Hiker Finds Pearl Harbor Plane In The Jungle With Airmen Still Inside

Rocked To The Core

Bart couldn’t believe what he had seen through the cabin window of the small charter plane. “There it is!” He shouted in disbelief.

He pinpointed the coordinates before they headed back to the small airfield miles away from the piece of history that lay forgotten in the undergrowth. That was until now.

Race Against Time

He knew he had to be quick now that he knew where it was. If he managed to see it from the air, who else would have been able to spot it?

It was a race against time to get there first. He had all of the proper permits, but he knew that the local “pirates” might beat him there and irreversibly taint the nearly hundred old relics.

Funded An Expedition

Bart called some of his old contacts. The same colleagues refused to go on a wild goose chase. But now that he had evidence, they couldn’t refuse the offer.

Fellow archaeologists and explorers from Oxford and Geneva hopped on a plane to meet him at the dusty airfield on the edge of the swamp. But they had no idea what they were getting involved in.

Colleagues Arrive

With his colleagues arriving, Bart felt a bit less tense. He had his friend from Geneva, Leon Accola, an intrepid explorer who helped him on his last few digs.

And then there was his colleague from the University of Oxford. Wilfred WIllman was an archaeologist just like Bart and had a good understanding of what they were looking for.

A Warning

The three men trekked through the swampy marshland, with Leon taking the lead. Bart had given him the coordinates, and he promised to get them there.

There it was, the gleaming hull of the plane half submerged in gooey muck. But what the men hadn’t considered was that something was very wrong, something the natives tried warning Bart about.

Going Inside

Without even mentioning the local gossip surrounding the artifact to his colleagues, they stepped and managed to pry open a hatch and get inside.

But once in the steel fuselage, the air took on a sinister feeling. That’s when Bart knew he had made a huge mistake; he had to get out of there at any cost.

Bartholomew Hedding

Bartholomew Hedding, or Bart to his colleagues, was always the most curious child in the room. He was called a curiosity, but his profession one day would reflect everything he did as a child.

His favorite thing to do at recess was dig deep into the sandbox, looking for any forgotten toys that had been lost underneath.

As An Adult

As an adult, that sense of wonder never left him. He outgrew the recess sandbox and now looked to the earth as his playground.

He knew he wanted to find lost relics that people hadn’t laid eyes on for decades or even centuries. That’s why he became an accomplished archaeologist.

A Dig Like No Other

Now a seasoned archaeologist with ten years of experience in the field, he was looking for his next big discovery. Every archaeologist had their white whale, and his was WWII-era relics.

Ever since his parents had told him about his grandfather’s exploits in the Pacific Theatre, he was captivated by recovering things that most people had forgotten about.

A Phone Call

Bart was working on a paper in his office in the early hours of the evening when he heard his phone ring unexpectedly. Who was calling him?

He didn’t like answering the phone outside of business hours, but in his line of work, he never knew who was going to be on the other end of the receiver.

Anonymous Caller

Bart reached for the phone and answered it with a hoarse, “Hello?” But the person on the other side of the phone wasn’t messing around.

The mysterious stranger on the other side of the phone said one simple phrase, “They’ve found it.” Before hanging up. Bart knew he had to act quickly.

Packing Up His Things

Bart checked his watch, it was 12:45 in the morning, but there was no time to waste. He packed up the things that he would need and hailed the nearest cab – he was going to the airport.

Bart had an arrangement with a few of the locals of the Te Henga wetlands in New Zealand. For the longest time, he knew it was somewhere there; he just wasn’t sure until now.

Heading Across The World

Bart booked a last-minute ticket to New Zealand. He was heading across the world in pursuit of the ghost that he had been searching for ever since he learned about the missing plane.

Once he got to the airport, he had to make further arrangements. He knew his base of operations would be a dusty airfield just a few miles from the swamp where the artifact was submerged.

Setting Up His Base Of Operations

Bart got a local guide to drive him out to the airfield, where he met with the rest of the guys that would be helping him. A local pilot would be able to take him up into the air to get a closer look at the swamp.

From there, he would be able to verify what his contact had told him – they had found it. That was Bart’s next move.

Warning Him

The locals didn’t seem pleased with Bart’s motives. He heard whispers as he walked past people on the street. It was apparent that they knew exactly what he had come for.

But that’s when a stranger stopped him in his tracks and told him something unsettling. They mentioned a superstitious story about the “ghosts from the swamp.”

Urban Legend

The local told Bart that many of the population had seen lights out in the swamp after dark. They were thought to be the ghosts of men that had died far from their own country.

