WARNINGS OF EVIL

Sun (Auckland), Volume IV, Issue 951, 19 April 1930, Page 11

WARNINGS OF EVIL

“DARE-DEVIL" SAMSON BELIEVES IN PREMONITIONS MESSAGES FROM UNSEEN? Few will suspect Air-Commodore Samson, '‘Dare-devil'' Samson, the dashing air and armoured car leader, on whose head the Germans placed a huge price, of being psychic or dabbling in spook-lore. Yet the Commodore writes in the “Sunday News,” a startling confession of his belief in the warnings of portending evil ■which are flashed front the spirit world, and some striking examples of what followed the ignoring of what we loosely term premonition. We have heard a great deal lately of psychic mediums whose claims to communicate with “controls” in the spirit world have not always been substantiated, he says. There has been heated argument among scientific observers concerning the phenomena produced, hut as yet little attention has been' paid to another and more interesting avenue—the causes of which may be called the “premonition of evil.” It cannot be doubted that there are almost daily instances of this mysterious power which are put down to coincidence, yet that is an explanation which in no way covers the facts. I should think that I am one of the most unpsychic persons in the world, yet I have known many cases where neither I nor anyone else could account for warnings which appear to come direct from the “other side.” Impending Tragedy Some years ago ‘I was in command of the Royal Naval Flying School at Eastchurch. I had been home for a week-end, and one of my officers, a paymaster-lieutenant, called in for breakfast before we returned together by train. On the journey he was so silent that Tasked him the reason. “I’ve got a premonition,” he replied. “Something pretty awful is going to happen. Don’t ask me how or why —I just know!” I did not press him further, since at that very moment I was experiencing the same feelings! Some inner voice was warning me—“Do not fly today!” and do what I could I was unable to escape a feeling of impending doom. Yet I realised that it was out of the question to allow that creeping terror to dominate me, and immediately we arrived at the flying school I ordered out a machine. As I taxied off I wondered whether I should ever return alive, and for ten minutes every nerve was strained for'a false note in the engine or the twang of an important wire, the breaking of which might send the machine spinning earthwards. Yet nothing happened. I landed, only to meet a white.-faced sailor, who rushed up to say that the paymasterlieutenant had been killed. In the centre of a little crowd I found the poor fellow, who had been standing in front of an airplane, and had been caught in the propeller as it started off. . “DoitF leave me, old man —don’t let go! ” he muttered, as I knelt beside him and gripped his hand. The pilot of the machine, W—L , was standing beside us with the tears rolling down his face, for the lieutenant was one of the most popular men on the station. Commander’s Dilemma Within an hour he was dead, and I was left wondering what could have been the cause of that premonition which had been fulfilled in so ghastly a, manner. Possibly from fear of being ridiculed I mentioned my premonition to no one, but within a fortnight it returned more strongly than before. This time it was so strong that I actually considered the issue of orders cancelling all flying practice for that day. Then I realised that this would be impossible. It would create a sort of mental precedent Involving an inferiority complex, and each time the feeling returned I should feel a stronger inclination to give way before the unuttered warning. Thus it was that routine went on as usual, and not one of my officers or men knew of that secret fear which lurked behind an impassive exterior. That decision proved fafcl. Throughout the morning I had been cn tenterhooks, expecting each moment to hear of an accident, but it was not 'till the afternoon that it actually occurred. The same oflicer. TV R , who had been concerned in the previous fatality, spun to the ground from a height of 200 feet, and once again my mysterious premonition of evil proved true. It is possible that these two incidents were purely fortuitous, the result of coincidence, and they may have worked on my mind to such an extent that I went about “looking for trouble.” But it is curious that only a short time later the inexplicable feeling returned - a third time, heralding the death of one of my men who was also killed by a propeller. It -was then that I promised myself to stop all flying for the day if ever these premonitions occurred again. Oddly enough, they never did, at least not until I was in the operations at the Dardanelles. One morning it appeared like magic out of a blue sky, accompanied by the thunder of big guns. The Mysterious Guide There was no reason for it, but I would have sworn on oath that some terrible evil was about to befall me or one of my friends.. This time it was poor Collett, one of my old Eastchurch pilots, who went up on reconnaissance and crashed to his death before our eyes on the edge of the airdrome. Possibly airmen are gifted- with some extra sense denied to others, for within my own knowledge there have been several cases where pilots have admitted to a premonition of disaster. Vet I have never known an instance where, on account of that, they have made the slightest effort to escape duties which they felt might involve their deaths. It may he that the dangers they run key their nerves up to a pitch so rceptive that they receive “messages” to which the ordinary man remains deaf; but there is also the problem which faced me as, time after time, those premonitions proved true. Ought I to have stopped all flying, and should I thus have saved valuable lives for the country? In poor Collett’s case that was impossible, since we were on active service; but in the case of the others perhaps that little interval of time might have served to allow the danger period to pass. For some years I was free from this “influence,” yet not long ago it occurred once more, when I was in com-

mand of all the fighting squadrons whose headquarters were at Kenley I Airdrome. I had been in London when assailed by that black depression, and as I motored back I decided this time to obey the warning. Alas! it was too late. When arriving at the airdrome I saw one of my pilots dive vertically to earth within a few hundred yards of my car! To Scotsmen the word “fey'' is full of meaning, and to my mind there is little doubt that many ordinary people are susceptible to messages, which, often through fear of ridicule, they ignore or keep silent about. Perhaps within a few years psychic research will bring us enlightenment on this point but, meantime, I shall take no further chances if and when that terrible feeling of foreboding returns. I shall immediately take steps to warn nxy friends of their peril.