We should never have trusted the aliens


“World War II, the atomic bomb, the Cold War, made it

hard for Americans to continue their optimism.”

Stephen Ambrose

Date:                           Wednesday, February 22, 2017

In-flight Time:           3 hours and 10 minutes into a journey of 9 hours and 55 minutes.

 Location:                    In-flight Sydney Australia to Honolulu USA

‘Did anybody ever break their oath?’ asked Julius. ‘Before now I mean.’

‘There’ve been a few incidents over the years that’ve made me wonder,’ said Evan.          ‘Owens apparently leaked a couple of things, but without physical evidence and someone to back it up . . . well, whatever he leaked, it never found credibility. Sometime during the 1950s, Owens went through a prolonged and expensive divorce. He may have been tempted to try and cash in on what he knew.’

‘Where were the other possible leaks?’

‘I’ve occasionally thought that one or more of the cleanup crew still might have souvenired some of the crash debris,’ said Evan. ‘There was talk from the 1960s onwards of crash debris from Roswell being in the hands of the military who then passed it on to the private sector as part of some deal . . . an exchange or something.’

‘I’m well aware of those rumors Evan,’ said Julius. ‘Evidence of that nature would be impossible to keep under wraps though if it were true I’d imagine.’

‘Exactly,’ said Evan. ‘The crash debris collected by the cleanup crew wasn’t the sort of material to reveal insights into new technologies. The debris from the first crash site was made up of the skin of the spacecraft and probably frame or reinforcing material. Nothing else. No wiring. No electronics. No technology of any sort other than what might be concealed within the composition and design of the materials. The wreckage was incredibly light. As light and as thin as a modern aluminum can, but considerably stronger.

‘Con Sanchos confirmed that at the time of discovering the original crash site, he searched through the wreckage quite thoroughly. All he ever found was the outside shiny shell, which occasionally had some thicker frame type material attached. He actually thought that the frame might be silver painted balsawood.

‘Claims that reverse engineering such debris led to inventing transistors, the laser, the integrated circuit and more seem far-fetched. There’s also claims that the spacecraft was made using, or including, biological materials. I read somewhere that a blue fluid oozed from the wreckage.’


‘I can’t see how it could be true,’ said Evan. ‘No such thing ever materialized in all my time of being in contact with the alien or the wreckage. No blue fluids. No laser beams. No whiz bang communication devices. It was a very basic spacecraft Julius. They used only telepathic communication as far as I could tell, no electronic communication seemed evident for the crew. Given how light everything was, and that most of the spacecraft seemed to be dedicated to propulsion, I believe there wasn’t excessive technology onboard. The crashed spaceship was designed to get in and out quickly with a crew of three, that’s all. If something was found other than the skin or frame of the ship, it’s something none of us ever saw.’

‘What about the alien bodies that were supposedly discovered?’ asked Julius. ‘There’s been so much evidence of the military having “something” in their possession.’

Evan couldn’t contain himself, he laughed out loud. ‘That, my friend, is a very, very funny story. You’re absolutely right. They had “something” in their possession alright.’

‘I’m not going anywhere,’ said Julius. ‘You have a captive audience.’

The flight attendant saw Evan motion for two more scotches. Just as Julius was about to protest, Evan said . . . ‘They’re both for me.’

Once the drinks had arrived, Evan began.

‘A couple of days after the encounter, Major Baker came sneaking into my barracks. He was nervous, constantly looking around as if there might be someone following him. He wanted an urgent meeting. He was in big trouble apparently, everything was about to be uncovered and he needed our help.’

There were eight witnesses to the encounter at Roswell

 Date:               Wednesday, July 9, 1947

Time:              1840 hours

 Location:        Sanchos Ranch

                        Grain Storage and Horse Stable Shed

                        Northwest of Roswell, NM, USA

Con Sanchos pulled up with Terry at the old timber and tin roof, horse and grain shed situated about 200 yards south of the homestead on the road heading towards Roswell. They got out of the old Austin truck and began to prepare for their visitors due to arrive within the next 20 minutes.

Terry had some yellow paint and used it to paint a cross on the road to mark the entrance gate to the property. You couldn’t afford to stray off course when passing through the narrow gate as there were irrigation ditches on either side.

Con unloaded some old but very comfortable lounge chairs and a huge old rug from the back of the truck. They’d been damaged in the storm; Con’s wife relishing the opportunity to redecorate the entire house and throw out the old furnishings. The floor of the shed was dirt, and the whole shed was in a very rundown state. Con had decided that if these meeting were to be regular, they might as well make themselves comfortable. It was a good excuse to fix up the old shed a bit anyway as he often spent time out here. It was home to the bulk of his quite substantial bootleg whisky operation.

