SPIRIT BBS, Vilas N.C. 704-297-5973 704-297-6003
Yesterday I received this diary of Admiral Byrd flight over
the North Pole. After reviewing the copy of his diary I noticed
there was no copy write on it so I decided to share this inter
esting account for others. Kortron
THE FLIGHT TO THE LAND BEYOND THE NORTH POLE
A Copy Of Admiral Richard B. BYRD
foreword by: Dr. William Bernard Ph.d., D.D.
The reader of the following documentation should find a
striking example of dire devotion. Especially when one considers
that this log diary was written in the year 1947 in the months of
February and March, under circumstances that evidently defied the
imagination and credibility, for those times as any others. Here
is dealt with the evident answers the origin of the so called
UFOs,as well as the Hollow Earth, or as the admiral described.
Â¨ Â¨ !
( The Land Beyond The Poles )
The reader will relive that period as he reads this docu
ment. To say it is fascinating is to place it mildly, but to read
it now for yourself, I know that you will conclude, in the Admi
rals own words ” Just as the long night of the Arctic ends, the
brilliant sunshine of truth shall come forth again, and those who
are of Darkness shall fall in its Light”. DR. D.B.
F F !
Admiral Richard B. Byrd’s ( Diary Feb. Mar. 1947 )
The exploration flight over the North Pole
( The Inner Earth My Secret Diary )
I must write this diary in secrecy and obscurity. It con
cerns my Arctic flight of the nineteenth day of February in the
year of Nineteen and Forty Seven.
There comes a time when the rationality of men must fade
into insignificance and one must accept the inevitability of the
Truth! I am not at liberty to disclose the following documenta
tion at this writing …perhaps it shall never see the light of
public scrutiny, but I must do my duty and record here for all to
read one day. In a world of greed and exploitation of certain of
mankind can no longer suppress that which is truth.
$ $ !
FLIGHT LOG: BASE CAMP ARCTIC, 2/19/1947
0600 Hours- All preparations are complete for our flight north
ward and we are airborne with full fuel tanks at 0610 Hours.
0620 Hours- fuel mixture on starboard engine seems too rich,
adjustment made and Pratt Whittneys are running smoothly. Ã° 7 Â3
Å 0730 HouRadio Check with base camp. All is well and radio
reception is normal.
0740 Hours- Note slight oil leak in starboard engine, oil pres
sure indicator seems normal, however.
0800 Hours- Slight turbulence noted from easterly direction at
altitude of 2321 feet, correction to 1700 feet, no further turbu
lence, but tail wind increases, slight adjustment in throttle
controls, aircraft performing very well now.
0815 Hours- Radio Check with base camp, situation normal.
0830 Hours- Turbulence encountered again, increase altitude to
2900 feet, smooth flight conditions again.
0910 Hours- Vast Ice and snow below, note coloration of yellowish
nature, and disperse in a linear pattern. Altering course foe a
better examination of this color pattern below, note reddish or
purple color also. Circle this area two full turns and return to
assigned compass heading. Position check made again to base camp,
and relay information concerning colorations in the Ice and snow
0910 Hours- Both Magnetic and Gyro compasses beginning to gyrate
and wobble, we are unable to hold our heading by instrumentation.
Take bearing with Sun compass, yet all seems well. The controls
are seemingly slow to respond and have sluggish quality, but
there is no indication of Icing!
0915 Hours- In the distance is what appears to be mountains.
0949 Hours- 29 minutes elapsed flight time from the first sight
ing of the mountains, it is no illusion. They are mountains and
consisting of a small range that I have never seen before!
0955 Hours- Altitude change to 2950 feet, encountering strong
1000 Hours- We are crossing over the small mountain range and
still proceeding northward as best as can be ascertained. Beyond
the mountain range is what appears to be a valley with a small
river or stream running through the center portion. There should
be no green valley below! Something is definitely wrong and
abnormal here! We should be over Ice and Snow! To the portside
are great forests growing on the mountain slopes. Our navigation
Instruments are still spinning, the gyroscope is oscillating back
1005 Hours- I alter altitude to 1400 feet and execute a sharp
left turn to better examine the valley below. It is green with
either moss or a type of tight knit grass. The Light here seems
different. I cannot see the Sun anymore. We make another left
turn and we spot what seems to be a large animal of some kind
below us. It appears to be an elephant! NO!!! It looks more Ã° 7 Â3 Å likmammoth! This is incredible! Yet, there it is! Decrease
altitude to 1000 feet and take binoculars to better examine the
animal. It is confirmed – it is definitely a mammoth-like ani
mal! Report this to base camp.
1030 Hours- Encountering more rolling green hills now. The
external temperature indicator reads 74 degrees Fahrenheit!
Continuing on our heading now. Navigation instruments seem
normal now. I am puzzled over their actions. Attempt to contact
base camp. Radio is not functioning!
