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Wednesday, March 12, 2014

Memories vs. Coincidence: part 3

Her first mission - in essence MY first mission - happened in a jungle. For years I thought maybe it was Vietnam, because the Vietnam war was really hot and deadly at about that time period. So I've spent a good amount of time looking for MKultra conspiracy theories involving the U.S. using children in that jungle. I've looked at jungle images, read excerpts, listened to soldier stories. And although some of the things were a close match, they never were a fitting match.

Her story: She arrived at the camp. It was a village type camp deep in the jungle. There buildings were close together and the jungle was a wall around the place. The road she walked on was wide and very dirty being made of dirt. She walked in by herself, but didn't go far. I'm not sure if it was her first time, second or third. I don't think it was her first because she was familiar with the terrain, although now that I think about it... having been her co-consciously once as a drunk accident, she has these tendrils that just... go everywhere. And she knows *everything* around her. She's very vastly aware. So who can say.

 The buildings were raw wood, unpainted. There were support poles that were round, sort of like cleaned trees, and rough looking roofs. To her left was a row of low buildings, almost like a long house, and at the end she knew was the cages. This is where run away people were kept. They were metal with thick bars and low to the ground. Maybe they were meant for large dogs.

This is problem one I have always had with the Vietnam scenario: from what I've found Vietnam kept people in bamboo cages. Not these filthy yet factory made monstrosities.

 If she walked ahead the road would curve (or maybe it split) to the right and down a few buildings would be the entertainment area. It was an open walled long house type structure. I'm not sure what those things are called. They're not quite gazebos or pagodas because they're square, and they're square because that's easy for people to build. There were a few tables under the thatched roof, and you could watch movies on a little screen. She'd never been entertained there, but she knew what it was for. I think there had been something going on there once when she'd come to the place, and she'd taken note of the activity.

 She knew that the immediate building to her right upon of the place had a radio in it, something that also acted like a sort of CB or something. It was a very valued piece of equipment by the camp leader, "Black", that no one was allowed to touch.

 When she arrived in front of that building, she was immediately met by Black who ushered her inside and angrily ordered her to curl up in a corner away from the radio and wait like a dog. So she did.

 He was an angry angry man who towered over her. His anger was directed at her, but he wasn't angry with her I don't think. She was there to help with a problem, and before long she was sent out of the village to do what she had to do. To find the hiding tribes. She was told they were her people, and she was there to basically help exterminate her own people. So. There were people that were hiding from the camp, and she had to find them.

She sensed her way through the jungle and came upon them. They had made themselves homes in clearings behind walls of bamboo and plants pushed together to act as camouflage. She pushed past the camouflage, and because she was a child no one thought twice about her presence. They carried on with their lives and she played in the dirt a while. A woman gave her something to eat. Then, once she had seen all she needed to see, she want back to "Black" and reported the location.

 Immediately, units would move out and attack the hidden villages. The people would be rounded up with no ceremony, carried back to the village, and locked in the cages. They were sentenced to die, and she knew this was so. The people would sit listless in their cages, full of despair. And she would stand nearby trying to fathom the fact of their emotion. Not just their emotion, but more the fact that they were feeling. She did not feel anything.

 She did this two, three times. Maybe less, maybe more? Always it was the same scenario. Always the same result. This is problem two I have always had with matching it to Vietnam: the villages she was locating to be rounded up had women, children, and a few men. It had no soldiers. They never whipped out guns and fought back. They never strapped bombs to the backs of their children. They always ran, terrified, and didn't get far because they were surrounded. (She knows because she was always brought along to watch the consequence of her action.) They weren't military units to be rounded up, and she wasn't helping the Vietcong put people in cages. So... not a fitting match. At all.

 The final memory of this first mission is standing on the outside of a big village - one with small houses as opposed to places cleared away in the brush hidden away in palm leaves like before. There's a lot of screaming. There's a large cloud of smoke or something. And there's a lone plane above the village dealing out the death. It's a black plane that flashes in the sun with a long nose. It has twin engines. I can't remember more about it than that.

 She had been inside the village when the attack began, but she'd run for her life and stood far away watching it happen. Out of reach, safe, and with nowhere to go really. This was different than before, because she always reported the attack location before something happened. This time she had still been inside. And the memories of the mission end there.

I've always wondered what happened to Black. So my husband and I have the audio book for American Conspiracies by Jesse Ventura. It's a very good book, and I enjoy listening to it when we're on a trip that's going to last at least an hour if not two. We got to the chapter about the Jonestown Massacre. Now I don't know about you, but I haven't heard much about that growing up for all it happened when I was a kid. "Don't drink the koolaid" is as far as my information went, and inside my mind I had mixed it up with the Waco tragedy and thought it had happened in Texas somewhere.

So when the book said this had happened in Guyana, South America my mind kind of did one of those record scratches. You know, the sound when the needles is ripped off the record and you have to stop everything in order to process. I turned the book off.

 My father spent some time in "French Guyana" shrimp fishing. He talks about it sometimes. He'd gotten married to a local headhunter and was actually doing quite well for himself. He had money, he had a wife, and he was respected with the tribe he'd become friends with. And then JFK was assassinated and he was deported back to America. Bye bye wife. Bye bye financial success.

 I waited until I got home, after I spent some time rethinking these memories, and dared to look at pictures of the Jonestown Massacre. The erratic leader, The Reverend Jim Jones, looks like Black. The village looks like the village. They had an open air meeting/entertainment area. Rumors are 700 people were hiding in the jungle when the massacre began.

And you know, I'd ignore all of that and cry coincidence if it weren't for the fact that Jim Jones had a radio device, a PA system, that he treasured very highly. He'd use it to talk to the village all night long. It was his baby. If it weren't for the radio... However, like I said at the beginning of this little three post series, until I get to actually hold a service record I can't say one way or the other.

It feels disrespectful to do like so many MKultra people do and go around touting "I was at this horrible event and I did these things!" besides. There were 11 survivors from Jonestown, and I look at pictures and look and look. I'm not in any of them. So I won't say that Jonestown is the event of her first mission. And to be honest if I did get to see my service record, if it exists, I'd probably not say anything in public. So rather, I will make note of this strange and scary coincidence.

There was this event that I've been remembering for years. And just last week I was made aware of an event that hit the news that happened during the same time frame. And the weird thing about these two events is they are a very, very close match. But out of respect to the Jonestown survivors... I can't say I was there. Because I don't know if I was, and logically it may not be true. I could have been told the story during an abduction or picked it up psychically from a twin. After all, if I went to Jonestown why didn't my parents notice I was gone?

 Logic. You have to hold your logic carefully when picking through things like this. I will be researching about Jonestown from here, though, and posting some of what I find. Because if I didn't know the story, then other people don't know the story. And we all should know the story. When you see things, ask yourself: who held all those crossbows? I've yet to see anyone make note of that so far.