On Dec 18, 3:57 pm, Cujo DeSockpuppet <c...@petitmorte.net> wrote:
"Sir Arthur C.B.E. Wholeflaffers A.S.A." <scie...@zzz.com> wrote innews:8e12ccc2-deb9-4f7b-8ffc-a21172fe5587@s21g2000prm.googlegroups.com:
On Dec 17, 3:08 pm, Cujo DeSockpuppet <c...@petitmorte.net> wrote:
"Sir Arthur C.B.E. Wholeflaffers A.S.A." <scie...@zzz.com> wrote
innews:6
3d7577d-367e-4139-b5e9-54c119e34...@13g2000prl.googlegroups.com:
On Dec 16, 1:56 pm, Cujo DeSockpuppet <c...@petitmorte.net> wrote:
"Sir Arthur C.B.E. Wholeflaffers A.S.A." <scie...@zzz.com> wrote
innews:5
96c5379-cfe2-48c9-9954-56a4dc569...@w19g2000pre.googlegroups.com:
On Dec 15, 2:38 pm, Cujo DeSockpuppet <c...@petitmorte.net>
wrote:
"Sir Arthur C.B.E. Wholeflaffers A.S.A." <scie...@zzz.com>
wrote innews:a
002a03b-54a1-4469-b2a0-28dd5f625...@a10g2000pre.googlegroups.com:
Again, your kind has no place here, so get out. You and your
cult are
non-entities and have been branded truth-terrorists by the
State apparatus. This is your last warning, until the next
one. D
on'
t
wait, surrender now!!
Address of the FEMA camp, please? I've been w-a-i-t-i-n-g.
If you can't find a FEMA camp, just give up at the nearest
police station,
Request DENIED, Artie/Gary.
Have it your way, I pray for you cult sakes that the General
decides not to drop 10,000 H-Bombs on your debunker compound!! If
he gives the heads up, I would recommend to head for the hill of
MARS!!!
Drop the bombs, Artie/Gary. I dare you.
That's is up to the General's staff, all I can do is make
recommendations.
Weaseling backpedal noted, Artie/Gary.
But a sober-minded person would of course use them
to get rid of the debunker problem.
That leaves you out, sockboi.
Exactly how many warnings do we have to give your cult? I guess the
General wants to make sure he has every one of you punks pegged! No
matter, this time good WILL triumph over evil, the side the debunker
represent. Now enough of your silly talk, leave these very important
subjects to honest researchers. And don't come back, EVER!!!
The Man Who "Outed" the U.S. Saucer Program:
Colonel Steve Wilson
A Short Biography By Richard Boylan, Ph.D
Note: This short biography is based on notes and communications from
Colonel Steve Wilson to me in the months before he died. It is
dedicated to the memory of this courageous soldier patriot.
There is much about Colonel Steve "Wilson"'s life that he will not
allow to be known, for good reason. Colonel Wilson is a hunted man.
Moving from state to state to evade several attempts on his life, he
currently is battling cancer. Like a number of other prominent
disclosers of top secrets about UFOs and governmental cover-ups
(astronaut Gordon Cooper, Congressman Steve Schiff, CSETI's director
and executive assistant Dr. Steven Greer and Shari Adamiak, and MJ-12
insider Dr. Michael Wolf), the Colonel is suffering from a cancer
which may have been externally "imposed" to silence him. But, like
these other brave witnesses, the death threats have only made even
firmer Wilson's resolve to tell all.
This biographical sketch is based on limited information provided by
the Colonel, and certain data from his discharge papers. I have
written this biographical sketch, as a tribute
to a man who feels the public's right to know extremely-important
information about extraterrestrial contacts supercedes a military/
intelligence cabal's misuse of "national security" secrecy to cloak
their misdeeds. Here then is, without varnish, Steve Wilson, the man,
the officer and the crusader.
Steve Wilson was born in the 1930's, and spent five years in a state
orphanage. In order to escape the savage beatings there, he ran away.
He had always dreamed of being a pilot. Befriended by a prostitute
with the proverbial "heart of gold", this tall 13-year-old was
accepted into the Air Force, when his newfound "mother" stated he was
16 and signed for him to enlist.
Starting out as a private, he worked hard to advance. He took U.S.