1130 Hours- Countryside below is more level and normal (if I may
use that word). Ahead we spot what seems to be a city!!!! This
is impossible! Aircraft seems light and oddly buoyant. The
controls refuse to respond!! My GOD!!! Off our port and star
board wings are a strange type of aircraft. They are closing
rapidly alongside! They are disc-shaped and have a radiant
quality to them. They are close enough now to see the markings
on them. It is a type of Swastika!!! This is fantastic. Where
are we! What has happened. I tug at the controls again. They
will not respond!!!! We are caught in an invisible vice grip of
1135 Hours- Our radio crackles and a voice comes through in
English with what perhaps is a slight Nordic or Germanic accent!
The message is: ‘Welcome, Admiral, to our domain. We shall land
you in exactly seven minutes! Relax, Admiral, you are in good
hands.’ I note the engines of our plane have stopped running!
The aircraft is under some strange control and is now turning
itself. The controls are useless.
1140 Hours- Another radio message received. We begin the landing
process now, and in moments the plane shudders slightly, and
begins a descent as though caught in some great unseen elevator!
The downward motion is negligible, and we touch down with only a
1145 Hours- I am making a hasty last entry in the flight log.
Several men are approaching on foot toward our aircraft. They
are tall with blond hair. In the distance is a large shimmering
city pulsating with rainbow hues of color. I do not know what is
going to happen now, but I see no signs of weapons on those
approaching. I hear now a voice ordering me by name to open the
cargo door. I comply. END LOG
From this point I write all the following events here from memo
ry. It defies the imagination and would seem all but madness if
it had not happened.
The radioman and I are taken from the aircraft and we are re
ceived in a most cordial manner. We were then boarded on a small
platform-like conveyance with no wheels! It moves us toward the
glowing city with great swiftness. As we approach, the city
seems to be made of a crystal material. Soon we arrive at a
large building that is a type I have never seen before. It Ã° 7 Â3 Å appear be right out of the design board of Frank Lloyd
Wright, or perhaps more correctly, out of a Buck Rogers setting!!
We are given some type of warm beverage which tasted like nothing
I have ever savored before. It is delicious. After about ten
minutes, two of our wondrous appearing hosts come to our quarters
and announce that I am to accompany them. I have no choice but
to comply. I leave my radioman behind and we walk a short dis
tance and enter into what seems to be an elevator. We descend
downward for some moments, the machine stops, and the door lifts
silently upward! We then proceed down a long hallway that is lit
by a rose-colored light that seems to be emanating from the very
walls themselves! One of the beings motions for us to stop
before a great door. Over the door is an inscription that I
cannot read. The great door slides noiselessly open and I am
beckoned to enter. One of my hosts speaks. ‘Have no fear,
Admiral, you are to have an audience with the Master…’ I step
inside and my eyes adjust to the beautiful coloration that seems
to be filling the room completely. Then I begin to see my sur
roundings. What greeted my eyes is the most beautiful sight of
my entire existence. It is in fact too beautiful and wondrous to
describe. It is exquisite and delicate. I do not think there
exists a human term that can describe it in any detail with
justice! My thoughts are interrupted in a cordial manner by a
warm rich voice of melodious quality, ‘I bid you welcome to our
domain, Admiral.’ I see a man with delicate features and with
the etching of years upon his face. He is seated at a long
table. He motions me to sit down in one of the chairs. After I
am seated, he places his fingertips together and smiles. He
speaks softly again, and conveys the following. ‘We have let you
enter here because you are of noble character and well-known on
the Surface World, Admiral.’ Surface World, I half-gasp under my
breath! ‘Yes,” the Master replies with a smile, ‘you are in the
domain of the Arianni, the Inner World of the Earth. We shall
not long delay your mission, and you will be safely escorted back
to the surface and for a distance beyond. But now, Admiral, I
shall tell you why you have been summoned here. Our interest
rightly begins just after your race exploded the first atomic
bombs over Hiroshima and Nagasaki, Japan. It was at that alarm
ing time we sent our flying machines, the “Flugelrads”, to your
surface world to investigate what your race had done. That is,
of course, past history now, my dear Admiral, but I must continue
on. You see, we have never interfered before in your race’s
wars, and barbarity, but now we must, for you have learned to
tamper with a certain power that is not for man, namely, that of
atomic energy. Our emissaries have already delivered messages to
the powers of your world, and yet they do not heed. Now you have
been chosen to be witness here that our world does exist. You
see, our Culture and Science is many thousands of years beyond
your race, Admiral.’ I interrupted, ‘But what does this have to
do with me, Sir?’
The Master’s eyes seemed to penetrate deeply into my mind, and
after studying me for a few moments he replied, ‘Your race has
now reached the point of no return, for there are those among you
who would destroy your very world rather than relinquish their Ã° 7 Â3 Å pows they know it…’ I nodded, and the Master continued,
‘In 1945 and afterward, we tried to contact your race, but our
efforts were met with hostility, our Flugelrads were fired upon.
