By Forest Crawford

Reprinted from UFO Journal of Facts
UFO Archives, Tucson, AZ

The eggs had their typical lack of firmness and the sausage tasted more like greasy rope than pork links. The orders to mobilize saved me from this breakfast experiment. We proceeded down six flights of stairs below the COMPTRAPAC submarine base in San Diego to “shoot-the-tubes.” After placing my few pieces of jewelry in a container I climbed into the cylinder to travel the tunnels to an unknown assignment. I wondered what was so important to upgrade our pay from E-3 to E-6 before we left and besides that, we could not even finish breakfast.

As I am told of our departure, a familiar, uneasy feeling comes over me. When you push down on the accelerator in your car, one can feel the tug of inertia sinking you into your seat. When you travel the tubes there is no feeling of motion but you know when the door opens you will be in another place hundreds, even thousands of miles away.

For some comfort, I check to see if the watch hidden in my pocket was still there. I quickly look to see if it is even running. It seems to be working normally, so why no jewelry? Because of the electrical charge buildup perhaps?

The soft clang of the door opening made me tense again. I did not even feel us stop! Peeking at the watch I noted only 30 minutes had passed.

We must be in California, Nevada or Arizona, I thought. As I stepped from the windowless capsule I hear a military policeman murmur “Turners’ Rangers.” Our reputation had preceded us. As I re-adorned my jewelry the first surprise of this assignment was about to come.

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A high ranking Navy OSS Officer informs us that we will not be allowed above ground while in North Dakota. NORTH DAKOTA!! Several of us were led to a larger hanger-type room that had been quickly set up to function as a laboratory. Resting on heavy jack stands in the middle of the room was a large, disc-shaped craft. The chief scientist present was introduced as Professor Bear. As his briefing and some discussion proceeded, I rapidly developed a rapport with this talented, open-minded and gentleman.

The craft had crashed near Phoenix, Arizona and was moved to this North Dakota base. Two dead alien bodies with fatal radiation exposure were found outside the craft. I reflected on my OSS training for crash retrieval and remembered thinking, “Why bother? We will never get a chance to be involved in anything that exciting.” Well, not only was I involved, I was the security team leader. This meant that when the craft was opened I would be the first one inside! After all, one does not send a high-ranking officer or a chief scientist to possibly encounter an alien booby trap or extraterrestrial virus. Come to think of it the prospects did not excite me either. As Professor Bear prepared his ultrasonic sound generators for opening the craft, my apprehension turned to intensity; after all, this is what my training was for.

As the “Bear” turned his equipment on the smooth solid metal surface of the craft began to ripple like when you throw a stone in the water.

When the ripples seemed to gain harmonic stability the now liquid metal parted in a circular iris-like fashion. As I stepped inside I noticed a fresh pine scent and a strange smoothness to everything. The interior was rounded off and continuous with no seams or rivets. It was as if the walls, floor and ceiling were formed out of one piece of metal. Even a table in the center of the craft looked as though it had been pushed out of the floor. What appeared to be control panels had no knobs, switches or dials. There were strange symbols highlighting these futuristic yet simple consoles.

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The outside of the craft had no apparent damage yet the interior showed some distortion, possibly from the crash. Next to one of the panels I could see something that would challenge my training and challenge my perceptions of reality forever. The craft was just another piece of hardware, but seated next to the panel was a human!

Its gender was obviously male. Aside from his unusual dress he could have walked past you at the grocery store and not commanded much attention. Upon noticing some injuries about his head I instinctively and quickly moved toward him to help. His skin was a bronze color, reminiscent of Mediterranean or South American cultures. His hair was similarly brown and very short in a Roman or crew style cut. The only real difference in appearance from earth humans was that his ears were slightly pointed. He reminded me of pictures of Quetzacoatl, the deity of the ancient Toltecs.

He was conscious and in great pain. One leg was partially pinned by the shifting interior. I was examining cuts on his cheek and lip when I first touched him. An overwhelming feeling of compassion came over me as I heard his voice in my head. I could understand him clearly even though his mouth did not move. The communication was strictly telepathic. I perceived his fear of being harmed and told him that I would not let anyone harm him. Suddenly, a voice from the doorway refocused my attention on the duties at hand.

I called back that we had a live one. The craft filled with gloved and masked medical personnel to help free the occupant. He was quickly carried outside and placed on a gurney. I remarked that he felt heavy for his size and a few others that had assisted agreed. As the alien was whisked off for medical attention Professor Bear examined the inside of the craft.

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He found what he thought was a star map depicting the Constellation Eridanus and wondered if that might be where the alien was from. After a brief discussion concerning the nature of the communications, Bear asked me to accompany him to the medical lab. As we talked along the way I referred to the alien being as “Hank.” The professor asked if that was the name the alien had given me. I explained that it was not and that I had chosen that nickname based on its Native American reference to a “troubled spirit.” The professor smiled and said, “Hank it is,” and the name seemed to immediately stick.

Part 2

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