m

brain was suffering from the effects o

he heat. Under the circumstances,

seemed only natural for me, aftereciting a few prayers, to stand u

slowly and stroll casually over to th

open front door. There was a nicbreeze through the doorway. Using m

eft forearm, I leaned naturally agains

he left door jam and studied the chal



white eighth grade girl for a few

minutes. I was hoping that with the fres

air, my brain would soon return to

functioning normally, at which time expected she would go away. As I stood

here, I spoke to the young girl as I ha

rained myself to do. I said pleasantly, ahough talking to myself, “Well, you sure

are having fun out there in the sunshin

oday.”

The chalk white young girl didnanswer me. Instead, moving smoothly

she closed the distance between us t

about 25 feet, obviously intending tattract my attention. Despite her silence

she appeared to be reacting to m

words. I studied her for a few minutes

She seemed happy enough, but sh



appeared to be noticeably more nervou

han normal. Remembering the word

hat Steve had spoken, I noticed that th

molded aluminized nylon boots that shwas wearing, left visible boot prints i

he soft dirt where she was standing

This made me curious. I partly closehe door behind me and casually steppe

out onto the concrete sidewalk. I said t

her, as though talking to myself, “Don’

be afraid. I’m not going to touch you. ust want to see you close up. I want t

get a better look at the boot prints whic

ou are making in the soft dirt ovehere.”

I had taken only 3 or 4 steps in he

direction when she appeared to panic



She began by running backwards fo

several steps. Then she turned and wen

crashing through some small thi

sagebrush. Then she took off running afull speed until she had disappeare

back over the sagebrush-covered ridge

which lay about 1000 feet northwest ome. I stopped and stood still for a few

minutes. I shouted loudly, calling afte

her, “Don’t be afraid. I didn’t mean to

frighten you. I wasn’t going to touch youYou can come back. I won’t hurt you.”

There was no response. I stopped an

hought for a few minutes, timing her ashe ran. She had been traveling mor

han 35 miles an hour when she arrive

at the ridge. To run that fast, her nervou

system would have to be operating som



2 and a half times faster than the nervou

system of any human. This convinced m

hat she had just been a figment of m

magination. “Oh, Well,” I shrugged“I’ll just have to be more careful in thi

hot sun.”

I walked casually over to where thoung girl had been standing an

nspected the boot prints that she had lef

n the soft dirt. Their reality frightene

me. Using my left boot, I carefullspread the soft dirt around and erase

her boot prints. It made me feel muc

better.It was a hot day, and I wasn’t in an

hurry. Military duty is such a constan

hing. I casually retraced my steps bac



o the lounge doorway, wiped the swea

off my brow, and strolled back into th

cooler, shaded lounge. I needed to ge

my canteens, phone Desert Center, andrest a few minutes before heading bac

nto base. I reopened the close

windows, left the front door wide openand returned back to the chair by th

phone. The phone was still dead.

As I sat there, I noticed the chal

white eighth grade girl carefully circlinout to the west, way out along th

sagebrush-covered ridge. After a few

minutes of circling and searching, waout to the northwest of the lounge, sh

appeared to locate an open path throug

he sagebrush that led back to the ope

spot that she had vacated earlier. Thi



ime, she was much more nervous tha

before. With a series of slow cautiou

moves, frequently retracing her steps

she deliberately returned to the opespot where she had previously bee

standing. I was shocked by the precisio

with which she unerringly returned to thvery same piece of earth. Had I no

wiped out her previous boot prints, sh

would have once again been standing i

hem. I wondered, “How can mhallucinations care about such precision

and know the desert better than I do?

The young eighth grade girl waitewhere she was, watching me through th

window. She obviously intended onc

again that I should see her.



I sat waiting for a few more minutes.

was still supposing that my brain wa

playing tricks as a reaction to the day’

heat. I decided that I had no choice but tgo back outside and face the figments o

my imagination. I took another drink o

water, stood up, and attached the fulcanteen to the belt on my militar

fatigues. Then, after saying some mor

quick prayers, I went out slowly an

deliberately to face whatever lay outsidn the sunshine… real or imagined.

Reaching the front door, I waited for

few minutes, enjoying the gentle breezeThen I spoke slowly to the young gir

Once again, she cautiously closed th

distance between us to about 25 feet



“I’m glad you came back.” I stated, a

hough talking to a young girl. “I didn

mean to frighten you. I know I don’t lik

t when other people frighten me, so I trnot to frighten other people in return.”

She smiled at me nervously but didn

say anything. Then I heard a gentlbumping sound coming from beyond th

hidden west side of the lounge. Before

could react to it, I heard a simila

bumping sound behind the hidden easside of the lounge. “Who’s there?”

nstinctively called out. I was greete

only with silence. “That’s a lot of noisfor a deserted stretch of desert,” I openl

muttered. The chalk white girl remaine

on station and seemed to smile and shak

her head in agreement with me.



decided that I should move to a mor

defendable position. I reassured th

chalk white girl not to be afraid. Then

while singing one of my songs, I gingerlstepped outside. I positioned myself s

hat I stood next to, and just west of th

front door. I placed my back hard againshe narrow section of the wall betwee

he door jam and the first window.

stood there for a few minutes, waiting t

be attacked. Ignoring the girl for minute or so, I began visually checkin

he immediate vicinity for danger and fo

an escape route. Not finding anything onote, I continued visually checking th

ridgeline straight north from the lounge

The girl obviously wanted me to pa



more attention to her. With a swift fluid

motion, she suddenly skipped to her lef

and began making a series of sof

meadowlark like sounds as she did soShe continued doing this until she wa

about 20 feet in front of me, directly i

my field of vision. Then, dancing sommore and making a few waving han

motions, along with the meadowlar

sounds, she skipped backwards an

sideways, back to her previous positionwatching my eyes as she did so. Thi

ook me by surprise. “So, you want m

o look in your direction?” I inquiredShe smiled in return and continue

skipping and performing a little dance

obviously intending to keep my attention

A gentle wind came through th



shaded area, moving a few dry bits o

he amber dust and sand as it journeye

on its way. Then, I heard a mor

substantive sound out in the sagebrusbehind me and to my right. I turned m

head slowly, trying to comprehend th

sights before me. Diagonally off to mright and just a little east of north fro

he lounge, stood the other young chal

white woman. She had just finishe

aking up a position some 30 feet frome, in an open spot out in the thinl

spread sagebrush. She was smiling a

me, and watching me intently. Shseemed more nervous than usual. Dow

by her waist, she was holding a squar

chalk white pencil like object in he



hands. Off to her left, and diagonally of

o my northeast stood Range Four Harry

Like the young woman, he was standin

fully upright, holding a chalk whitpencil like object in his hands. The

both smiled pleasantly at me. Straigh

east of me, I could see an AmericaUSAF sergeant wearing six stripes

double timing from the end of the bunke

road, diagonally across the gravele

square, in the direction of my weatheshack. Behind him, another USAF

sergeant wearing eight stripes, double

imed in the direction of my theodolitstand. As I watched, too surprised to

react, they both disappeared out of sight

hidden by the edge of the loung

building. I could hear the last sergean



barking muffled orders to his men

“Brown, take his truck. Jones, shut dow

hat generator and guard that generato

door. Johnson, take that supply shedAnderson, take that side door to hi

weather shack. I’ll cover the theodolit

stand and his front door. Brown, whehe comes, we’ll drive him your way

Remember men, when the said airma

comes out of there; he’s going to b

hysterical. Don’t waste any timemmediately knock him cold anyway yo

can, and let the medical colonel worr

about putting him back together.”I turned to the young woman an

remarked calmly, “That’s quite

reception party they have planned.



