Page 51 of Flying Saucers Magazine - May 1959

IS SIAM A SECRET BASE FOR

FLYING SAUCERS

By

RON ORMOND

OUR HOUSE guest was a young Siamese girl, whose interest seemed more terrestrial than extra-terrestrial. Suppunica Snitswongs had come to America from Siam to continue her voice lessons and in that I was planning a trip to the Orient to do "THE GREAT RELIGIOUS MYSTERIES OF THE FAR EAST," I plied her with questions.

"What about flying saucers," I asked her, "have any been reported in your country?"

Suppunica's reply was not immeddiate, rather she seemed to ponder her answer.

"I do not know what you call flying saucers, Mr. Ron, but there are rumors of other things."

"Other things?" I inquired.

"Yes - other things that come from Heaven."

Now I had reason to ponder. After all Kenneth Arnold's report of sighting nine "saucer-like" objects flying at approximately 1200 miles per hour in 1947 was not really the beginning. One only had to check other records compiled by Charles Fort, or for that matter, refer to the Old Testament in Ezekiel, Verse 4: "And I looked, and, behold, a whirlwind came out of the north, a great cloud, and a fire unfolding itself, and a brightness was about it, and out of the midst thereof as the colour of amber, out of the midst of fire."

Perhaps, I thought to myself, our Siamese guest had reference to the very same kind of phenomena referred to in Ezekiel.

"What do you mean by things that come from Heaven?" I pressed further.

Then the story of an aboriginal tribe that lived in the northern sector of Siam was told.

"They're called Lahus," she furnished, "and have told many stories of big fiery wheels that come out of the sky and land near their village.'

"Hasn't anyone gone up there to investigate?" I almost exploded hardly able to contain myself.

"I don't know about that, but most Siamese let them alone because the Lahus are magicians and have great powers."

She broke off for a long moment, as though to select her words more carefully; "Perhaps they manifest the fiery wheels."

"Or perhaps," I finished speculatively, "others unbeknown to the Siamese, are using Siam for a secret base."

That's where we left it, that is, as far as Suppunica was concerned - but as for me, I was bound and determined to investigate the possibilities.

At the time my friend and companion in adventure, Ormond McGill and I were planning a tour of the Far East to film a rather unusual series for television. Cameras, sound equipment, power supplies, film and tape had already been purchased and checked, and while the greater portion of our film would be dealing with mysteries behind certain primitive beliefs, my enthusiasm never diminished for information regarding the subject of ufology.

"If I ever get to Siam," I told myself, "the Lahus and I have a date together."

Siam is located in the southeast corner of Asia, between Burma on the west and Laos, Cambodia and Viet-Nam on the east. Before arriving we had spent time in Japan, the Philippines, Hong Kong, Macau, Taiwan (Formosa) Viet-Nam and Cambodia. Our film and tape packs by now were literally bulging with interesting subjects and sound effects

Our flight to Bangkok had been uneventful and as soon as we had gone through the usual formalities of arriving passengers, i.e., customs, immigration, quarantine, etc., we headed for the unique city itself, which provided a vista of interesting sights, imposing and colorful temples and beautiful palaces. But despite these unusual wonders my anxiety to get to Northern Siam and the investigation consumed my very being. Our film taking was confined to the Bangkok area but even so, I kept probing, asking questions.

Had we held the line of questioning to fiery wheels, it might have proved fruitful sooner, however it was because of some unusual Buddhistic rituals we were photographing, our first lead was uncovered.

"Yes," an old Buddhist monk offered at Wat Pak Nam, "fiery wheels are occasionally seen in Ayudya."

Having arrived from Cambodia, where we had done rather exhaustive research and photography at Angkor Wat and Angkor Thom, our interest in ancient ruins had Included Ayudhya, provided time permitted. Now all that was changed, since meeting the Buddhist monk, Ayudhya was a must.

Our research showed signs of some advanced civilization that had lived hundreds of years before in Cambodia. Evidence had been found in the ancient Khymer monuments of Cambodia that established the Aryan tribes about 1000 B.C. Later when they built the two Angkors, they brought with them advanced religious conceptions, ancient secrets and wise men of the East. It was also said they brought a series of beings who ruled the world of psychical phenomena. Man could by profound concentration discover in himself what is divinely his from the eternal fount.

Our minds naturally went back to Plato's Atlantis and to Lemuria. These were highly advanced civilizations capable of levitating huge carved blocks of granites. By the same token, the very same kind of phenomena was evident in constructing the great pyramid of Gizeh. What methods did they use? Did they know the secret of nullifing gravity-or did they use some ancient secret to make tons of granite apparently weightless? Not that we wanted to link Angkor Wat or Angkor Thom with Lemuria, or with the great pyramid of Gizeh, but it did occur to us that the same principle of levitation could have been used. Unlike the pyramid of Gizeh the Angkor architecture is vastly different as various materials and numerous themes were used. Huge carved balusters, between them the surface engraved with square patterns in rosettes. From this background, stand out groups of graceful apsaras or celestial dancers with their rich conventional costumes and splendid head-dress.