Armed Forces Institute courses, earned his high school diploma, and
then the equivalent of a two-year college degree. Simultaneously he
studied at Aircraft Mechanic School and became a certified mechanic.
Then he enrolled in Flight Engineer school and became a flight
engineer on B-17s . Later he was promoted to Staff/Sergeant and to the
personal B-29 staff of General Crabbe. The General took a liking to
Steve, and encouraged him to reenlist and take an appointment to Air
Cadet school at Kelly Air Force Base. Completing Cadet School,
he was promoted to 2nd Lieutenant Wilson, a fighter pilot at last.
Lt. Wilson's first assignment was the Fighting 12th Fighter Squadron,
Clark Air Force Base, the Philippines. As soon as he arrived, the
Squadron was reassigned to Korea. He promptly was reassigned to the
67th Fighter Squadron, forward-based at the Korean War's front lines.
He graduated from Mustang propeller fighters to sleek Sabre jets, and
was soon doing supersonic runs down MIG Alley, dueling Communist jet
pilots.
On one run into enemy territory to bomb a dam, Lt. Wilson dropped his
load of bombs and watched the dam burst. As he turned his plane around
to return to base, he felt pain in his stomach and looked down to see
blood gushing from his side. The lieutenant radioed in that he had
been hit by ground fire. He reported his position and fuel level, and
added that he was about to pass out and would not be returning. Lt.
Wilson's memory fades out at that point. But subsequent events point
to extraordinary intervention by unseen helpers that kept him alive.
Three days after Wilson radioed in that he was passing out, the
control tower at the 67th Fighter Squadron base saw an extraordinary
sight. Wilson's plane was coming in for a landing although its engine
was not running. The fuselage was surrounded by a strange greenish
light. Flight line personnel, the officer of the day and Base
Operations staff all looked on in amazement, as the plane made a
perfect dead-stick landing. Inside they found Lt. Wilson still
unconscious! He was rushed to a hospital. When he regained
consciousness, he noted that his shrapnel wound was almost completely
healed! Furthermore, base staff informed him that his plane still had
the same amount of fuel as when he was hit and radioed in his fuel
level. The Lieutenant quickly got out of bed and secured a copy of the
reports on his highly-unusual experience. Shortly thereafter the
original reports disappeared, and no one at the base would talk about
his miraculous return.
Soon Lt. Wilson underwent numerous tests, and was debriefed on his
mysterious return incident by what he calls a "strange group". They
administered testing, which revealed that his IQ had jumped from an
already very high 162 to an unheard-of 232. After the testing was
completed, he was returned to active duty. But other changes had taken
place inside the young pilot, affecting his ESP abilities.
Two months after Wilson's unexplained aerial rescue, one of his
squadron mates, Chuck, was shot down during an aerial dogfight over
Korea. Wilson and the others in the squadron watched him go down and
disappear. As they banked their planes to return to base, Wilson heard
the downed pilot's voice in his head. Chuck was crying for help.
Wilson jumped in his cockpit seat, startled. Then he heard the voice
again. Lt. Wilson broke formation and started descending to look for
him. The Squadron Commander screamed over the radio for Wilson to get
back in formation. The lieutenant pretended he couldn't hear the
Commander, and radioed that he was having plane trouble.
Wilson flew low, 100 feet above the ground, searching for Chuck.
Suddenly Wilson heard the downed pilot's cry (telepathically) that he
had just flew over him. "The other airman sounded distressed that I
would not see him," Wilson recalls. He banked 180 degrees, and came in
low. Wilson could sense that he was there somewhere. He spotted a
clearing with enough room to land, and set his plane down. As he
rolled to a stop, he looked around and saw the other man's plane
wedged under some trees. Wilson taxied over close, jumped out and ran
to the wreckage. Chuck was pinned in and badly hurt. Wilson tells the
rest simply.
"Where the strength came from I don't know, but I ripped the wreckage
away from him, lifted him out of the cockpit and carried him to my
plane. I threw the radio gear out to make room for him and me. With me
sitting on his lap, I taxied out and to the end of the clearing.