wonder who they’re expecting.” Th

oung chalk white woman nervousl

returned my smile. It seemed like sh

was going to say something to me, buhen decided against it. Something whit

off to my left caught my eye. I turned m

head over that way. Another young chalkwhite male had stepped out from behin

he west side of the lounge and stoo

smiling, confronting me some 35 feet of

o my left. He too, was well armedTurning back to my right, I could se

another older, well armed, chalk whit

male standing down at the edge of thbunker road. Behind him stood a

American three star USAF general and

bird colonel. A few hundred feet behind

hem, and further down the bunker road



stood another group of five or so, chal

white creatures clustered around a tal

and dignified chalk white male. He wa

aller than most humans, perhaps six feehree inches or taller, but not unusuall

all for one of the creatures. Togethe

hey made a stunning sight as they alstood there watching me in the ho

afternoon sun.

I could hear more muffled command

coming from the sergeants. They werout of sight behind the lounge and behin

me to my right. I could hear Anderson

shouting anxiously, in muffled sounds“Sergeant, Smith. The side door to hi

weather shack can’t be held. It’s too

narrow in there. He’ll overpower me fo



sure. Request permission to join you a

he theodolite stand and take him out i

he open, head on.”

Smith responded immediately“Request denied. Come forward to th

corner of the shack and hold tha

position at any price. I will assist yowhen he comes.”

Anderson continued, his shouts heav

with emotion, “Sergeant Smith, wit

respect, we can’t hold that gap betweehe shack and the cable fence. The sai

airman can escape through that hol

here, into that heavy sagebrush. Thehe’ll run down towards range two to th

southeast, there! Once he’s out in tha

heavy sagebrush, he’ll shake off ou

white friends. Then he’ll take cover an



go to ground. He’ll elude us unti

nightfall. In the darkness he’ll escap

completely. At night out there, we’l

never find him.”Sergeant Smith could be hear

shouting back angrily, “Hold that corne

as ordered, sergeant! Hold it at anprice! Let our white friends worry abou

covering the gaps!”

I stood there for a few minutes, quietl

studying my situation. Then I turned the young chalk white woman. She ha

slowly closed the distance between us t

a mere 18 feet. Speaking calmly anpleasantly, I said to her, “Well, I see

ou’ve brought friends, and some o

hem seem pretty interested in holding o



o the real estate.” She seemed to fin

my statement amusing. After silentl

aughing, she smiled in return. In th

background I could hear the mufflesounds of the sergeants reporting in

Sergeant Smith barked out in muffle

sounds, “Brown.”Then Sergeant Brown, answered

“Standing ready to be attacked

sergeant!”

Then Jones, “Standing ready to battacked, sergeant!”

Then Johnson, and Anderson in turn

“Standing ready to be attackedsergeant!”

Once again I turned back to the youn

woman and said, “Well, it looks like I’m

quite a bit safer over here by you than



would be if I were back there by m

weather shack. Back there I’m afraid

would be in the way, and maybe a littl

under foot.” Once again, the chalk whitwoman laughed silently for a shor

while. She gave me another happy smil

and looked as if she were going to sasomething to me, but after a few mor

minutes, she appeared to decide agains

t. As I stood there, studying he

carefully, she appeared to calm down great deal.”

I continued, still believing that I wa

speaking to one of my hallucinations“This is some brain malfunction part

’m having here, but none of yo

figments of my imagination worry me



What does worry me, though, is tha

American colonel over there. It looks t

me like he’s perfectly real. If he is, h

sure will put me to work in this hot sunust to impress that three star genera

next to him. When that general sees how

dirty this place is, that high rankinofficer will court martial me for sure.

keep my weather shack clean an

military, but I had no idea they wer

going to send some three star general ouhere just to check up on me. Somebod

must be out to get me really good! I thin

’d better get out of here before thosofficers start playing games with me fo

real. Now don’t be afraid or surprised.

plan to take off running straight past you

right up the valley to the north, there. I’



going to have to brush past you to do it

but don’t get angry. I figure you must b

well armed to have come in this close

so don’t go getting trigger-happy on me’m not even going to touch you. I’m jus

rying to save myself from that three sta

general over there. There’s a good shadhiding spot just over that ridge north o

here. If I take off running suddenly, tha

general and those sergeants will neve

catch me. You can follow me if you wano. We can both find some shade unde

hat big sagebrush up there, and thos

officers will never find us. It’ll be simple matter to hide out there unti

sundown and let my brain cool off. I’l

clean my weather shack this evening s



t’ll pass inspection. If those officer

come back tomorrow, I’ll pretend that

was sick from the heat today, and los

rack of which day they were comingThen I’ll fake some stomach pains an

get a week off relaxing down in th

Desert Center hospital. You know, if do this right, I might even have the

hinking I’m some kind of hero who got

heat stroke doing his duty out here in th

bright sunshine.”The young chalk white woman seeme

o find it all very amusing. Afte

aughing some more silently, she smiledat me pleasantly, but refused to step

aside. She intentionally moved to he

right, to a position that blocked m

planned escape route. From over th



ridge north of me, two more young chal

white males appeared. Off to my left

another chalk white creature appeare

over the ridgeline in the distance. Stilanother chalk white young girl steppe

out from behind the hidden west side o

he lounge, plugging another gap in thcircle. Then another young chalk whit

woman stepped out from the hidden eas

side of the lounge. All of them stood

smiling pleasantly at me. I turned bacowards the young chalk white woma

standing now some 15 feet in front o

me, and remarked nervously, “Well, idoesn’t look like I’m going to be goin

much of anywhere does it?”

She smiled in return, as if to agree.



“Well, you know I’m a fun lover,”

responded, making light of my difficu

situation. “There isn’t that much to b

said for hiding out in the hot sage on day like today anyway. Yes, now that

hink about it, I’ve decided to stay righ

where I am, and let my brain cool ofright here in the shade. Standing here i

his nice breeze will let my brain coo

right down. In a little while all of thes

hallucinations around me will just floaaway. If that colonel comes over her

and gives me a hard time, well you know

enjoy being the center of attention, evef it is at my own court martial.”

The chalk white woman and the rest o

he chalk white creatures seemed to fin



t all very amusing. In the distance off t

he east, the general could be hear

exclaiming to the colonel, “The guts o

hat tough young soldier! He’s all-alonecornered, and defenseless. He’s got no

help coming and he’s still going to mak

a stand there with his back to the wallThat young airman is going to make u

come get him! And if we do, that desert

hardened soldier will fight us ever

nch, tooth and nail! Where did they fina man like that?”