Inside the shed, Con had previously set up some kerosene lamps, a large barrel of water, an old table with seven chairs, and a cast iron wood burning stove next to the entrance. Con lit a fire in the stove and started to prepare coffee for his guests. If anything, he was a considerate host.

Terry moved the old Austin truck to a discreet position behind the shed in order that their presence not be detected by passing vehicles. He then waited by the roadside in case the others missed the markings. Several minutes later, he could hear Evan’s V8 roaring towards him at a speed many might consider as being less than safe. Maximum revs were reached in each gear followed by a quick gear change and full throttle applied straight away; 85 horse power of high speed adrenalin.

Struggling to keep up, Colonel Curtis cursed the near out-of-sight driver he was doing his utmost to keep up with. The World War II surplus jeep couldn’t hope to maintain that pace. The three officers onboard were very exposed to the elements with the sides completely open and the headlights attracting every damned bug that the “composite entity that had survived the previous universe” (God) had thought to put on this Earth. Colonel Rafter was sitting next to the angry Colonel Curtis and laughed inwardly. He imagined Cadet Armstrong being assigned some rather unpleasant duties in the not too distant future.

Terry waved the noisy V8 with Evan and Fells through the gate, then patiently waited for the jeep. Once the officers were inside the property, Terry closed the gate and directed the vehicles to the seclusion offered behind the shed.

‘Fresh coffee, corn bread and cake if you’d like to help yourselves,’ announced Con as the others entered the shed. Everybody, even Terry, was highly impressed with the improvised meeting place. Con had put a lot of thought and effort into their needs and comfort for these meetings. It was perfect for their clandestine purpose in every way. ‘Or something a little stronger perhaps?’

Major Baker wasted no time. He looked about the shed to make sure he had everyone’s attention.

‘Thank you to everyone for coming at my request at such short notice. Colonel Rafter, I thank you in particular, it’s quite a journey from California to Roswell.’

Colonel Rafter nodded his appreciation.

‘I wanted to speak to you about what happened yesterday with my superiors in Air Force Intelligence and give you the heads up of what you might soon be facing.’

Colonel Rafter was clearly anxious to speak. Seeing him stand up the Major gave up the floor.

‘If you hadn’t called this meeting Major, I certainly would have. I’ve already been grilled over the phone by Intel, and I expect them to turn up at Muroc at any time.’

‘I got the same call Colonel,’ interrupted Colonel Curtis. ‘We need to get our stories straight!’

‘Exactly!’ said Major Baker. ‘I’m all in a twist. They know I’m lying. I don’t like deceiving my superiors . . . I’m just not a good liar.’

‘Fells, Armstrong, have you been approached yet?’ asked Colonel Rafter.

They hadn’t.

‘Con? Terry?’ asked Colonel Rafter.

‘About an hour ago I got a call from some fellow. He said he was with Military Intelligence or something like that,’ said Con. ‘He wanted to bring some of “his people” out to look over the crash site. He asked if I’d be able to take them to the actual sight. I told him it’d be okay if they could wait until after lunch tomorrow. I have an auction to attend in town in the morning.’

‘My superiors consider the Air Force Intelligence office at Roswell to have been “compromised” for the time being,’ confessed Major Baker reluctantly. ‘We’ve been stood down in all matters relating to the crash site. I can tell you Con that you’ll be dealing with some tough personnel that will be flown in from Washington, and they’re the top of their profession. Don’t underestimate them.’

‘Okay, we have tonight to get our stories straight,’ said Colonel Rafter. ‘Were you able to dispose of the wreckage okay Con?’

‘Buried discretely on a distant abandoned property more than 20 miles from here,’ said Con. ‘It’ll never be found, I guarantee it.’

‘Excellent Con, well done!’ said Colonel Rafter. ‘Major, you called this meeting. I suggest you run it.’

‘Thank you, Colonel,’ said Major Baker standing up again to address the group. ‘Yesterday’s newspaper gentlemen.’

The Major was holding up a copy of the previous day’s edition of the local Roswell newspaper. It read “RAAF Captures Flying Saucer on Ranch in Roswell Region”.

‘Just so you know,’ said the Major referring to the front-page article.

Con took the paper from the Major and passed it around.

‘Can I start by asking you about the nature of your conversation with Intel Colonel Rafter?’