Swinging around, I saw there was very little room for a take-off. I
looked up, and said, "God, if you exist, help me get this motherfucker
off the ground." I held the brakes, and gunned the engine to the
breaking point, let go of the brakes and rocketed across the clearing.
The minute I felt myself off the ground, I began to raise the wheels.
The enemy broke cover ahead of me and began firing. I passed overhead,
and heard the crunch and ripping of metal as I left my wheels in the
trees. My plane became hard to manage with the undercarriage ripped
away. I finally made it back to base. I could see the fire trucks
lining the runway, and saw the tower blink. They were asking me to wag
my wings if I had no radio. What else could I do? I wagged my wings,
passed over the field so they could see the problem, made another 180
degree turn and started in low. I picked the dirt next to the runway.
"I felt the jolt as my plane skidded down the side of the runway and
came to a halt. The ambulance was the first to arrive, and I already
had Chuck on my back and headed for the ambulance. He had made it out
alive. I walked around the plane and saw all the bullet holes. [A
report later said that there were 38 bullet holes.] I patted her tail
and said 'Thanks, Lady.' Then I looked at the sky and said, 'You
too.'"
Despite being a rebel, and disobeying orders, (which luckily the
Squadron Commander could not prove), Lt. Wilson was awarded his first
Distinguished Service Award for gallantry above and beyond the call of
duty. He remarks about the incident laconically, "Another one I should
have been court-martialed for." Forty-six days later, he again
switched roles back from rescuer to pilot needing rescue.
Wilson's plane developed engine trouble over enemy territory, and he
was forced to land. When he saw the enemy coming, he burned his plane
to the ground, and was taken prisoner. Because he burned his plane,
and would give the enemy no information, he was beaten for three
straight days. After the first hour his subconscious mind took over,
and he felt nothing. Wilson recounts his captivity with grim detail.
"I remember them asking for information about my Squadron, and about
troop movements. I realized that if I could hold out long enough and
through enough torture, that they would believe anything I told them,
and maybe then they would leave me alone. After three days, they tied
a stick through my arms behind my back, and placed the rope around my
neck and down my back, tying the rope to my feet, which were pulled
up. If I tried to lower my feet, it would choke me, cutting off my
air.
"They placed me in a small bamboo cage about two feet wide and three
feet long, and three feet high. I lay there with my head on the
ground, with my knees spread and holding me upright, and trying to
keep the rope from strangling me. There was no room to lay down or
move. I remember the gooks pointing and laughing at me, and a hatred
began in my gut as I have never hated before. Suddenly this thing
within my mind kicked in. I remember them having to drag me out and
into this hut. My body could feel nothing.
"Someone cut me loose and my mind began to function. The other
prisoners said I had lasted 15 days out there, and was the only one
who hadn't broke within a week. It was almost a day before the
circulation would let me move my legs and arms. As soon as I could get
around they drug me back to the torture chamber as we all called it.
"I swore to myself that those dirty bastards would never break me. Now
I hated with a ferocity that even scares me to this day. I remember
watching as they stuck bamboo shoots in the joints of my hands,
piercing between the bones. I could hear myself screaming, but my mind
was calm, and felt no pain. After what seems like days, I was
returned to the other prisoners. After several days, I could move my
hands some."
It had been 32 days. Lt. Wilson decided that he had had enough. That
night another pilot and he saw their chance to escape. They made our
break for it. Two of the guards who had laughed at his torture were on
duty that night. Wilson moved up behind the first one and snapped his
neck, then felt him slid to the ground lifeless. The lieutenant took
his knife, moved around behind the other, and cut his throat without a
qualm. They then ducked into the underbrush and ran the rest of that
night. Later they found out that they were only twenty-eight miles
from friendly lines. They had to crawl on their belly, only daring to
do so at night. They ate grubs and roots, just as they had been taught
in survival school. It took 23 days to crawl back to U.S. lines.
Wilson relates the climactic moment of their escape. "We topped the
last ridge, and lay on our bellies watching the movement below from a
point that overlooked the valley.
Nuckolls rolled over on his back, and you could hear his leather
jacket pull loose from the frozen ground. 'We made it,' I yelled. I
heard Nuckolls softly sobbing. Who ever said that grown men don't cry?
The most welcome sound I heard was a sentry's shout, 'Who goes there?