Another gentle wind whispere

hrough the shaded area. It played answirled through the fine, light sand. I

formed the soft amber shifting sand int

beautiful whispering drifts and piles an

miniature dunes around my feet. As i



did so, the young chalk white woman i

front of me slowly closed the distanc

between us to some 10 feet or so. Off t

my left, the chalk white eighth grade gircontinued her slow, happy dance as sh

oo, slowly closed the distance betwee

us to less than 15 feet. Then as if ocommand, the pre-teen girl made

quick, sudden move towards the buildin

o my left, giving off a soft meadowlar

ike sound as she did so. She obviouslntended to attract my attention, and

nstinctively turned my head in he

direction. This exposed my bare righemple to the young woman in front o

me. Moving too fast for me to react, sh

raised the square white object that sh



held in her hands, pointed it straight a

my exposed right temple, and activate

he instrument. My mind suddenl

seemed to wander and go out of focus. found myself unable to move my arms o

egs. I could move my head only wit

great difficulty. I tried desperately toshake it off, but I couldn’t. Smiling an

pleasant, Range Four Harry approache

me from my right side. After he had

approached to within arm’s length, thchalk white woman strode up along sid

him. He seemed to be measurin

something with the instruments in hihands. Then he appeared to communicat

something to the young white woman b

making a series of soft meadowlark lik

sounds, intermingled with a few dog-lik



barks. The young woman, smiled an

responded pleasantly, “You must speak

English when we are in this close. H

speaks only English, and I do not wanhim frightened.”

Range Four Harry responde

respectfully, “Yes, teacher. The controlsare holding, but he is more intelligen

han we expected. You are correct in

our desire not to frighten him. We mus

be very careful. If he becomes agitatedhe will use his high intelligence to defea

our controls and break out.” H

continued, “It is fine with me if thAmerican general and our ambassado

come forward now.”

A short pause followed. Then th



general, the colonel, and the whit

creatures standing next to them bega

slowly advancing across the gravele

area towards the lounge. Behind themhe second group of white creatures wit

he tall dignified one in the center als

began coming forward. The general anhis party were about half way across th

graveled area when they stopped. Th

general called to the sergeants, “Smith

They’ve got him up here behind thounge. Bring your men forward an

help Harry and the teacher anyway yo

can.”Sergeant Smith could be heard barkin

commands to his men, “Johnson, you an

Jones cover the west side of the lounge

Stand ready just behind that northwes



corner. Anderson, you and I will cove

he east side of the lounge. Brown, stan

ready by his truck! I don’t trust tha

ricky desert hardened soldier! Hshould have broken in panic! He shoul

be running by now! He’s up to somethin

and I’m not taking any chances!” Then could hear the sergeants double-timin

nto position. After a minute or so

sergeants Smith and Anderson could b

heard arriving at a position on theastern side of the lounge. After catchin

heir breath, the two Sergeants slowl

stepped into view from around thnortheast corner of the building. Smith

speaking slowly and respectfully to th

oung woman, stated, “Teacher, we are



here to assist you and Harry in an

manner you wish. Would you like us to

ake control of the said airman?”

“No,” the young woman respondedspeaking English. “Step back out of sigh

behind the lounge. He must not b

frightened.”“But we are his kind,” sergeant Smit

calmly objected. “He should know tha

we are here beside him, and he’s ver

bull-headed. He may need a goobeating so that he obeys his orders, an

’ll be happy to give him one.”

The young woman responded proudlyobviously showing a high level o

feminine pride, “He is not the slightes

bit afraid of me, my daughter, or any o

my cousins. He has trained himself t



relax and stay calm whenever we ar

around. He is more afraid of you an

our officers than he is of us. I am quit

certain that he will not need a beatinwhen we are around.”

When she had finished, a short paus

followed while sergeant Smitconsidered what to say next. Thi

obviously angered Range Four Harry

Still facing me, and without turnin

around, he stated in even tones, “Yousergeants were told ‘No’. Now ste

back behind the corner of the building a

he teacher has ordered.”Upon hearing this, sergeant Smit

flinched in obvious fear. He grabbed th

arm of the sergeant next to him. Then h



mmediately stepped back behind th

corner of the lounge, dragging the othe

sergeant with him as he did so. Then h

could be heard ordering the othesergeant to transmit similar orders to th

wo sergeants hidden behind th

opposite corner of the lounge. He coulbe heard saying, “Tell them to remembe

he teacher has ordered them to stay ou

of sight behind the lounge. Remember i

hey disobey the teacher’s orders, shwill kill them as she killed the others

and there is nothing I can do about it!”

Turning towards me, the teacher statedpleasantly, “Charlie, please step

forward three steps, away from th

building.” Not able to refuse, I steppe

forward three steps in much the sam



manner that a hypnotized man migh

have. By now, the three star general and

his party had reached the corner of th

ounge building. Behind him, the taldignified chalk white male and his part

were more than half way across th

graveled square. Some members of thchalk white party had broken off, an

appeared to be in the process o

nspecting my weather shack, m

heodolite, and the surroundinbuildings.

Turning towards the general and hi

party, the teacher stated, “I would likhe parents and their children to mee

Charlie, now.”

“Yes, teacher,” the general replied



respectfully. “Go right ahead wit

anything you wish.” The general’s part

and the party with the tall dignified mal

behind him stopped and waited patientlwhere they were. Another young tal

white woman with a thin small so

beside her stepped out from behind thhidden western side of the lounge. A

second young chalk white woman with

small son and a little girl beside he

stepped out from behind the hiddeeastern side of the lounge. Her son had

noticeably heavier build than the othe

children. His build was more like that oan ordinary human child. The teache

addressed the other two women, both o

whom appeared to be about her age

“This is Charlie Baker,” the teache



stated proudly. “He is just perfect for m

pet project. See how gentle he is, an

see how easily we can control him.”

A short pause followed. Then thoung chalk white woman standing to th

east, while giggling some, said, “He sur

s ugly teacher, but my son just loves tofollow him around. When my son wa

sick last month, he kept asking if h

could come out and play with him.” A

ight laughter went through the crowdEven the general could be hear

aughing. Then the young woma

continued, “Yes, teacher. Please includemy son in your pet project.”

The young woman on the wes

remained standing silently, studying m



ntently. Then showing remarkable calm

she asked pleasantly, “Did I understand

ou correctly, teacher? You say he is

very intelligent? More intelligent thamost other earth men?”

“Yes,” replied the teacher. “Charlie

uses his intelligence to think thinghrough very carefully before he take

action, as you saw him doing today.

believe that your son will learn a grea

deal by studying him carefully anseeing how he does things. Charlie is no

ike the other weather observers. He i

very gentle around the children. He doemany funny and laughable things that th

children and I enjoy. He also keeps hi

head in an emergency better than an

other earth man that we have seen.”



The other young woman thought for

minute. Then she turned to her tall thi

son, who looked vaguely like a young

hin version of Einstein. She asked, “Arou sure you want to do this? We are a

free people. You can say ‘No’ if you

wish. You do not have to do this, youknow.”