‘Yes of course,’ said Colonel Rafter. ‘Just this morning I submitted a work-in-progress report on the bogey that entered the Nevada no-fly zone. Basically, I said that in my opinion it wasn’t a manned aircraft, but some sort of long range unmanned surveillance craft possibly sent by the Russians to spy on the Nevada testing. I said it went wildly off course and most likely crashed somewhere near the Grand Canyon. I pointed out that I still had several interviews to conduct before I’d be able to submit my final report with conclusions.

‘Intel rang me shortly after I submitted the report and asked me if I still stood by those assumptions given the radar contact made by White Sands and also that a B-29 Superfortress made contact over the Cibola National Park. I told them “yes, but as I am still making investigations and conducting interviews for my final report, my position might change”. Then they asked if they could come and see me sometime next week, to which I agreed, but I suggested that they wait for my final report to Commanding General Roger Ramey was completed and approved to be forwarded on to the Pentagon.’

‘Colonel Rafter and I have spoken at length on this subject already,’ interrupted Colonel Curtis again. ‘We thought it’d be beneficial to separate the sightings and discredit any notion of an alien spacecraft. My summary report supported the observation of the Commanding Officer aboard the Superfortress that engaged the “alleged” bogey in the storm. He said that he believed there was in fact no bogey, and that what they saw was merely lightning being reflected by ice particles at the leading edge of the storm.

‘I pointed out that the velocity and altitude of our bogey was completely different to that of the bogey reported over Nevada. I also noted that the bogey contact made by White Sands was entirely consistent with other multiple contacts made over the previous weeks. Whatever it was that they detected in those multiple contacts, it was the same as they detected last Thursday. Those sightings could not have had anything to do with the Nevada sighting as they happened consistently, and over many days.’

‘Did they question you about what you witnessed at the crash site?’ asked Major Baker.

‘Yes,’ said Colonel Curtis. ‘But only briefly. I told them that I didn’t go to the actual crash site, but instead went to check up on Cadet Armstrong when I got caught in an unexpected storm.’

‘I haven’t been questioned on my time here at the ranch,’ said Colonel Rafter. ‘But they know that I was here, and also that I returned here today, so it’s only a matter of time.’

‘Excellent work gentlemen,’ said Major Baker. ‘I was questioned at great length by my superiors who flew in from Washington yesterday afternoon. They grilled me until late in the evening and unfortunately, I was forced to improvise some of my answers. It’s important that you each know what I said so that you support the testimony I have given as best as possible.’

There was general agreement and understanding from the group. Major Baker continued.

‘Arriving at the Sanchos Ranch, I took a quick look at the crash debris with Con and immediately recognized it as a balloon from a top secret military project that I can’t divulge to civilians or lower ranks, sorry gentlemen. I then went back to the Sanchos homestead to await a cleanup crew and some assistance in guarding the crash site.’

‘I think it’s a good idea to stick as close to the truth as possible,’ said Con.

The Major was grateful for Con’s comment, even if it was a little obvious.

‘Armstrong arrives, I send him to his post to the north,’ continued the Major. Evan was about to speak but the Major stared him down. It could wait.

‘Early the next morning, very early, Colonel Curtis arrives at the Sanchos home. Upon learning that the crash debris is merely an experimental balloon, and that the collection of the debris is already underway, he decides to inform Armstrong that he should go home. Con and Terry offer to drive the Colonel to Armstrong’s location. When they catch up to Armstrong, he’s fallen asleep with his headlights on. You all stay to help him start his car, which turns out to be more difficult than expected.

‘Colonel Rafter, Owens and Fells turn up a little later at the homestead. Concerned that Colonel Curtis and the others haven’t turned up, we go to investigate. I send Owens home at this point as he is not feeling well.

‘When we arrive at the location where Armstrong’s car has broken down, myself, Colonel Rafter and Colonel Curtis take the opportunity to discuss events of the past couple of days. We lose track of time when the storm hits unexpectedly. Are we all on board so far?’

There is a general murmur of agreement from the group. The Major pauses so that anyone can add something if they feel the need. As nobody speaks, he decides to continue.

‘We eventually get back to the Sanchos home once the storm eases somewhat, dismiss the cleanup crew, and decide that for security reasons, it’s best to take back the crash debris in the truck ourselves.

‘As we’re about to leave, the truck gets bogged. We unload the truck in order to free it from the bog. I decide that it’s best to burn the experimental balloon wreckage rather than leave it lying around. That way we’re not in a position of having to produce the debris. Everybody still on board?’

As nobody still spoke, the Major continued.

‘Rather than head home, Armstrong decides to stay with the officers overnight at the Sanchos homestead to assist with the truck in the morning. We get the truck moving in the morning and all leave, grateful to our generous host. That’s about it.’