The point was and is, one that many flying saucer enthusiasts put their credence in. Did these advanced civilizations have help from another source? And why were these strange crafts still seen in the area of Ayudhya? Perhaps the answers would unfold when we arrived at the ancient city itself.

Because of the rains we had to delay our trip to Ayudhya for about two weeks but when we finally did arrive it proved just as interesting as Angkors Wat and Thom. While there was no similiarity in architecture, it had its own distinct style with glittering tapering pagodas and exquisite carpet-like roofs of blue, yellow, red and green lacquered elegancies that had stood the ravishes of age. Like Angkors Wat and Thom, why was this ancient city also destroyed? Did it mean that they too had progressed to the point where their talents were used to the end of evil, instead of good? Or did they disappear into another dimension? Historical record doesn't give the facts that way but it's always been worthy of consideration.

The ruins of Ayudhya fascinated us, and as we photographed we probed into the mystery of the ancient capitol. Our break came in an unexpected manner. The ruins are overrun as a grazing ground for water buffaloes from the nearby rice fields. I thought some of this might make an interesting group of shots and in inquiring into the matter of whether I might get such pictures from one of the local tenders, I thought I might as well ask questions about saucers. The tender's reply was gratifying, even though his knowledge of the English language was limited.

"They are seen on occasions," we were told.

"Do they make any sound at all?"

"Sometimes, they are strangely quiet - other times, there is a slight humming noise."

"Where do they come from?"

"From the mountains, there," he pointed expressively in the direction of the mountain range in the north.

My mind went back to Suppunica Snitswongs and her statement of things that come from Heaven. I knew now we had to go to Chiengmai and get more information, first hand.

I shot a parting question at the tender: "Tell me, have you ever seen any of the people from inside the fiery objects?"

"I have not," I was told honestly, "but others here have seen them."

"Can we meet one of the people who have talked to them?"

"That would be impossible, they would never talk of their experience with an outsider-"

The tender never quite finished and for a moment we relived the age old 'east-west' problem. Suddenly he bowed slightly and walked away slowly in the direction of the grazing water buffaloes. My partner had been listening silently as he generally did in matters of UFOs. I turned to him and shrugged helplessly.

"Well what do we do now, Mac?"

"You'd better come along with me to Chiengmai, I suppose - that is unless you have other suggestions."

"Chiengmai suits me fine," I smiled, "just fine."

Chiengmai is the second largest city in Siam and we immediately enjoyed the change of scenery. While the surroundings of Bangkok are flat and extend into seemingly endless rice paddles, Chiengmai in comparison has a mountainous countryside and is known for its famous teak forests.

We had hardly settled down after checking into a local hotel when we began hearing things that made us hold our breath in avid anticipation. The Lahus had been feted again by the great fire gods, although not recently.

"How long ago?" I inquired anxiously.

"About two weeks ago," the hotel bearer informed us.

"Probably a forest fire," Mac snorted.

"Not forest fire," the bearer came back, "Chiengmai is in monsoon season."

I thought I understood rains and weather comparatively well; I was supposed to, being a pilot, but the monsoons were a weather all their own. Fifty inches of rainfall is a scant year there, and it has been known to go upward to a hundred inches. With that kind of rain, it could hardly have been a forest fire, especially during the monsoon season.

Ormond McGill had made a previous committment with Harold Young, an American naturalist who operated the local zoo and could not make the trek into the mountains above Chiengmai with me. Nonetheless it was through this connection I was able to acquire the services of a first-rate guide who was to take me deep into the teak forests.

We hired a driver who owned an English Landrover (somewhat like our American Jeeps) and two days later we started out to what I passionately hoped would be a real contribution to the field of UFOs. For five hours the driver painstakingly picked his way through mud puddles and boggy paths that seemed impassable. Finally he brought the Landrover to a halt.

"Can go no further," he said, "roads too bad."

Even though his words had to be translated, I had an idea of their meaning before the guide informed me. By now I knew my guide's name to be Loto and as I set about getting camera and equipment unloaded, Loto was making arrangements for our return trip to Chiengmai.

"Driver will wait here until we return," Loto informed, which gave me a feeling of security; that is, a temporary feeling of security.

"-But if monsoon brings much rain, he will have to leave ... Otherwise Landrover get stuck in mud and cannot return to Chiengmai."

I had a momentary glimpse of us walking back. It was a horrible thought, but if I thought I would have to await our rendezvous before plodding through the sticky ground, I was wrong. A few minutes later Loto and I were up to our ankles in it. Fortunately for us, Siam abounds in areca palms and tropical plants which gave us plenty access to solid ground, even though wet and steamy. My one concern was my camera and film, which I tried desperately to keep dry.

Two hours of steady plodding under the broiling sun one minute and intermittent rains the next, brought us to the first of the hills, and another half-hour of scrambling saw us on a rather flat summit.