The little boy thought for a minute o

so. Then he responded hesitantly, “Yes

mother. It will be fun, and I do not wano be separated from my friends.”

“Alright,” replied his mother, “You

may join the teacher’s pet projectRemember! Do not get too close to him

and remember, if anything ever goe

wrong, if Charlie ever touches you,



will ask your uncle Harry to kill him.”

“Oh, do not worry about anything,

aughed the teacher. “Your son will have

he time of his life playing around himCharlie enjoys playing around children

and you saw how easily we hav

controlled him this afternoon.” Then theacher turned to me and stated

“Charlie, please turn towards the loung

doorway.” Not able to refuse,

complied. Then the teacher continued“Charlie, please walk into the loung

and stand by the desk, facing th

elephone.” Once again, I complied.When I reached the southeaster

corner of the desk, I stopped, and stoo

waiting by the desk that held th

elephone. Range Four Harry followe



n behind me. Using his instruments, h

appeared to switch the electroni

controls from my right temple to my lef

emple. After doing this, Harry took up guard like position near the open fron

door, remaining always on my left side

Then, upon a command from the teacheren or fifteen of the chalk white creature

calmly entered the lounge. Most of the

entered the second room in the lounge

but two of them joined Harry in the firsroom, taking up similar guard-lik

positions, one on my right and one on m

eft. The young pre-teen girl remaineoutside, watching me through th

windows. Then the general and th

colonel entered the room. They took u



standing positions along the wall behin

me. After a few minutes, the tal

dignified chalk white male entered an

ook up a standing position alongside thgeneral. The teacher asked the sergeant

o take up positions out in the desert s

hat they also could observe thceremony through the windows. At last

he teacher entered the room.

She began by inspecting th

arrangement of the crowd in aauthoritative manner. She felt that the tal

white male would be more comfortabl

f the crowd were rearranged somewhatShe began by having me turn until I face

he eastern wall. Then she had me step

sideways and backwards several step

until I was more centrally located. Afte



he crowd had settled down, she began

obviously very proud of he

accomplishments so far. Speaking i

both a proud and pleasant manner, shbegan by addressing the crowd, “This i

Charlie Baker. He is extremel

ntelligent. He is the one who saved mittle girl’s life when she was lost dow

on range one.

“You must be very cautious and very

gentle when you are around him. He ivery perceptive of the world so h

frightens very easily. In many ways, h

frightens far more easily than the otheweather observers before him. He like

o sit quietly and enjoy the sights an

sounds in the world around him, much a



we do, and that has made him th

enjoyable person that he is.

“He believes in God. When we com

n close, he believes that his Goprotects him from us. That is why he ha

not panicked today, even though he i

errified of us. He is so perceptive thahe is almost never completely surprise

when we come in close.

He is so frightened of us that h

refuses to believe that we are real. Eveso, he has accomplished something tha

he general and I have never seen before

All by himself, he has trained himself tcalm down and relax whenever I, m

cousin, or my daughter, come around. A

ou all saw today, even though he i

errified of us, he never become



hysterical, or breaks into panic or run

when we come around. As you all saw

oday, he has trained himself so well

hat we can come in as close as his armwill reach, and he just stands ther

watching us, singing his favorite songs

hinking things through, and reciting hiprayers.”

The teacher paused for a few minutes

obviously waiting for her words to sin

n. Then the tall, dignified chalk whitmale, now standing more or less behin

me and to my left, spoke to the genera

on his right. As he spoke, I noticed thahe, too, like the teacher and Harry, spok

perfect English, without even a trace o

an accent. He said, obviously showing



father’s pride, “My daughter ha

accomplished something trul

remarkable. You know general, before

now, I would have never thought ipossible. If my daughter had tried t

approach any of the others, the way sh

walked right up to Charlie today, thewould have panicked and we woul

have had to kill them all.”

“Yes, Mr. Ambassador,” replied the

general respectfully. “I agree completelwith you. Charlie is different from th

others. The day he saved your littl

granddaughter down on range one, hproved himself to be one young tough

nosed quick thinking desert hardene

soldier. That brutal young man ca

handle anything you or your people fee



ike putting him through. I believe he i

ust perfect for your daughter’s project.”

The ambassador nodded politely i

agreement. Then he stated, “Now it iime for us to thank him.”

The general replied, “I am in tota

agreement with anything you wish to doMr. Ambassador. As I’m certain you

already know, we were all happy whe

he saved your little granddaughter’s life

and we have already thanked him plenty gave him several days of free medica

eave and let him have fun at governmen

expense down in Los Angeles. I’mcertain you are also well aware that

was an easy thing for that tough youn

muscular soldier to trample down som



sagebrush and scare off a few

rattlesnakes. He is well able to handl

anything that lives out on range one. I’

also certain you know well, he was onldoing his military duty.”

“Yes,” replied the ambassador. “But

have only one daughter and only ongranddaughter. The others would hav

panicked, disobeyed your orders, an

ran away, leaving my only granddaughte

o die in terror out there in thsagebrush. This one overcame his fears

This one came back. This one saved her

must thank him personally. It is ouway.”

The teacher ordered me to turn aroun

and face the ambassador. Apparently

afraid that I would panic, she als



ordered me to stand looking down at th

concrete floor in front of him. Slightl

hypnotized as I was, I complie

mmediately. Then the ambassadorspeaking in calm even tones, said

“Charlie Baker. Thank you for saving m

granddaughter’s life. I have only onchild and only one grandchild. You

heroic actions have pleased me mor

han I am able to describe. I hav

ordered my people to learn your namand to learn to recognize you by sigh

You will never have anything to fea

from my kind.”I was unable to respond.

The teacher ordered me to turn an

face the open front door. Then she too



hanked me, saying, “Thank you, Charli

Baker, for saving my little girl. She i

named Playful Butterfly. She mean

everything to me. I don’t know how could have lived without her.”

Then the teacher’s little girl came i

hrough the open door. She approachedo within 6 feet of me and stated, usin

perfect English, “Thank you, Charli

Baker, for saving my life and returnin

me to my parents. I should have thankeou before but I was afraid of you. I

was silly of me to be afraid of you.

ove to play around you now, and I amnot afraid of you any more.”

Hypnotized as I was, I was unable t

respond.

Then the ambassador turned toward



he teacher and stated in fatherly tones

“Yes, daughter. You may proceed with

our pet project. I agree that Charlie is

perfect choice.”The teacher smiled in return an

answered, “Thank You, Father.”

Then the ambassador and his partwalked out through the open loung

door, turned to the right, and

disappeared from view, hidden by th

featureless eastern wall of the loungeThen several of the chalk whit

creatures from the second room left th

building, studying my face closely ahey did so. However, several youn

chalk white women who were in th

second room informed the teacher tha



hey were afraid to leave the buildin

because I was very ugly. They wer

afraid to pass by so closely in front o

me. The teacher responded by laughingThen the teacher ordered me to wal

over to the desk, and stand facing th

southeastern corner of the room. Thehe women thanked the teache

profusely, and hurriedly left the building

The general and the colonel visuall

checked the second room to insure that was empty. Then they left the buildin

and disappeared from view, headin

owards the east. They took the sergeantwith them as they left. Sergeant Smit

could be heard barking orders to th

other sergeants, “Brown! Anderson

Johnson! Jones! Abandon your posts and



form up with me here on the bunke

road!! TODAY, gentleman!!”