Advance and be recognized or I'll blow your fuckin' head off.'"
The next defining moment in Colonel Wilson's life began during the
Summer of 1960. The Cuban Missile Crisis became a global concern, as
President Kennedy and Soviet Chairman Kruschev were facing off in a
deadly game of global nuclear showdown over Soviet ICBMs in Cuba, and
a threat of using the U.S. Navy blockade of Cuba to sink any more
freighter deliveries of ICBMs.
By now Steve Wilson had been promoted to Air Force Captain, and
Commander of a Tactical Fighter Squadron out of Wright-Patterson AF
Base, Ohio. His Squadron was ordered to Florida, and then deployed to
Guantanamo Naval Base in Cuba, with orders to provide air cover for
Navy ships doing picket duty in the Cuban Gulf.
In 1963 Wilson's squadron was ordered back to Wright-Patterson AFB. He
soon received an assignment to fly cover over Houston. Just prior to
this, Captain Wilson had been told that he would be assigned to
Majestic-12 as soon as this mission was accomplished, and that upon
his transfer, he would become a Major. [Majestic-12 (MJ-12), he would
soon learn, is the super- secret organization which controls UFO
surveillance and interdictions, retrievals and analysis of recovered
extraterrestrial spacecraft and occupants, and public access to any
information about these matters.] It would turn out to be a day that
would linger in his mind for a long time.
Captain Wilson's mission in Houston was to keep any planes away from
the city during President Kennedy's visit. His squadron had shoot-to-
kill orders for anyone who disobeyed their commands to stay back.
While flying protective cover over Houston, the news came over the
squadron's radio that President Kennedy had been shot in Dallas.
Wilson describes their reaction.
"I was shocked. I had met the man and really liked him. My eyes welled
up, and I could hardly see as we were ordered back to the airfield. I
could hardly see the runway. The tears were streaming down my face.
After landing, I watched some of the worst landings ever exhibited by
a squadron of Top Gun pilots. There wasn't a dry eye in the bunch."
After returning to Wright-Patterson AFB, Wilson was informed he was
receiving Top Secret clearance, and was being commissioned as a Major.
His indoctrination into the UFO secrets kept by the Majestic-12 agency
then began. He was shown the remains of the extraterrestrials and the
crashed UFOs from the Roswell incident in latter 1947, that were all
housed at Wright-Patterson's Hanger 84. He read reports he was shown
about that incident, and how Majestic-12 covered it up by putting all
the documents and expenses with a Soccoro, NM crash. He was informed
that, because of his special abilities, he was being assigned to
Majestic-12 (code name Majic12). As part of his duties, he would be
assigned to the 1st Special Forces Air Command, and would undergo
special training with Delta Force and then the Black Berets.
Wilson comments about that period. "I looked at these fellows I was to
train with. Every one was a trained killer and assassin. But it still
didn't prepare me for the MIB [Men In Black], The Wackenhuts [private
security firm operatives with government covert projects contracts.]
And all the Black Ops that exist deep within our government. This was
when I was told that I would cease to exist."
Major Wilson was informed that his job was so secret, that stops would
be placed on all his records and whereabouts, and that they would be
moved to Majestic-12. He was told that his telepathic ability was
needed for something very special, and that he would be on a "need to
know" basis, at least until he had a high enough security clearance.
Wilson recalls, "It made me feel very special, and inflated my ego
about 100%. Little did I know at the time that I would be involved in
one of the most dastardly and heinous coverups the world has ever
known. To think about it even today, makes me sick to my
stomach.....but at that time in my life, I felt I was serving my
country. I knew nothing of the greed and power of a few men, who were
later to be known as MAJI [the top executives of Majestic-12]."
For the next nine years, Major Wilson traveled to nearly every Air
Force base in the world, meeting and making contacts with key people
for MJ-12. Finally, in the summer of 1972, he was assigned to the 1st
Special Forces Air Command, Vandenburg Air Force Base. He was planning
on getting some rest and relaxation there. He had just put all his
gear away nicely, his B-4 travel bag finally empty and hanging in the
closet. No sooner had he finished unpacking than a man looking like a
refugee from a war camp sauntered into his room. The man flashed CIA
identification and told the Major that he needed to pack his bag, that
there was a plane waiting, and that they would be leaving in 20
minutes. True to his word, in 20 minutes the plane was taxiing to a
take-off.