‘Sounds like a simple and manageable story to me,’ said Colonel Rafter.

There was general agreement again.

‘Now I have some far more difficult problems for us to consider,’ said Major Baker. ‘Intel are about to launch a thorough investigation.’

‘Why? asked Evan.

‘They don’t believe a blasted word of it!’ said Major Baker. ‘So be on your toes, and stick to the story like glue. Let me go over it one more time . . . ‘

Newspaper coverage of the Roswell alien UFO crash

‘The biggest headache you can help me with is the media,’ said Major Baker. ‘We need to quieten them down. They’re stirring up a hornet’s nest back at the Pentagon.’

‘I can confirm that,’ said Colonel Rafter. ‘Interest in my pending report is extremely high. I’m under enormous pressure to deliver the report with conclusions in as short a time as possible. The Pentagon aren’t sure how to respond to the incursion and are pressing hard for the facts. The President himself has asked for regular updates.’

‘How did the media even find out about this sir?’ asked Fells.

Major Baker was about to speak when Con interrupted.

‘My fault! At least I think I might have been the cause,’ confessed Con. ‘I’d been listening to the radio about all these flying discs being spotted around the area over the past few weeks. When I spotted the crash debris, I immediately assumed it to be one of the discs they were talking about. Even before calling the Sheriff, I told a lot of people, and to be entirely truthful, I may have embellished the story just a little.’

‘Me too,’ added Terry rather meekly.

‘It can’t be a coincidence, can it?’ asked Colonel Rafter. ‘The aliens must have been sending out other spacecraft, which means that the story the alien gave us about not being prepared for our technology was false.’

‘The alien wasn’t lying . . . or at least I don’t think it was lying,’ said Major Baker. ‘The Eighth Air Force have been experimenting with materials and designs that offer minimal radar profile as well as electronic radar jamming technology. The sightings at White Sands generally correlate with confirmed testing in their area by the Eighth. The problem is, nobody at White Sands has sufficient clearance to be told what the Eighth have been up to. Hence the confusion. That’s the military for you.’

There was general amusement at the comment.

‘But very beneficial for our cause of deception,’ added Con.

‘The local radio station aired the story Saturday afternoon,’ said Major Baker. ‘Then, to make things worse, a further press release was issued Monday morning from the public information office without my knowledge. Whoever released it, well, they aren’t owning up to it so far. It doesn’t matter now anyway. It’s out there and it is a huge embarrassment to my office that should’ve scrutinized the press release before it was released. Despite my assurances to the local Roswell newspaper editor that there were no UFOs, they took up the story yesterday. Front page!’

‘What can we do?’ asked Colonel Curtis.

‘The most important thing we can do is discredit the reports in the media and attempt to contain the damage,’ said Major Baker. ‘We must not allow the media to link the events over Nevada, with the contacts in New Mexico, and then also link those events with the debris found here. I’m reasonably confident, that if we stick to our stories, the media and the military won’t pursue the links.’

‘I’m sorry Major, but I have to disagree completely,’ said Colonel Rafter. ‘The officers in charge of all three events are clearly placed together here at Roswell for an extended period of time. We might be able to keep this from the media, but the military will be scrutinizing this much more thoroughly I imagine.’

‘I agree,’ offered Colonel Curtis thoughtfully. ‘I think we need to come up with something more.’

‘I’ve an idea,’ said Con sounding pleased with himself. ‘When Intel come here tomorrow, I’ll tell them that I actually first noticed the debris several days earlier. It wasn’t until much later that I had sufficient time to investigate properly. It was only at that time I called the Sheriff.’

‘What about the explosion you reported hearing? How will you explain that away?’ asked Major Baker.

‘I’ll say that Terry was playing around with some fireworks getting ready for the fourth of July celebrations,’ offered Con.

‘Brilliant! That means the wreckage found by you and Terry cannot possibly be from the bogey sighted in Nevada,’ said Major Baker sounding relieved. ‘I’ll include that prominently into my up-dated report which is due tomorrow.’

‘I have another idea,’ said Con now feeling rather clever. ‘The local radio station is keen to get me in for an interview. I’ll be in town tomorrow morning, so I can do the interview then. I can take some pieces of weather balloon with me and say that this is the strange material I found on site.’

‘Of course,’ said Major Baker. ‘I must say Con . . . well done! When you hand them pieces of a weather balloon, they won’t want you showing anyone else. It’s a definite kill joy.’

‘Thank you Major, is there anything else I can help the military with?’ asked Con in jest.