Then the two white guards left th

room in a military fashion, and fell bacowards the east as well, leaving onl

he teacher and Harry in the room wit

me. The teacher in a friendly mannewhile facing me, said, “Thank you

Charlie Baker. You have helped both o

our governments more than you will eve

know.”Then she too, left the building an

disappeared from view, heading bac

owards the east, leaving only Harralone in the room with me. In a brotherl

manner, Harry said, “Charlie. Pleas

sing one of your favorite songs for me



and please stand there in the corner unti

ou have finished it. You know, the

eacher and I always enjoy hearing yo

sing.”Unable to refuse, I calmly bega

singing one of my favorite songs. I ha

ust begun when Harry, standing some 1feet from me, pointed his electroni

nstrument directly at my exposed lef

emple and activated the instrument. A

gentle shudder seemed to go through mbody. Once again my mind wandered

and seemed to go into a daze. It took m

a few minutes to get control of mhoughts again. When I finally regaine

control of my thoughts, I was stil

standing by the desk, singing my son

and looking at the corner. I felt numb al



over and a little shaky. I seemed to hav

missed a few lines of my song. I coul

hear the footsteps of someone outside o

he sidewalk, walking away. Evehough I was shaky, somewhat numb, and

stunned, it was immediately apparent t

me that I was no longer hypnotized anhat I now had total control over myself.

I stood there by the desk, singing m

song. When I had finished, I remaine

standing there. It took me severaminutes to overcome my intense anxiety

nner fears, and to regain control ove

my muscles again. Finally, I turnedaround slowly and stood with my bac

n the corner, facing the empty room wit

ts open front door. Through th



windows, out in the distance, perhaps

housand feet out on the sagebrus

covered ridge, I could see the chal

white eighth grade girl. She stood ouhere, mostly concealed, watching m

from a distance. Fearful, confused, an

shaky now, I watched her for severaminutes. The gentle desert breezes stil

softly whispered through the ope

ounge. Still filled with fear and anxiet

and a little sick to my stomach, arranged two of the nearby chairs t

form a defensive line in front of me. Stil

shaking in fear, I picked up my canteeand canteen belt that lay on the desk.

ook the canteen from the belt an

carefully attached it to my militar

fatigue belt. The weight of this canteen



along with the weight of the first cantee

hat I had previously attached to m

waist, was too much for my thin fatigu

belt. It slipped the friction buckle anfell to the floor, along with my fatigu

pants, leaving me standing there in m

under shorts. I was too nervous to laugat the obvious spectacle.

I hurriedly pulled up my pants and re

closed my fatigue belt, leaving only on

canteen on it. Then I wrapped thcanteen belt around my right hand

ntending to use it as a weapon. With my

eft hand, I took hold of the seconcanteen and stood waiting to be attacked

After standing there for ten minutes o

so, I began to realize that except for me



he lounge really was completely empty

There really wasn’t anything in th

ounge that was going to attack me. Stil

he realization was a long time comingKeeping my back against the easter

ounge wall, still shaking and feelin

numb, I began slowly edging towards thopen front door. I began calling ou

oudly, towards the second room as I did

so, “Is anyone there? Am I alone?” Onl

he gentle desert breezes answered mquestions.

I was about half way to the front doo

when the phone on the desk began tring. Expecting it to be Dwight, I hurrie

back to the desk, keeping my back to th

wall and facing the open front door as

did so. Picking up the phone, I answere



nervously, “Hello, lounge three.”

The voice on the other end, sounde

almost exactly like my friend Steve

“Charlie,” the voice stated pleasantly“The party is over. You can go back to

being ‘Yourself again.”

Taken in, and thinking I was speakino my friend Steve, I began shouting int

he phone, “Steve! Thank God it’s you!

need your help. I’m trapped out here i

he range three lounge. Get the range ratand the power wagons, and come get m

OW! Have Wayne and the guys stay

down by the range three gate like yoalways do. Just bring one power wago

beyond the gate. Bring it around to th

front of the lounge so I can jump in. I’



rapped in here. HURRY!”

Laughing pleasantly, the voice on th

other end of the line said, “Just sta

calm, Charlie. Steve and the range ratare still down at Desert Center. You are

otally alone out here, and you are in n

danger whatever. We are all pulling outEverything out here is yours to pla

with, alone, for the rest of the day.”

“Steve? Is that you?” I screamed int

he phone, “Steve?” But the person ohe other end just slowly hung up. A

empty line answered my screams.

slammed down the phone and stooready to be attacked. After I had caugh

my breath, steadied my nerves, and

few more minutes had gone by, I decide

o try to phone my friend Dwight a



Desert Center. Keeping my back in th

corner, and facing the open front door,

picked up the phone, and carefull

dialed the Desert Center weather stationThe phone seemed to be workin

correctly. However, I noticed that the

phone was answered before I haactually heard it ring. I was suspicious

at first, but the person on the other en

sounded almost exactly like my goo

friend Dwight. “Charlie,” he answereaughing, “Golly, it’s good to hear from

ou, fella’. You better hurry and get bac

nto base or you’ll be missing eveninchow at the mess hall. You’ve had one

fine afternoon, guy. The Desert Cente

base commander has ordered your frien



Smokey to have a nice steak dinne

waiting for you down at the Wells chow

hall, Charlie.”

“Dwight?” I shouted into the phone“Something’s happened. I’m trapped ou

here in the range three lounge. They’r

outside waiting for me. You got to telSteve! Dwight, you have to tell the rang

rats to come get me!”

The voice on the other end responde

by laughing pleasantly, “Golly, CharlieYou sure are a card. This is the bes

practical joke I have ever seen anyon

ry to play on me. You know that DeserCenter base commander was in here a

he weather station, just a few minute

ago. Golly, he sure was impressed wit

our work, Charlie. I personally saw



him handing the major a great big awar

for you. Then he was telling the majo

how impressed the Pentagon was wit

he way you have been keeping thranges clean and ship shape an

everything. I am certain the general ha

ordered your friend Smokey to prepare really nice big steak dinner for you. I’l

ust bet he has it waiting for you righ

now down in the chow hall. The genera

said they were all so happy with whaou did, that you do not even have t

ock up or shut down or anything. So

hurry up, get over to your truck, and ghead on in to the chow hall, Charlie

Steve and your friends will come ou

and close everything down tomorrow.”



“Dwight?” I shouted, now in disbelief

“Is this really you?”

