I asked him why he had been so rash and he answered, "When you hear my story, you will understand my purpose.
"By the way, my superior in the air corps also has the idea I am insane. He believes we cracked up somewhere and that I in some manner was saved, and so reported it to the War Department, who officially notified families of my crew members of their death."
His intelligent conversation and calm demeanor convinced me of his sanity. He was obviously anxious to explain and justify his actions to me. As a writer I was naturally interested. I encouraged him to tell his strange story which follows.
"Before entering the army I had just graduated from a well-known eastern college, with a degree in journalism. I became very adept in taking down notes and lectures in shorthand. This was to be a great help to me afterward.
"I am a Lieutenant in the air force, and was the pilot of one of our latest and largest B-29 bombers—never mind its number. The government might not want me to tell my story but my conscience is clear. I feel free to tell you what happened to me, as there are no military secrets involved. You say you are an author. I am sure you will be very much interested and perhaps you will write and publish my story."
Taking from his brief case a bulky typewritten diary he gave it to me to read. That evening I settled into a comfortable chair with no inkling of what this diary would mean to me. This is what I read:
On a day known to only a few, I was ordered to prepare my ship for flight early the following morning. Ten educated boys of excellent background had been chosen for my crew. Each was able to speak another language beside English. Their families had come from various European countries. I, with my crew, was to take this ship, fly it over the Pacific, deliver it to the command on one of our airfields in Japan and wait there for further instructions. I was given a supply of silver dollars and five dollar gold pieces to use, if by accident we should land in Asia among the Asiatic tribes.
Early on the appointed day, fully equipped with oxygen tanks, breathing pressure suits and ammunition, with our guns ready for action and our instruments, including the secret mechanism in our radio transmitter in good order, we took off. We flew fast, upward to the highest possible altitude of the stratosphere, to make a speedy passage across.
After flying rapidly and smoothly for some time, when we were at about the middle of the Pacific, we suddenly felt our ship was being pulled higher and higher from the earth into and above the atmosphere. Our altimeter without reason was fast rising. We could not understand why such a phenomenon.
Looking up, we perceived an immensely large plane of a very strange design, nearly twenty times larger than our own. Hovering in the distance right over us, it covered us like a large, dark cloud.