 Even as late as the First World War, men climbed into the cockpits of their planes with a strained sense of acceleration, as though they expected some sort of mystical experience beyond the clouds. And indeed, there is, in the official records of the British Air Force, a story of two men who may well have had such an experience, though what it was, no one will ever know. The two men were Australians, one a pilot, the other an observer. On a morning in the autumn of 1917, they set out in an RE-8 on a reconnaissance flight together with a second plane. Three hours passed, and then the officer heard the roar of an approaching motor. He stepped out on the field and shading his eyes from the sun glanced upward. There was only one plane overhead. He scanned the sky anxiously, but to no avail. The RE-8 was missing. The other planes circled the field, landed, and taxied up to the airfield. When the pilot leaped from the cockpits, he found the officer waiting for him. Trouble? Oh, not so bad, sir. A couple of finies intercepted us on the way back. But the other men? Where were they? Hanged upon there, sir. When the dogfight was over, we got back on the course. We took it for granted they were right behind us, and so they were, at least for a minute or two. And then? Well, they flew into a cloud. They should have come right out again. What could have happened to them? I don't know, sir. By mid-afternoon, a heavy salance settled over the occupants of the air-droom. The grim, almost sullen salance of men who know that two more of their comrades must be reported missing in action. Well, got to send out a call for replacements. They may show up yet, sir. Don't be a fool. Where could they be? That's just the point, sir. There must be some place they couldn't have crashed. They met another enemy plane. But there weren't any others. Not between here and the spot we last saw them. Well, nevertheless, I... Wait a moment, sir. Look! Look out there! Isn't that an RE-8? And so it was. The missing plane, its wings gleaming in the afternoon sunlight, slowly approached the field. Listen, sir. Can you hear her motor? I know. I can't. She's flying dead, sir. And that means trouble. In almost eerie silence, the RE-8 settled slowly to the earth. She landed smoothly and gracefully without a jolt, without even a shudder. The men hurried across the field, expecting each moment to see the two Australians climb out of the cockpit. But no one appeared. When the officer reached the side of the plane, he could see its passengers still sitting quiet and motionless in their place. Where on earth have you... Look at them! Good Lord, sir. They're dead. Both of them. What's more, they've been dead for hours! Medical examination served to corroborate the officer's judgment. The two Australians had died not long after they had last been seen. The plane itself had flown on until it was out of gas. And then it had made a perfect landing on its home field. Where it had been in the interim, what had kept it in the air, whether it was by mere coincidence, that it had returned to the air-droom. All of these things are subjects for speculation. Only one thing is certain that this is a story which so far has defied explanation. A story incredible but true.