Major Wilson knew better than to ask where they were going, but by
observation of the compass heading and the terrain, he knew they were
over Nevada. The plane circled and set down on a dry lake bed. Later
he learned it was Papoose Dry Lake [S-4], deep within the Nellis Air
Force Range in central Nevada. Even up close, the mountains and
terrain looked barren. They walked about 300 yards to a rock
outcropping. On the other side, nestled between some large rocks, was
an iron door with no handle. The scruffy-looking CIA man somehow
opened the door. They went inside and down a tunnel. At the end of the
passageway, Wilson glanced around quickly. He still marvels at the
size of the structure. "I could swear that the whole damned mountain
was hollow. Right down the middle was a runway, and at the end huge
doors, that I later found could be opened to allow a plane to take off
right out of the mountain."
The CIA man and he proceeded to an elevator without saying a word. The
CIA agent punched an unmarked button. Wilson does not know how many
floors they went down, because the elevator moved with lightning
speed. It descended so fast that he almost lost his dinner. He was
ushered out of the elevator and into an office down the hall to meet
the Full Colonel in charge. He saluted and sized up the tall angular
officer standing in front of him. The Colonel's beady eyes had a mean
look, which was matched by his cold and harsh attitude.
The Colonel informed Wilson of his duties, as well as the plane
schedules in and out of Nellis Air Force Base Headquarters, Las Vegas,
the closest acknowledged military facility. The Colonel also told
Wilson how to get there through the secret underground high-tech
tunnel- shuttle system connecting this installation with Nellis.
Wilson was also warned that anything he saw was Top Secret, and that
if he so much as breathed wrong, or opened his mouth about anything he
saw, it would be his last breath. Wilson noted soberly, "I believed
him."
Major Wilson had begun his duties at the Papoose Lake installation,
still not knowing what existed 30 stories farther down. He had been
well indoctrinated in Top Secret work and knew all the consequences of
keeping the nation's most guarded secrets. The past six years had been
slow and boring, he recalls, and other than what he saw at Wright-
Patterson AFB, he felt that he was in a vacuum going nowhere.
He was sitting in his office at S-4 mulling this over one morning,
when a Lieutenant Colonel Bennet came in. He asked Wilson if he was
busy, ("Like he gave a damn," Wilson
recalls), and said "Let's go." Wilson followed the Lieutenant Colonel,
and they eventually wound up two stories down at the super-secret
"S-4" UFO technology area. As they came out on a landing there, Wilson
saw eight different kinds of UFOs! There were intellectual-looking
people all over the area, whom he guessed were scientists. He glanced
at Bennett, who cut off his implied question with a curt "Forget it."
The Colonel and the Major went into a cubicle where there were about
twenty officers and civilians sitting around. Wilson was startled,
when a woman came in who was at least eight feet tall. There was not
an ounce of excess fat on her body, he recalls. She wore a strange-
looking jump suit, which had a "HI" pattern on the right side above
the breast line. To this day Wilson ecollects the details of this
striking encounter.
"The woman had finely-chiseled features. Her blonde hair cascaded
neatly past her shoulders. Her eyes were the bluest blue I'd ever
seen. Somehow she was different. Little did I know then, how
different! She sat a large crystal on the table, and without warning,
her fingers began to glow as she ran them over this crystal. A 3-D
hologram began to form above it! I looked around the room and
everyone's mouth was hanging open, and suddenly I noticed mine was,
too. Little did I realize that at that moment my life would forever be
changed. My past teachings slipped from me as I stared. My whole
concept of life did a 180-degree turn, as I watched the Hologram,
complete with sound, unfold the mysteries of the past and the present,
and of other worlds."
Colonel Wilson related that among the scenes, which the female
extraterrestrial's crystal hologram displayed for the assembled group,
was the history of the Earth and of extraterrestrial involvement with
it. That involvement included fashioning the consciousness of Jesus
and sending him to live among Earthlings to point to a better way to
understand life and to live. The extraterrestrial woman also showed
the officers and scientists scenes from inhabited planets of other
star systems. Wilson was transformed by this experience. "When it was
over, I knew that, whatever part I was to play in all of this, my life
as I knew it had ended forever."