Yes, even pursued with malice and animosity by your fighter
planes. So, now, I say to you, my son, there is a great storm
gathering in your world, a black fury that will not spend itself
for many years. There will be no answer in your arms, there will
be no safety in your science. It may rage on until every flower
of your culture is trampled, and all human things are leveled in
vast chaos. Your recent war was only a prelude of what is yet to
come for your race. We here see it more clearly with each
hour..do you say I am mistaken?’
‘No,’ I answer, ‘it happened once before, the dark ages came and
they lasted for more than five hundred years.’
‘Yes, my son,’ replied the Master, ‘the dark ages that will come
now for your race will cover the Earth like a pall, but I believe
that some of your race will live through the storm, beyond that,
I cannot say. We see at a great distance a new world stirring
from the ruins of your race, seeking its lost and legendary
treasures, and they will be here, my son, safe in our keeping.
When that time arrives, we shall come forward again to help
revive your culture and your race. Perhaps, by then, you will
have learned the futility of war and its strife…and after that
time, certain of your culture and science will be returned for
your race to begin anew. You, my son, are to return to the
Surface World with this message…..’
With these closing words, our meeting seemed at an end. I stood
for a moment as in a dream….but, yet, I knew this was reality,
and for some strange reason I bowed slightly, either out of
respect or humility, I do not know which.
Suddenly, I was again aware that the two beautiful hosts who had
brought me here were again at my side. ‘This way, Admiral,’
motioned one. I turned once more before leaving and looked back
toward the Master. A gentle smile was etched on his delicate and
ancient face. ‘Farewell, my son,’ he spoke, then he gestured with
a lovely, slender hand a motion of peace and our meeting was
Quickly, we walked back through the great door of the Master’s
chamber and once again entered into the elevator. The door slid
silently downward and we were at once going upward. One of my
hosts spoke again, ‘We must now make haste, Admiral, as the
Master desires to delay you no longer on your scheduled timetable
and you must return with his message to your race.’
I said nothing. All of this was almost beyond belief, and once
again my thoughts were interrupted as we stopped. I entered the
room and was again with my radioman. He had an anxious expres
sion on his face. As I approached, I said, ‘It is all right,
Howie, it is all right.’ The two beings motioned us toward the
awaiting conveyance, we boarded, and soon arrived back at the Ã° 7 Â3 Å airc. The engines were idling and we boarded immediately.
The whole atmosphere seemed charged now with a certain air of
urgency. After the cargo door was closed the aircraft was imme
diately lifted by that unseen force until we reached an altitude
of 2700 feet. Two of the aircraft were alongside for some dis
tance guiding us on our return way. I must state here, the
airspeed indicator registered no reading, yet we were moving
along at a very rapid rate.
215 Hours- A radio message comes through. ‘We are leaving you
now, Admiral, your controls are free. Auf Wiedersehen!!!!’ We
watched for a moment as the flugelrads disappeared into the pale
The aircraft suddenly felt as though caught in a sharp downdraft
for a moment. We quickly recovered her control. We do not speak
for some time, each man has his thoughts….
ENTRY IN FLIGHT LOG CONTINUES:
220 Hours- We are again over vast areas of ice and snow, and
approximately 27 minutes from base camp. We radio them, they
respond. We report all conditions normal….normal. Base camp
expresses relief at our re-established contact.
300 Hours- We land smoothly at base camp. I have a mission…..
END LOG ENTRIES.
March 11, 1947. I have just attended a staff meeting at the
Pentagon. I have stated fully my discovery and the message from
the Master. All is duly recorded. The President has been ad
vised. I am now detained for several hours (six hours, thirty-
nine minutes, to be exact.) I am interviewed intently by Top
Security Forces and a medical team. It was an ordeal!!!! I am
placed under strict control via the national security provisions
of this United States of America. I am ORDERED TO REMAIN SILENT
IN REGARD TO ALL THAT I HAVE LEARNED, ON THE BEHALF OF
HUMANITY1111 Incredible! I am reminded that I am a military man
and I must obey orders.
30/12/56: FINAL ENTRY:
These last few years elapsed since 1947 have not been kind…I
now make my final entry in this singular diary. In closing, I
must state that I have faithfully kept this matter secret as
directed all these years. It has been completely against my
values of moral right. Now, I seem to sense the long night
coming on and this secret will not die with me, but as all truth
shall, it will triumph and so it shall.
This can be the only hope for mankind. I have seen the truth and
it has quickened my spirit and has set me free! I have done my
duty toward the monstrous military industrial complex. Now, the
long night begins to approach, but there shall be no end. Just Ã° 7 Â3 Å as long night of the Arctic ends, the brilliant sunshine of
Truth shall come again….and those who are of darkness shall
fall in it’s Light..FOR I HAVE SEEN THAT LAND BEYOND THE POLE,
THAT CENTER OF THE GREAT UNKNOWN.
Admiral Richard E. Byrd
United States Navy
24 December 1956