26. WARREN S.... - ON THE (UFO) ROAD AGAIN
It was decided that the day after Jorpah in 1985 we would leave. Tom Omann from Halfway, Oregon had attended Jorpah so he would ride along with us to Baker, Oregon where he would leave his car. Marlene Anderson from Everett, Washington rode along with Tom and Bonnie Mott, Dan and I were in the van.
The first day we drove from Seattle to Salt Lake City, Utah arriving approximately at 5:00 a.m. After sleeping for several hours we decided to go on a tour of the Mormon Temple Square. Mary St. Claire, Associate Director in our organization for the Salt Lake City area, and a young man by the name of Warren S... met us for breakfast and acted as a tour guide. We found it very interesting.
We had previously received correspondence from Warren concerning his abduction while on active duty at the Combat Center in 29 Palms, California. The following is Warren's story in his own words.
My encounter was years ago, and I've not had a similar event since then. (That I remember.)
I believe it was June of '79, I was in the United States Marines, stationed at the Combat Center in the small town of 29 Palms, California. This is where the Marines keep a large percentage of their artillery and tank units, because the large, desert spaces provide plenty of room to train with these weapons.
I was with "Golf" Battery, 3rd Battaliion, 12th Regiment. This is a small, 105 MM Cannon unit. Although I was a basic field artillery man, I learned quickly, and was soon given a 2 1/2 ton truck license. I was also re-trained in the area of explosives transport and delivery. In other words, I was a "suicide jockey," carrying live artillery shells and high explosives. I completed a special course for this, which gave me a wide knowledge of almost all types of artillery shells, grenades and explosives, and even nuclear artillery shells. I was, as part of my job, able to understand the basic construction of shells and fuses, identify by color the type and use of each round, plus I could rig a basic "self destruct" device of a live fuse and some powder, which, in time of war, I would theoretically use to destroy myself and cargo to avoid capture by the enemy.
The night my encounter happened, I was driving through the national monument park outside of 29 Palms, at about 1:00 a.m. I was alone on the long, desert stretch of road, and was driving about 75 miles per hour. I was heading back toward base. My car at the time, a "souped up" 1972 Buick Riviera, was dependable and not prone to sudden break-downs. As I sped along, still about 55 - 60 miles out of base, I looked at my fuel gauge, which read 1/4 tank full. Plenty, I thought, to make it to town. A couple of miles later, however, my engine gave a single gasp, and died. I coasted to the side of the road, wondering if my fuel gauge was not working right. I turned off the lights, and attempted to start the engine again. I tried several times. Although the lights, horn, and other things worked, when I tred to start the car. It gave every symptom of being "out of gas." I always carry a gas can for just such an emergency, so I wasn't worried.
However, instead of simply waiting in my car for a park ranger, I had the strongest urge to get out and walk. I removed the military style 5 gallon can from my trunk, and started off. For some unknown reason, I didn't stick to the road, but instead set out cross country, a big mistake in the desert, especially at night, when the predators and rattlers are out. I don't know why I did it. I even left the window down in my car. This was odd, because I was always in the habit of locking my car whenever I left it alone.
Wearing a pair of dress shoes, white levis, and bright red silk dress shirt, these were all I had to protect me from the night chill of the desert.
One item of clothing I wore was unique. On my belt, I wore a buckle that I had made in Oceanside, when I was down there one time. It was a stylized "S," shaped just like the one on Superman's chest, and made of polished silver.
I set out, keeping a steady pace, and using a far distant warning light that was on a radio tower some miles away. The night was cool, and the steady pace was easy enough, and I was in good shape. However, it wasn't long before I began to get confused. I seemed to have trouble keeping my bearings. I had trouble in locating the flashing red beaocn I had been using as my guide. I did notice a white light, some distance off, like a flash light or lantern. I assumed that my car had been found, and that the rangers were looking for me. Little did I know, that I had indeed been found, but not by whom I expected.
Next time I saw the light, I called out to it. It began to move toward me, just a white bright glow. All of a sudden. I became dizzy, and fell to the cool sand. Before I passed out I saw a row of blinking lights movng in my direction. My only thought was that it was the lights on top of a ranger cruiser. I blanked out.
When I opened my eyes, I thought it was morning, as the sky appeared to be daylight. I was propped against either a large rock or a bush, I'm not sure. Standing above me, was a figure that gave me quite a start. For, incredulously, it was what appeared to be a woman! But, her face! It was the face of an old girlfriend whom I had not seen in a year. The face was Gayleen H...'s, right down to every detail. Her long, blonde hair was parted in the middle, just as Gayleen wore hers. The eyes were bright blue, as I remembered them to be. The look on my face must have said it all, cause she tilted her head back and laughed at me. "You should see your face," she told me in Gayleen's soft voice.
However, I began to notice small differences. For instance, her complexion was clear as ivory, without the blemishes and pimples that every teenager has. Also, there were no lines of wear, or even "crow' feet" around the eyes. The body was just as unusual. While Gayleen had been a shapely girl, this body seemed to be almost perfect, as if Gayleen's body had been "remolded" to a more perfect figure. She seemed a deal taller than the Gayleen I remembered. She was dressed in a silver outfit, tight fitting, and drawn with an elastic band at the waist. Her boots were also made of the same "metal-flake" type of silver material. There was a high collar that went up to the chin, where a ring, I assumed a zipper, sat at the top. The "zipper" ran from chin to crotch. There was a decorative red trim or piping around certain parts of the uniform, and a large pocket was on each breast.
Perhaps my mind was being made to see a familiar face, to keep my fear at a low level. Her uniform sleeves were rolled up, in a comfortable fashion. She extended a hand and helped me up. Her skin was smooth, if slightly cool, to the touch.
That's when I noticed the craft behind her. It was, although I was finding it hard to believe, a "flying saucer." It was about 50 feet or so in diameter. A ramp was leading from the ground up to the door. Two more figures were coming down, and my fear intensified for a moment. The girl beside me, sensing this, took my arm in the same intimate way Gayleen used to do it on our private walks together. My fear vanished.
The two beings could only be "space men." The outfits were similar to hers, yet the boots were of a gray rubber, and rubber gloves were also worn. A metal collar held a large mirror polished and featureless helmet in place. The material was slightly grayer in shade, and rougher in material. They were about 6 - 7 feet tall.
The girl, led me to them, and they moved aside and fell in behind as she led me to the ramp.
A third figure came out, and I really felt uncomfortable around it. It was about 8 feet tall. It was dressed like the others yet somehow seemed robot-like. He came down, and at some unspoken order, took up post beside the ramp. He stood statue-still, with no one more movement. Obviously, he was on guard duty. His helmet was not as mirror like as the other two, and I could vaguely see "blocky" or machine like shapes inside. Two, bright red pin-point dots of light could be seen, and these may have been his "eyes." On his chest, was appeared to be four, small TV screens, surrounded by an assortment of winking lights and buttons. I felt as if he held awesome power at his command.
As we got closer, one of the figures behind me laid a hand on my shoulder. We walked past the "robot," and as we did, the "eyes" swiveled to follow me. I may have passed out, or was rendered senseless, because I only remember going toward the main door, but not going through it. The next thing I knew, we were inside a large circular room, which must have been the main control center. The two male figures took seats in front of a curved control panel and appeared to be having a discussion about something. There were others in the room dressed the same as the other two. I won't go into detail about the room. The female figure that was my "guide," gave me a brief tour of the ship. I really don't know how long I was aboard it, though. She kept ahold of my arm the whole time, carefully controlling our path.
More tomorrow of Warren's intriguing encounter.