There was a distinct difference in the formation of the terrain, and the hills seemed to go on and on without hint of human habitation.

We walked about another hour on the summit, but because dark comes rather suddenly in the Orient, Loto picked a dry campsite and made excellent provisions for our needs. Forming a lean-to out of palm and banana leaves, he then set about gathering bread fruit, mongo and pineapples which tasted delicious with the boiled rice he also prepared.

When I awoke the next morning it was raining slightly. For a time my eyes wandered about taking in the jungle wonders. I looked over to where Loto had slept and he was gone.

"Loto," I yelled.

I heard a rustle of bushes directly behind me, turning with a start I discovered my guide slithering back on his belly, drenched and muddy from the rain.

"Where have you been?" I inquired half angrily.

Loto motioned me to be quiet: "Somebody down there - behind rocks. . . . Me try to see who."

Among some of the wild animals in that area are the elephant, tiger, leopard-cat and while seen but rarely, the two-horned rhinoceros. Even though I am inclined toward an improvident nature, I had no desire to come face to face with that product. Furthermore, we were hardly prepared for such an encounter.

I noticed Loto's eyes straining in the direction of the rocks. I followed his gaze. Suddenly our perplexity was erased as we noticed a rather strange figure climbing up the hillside, his arm, with hand open, was raised in what was apparently a sign of reassurance.

"Lahu," Loto volunteered.

As the Lahu got nearer we judged him to be well advanced in years, but yet, different from the typical Siamese -although there were the unmistakable characteristics of that race. The national costume Is the panumg, a piece of cloth about a yard wide and about two and one half yards long. The middle of it is passed around the body, covering it from waist to the knees, and is hitched in front so that the two ends of equal length hang down evenly; these being twisted together and are passed back between the legs. Yet, comparatively few Siamese wear the panumg, however the Lahu probably knew nothing else.

"What brings the Lahu to our camp?" Loto greeted in local dialect. "Certainly he cannot be lost."

"Nay," came his reply, "it is to see my white brother," indicating me.

"Is this the first time you look upon a white man?"

"I have seen them before."

"Ask him," I shot to Loto, "what it is he wants of us."

I waited as my guide asked my question. Apparently Loto also decided to tell the Lahu of my interest in the fiery wheels. As they talked I examined the aboriginal's face. It seemed furrowed with a million tiny wrinkles. His eyes were almost coal black, inclined to the oblique, but they seemed to sparkle with a kind of perplexity when, I presume, Loto broached the question about flying saucers, or whatever they are called in the native Lahu dialect.

"He says it is true about the fiery wheels," Loto translated," but it is many days walk from here."

"Ask him if he will take us there." I inquired-then waited as Loto put the question to the aboriginal. His reply was a great disappointment.

"It would be a mission for nothing - they are not there now."

"Is the weather the reason they are no longer present?" I pushed.

The old Lahu smiled after my words had been translated.

"Your friend knows better," was all he would say.

I decided on a different approach.

"Tell him I have heard of the Lahu's great magic - perhaps the fiery wheels are objects of their own magic."

"Our magic is of a different nature."

I pondered for a brief moment, then; "Perhaps he will take us to his village so that we can question his friends also."

As I talked the old native watched me speculatively, a queer flicker coming into his eyes. I could have sworn he understood what I said, as I said it. Nonetheless he listened attentively as Loto asked him my question.

"Even I," he said, "cannot return now because of the raging streams and muddy slopes-perhaps when the rains have gone."

It didn't take a meteorologist to know that once the monsoon season arrived, it was simply a matter of considerable time before the wet weather subsided, and while I secretly hoped that I might be able to locate the village of the Lahu, or better still, take pictures of a `secret base' I still considered myself very lucky to get, what one might call, first hand information. I decided to take advantage of the contact and ply him with more questions.

I've since wondered whether some of the replies were figments of the Lahu's imagination, or whether they had some basis of facts. If they were facts, time could prove them revolutionary.

Loto asked him to draw a picture for me on the wet ground. He complied gladly. In a way it resembled a fire ball, with a kind of ray or tail, behind it. I immediately thought of an illustration, depicted on the Bayeaux Tapestry in the year 1066. [t too, resembled the drawing the old Lahu designed. My mind raced back through bits of other information: From the Tibetan, Phylos and his accounts; of Chinese Taoist records relative to Chen Jen who was "born on the wings of the wind and travelled from planet to planet." From Ezekiel: 16 "-and their work was as it were a wheel in the middle of a wheel."

I concluded one thing. Either the Lahu knew more than was being revealed at that moment, or else, their imagination had instigated rumors of an unprecedented nature and certainly gave the impression of flying saucers. On the other hand, how could anyone explain away the strange lights so often seen hovering near their villages?

My last recollection of the Lahu was as he stood waving a friendly goodbye. Time did not permit my remaining through the monsoon season, but of one thing I was certain: one day I would return to Siam and do a little more exploring into the subject of fiery wheels. When I do, I certainly hope it's stopped raining.

THE END