“Of course, it’s me, Charlie,” laughed

he voice on the other end. “Who elswould it be? Hey, I have got to go now

guy. You know I have to be down town

n a few minutes to pick up my wife frowork, so I have got to hurry. You head

on in to chow, Charlie. All of the run

are cancelled for tomorrow. We wil

augh some more on Thursday.” Withhat, the voice on the other end of th

phone line slowly hung up, leaving m

alking to the dial tone.Stunned and confused, I stood holdin

he phone, remembering the perfec

English, remembering that Dwigh



owned two cars, and that Dwight’s wif

was proud to spend her time being

housewife, who did not work outside he

home. I stood watching the open frondoor for several minutes, trying t

decide what to do next. After severa

minutes, I slowly hung up the phone. Iwas obvious that once again, I wa

otally on my own. I quickly assemble

my canteens and equipment, and m

failing, vegetable courage. With my bacagainst the eastern lounge wall, I bega

slowly working my way towards th

open front door. I kept calling out as did so, “Is anyone there. Is this plac

empty? Stand back, all of you. I’

coming out.” Only echoes off the empt

nner walls answered my calls.



Reaching the open front door,

anxiously moved over to the door to th

nner second room. The windows stoo

open, and the room was empty. Quickly closed and locked the open front door

Then I retreated into the second inne

room and closed and locked its innedoor. Barricaded now into the lounge,

began cautiously and carefully checkin

outside. The desert seemed empt

enough. About 1000 feet out in thdesert, out on the sagebrush covere

ridge off to the northwest, partiall

concealed, the eighth grade girl stoomotionless, watching me from afar. Up

along the mountains to the northeas

perhaps a mile and a half in the distance



could see the three star general and th

colonel standing there in an open

exposed position, also watching me fro

afar. The general and the coloneobviously intended that I should se

hem. The ranges appeared to b

otherwise deserted.It had been a long tiring afternoon. B

now it was past 4:00 p.m. I was ver

ired, still shaky, and still feeling a littl

numb. Feeling temporarily securbarricaded in the lounge as I was, I mor

or less collapsed into the soft chair t

rest. The room was warm and quiet. Thchair was very comfortable. I was ver

ired, and I fell asleep for a short while.

Forty-five minutes or so went by as

slept. It was going on 4:45 p.m. in th



afternoon when I was awakened out o

my sleep by the sound of footstep

outside on the sidewalk. “Is anyone ou

here?” I called out, still half asleep, anwaking up slowly. The footsteps could

be heard double timing away toward

he east. As I began to shake thsleepiness from my body and my eyes

off in the distance to the east I could hea

one of the sergeants shouting in subdue

ones, “Tell the general he’s all rightHe’s still in there sleeping.”

Then in the distance off to the east,

could hear sergeant Smith barking back“Good work, Anderson. Now let’s ge

back up by the general before we upse

he teacher.” Then the silence of th



gentle late afternoon breezes returned.

I sat there relaxing in the chair for

few minutes thinking things through.

still felt a little numb in my body, and wasn’t in any hurry to move. Off in th

other room I could hear the phon

ringing, but I decided I was better off noanswering it, so I just let it ring for

while. It was now 4:55 p.m. in th

afternoon. As I sat there watching th

afternoon shadows slowly progresacross the desert and across th

sagebrush outside, I realized that I had

decision to make. Whether I liked it onot, I was going to have to come out o

my barricaded lounge, face whateve

was outside, and fight my way, i

necessary, back into base. There wa



simply no other way. Drinking the last o

he water in one of my canteens, I wa

now down to just one canteen of water

ot enough to last me through anotheday. I had no food with me and I wa

starting to get hungry. The heat of thi

day was starting to pass and the cooleevening hours were approaching

Another problem was that the lounge ha

outdoor plumbing. There was simply n

other way. I decided that if I was evegoing to make my move, I should make

now. I sat there quietly resting for a few

more minutes, formulating a plan. didn’t expect my truck to be in workin

order. After all, the sergeants had spen

most of the afternoon keeping me from it



So I expected that I was going to have t

spend the night walking back into town

Since it was some 22 miles away, I wa

going to need more than the one canteeof water that I had with me, if I wa

going to make it alive. Remembering tha

had a third canteen in my weatheshack, and a gallon jar of water in m

ruck, I decided I couldn’t leave th

range three area without first getting a

east two more canteens of waterfighting to get them if I had to.

My mind made up, I slowly stood up

stretched, adjusted my uniform, retiemy military boots, wrapped the empt

canteen belt around my right hand, an

prepared for battle as best I could. The

began calling out in loud tones throug



he open windows, “Is anyone out there

f you are, you had better get out of her

now. This time I mean business. I’m

coming out now, one way or the other’m warning you. I’m ready to fight. So i

any of you are out there, you better tak

off running now.” Approximately a miland a half off to the northeast, on the sid

of the mountain, I could still see th

general and the colonel standing ther

watching me. Behind them stood twsergeants. The other three sergeant

were just arriving, having double-time

down the bunker road to the ammunitiobunker, and then north along the base o

he mountain to where the general an

he colonel stood waiting. Since thi



meant that at least three of the fiv

sergeants would be too tired to pursu

me from such a great distance. I decide

he time to make my move had arrivedFirst, I took a minute or so to slowl

recite my prayers and get myself read

for action. Then I quickly closed thopen windows. Next, after visuall

checking the first room and the sidewal

outside, to make certain they wer

empty, I jerked open the inner door andhen the front door, stepped outside, and

slammed the outer door shut behind me

Once outside in the fresh air I doublimed straight north for about 30 feet ou

nto the empty sagebrush, noticing th

many boot prints in the soft dirt as I di

so. Then I circled west until I was out i



he sagebrush perhaps 200 feet west o

he lounge. I was shouting out into th

empty desert as I did so, “Stay out of m

way. Everybody, stay out of my way. I’going back in to base and none of yo

are going to stop me. Do you hear me?”

The desert and the sagebrush beyonwere quite empty. There was nothing i

my way, no sergeants, no chalk whit

creatures, not even a jackrabbit to slow

me down. It took a while for the shock omy solitude to sink in. Once I was som

200 feet or so, west of the range thre

ounge, I began quickly double-timinsouth through the sagebrush parallel wit

he lounge’s west wall until I wa

directly opposite my truck. I stopped fo



a few minutes to survey the range thre

area. It was quite deserted. Both th

front door and the far side door to m

weather shack stood open. Nearer to mehe south door to the generator shac

also stood open, although the diesel

nside had been shut down. My trucwas still in the same position that I ha

eft it earlier in the day. It sat on th

gravel inviting me, opposite th

northwest corner of the generator shackfacing north with the window on th

driver’s side rolled down. Partiall

concealed, out along the sagebruscovered ridge, now some 1200 fee

north of me, the chalk white eighth grad

girl remained partially concealed

watching me carefully. Out along th



base of the mountains to the northeas

perhaps a mile and a half distant fro

me, the general, the colonel, and the fiv

sergeants stood watching me. They werspread out along the base of th

mountain, still obviously intending that

should see them.I was still certain that I would have t

hike back in to town. I was thinking o

my truck only as the place where I ha

stored my extra water. I obviouslneeded the extra water from my truck

and the extra canteen from my weathe

shack, if I intended to make it back intown on foot.