The Major considered Con’s offer for a moment before replying.

‘Actually Con . . . there is.’

The Roswell cover-up of alien evidence

Date:                                       Wednesday, February 22, 2017

In-flight Time:                       3 hours and 48 minutes into a journey of 9 hours and 55 minutes.

Location:                                In-flight Sydney Australia to Honolulu USA

‘When Major Baker ordered Owens to go to Roswell to collect resources in case of a biohazard, he also sent him to the local funeral parlor to get three small coffins, preferably ones that could be completely sealed. They didn’t have any, but they said that they could have them delivered on Monday afternoon. Well, Owens took the initiative, and he ordered the coffins . . . in Major Baker’s name, to be delivered to Major Baker “personally”.

‘The Major had no idea at all that the coffins had actually been ordered . . .  Owens completely forgot to mention it before he left us that day. Right on time on Monday afternoon, the coffins arrived at the base in the Major’s absence, and caused quite a stir as you can imagine.’

‘I remember reading about those coffins,’ said Julius. ‘I never imagined they really existed.’

‘They certainly did exist,’ insisted Evan. ‘The biggest headache of all for the Major was those three child size coffins. They’d been specifically ordered, in his name, specified to be “air tight” and “delivered urgently”, leaving Major Baker fumbling for acceptable answers.

‘After initially denying all knowledge of the coffins, the Major was forced to alter his story by saying that he recalled that there’d been three dead cows badly deteriorated near the crash site, and that he may have instructed “someone” to remove the carcasses out of the debris area for later examination. Perhaps that person showed initiative and ordered the coffins when they returned to Roswell?

‘None of the cleanup crew supported his story. It was the beginning of the end for Major Baker. They knew without doubt that he was deceiving them about something. That was the catalyst that brought the C.I.A. into play.’

‘Is that how the rumors started about the three dead aliens?’ asked Julius.

‘There’s more to it, stop jumping ahead,’ said Evan in a mock dressing down. ‘The storm had caused considerable damage. More than 40 head of cattle had died. The very young calves were the most vulnerable. Con came up with the idea to put three of the dead calves to the side of the crash site area.

‘The next afternoon, when he took the men from Intel to the crash site, he made sure that the badly decomposed corpses were spotted. They’d been ravaged by birds and animals, and also by the storm’s ferocity. A huge colony of ants was systematically dismantling the remains that were left. The corpses weren’t readily recognizable as calves.

‘Con told the Intel men that he had originally found the corpses amongst the crash debris, but someone, or something, had obviously moved them aside. The coffins were eventually used after all when the Intel officers decided to take the corpses for later examination, so Major Baker’s credibility was at least partially redeemed.

‘Over the next few days, those coffins were apparently shipped halfway across the country, eventually arriving in Washington for post-mortem examination. There had been many involved in the transportation who actually believed them to contain aliens. Military Intelligence involvement only served to feed the rumors.’

‘Oh, my God that’s hilarious,’ said Julius. ‘How did the interviews go at the radio station?’

‘Con was a bit of a ham actor we soon learned,’ said Evan thinking back. ‘Back at the base the following morning, I sat in my car with Fells, and we listened to the radio. They were spruiking the interview with Con, and advising the audience that they’d soon have “actual alien spaceship wreckage” in the studio. The “cloak of military cover-up” would be lifted. Honestly, the whole town was talking about it.

‘Earlier that morning I’d met discreetly with Major Baker. He gave me pieces of a high-tech weather balloon to pass onto Con. Con came well prepared; he wrapped the pieces reverently in an old blanket he’d brought with him. Then, before he walked into the radio station, he put on a huge pair of gumboots, an over-sized yellow raincoat and hat, and an old pair of gardening gloves. “Stand back” he yelled, “stand back”, as he entered the station holding the blanket cautiously well out in front of him. Everyone stood well back, fearful of the contents.

‘Con refused to unwrap the blanket until they were “live on air”. It was “too dangerous to be exposed to the contents for prolonged periods” he claimed. Before the final unwrapping, Con removed a pair of safety goggles from the pocket of his raincoat and carefully put them on making sure their fit was perfect. The radio announcer was very nervous. He moved as far away as possible and towards the exit. The anticipation, the buildup, the . . . absolute silence as the radio interviewer realized what he was looking at. Ha, ha. Rubber and balsa wood. Plain old rubber and balsa wood.

‘Admittedly, the balsa wood did carry some rather odd markings. We never did figure out what they were. But that was the death of the hype in the media. It was a sudden, and for the radio station, very painful death.

