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Millennial
Hospitality
By
Charles James Hall
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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
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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
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Missteps
Paperback Hero
The Teacher
The Happy Charade
Summer Rain
All That a Man Has
Rite of Passage
About the Author
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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This book is dedicated to the greater
honor and glory of
God
Who created us all, aliens included.
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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.
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.”
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“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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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’
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.’
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“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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.”
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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’
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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,
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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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
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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?”
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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?”
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“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
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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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.
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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
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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
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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,”
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.”
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“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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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“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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.”
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“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
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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.
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.”
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“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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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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
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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
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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?”
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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
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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
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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
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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,
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.”
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“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
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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
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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
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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’
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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.
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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… ?
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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,
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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,
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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
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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,
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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.
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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,
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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’.”
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“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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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would religiously forget whatever I ha
seen out in the sagebrush on range one
Then I thanked God for Smokey.
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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?’
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.”
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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.”
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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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.
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“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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.”
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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
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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,”
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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
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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.
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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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.
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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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
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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.
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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“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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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,
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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“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
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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“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.
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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.”
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“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’
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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.
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.”
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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“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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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“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
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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’
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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
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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
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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.
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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“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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.”
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.”
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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“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
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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
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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
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“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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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Center.
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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“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.
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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
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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.
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“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
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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
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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!”
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“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!”
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“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
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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
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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
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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
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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,”
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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“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
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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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
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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
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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.
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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.
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“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.
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“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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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“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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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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
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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
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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?”
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“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
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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“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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.”
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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
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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.”
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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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
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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
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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
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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’
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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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
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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.”
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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.
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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
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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
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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
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“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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.”
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“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
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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.”
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“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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.”
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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“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
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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
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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.”
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“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
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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
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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
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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?”
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“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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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“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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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?”
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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
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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
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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
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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!’
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“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
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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
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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
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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’
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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
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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
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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,
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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!”
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“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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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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
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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
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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’
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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?”
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“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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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“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
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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
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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?”
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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?”
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“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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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“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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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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.
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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,
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“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
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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.”
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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
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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
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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
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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. “
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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?”
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“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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.”
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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?”
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“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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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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
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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
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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
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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’
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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
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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
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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
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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!”
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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
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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
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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.
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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“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
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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
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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,
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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oung, innocent-a mind trained to forget
es-ignorance was certainly bliss.
believed that I had given everything
had, just to stay alive.
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.”
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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.
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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
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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.
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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“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.”
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“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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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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
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“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.
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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’
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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
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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
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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.
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“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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.”
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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,
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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’
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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
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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
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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
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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.”
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“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
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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.
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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.
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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