I surveyed the range three are

carefully. By moving several feet bac



and forth, I was able to convince mysel

hat the generator shack was empty

Then, to protect myself from an

surprises in that area, I suddenly rusheup to the open generator shack door an

slammed it closed. Then I retreated bac

o my open position out in the sagebrushsome 200 feet west of my truck.

Now feeling somewhat more secure,

addressed the problem of retrieving th

extra water from my truck and my extrcanteen from my weather shack. I spent

few minutes studying the deserted rang

hree area. Deciding it was safe to do soapproached my truck in a cautious an

gingerly manner. My full gallon jar o

water still lay in a shaded area on th

floor on the passenger side where I ha



eft it earlier in the day. Carefully,

opened the door on the driver’s side.

was not expecting my truck to still be i

working order. I felt certain that mruck had been left sitting where I ha

eft it, as part of some type of elaborat

rap. Carefully, I crawled over thdriver’s seat and retrieved the gallon ja

of water. Returning to the gravel outside

took a quick drink of water an

carefully refilled my canteens. I begafeeling safer now that the range thre

area still appeared to be deserted.

Carrying my two full canteens, cautiously walked over to my weathe

shack, shouting loudly as I did so.

paused for a few minutes and carefull



surveyed my weather shack from a shor

distance outside. Feeling a little braver

gingerly stepped up into my shack

closed and locked the side door. Then grabbed my third canteen hanging fro

he hook where I had left it. My hand

were still a little numb and shaking. Thcanteen slipped out of my hands and fel

harmlessly to the floor. It took me a few

minutes to stop shaking, pick up th

canteen, and get control again. Then quickly stepped back outside an

resurveyed my military situation.

The range three area was stildeserted. With my nerves still a littl

numb from fear and my muscles stil

shaking, it was obvious to me that

would never be able to hike the 22 mile



back into town. With no help coming, i

was with a certain grimness that

concluded my truck was my only chanc

for getting back into Mojave WellsTherefore, I closed and locked up m

weather shack. Then, trap or no trap,

cautiously re-approached my truck. Iprobably took me 10 minutes t

convince myself that it was safe for m

o again open the door on the driver’

side, place my canteens in on the fronseat, and climb into the driver’

position. When the truck starte

normally, I was so surprised that it tookanother few minutes for me to decid

what to do next. Finally getting my truc

nto gear, I began heading slowly back i



o town. I was still feeling a little numb

all over and my muscles were stil

shaking, so initially I drove very slowly

For the first fifteen minutes or so, stayed in low gear and idled along at 1

miles per hour. Then my shakiness bega

o subside, and I finally got it intsecond gear. When I got back to th

range three gate, I was glad to find

open even though I was certain that I ha

closed it when I had come out earlier ihe day. I continued on in towards base

passing through the section of the roa

where the sagebrush was unusually highThat section of the trip was unusuall

frightening and nerve racking, bu

actually quite uneventful. When the roa

reached the north side of the runway, i



was all I could do to keep myself fro

ust parking my truck and running the res

of the way, straight across the runway, in

o base. The last stretch of road, whicfollowed around the eastern end of th

runway, past the intersection to the rang

one road, I found absolutely terrifying. was certain that my every movement wa

being watched by something white out i

he sagebrush, but nothing actuall

appeared to be out of place. Still, it wawith great relief that I finally arrived a

he main gate to the ranges. My hand

were still a little numb and very shakybut otherwise I had no trouble stoppin

my truck, getting out, opening the mai

gate, and getting back into my truck



After pulling my truck through the fina

gate, I stopped and closed the gat

behind me. Now, for the first time,

started to relax and breathe easier.By now, it was almost 7:30 in th

evening, well past the normal closin

ime for the chow hall. My emptstomach was reminding me that I ha

missed evening chow. I got back in my

ruck. More out of hunger than anything,

headed on up towards the Mojave Wellchow hall. Now, at last, I began to laug

off my silly nameless fears, the unusua

supposed hallucinations that I haexperienced in the hot sunshine, and th

generally laughable level of my failin

vegetable courage. “Remember, I’m th

brave one,” I laughed to myself. “Go



help the others,” I laughed as I drov

slowly across base. By the time I go

past the motor pool and into the barrack

section I was back to my old self. I wanow laughing and singing loudly. “Yes,”

said to myself as I took a deep breat

and finally got total control of mshaking muscles again, “It’s good to b

back. Maybe one of these days m

hallucinations will kill me but I’m no

going to let fear ruin this beautiful day.”When I arrived at the Mojave Well

chow hall, to my surprise, the chow hal

was still open. I parked my truck outsidand hurried to get inside. I called out t

my friend Smokey as I entered the chow

hall and carefully closed the screen doo



behind me. As soon as the screen doo

had finished closing, I saw my frien

Smokey. He was standing nearly froze

n fear behind the far end of the servinine, next to the clean and empty coffe

maker. On the serving line, off to hi

right stood a still warm, sealed steehermos full of coffee and a large brow

sack lunch. He had a half full tray o

packaged cracker squares in front o

him. He stood there continuallrearranging the cracker squares into nea

ittle groups. He didn’t look up or reac

o my presence as I came in. Hcontinued slowly, smoothly, and

endlessly rearranging the packages o

crackers, as though hypnotized, all th

while quietly humming a little tune



Behind him stood the open doorway t

he kitchen and the back storage areas o

he chow hall. Through the open door

could see the rest of the chow hall. Istood empty, still clean and spotless

From the appearance of the cracke

packages, it was immediately obvious tme that Smokey had been standing ther

for a long time, endlessly rearranging th

few packages of crackers in front of him

Seeing that he was in deep trouble, morerrified than any human can handle b

himself, I approached him slowly. Then

speaking softly and naturally, I said tohim, “Here, Smokey, let me give you

hand with those crackers.” He didn

respond but just continued as before.



slowly came around behind the servin

ine until I was standing next to him

facing him from the side. Understandin

his terror, I continued gently, “HereSmokey, I’ll watch your back while yo

finish arranging those crackers. Don

worry, Smokey. It’s me, Charlie. I’mright here beside you, guarding you

back.” Then I gently placed my hand o

he back of Smokey’s shoulders.

Smokey, still rearranging the crackersresponded slowly, still humming. Whe

he finally spoke, it sounded as though h

were speaking from some place faaway, “Is that you, Charlie? Is that you

beside me?”

“Yes, Smokey,” I responded gently

“It’s me Charlie. I’m here in the flesh



big as life. I’m here to protect you

Smokey. I’m here to guard your bac

while you finish rearranging thos

crackers. As soon as you finish, Smokeyou and I will take that sack lunch an

hat thermos of coffee outside. We’l

have us a picnic on the grass out behinhe chow hall. We’ll really have us som

fun. Until then, Smokey, I’m right her

beside you. I’m right here to protec

ou.”Smokey didn’t respond at first, bu

continued as before. Then he continue

slowly, “It’s late, Charlie. You shouldeave. You should save yourself while

hold them back. They’re out there in th

back, you know, Charlie. They’re ou



here in the back, behind me.”