‘Con kept those same pieces of weather balloon for years. Anytime some curious UFO researcher came knocking at his door, Con would quickly dress up in his improvised biohazard outfit and excitedly go get his trophies to show off. There were many hundreds of disappointed and disillusioned visitors to the Sanchos Ranch. It wasn’t long before their numbers dwindled.’

‘So, thanks to Con, you were off the hook with media and the military?’ asked Julius.

‘Pretty much. Except that Major Baker had been branded a liar earlier on. It stained his record. It was something that his career would sadly never recover from. The military considered him as being possibly “compromised”.’

‘Were there other meetings of the group?’ asked Julius.

‘Yes, five in total. Several months later, Colonel Rafter asked for the group to meet for the second time,’ said Evan. ‘He was certain that we were fueling a future war with Russia.

‘The incursion into U.S. airspace that was detected by the 637th Aircraft Control and Warning Squadron was proof of technology well advanced of anything the United States could effectively respond to. Colonel Rafter’s final report confirmed that. The Pentagon used the incident to canvas government for greater funding. No other singular event had greater influence on military expenditure at that time according to Colonel Rafter.

‘In August of 1947, Colonel Rafter, and the Airforce Flight Test Centre that he commanded, were substantially relocated to Home Base in Nevada. That’s the infamous location known as Area 51 today,’ said Evan. ‘He was still headquartered in California, but he now commanded a significant presence at the new facility.

‘I’m aware of that,’ said Julius. ‘I’m also aware of the huge amount of weapons technology research funding that was applied to Area 51. History tends to condemn our actions through this time, and particularly our expenditure on research into weapons technology.’

‘The infrastructure at Home Base was minimal in those early years. It was operating as a division of the Edwards base in California. Colonel Rafter chose to base himself in California for operational efficiency, but operate all “Black Ops” testing of aircraft and weaponry strictly from the Groom Lake airstrip, as inadequate as it was.

‘Well, Colonel Rafter personally witnessed the unintended consequences of our deception better than anyone. He was under enormous pressure to reach certain milestones; milestones measured against the intruder’s performance that day into American airspace. Breaking the sound barrier and new altitude records were not met with celebration, so much as relief.

‘The Pentagon was convinced that our military capabilities were considerably at a disadvantage when compared with those of Russia. As each new weapon became operational, Colonel Rafter couldn’t help but wonder if so much emphasis would’ve been placed on military expenditure but for our deception.’

The Roswell witness strategy

Date:               Thursday, October 16, 1947

Time:              2338 hours

Location:        Sanchos Ranch

                        Grain Storage and Horse Stable Shed

                        Northwest of Roswell, NM, USA


Colonel Rafter was angry, very angry. He’d come to Roswell expecting full support for his cause. He paced the rug on the floor of the old wooden shed trying, but failing, to regain his composure.

‘I respectfully remind you Colonel, that you swore an oath. We all swore an oath,’ said Major Baker also getting a little bit hot under the collar. ‘There are no superior ranks here Colonel. If you remember, it was you who insisted that we be considered as equals. If you do as you say, you’re placing yourself above all of us. I’m confident that was never your intention, but it will be the case if you act against the wishes of the majority.’

The meeting had been running for hours without resolution. The others felt that Colonel Rafter was using his position of authority to push the agenda, and the outcome, in his favor. They were entirely correct.

The Major’s words served only to fuel the Colonel’s anger. He was not used to being addressed in such a way by a lower rank. He was struggling to accept the “equal” status of them all.

‘Major, with all due respect to all of you, you don’t seem to understand where this is leading,’ said Colonel Rafter. ‘There is a fever, a sickness, growing within the psychology of the military. It’s infected the Pentagon, and it’s spreading through our Federal Government. Truman’s “Doctrine of Containment” is like an incubator for this sickness.

‘They’re calling for war; war while we have the nuclear advantage. They’re calling for war before it is too late. A nuclear war that they believe we can’t lose. They truly believe that Russia has a huge technological edge. Those fools, they’re scared of their own shadows.

‘Evidence of Russian military technological superiority is non-existent except for one single incursion . . . the alien incursion. Nothing the Russians have is currently beyond our own capacity to combat immediately or in the very near future. They don’t have the technological edge that Washington fears.

‘The private sector feeds these fears. I’m forced to work with the bastards. They’re nothing but greedy, evil war mongers. As the sickness grows, so too do their profits. They won’t stop until they destroy the whole God damned planet.’

‘Maybe this is the Armageddon the alien told us of?’ offered Con.

The Colonel was approaching exhaustion. He couldn’t maintain his rage.

