Flight of the Forgotten. Mark A. Vance

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СКАЧАТЬ Plexiglas material Lieutenant Ketchum had shown me at the very beginning of our search coincided with local eyewitness accounts of an explosion overhead that fateful day. Several people heard an aircraft orbiting high overhead in the clouds for some time before the sound of an explosion rocked the countryside. They naturally assumed the aircraft had crashed into Mt. Slioch, the highest terrain in the immediate area. A few miles inland and 1,200 feet above sea level, Mr. Slioch was hidden that day inside thick clouds.

      “You know, the natives think the airplane hit that mountain.” I said cautiously, gesturing toward Mt. Slioch in the distance.

      Smiling knowingly, Lieutenant Ketchum turned toward me and paused momentarily before answering. “They heard the explosion. They just assumed.”

      “Did you hit the mountain?” I asked pilot to pilot.

      “No, it was the second bomb.” he replied. “The heat from the blast was tremendous. Many in my crew were killed right away.”

      “They were …? Second bomb?” I echoed.

      “There were two bombs.” he stated matter-of-factly. “One was hidden in the right wheel well and another in the bomb-bay. The first one started an uncontrollable fire in engine number three and caused massive structural damage. All these pieces!” he declared, gesturing at the evidence in front of us. “The second one in the bomb-bay killed a lot of us before we finally crashed. You have to believe me! There was nothing I could do!” he insisted, pleading for my understanding.

      “I believe you, Jack. I just had to ask.” I replied, as he smiled weakly in return. “Why put them there though? Why put the bombs there?” I asked.

      “Because those were the easiest access points for the ground crew.” he answered cryptically.

      “But, who would do such a thing?” I implored.

      “You don’t remember now, but you saw it all when you were in spirit.” he replied, eyeing me steadfastly.

      “Me … spirit?” I gasped.

      “If it hadn’t been for you, it would have been a lot worse. You guided us through the transition.” he stated.

      “I guided …?”

      “You were there for us, helping us understand, helping us adjust. Then you chose to come back and help our families understand.” he said appreciatively.

      “I … I don’t remember.”

      “Of course you don’t. But you’ll remember it all soon enough.” he said.

      September 25, 1989, Gairloch, Scotland

      Throughout our stay in Scotland, the local people were remarkably curious about our activities and about what was being discovered. One woman told us about venturing to the crash site with her daughter and being confronted by at least a dozen young men in World War II flying attire that disappeared when she and her daughter started screaming hysterically. Another reported hearing a voice scream “Jack! Jack! Jack!” repeatedly when she was alone at the loch and could find no one else around. Several were adamant that mysterious hands pushed and shoved them down the hillside and each had a broken arm or leg to support their contention. Hidden from their statements was the ugly fact of what was done at the crash site in the days immediately following the crash. The Jack Ketchum crew remembered. They remembered well enough to vigorously defend the site against unwanted intrusion for the next five decades.

      September 29, 1989, Gairloch, Scotland

      It was getting close to dark on my last day in the search area, but I couldn’t make myself leave. Jack Ketchum had insisted that I return to the loch with him without telling me why. I’d followed reluctantly, though I knew it would be dark soon and I wasn’t feeling up to climbing down the hillside in the dark. It was a warm, perfectly still evening under a cloudless sky as I sat next to him and waited. I was still thinking about what he’d said about me being in spirit at the time of the crash and accepting the challenge of telling the families the truth.

      “How much longer?” I asked, twisting a piece of wreckage over and over in my hand.

      “Time is an earthly concept. Just be patient.” he encouraged, staring ahead at the loch.

      “I don’t think I can make it down the hill after dark.” I prompted.

      “You don’t have to. You’re safe here.” he replied with a smile.

      “Was I really here when all this happened?” I asked curiously.

      “Here and there. Don’t worry. We’ll help you recall.” he insisted. “There’s something else really important I want you to remember when this is all over with, Mark.”

      “What’s that?”

      “People need to know about all the sacrifices made out of love of country for them, not just this one. They need to know that a sacrifice made out of love of country is a sacred gift. They should cherish their freedom more instead of taking it for granted. Thousands have given their lives for it. They should appreciate it more.” he insisted.

      “Yes sir. I understand.”

      “You also must share your love of flying with your family more. They need to know that airplanes are safe in spite of what happened here. You need to encourage your family not to be afraid.” he continued.

      “Okay, I will, Jack.”

      “Can you do something else for me, something really special?” he then asked.

      “Just name it, Jack.”

      “Could you tell Bobbe for me that whenever she’s outside working in her garden and feels what she thinks is a spider web against her face, and there’s no spider web there, it’s my way of saying ‘hello’. Tell her I’m around her all the time and I’ll always love her.” he said sadly.

      “Consider it done.” I replied, wiping a tear from my eye.

      September 30, 1989, Gairloch, Scotland

      It was well after midnight when I awakened at the loch to the sound of my name being called. The voice was familiar and I knew right away who it was. “Mark … Mark, it’s time.” Buster implored, as I looked around and suddenly saw the same faces that had greeted me that night in the rain at the Bradley International Airport. There they were again, watching me intently.

      “Huh? …What is it?” I stammered, rubbing my eyes, not sure if I was dreaming or not.

      “We’re ready to show you the way.” Buster said softly. “Stand up and I’ll introduce you.”

      Rising in response, I reached my feet and gazed intently at the figures in front of me. All of them appeared exactly the same way they had in my great-grandmother’s photo from so long ago.

      “Jesus!” I exclaimed, staring in wide-eyed amazement.

      “Just take it easy. I want to introduce you to my СКАЧАТЬ