Smokey’s response left me confused.

hought for a minute or so, wonderin

what to do next. The chow hall had certain quiet, attractive, deserted beauty

Through the open doorway, the spotles

sunlit kitchen stood obviously desertedThe late afternoon sun cast long beautifu

shadows through the windows on it

south and west sides. The golden re

sunshine created beautiful patterns onearly fluorescent orange highlights o

he highly waxed floor. As I studied th

red and golden fields where the sunshinplayed quietly on the highly buffed wax

a certain understanding of Smokey’

problem quietly invaded m

consciousness. There, on the highl



waxed floor, exposed by the lat

afternoon sunshine, could be seen th

boot prints of a young adult and tw

oung children. Off to the left, in thcorner by the stove, were another set o

adult boot prints, next to a large window

which stood open with its screenremoved and boot prints in front of i

none of the boot prints could have bee

made by Smokey.

Not sure what to do next, I turned tSmokey and stated, “You know, Smokey

t looks to me like you could use som

more crackers for that pan there in fronof you.” Then I bent down and bega

making some loud noises using th

sliding aluminum doors to the storag



bin that was below the serving line. I

seemed to help Smokey. His muscle

seemed to begin relaxing and loosenin

up, so I continued making noise. Thstorage bin was empty. Standing up

again and laughing mildly, I exclaimed

“Shucks, Smokey! That storage bin iempty. What say I just quick jump back

here to that back pantry on the right an

get some more crackers! Want me to

close that open window by the stovwhile I’m back there?” Without waitin

for an answer, I turned towards the ope

door and began slowly heading into thkitchen beyond. Smokey began loosenin

noticeably. Raising his voice slightly

and obviously getting a little contro

over himself, he exclaimed, “No



Charlie. Don’t go back there. It isn’t saf

back there, Charlie.”

“Why, Smokey?” I gently asked. “Wh

sn’t it safe back there? What is it that’back there?”

Smokey’s muscles continued to loose

noticeably. He began to move his legsome, and started to exercise his arm

more, all the time still arranging th

crackers. “They’re back there, Charlie

Don’t go back there. You’ll scare themike I did. They’ll kill you if you scar

hem. They told me so. That tall one i

he corner, he told me so. He said he’dkill me if I ever scared their childre

again.”

I stopped and waited in the kitche



doorway for a few minutes. The kitche

n the back was obviously deserted

Whoever had been there was long gone

My problem was my need to helSmokey. I paused for a few minutes

hinking things through carefully. Then

continued, “I’m glad you warned meSmokey. Was he the one who told you to

arrange the crackers?”

“Yes,” replied Smokey now showing

some emotion as he continued to looseup.

“And you’ve worn out almost all o

hose crackers, haven’t you?” continued.

“Yes,” replied Smokey, now starting

o show deep emotion.

“So they’ll understand that you nee



more crackers, won’t they?”

concluded.

Smokey was now becoming to

emotional to answer. “Here, Smokey’ll just get those extra crackers and b

right back. Then singing one of my song

oudly over and over, I strolled bravelback into the deserted kitchen, across th

highly polished open floor to one o

several pantries in the back that held

dozen or so military sized boxes ocrackers. Singing loudly to reassur

Smokey, I quickly picked a large bo

from the shelf. Still singing, I strollebravely back across the open kitche

floor, visiting and closing the ope

window as I did so. “There’s nobod



back here but me, Smokey.” I shouted

out loudly as I closed the window. “Thi

place is as deserted as a church in Gree

Bay on football Sunday.”As I strolled back through the ope

kitchen door, I could see that Smoke

was becoming very emotional as hprogressively got better control o

himself. I dropped the big box o

crackers down on the floor beside him

making lots of noise as I did so. Then noisily ripped open the cover an

riumphantly announced, “Here, Smokey

ow we’ve got us lots of crackers!Then I grabbed a big handful of the smal

cracker packages and carefully dumpe

hem into the pan in front of Smokey

making loud noises as I did so. Smoke



responded at last, by completel

breaking down emotionally. Letting go a

ast, of the cracker packages, he grabbe

onto my right arm with both of his armand hands, and dragging my arm in to hi

body for security, he began crying and

screaming, “Charlie, you’ve comeThank God, you’ve come!”

Putting my left arm around hi

shoulders, I gave him a big strong

brotherly hug, and answered gently“Yes, Smokey. It’s me. I’ve come for

ou.” Supporting Smokey with my lef

arm, and taking the coffee and sack luncn my right, I helped Smokey out fro

behind the serving line, across the ope

chow hall floor to the front door, and ou



nto the sunshine. Reaching the front o

my truck, I placed the sack lunch an

coffee on the hood and helped Smoke

sit down on the front bumper. He sahere for a long time, his head in hi

hands, crying in agony and in terror, unti

at last he finally got hold of himself. stood by him, rubbing the back of hi

shoulders, pouring him some coffee, an

holding it for him so he wouldn’t spill it

“I was coming for you, Charlie,” hcried. “I was coming for you like the

ordered. I was waiting way up the roa

owards Willow flats, up by thasergeant they posted up there, just lik

he general ordered. Along about 4:00

p.m. in the afternoon, they ordered me t

come get you. They said you neede



our friend Smokey to get you laughin

again. I was coming for you, Charlie

God knows I was coming. I took of

running towards the chow hall. Withouhinking, I disobeyed orders. They tol

me not to go back into the chow hal

They said just take the truck and comget you, but I came back in to get thi

coffee and these sandwiches that I ha

made up for you, and they were in here

They were all over in here, and thewere out in the back, looking through th

pantry and everywhere. I went to pieces

Charlie. Before I knew what wahappening, one of them came up behin

me. I became hysterical and bega

screaming. Then my mind came totall



unglued. It was like I was in a dream.

couldn’t control anything I was doing

All I could do was obey their orders an

stand there,Charlie, like you saw me, until yo

came. Thank God you came, Charlie

Thank God you came. I don’t know howcan ever thank you.”

Patting Smokey gently on the back o

his shoulders, I responded, “

understand, Smokey. I understandcompletely.” After Smokey finally go

hold of himself, laughing, I said, “You

know, Smokey, for all the Air Force hasput us both through today, we should

cook us up a couple of nice steaks, an

have us one nice picnic right out here o

he grass. There’s nobody else on bas



but us two. Nobody would ever know

how much fun we had at Air Forc

expense. If anyone ever asked about th

wo missing steaks, just say that I tooboth of them out to the ranges during th

white wolf inspection. What say, eh

Smokey?” Before Smokey coulrespond, I exclaimed happily, “Great

’ll go get a couple of steaks out of th

freezer and get that stove fired up. You

finish drinking that coffee and then comon in and show me how to cook them.”

Smokey thought things through for

minute. Then a big grin crossed his faceFinally, back to his old self, he bega

chuckling, and responded, “You sure are

something, Charlie. You’d eat your way



hrough a stretch in hell, wouldn’t you?”

Laughing, I responded, “You’re right

millennial hospitality 1 - millenial hospitality

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