‘Con, this doesn’t need to be the end of the world! This is preventable. We, you, me, us. We can stop this. Forget secret alien remedies, all we need to do is reveal the truth about what really happened back then . . . before it’s too late. I’m not saying we tell the whole damned world, but, a few words spoken quietly and confidentially in the right ears could put the brakes on this right now.’

Nobody spoke. The others felt that such a revelation could never be contained.

Colonel Rafter was now too exhausted to continue. He sat down without further fanfare. It was a huge decision; he’d give them time to consider. It was a strong argument. They’d come around. They must come around.

‘I brought bedding and blankets in the event that this ran late,’ said Con. ‘I’m going to break them out in case anyone really needs to rest.’

While Con, Terry and Evan busied themselves attending to everyone’s comforts, Colonel Curtis discreetly pulled Colonel Rafter aside.

‘I hear congratulations are in order Raffy. Mach 1? That’s incredible! Well done my friend.’

‘Yes, thank you Sam. We’ll be smashing Mach 2 within a year I predict. Hopefully it’ll take a bit of the pressure off me for a while. The demands from the Pentagon have been relentless. By the way, the news is very top secret in case they didn’t inform you.’

‘Poor Chuck, his deed might never make it into the history books,’ said Colonel Curtis. (The Colonel was referring to the breaking of the sound barrier for the first time in level flight by Chuck Yeager on October 14, 1947.)

‘Don’t misunderstand my intentions here Raffy, I fully appreciate what you’re saying and I see your point. However, reaching such a substantial milestone, Mach 1. Does that give us some breathing space? Will that make the powers that be in Washington a little less afraid of their shadows?’

Colonel Rafter didn’t reply.

‘Let’s sleep on it. In the morning, if you still believe that we must act urgently, I’ll back you all the way. However, if we have a little time to maneuver, maybe we can find a more palatable solution that still protects the oath we took, yet pulls the world back from the brink.’

There was wisdom in the words of Colonel Sam Curtis, Rafter could see that. Without discussing it further, he made an immediate decision and addressed the group.

‘Gentlemen, I’ve made you all aware of the problem as I see it. Colonel Curtis has just reminded me of something that potentially removes the need for imperative action. I suggest we get a good night’s sleep, and in the morning, we discuss what positive action we can take whilst still maintaining our sworn oaths.

‘If and when things deteriorate, and I promise you I will keep my finger on that pulse, I will call another meeting, at which point we decide what action to take. I will not proceed without the support of you all. That is a promise. We will always remain equal participants in our mission.’

It was a positive note to close the evening on.

Positive action revealing the alien conspiracy

Date:                           Wednesday, February 22, 2017

In-flight Time:           4 hours and 7 minutes into a journey of 9 hours and 55 minutes.

 Location:                    In-flight Sydney Australia to Honolulu USA

‘Do you personally believe that the alien incursion influenced the Government, and the Pentagon, to that extent?’ asked Julius.

Evan didn’t answer immediately. He carefully considered his response before replying. He chose his words very carefully now.

‘I believe that the witnessing of that advanced technology, with tangible proof of technology well beyond that of anything in our own armory, was the single greatest catalyst for rapid escalation of the arms race of that time. It gave the military rationale to secure exorbitant defense expenditure.’

‘Wow!’ exclaimed Julius. ‘Talk about unintended consequences.’

‘I joined the air force to become a pilot. The alien encounter turned out to be very beneficial for my ambitions,’ said Evan. ‘Colonel Curtis pulled me into flight training almost immediately after the event. He personally intervened into my career path and opened doors that wouldn’t normally be open to me. At the earliest possible opportunity, he got me into the testing program over at Edwards. Seriously, my feet hadn’t hit the tarmac before I was transferred to Home Base, which of course, was the branch of Edwards directly under the command of Colonel Rafter. I have no doubt that my rapid escalation to fighter pilot, then test pilot, was in large part due to the personal friendship I developed with both officers.

‘I landed at Home Base in November of 1949. The psychology evident at the base was like nothing I could’ve imagined. We were perceived to be in a desperate race; a race for survival. To lose this race meant death to us, our democratic beliefs and our nation. More than once I heard discussions refer to “the July 3rd ‘47 Russian incursion”. That was more than two years after it happened and they still talked about it as if we should be living in bomb shelters. I can only imagine the fear it must have generated back in 1947.

‘At the time of the meeting called by Colonel Rafter, I was inclined to believe that the he was over reacting. By the time I fully appreciated the consequences our group of seven was fully disbanded. I’ve never discussed this subject with anyone before, but I am certain that Baker, Rafter and Curtis were all fully aware of the consequences of our actions.’