Bart immediately knew what they were talking about – the WWII soldiers that had died in the plane wreck, but how did they know about it?

Dismissing It

Bart decided to dismiss the stories as superstition and went on his way. He had too many things to do and so little time. He chartered the plane to give him a view of the swamp to verify the claims.

The pilot took him up from the dusty airfield and circled the swamp for twenty minutes; that’s when Bart first saw the metallic gleam from between the trees – it was definitely there.

The B-17 Bomber

Bart was in-love; he saw what he had known went missing in early June 1944. A crew of ten set out from Pearl Harbour to their destination in Okinawa.

It was late in World War II, and the Pacific front was nearly over, but the men would never return to Pearl Harbour or to their families. But Bart had finally found them; he had a personal stake in this too.

Contacting His Colleagues

Bart called some of his old contacts. The same colleagues refused to go on a wild goose chase. But now that he had evidence, they couldn’t refuse the offer.

Fellow archaeologists and explorers from Oxford and Geneva hopped on a plane to meet him at the dusty airfield on the edge of the swamp. But they had no idea that he had ulterior motives.

Leon Accola and Wilfred Willman

With his colleagues arriving, Bart felt a bit less tense. He had his friend from Geneva, Leon Accola, an intrepid explorer who helped him on his last few digs.

And then there was his colleague from the University of Oxford. Wilfred WIllman was an archaeologist just like Bart and had a good understanding of what they were looking for.

Heading Through The Marsh

Bart and his colleagues carefully marched through the swampy marshland, with Leon taking the lead. Bart had given him the coordinates, and he promised to get them there.

The men weren’t superstitious, but the tree canopy made it hard for the light to reach them. There was an eerie feeling in the swamp, but the men had no idea what they had gotten into.

The Fuselage

There it was, the gleaming fuselage of the plane half submerged in gooey muck. It was surprising that some of the metallic paint hadn’t completely rusted over.

But what the men hadn’t considered was that something was very wrong, something the natives tried warning Bart about. But they didn’t care as they marched towards the relic.

A Hatch

Without even mentioning the local gossip surrounding the artifact to his colleagues, Bart told them that there should be a door on the wing.

Thankfully, the port side was raised out of the swamp where the door was located. They had a way in if they could find the hatch and get it open, but they should never have tried opening the lid on and letting who knows what out.

Couldn’t Pry It Open

They found the rusty hatch that Bart was talking about and tried to unjam it, but they’d need something bigger. Luckily, Leon always came prepared with a set of tools for the job.

He had tools for pulling, cutting, and, most importantly, prying. He pulled out a handy crowbar and got to work, popping the hatch open in no time, but a smell hit all of them at once with the door wide open.

The Sunken Fortress

Ignoring the smell, Bart encouraged them to climb inside the B-17 Flying Fortress, although it was now the sunken fortress.

But once in the steel fuselage, the air took on a sinister feeling. That’s when Bart knew he had made a huge mistake. He was about to see something he’d never be able to forget.

Not Alone

The floor of the plane was rusted and half submerged in swamp water. But that wasn’t what made them feel uneasy; it was because they weren’t alone.

Bart quickly realized that there were ten other souls inside the wreck, excluding his colleagues. His hair stood up on his neck as he noticed the crew.

Lost Souls

It seemed that his colleagues had noticed them too. The crew had never escaped the wreck alive. They must have all died on impact and had to call this steel wreck their coffin.

But Bart was counting on this. He was looking for something very special, even if it had nothing to do with the bomber itself. He had ulterior motives he hadn’t revealed.

Recognition

Tears formed in Bart’s eyes as he found what he had been looking for. It wasn’t actually the bomber that he was interested in; it was something else entirely.

He bent down and raised and looked at one of the crew members. They were nothing but a skeleton wearing a uniform now. But a flash of recognition sparked in Bart’s eyes as he looked at his collar.

The Gunner

Bart knew that there was only one way to be sure he was right. He slowly moved his hand closer to the lost soul, mustering up all of his courage to do so.

The crew member he was interested in was one of the gunners, still manning his post next to the rusted metal that used to be his machine gun. Bart was sure he was right.

A Familiar Name

Bart’s hands were shaking as he moved the rotted collar of the uniform down to reveal a glint of metal. He was surprised the metal beads were still holding the important tag for him.

He slowly and delicately took the dog tag and raised it out of the shirt, and wiped the face so he could see the crew member’s name. “I’ve finally found you,” He said as he looked at the name – Bartholomew Hedding.

To protect the privacy of those depicted, some names, locations, and identifying characteristics have been changed and are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblances to actual events, places, or persons, living or dead, are entirely coincidental.