He would go on to become appointed executive officer of Project
Pounce. Created in the final days of December, 1980, Project Pounce
is an elite group of Air Force Black Berets and military scientists
who rush to the scene of any UFO crashes, cordon off the area,
retrieve the extraterrestrial spacecraft and any occupants, then
"sanitize" the crash site back to its pre-crash appearance, and
intimidate any outside witnesses into silence.
Eventually rising to the rank of Colonel, and receiving a Ultra Top
Secret, Cosmic Q, level-27 security clearance, Wilson learned much
about the inner workings of the Majestic-12 agency. Wilson's UFO-
secrecy duties included interacting with covert "MIB" enforcement
goons from the Wackenhut private security firm on contract to MJ-12.
Wilson came to despise the "Whack"-enhut killers. The Colonel learned
about secret
space warfare operations, conducted by military astronauts trained at
a covert Air Force Special Academy. He found out that these military
astronauts fly U.S.-manufactured antigravity aerospace craft, such as
the two-man Lockheed X-22A disc, out of Vandenberg and Beale Air Force
Bases in California up into space. These military astronauts then
interdict UFOs deemed "unfriendly", and fire Star Wars weapons
to disable or destroy them.
Colonel Wilson even came to know some things about the top command of
MAJI, including the identity of two of its executive board members,
Chairman Henry Kissinger and advisory scientist Edward Teller, both of
whom hold the top-most Level 33 security clearances. He eventually
learned enough about their avarice and hunger for power to sicken him.
He discovered that the MAJI were "so powerful that they acted as
though they were above the President, and the laws of nature and
mankind." To his distress Wilson found out later that they were to be
known as the New World Order.
Finally sickening of the unconstitutional and unethical activities of
the Majestic-12 agency, and of his involvement in "one of the most
dastardly and heinous coverups the world has ever known", Wilson got
out. At retirement, after 40 years in the Air Force, Lt. Colonel
Wilson was Flight Commander of the First Special Forces Air Command,
Vandenburg Air Force Base. His decorations include: the Air Force
Distinguished Service Medal, the Silver Star, two Air Force
Distinguished Flying Crosses, two Purple Hearts, the Joint Services
Commendation Medal, the Air Force Commendation Medal, the USAF
Good Conduct Medal and the National Defense Service Medal.
After musing for 15 years, he decided to risk his life and tell all.
The means he used is the global communication tool of the Internet.
His torrent of disclosures of sensitive
information has been placed on the Skywatch webpage, [<www.wic.net/
colonel/ufopage.htm]. He was a frequent communicator on the UFO
information newsgroup he founded, currently Skywatch_ok@msn. com.
After years of military and intelligence career-building by playing by
the rules, Lt. Colonel in retirement displayed the highest patriotism
of all, whistle-blowing on the corrupt MJ-12 parallel government. Now
stricken with cancer, Steve Wilson assesses the price of his years in
the "Black World" of the UFO Cover-Up. "I have no feelings,
truthfully. My association with MAJI has left me dead inside. I feel
myself still cold and calculating. I never let anyone get close to me.
I feel like a human robot. I have killed mercilessly and lied for the
good of the country, or so I believed at the time."
His final comments cryptically hint at what everyone will soon know
about extraterrestrial visitation, and the profound changes society
will make as a consequence. "The things I have seen are beyond human
understanding and totally unbelievable. I only have a desire to help
humanity somehow through what is bound to come soon."
This short biography is based on notes and communications from Colonel
Steve Wilson to me in the months before he died. It is dedicated to
the memory of this courageous soldier patriot. -Richard Boylan, Ph.D.
Richard Boylan, Ph.D. 2826 O Street, Suite 2, Sacramento, CA 95816,
USA. (916) 455-0120 E-mail: rich.boylan@24stex.com ;
Primary website: http://www.ufonetwork.com/boylan/ Author: Close
Extraterrestrial Encounters, Labored Journey To The Stars and Project
Epiphany. Regular columnist in "Contact Forum" UFO newsletter:(800)
366-0264; and Bob Dean's "Stargate Newsletter": Stargate@rtd.com