‘But things worked out in the end. We won the Cold War,’ said Julius.

‘Did we? I disagree completely,’ said Evan. ‘That nobody really wins a war is a lesson I’ve learned over a lifetime. You just lose less. What would the world look like if we hadn’t wasted the resources we did on the Cold War? I started to have doubts about our oath when I moved to Home Base. That, and two wars, changed my views considerably.’

‘What happened in the end with Colonel Rafter? Did he eventually have that quiet word in the right ears?’

‘We originally thought that the military believing the bogey to be Russian was a real bonus. The military and the government became very secretive about the circumstances surrounding the incursion. They became our allies in deception and secrecy in effect. We were very wrong.

‘In the end, it was decided that there was nothing we could do about the situation. To reveal the truth wouldn’t end the Cold War, nor would it have any effect on the escalating Korean war. Our final meeting in October of 1950 ended on a very sour note . . . we were committed now, and for all time, to a deception that threatened world peace and security. We would never meet as a group again.’

‘What happened to everyone?’

‘Major Baker was pressured into leaving the military in 1951. He became very bitter about how things played out. Whilst he kept his resolve to remain faithful to the oath we’d all taken, we never heard from him again after that. He died in an automobile accident in 1952 I discovered several years later. The circumstances of the crash were considered suspicious. It occurred to me that it may have been suicide.’

‘Colonel Curtis served in the Korean war and was sadly killed in action on a bombing mission in 1952. Why he was onboard for that mission nobody knew. An officer of such high rank and experience wouldn’t normally fly such a mission.

‘Colonel Rafter continued to command at Home Base until 1961. He was then reassigned Duty at Edwards Air Force Base. Several times after ‘61 I tried to talk to Colonel Rafter, but the opportunity never fell into place. He retired from the military in 1962, moving into the private sector with McDonnell Douglas.’

‘Did any possibly alien inspired design innovations ever find their way into the McDonnell Douglas aircraft through Colonel Rafter’s involvement?’

‘No, I don’t think so,’ said Evan in reflection. ‘Anyway, moving on, Fells married late in 1947. I was his best man. He became a highly-decorated Vietnam war vet but unfortunately, he died of cancer in 1971. The cancer was almost certainly a legacy of his service in Vietnam. I last briefly spoke to Fells in 1970. He wouldn’t talk about the events of 1947 over the phone. He seemed extremely paranoid. After Vietnam, he seemed disillusioned with his government and the military.

‘Terry stayed on at the ranch until he volunteered for service in Korea in January of 1951. He died within a week of arriving. They described Terry’s actions as an incredible act of bravery. Apparently, Terry went to the aid of his wounded platoon leader, successfully dragging him to safety in the middle of a fierce battle. He was shot several times while doing so. He died on the field. I attended the funeral and couldn’t help but feel Con’s pain. He felt responsible, and in some small way, so did I.

‘Con Sanchos died of a heart attack in April of 1951, not too long after Terry’s service. Con had always been deeply religious. At the mention of “Armageddon”, Con had initially believed the aliens to be part of “God’s plan”. Before he died, Con had lost his faith. I don’t fully understand the reasons why. Are you religious in any way Julius?’

‘Not in the slightest,’ Julius replied with absolute conviction.

‘I used to be, but the way things turned out, I also lost my faith a long time ago. Anyway,’ confessed Evan. ‘I digress.’

‘After Terry’s death, a great sadness descended over Con. I visited Con’s family several times after Terry’s funeral. More than just losing his faith, he’d lost all hope for mankind and the alien counter-intervention strategy. Although we never spoke directly on the subject alone together, I knew this to be the case. His health clearly suffered from his negative state of mind.

‘Julius, I haven’t truthfully spoken to another living sole about my experiences at Roswell since 1951 . . . more than 65 years ago. My last brief conversation was with Colonel Rafter just before I left to fight in the Korean War, a week before Christmas in 1951. I never expected to be left alone with the secret for so long. I tell you honestly, I’m so weary from the burden.’

Evan got up to use the lavatory leaving Julius alone with his thoughts. Julius sat and reflected on his encounter with Evan so far. Was it a coincidence? No. Did he believe him? . . . He wanted to. Was he telling him the whole truth . . . ?

Evan returned to his seat after several minutes. A smiling, smitten flight attendant followed close behind him with two fresh glasses of scotch on the rocks. Evan downed his entire glass of whisky in one go and then quite unexpectedly he says . . .

‘We made a huge mistake Julius . . . we should never have trusted the aliens!’