ACUFO:

'FLYING LIGHTS' A STRANGE
AND UNEXPLAINED
PHENOMENON

By Cedric R. Mentiplay

The passengers and crew of an Auckland-bound National Airways Corporation Dakota from Wellington who on Monday night saw mysterious "flying lights" traveling at high speed along their aircraft are only the most recent witnesses in a strange and unexplained phenomenon which for at least thirteen years has been baffling scientists.

The lights were similar in all respect to those reported in December, 1942, by a New Zealand Hurricane pilot. But on that occasion they appeared in enemy skies in France, over the mouth of the river Somme.

The name of the pilot was Flight Sergeant B. C. Lumsden, who finished the war as a Flight-Lieutenant, and who is now secretary of the New Zealand Timber Merchants's Federation. At the time of the encounter he was a member of No 8 Squadron, Royal Air Force, and was flying a coal-black Hurricane fighter with long-range tanks on an intruder mission.

From his note on the incident, which can be read in his log book, was made an intelligence report which was circulated throughout the Allied forces. It was the first mention of these strange visitors, which were christened by R.A.F. intelligence officers as "Lumsden's lights."

At 7000ft

Here is part of that summary:

"December 9, 1942 -- climbed to 7000ft while flying along French coast until he found himself at mouth of the Somme. Deciding to get a little further south before setting course, so as to miss Abbeville, he turned sharply right.

"Just as he straightened up on a southerly course he saw to the east two dim amber or orange-coloured lights climbing steadily almost side by side, but one slightly above the other.

"Thinking at first that these were tracer flak, he was at once struck by the slowness with which they climbed. He turned a full circle to starboard, and again saw the lights to the north-east, behind him on his left, but rather larger and brighter. They were now on a level with him at 7000ft, an no longer climbing.

Kept Behind

"He turned sharply to port and made a complete orbit - and found that the lights were keeping behind him on the turn. He jettisoned his long range tanks to obtain more manoeuvrability and turned tightly to port, only to find that the lights still stayed behind.

"He then did diving turns out to sea and flattened out at 4000ft, heading north-north-east. The lights followed his general direction, always astern, and descended to about 1000ft below him, soon climbing again when he remained on a level course.

"The Hurricane continued to fly on a course of 320deg at an indicated speed of 260 m.p.h. and gradually drew away from the lights, which appeared to continue to follow. When about five to ten minutes from the English coast, which he recrossed at Hastings, he lost sight of them.

"The lights had been visible altogether for 15 min. They appeared to remain at an even distance from one another, except for on brief period when they drew closer together. They varied slightly in relative height from time to time, but the starboard one was always slightly lower than the other. Had they been wingtip lights, the aircraft carrying them would have been flying starboard winf down to an unusual and almost impossible degree."

When asked what were the first reactions of those who heard his story, Mr Lumsden grinned. "The usual - the sort of reactions they give to people who say they spotted a flying saucer," he said. "The implication is - 'give up drinking, old man, it isn't doing you any good'."

Many Sequels

But there was a sequel, the first of many.

A dour and doubting character on the same squadron took off next night to cover the same area, determined to lay "Lumsden's Lights". He returned shaken and thoughtful.

His report was promptly dubbed "Lumsden's Lights Mk II." His story was that he had been followed closely by a green light, which kept squarely behind him no matter what he did. Finally, in cloud, he managed to get away from it. He spent no further time in searching.

"That is why the experience of Captain W. T. Rainbow, First Officer S. G. Trouce, and others aboard the N.A.C. aeroplane sounds so familiar to me - and somehow so reassuring," said Mr. Lumsden.

"According to this week's report, the New Zealand light was well-behaved. The French ones, on the other hand, seemed to be piloted by mischievous types and darned good fliers. Anything that could dive, turn, and keep station with a Hurricane in those days certainly knew its way about the air."

There was no war-time explanation of the mysterious lights, and there has not been a complete feasible one since.

Reputation

According to some authorities, that part of France and the Channel gained quite a reputation for such visitations.

But the lights seemed to have emigrated to New Zealand now - or rather to have extended their influence all round the world. Experiences similar to that of last Monday night have been reported from Europe, America, and Australia.

WARTIME EXPERIENCE

A wartime experience, similar to that of the NAC crew was described today by Mr. B. C. Lumsden, of Lower Hutt, who was flying a Hurricane on intruder operations over France in December, 1942, when he sighted two lights which followed him for about 15 minutes.

Mr. Lumsden took off from England at 7 o'clock at night and landed about an hour and a half later. He flew to the French coast and pinpointed himself over the mouth of the Somme.

He was flying at 7000 feet when he saw two dim amber or orange coloured lights climbing steadily side by side, with one slightly above the other. At first he thought it was tracer flak, but stopped thinking that because of the slowness with which the lights climbed. He did a full turn and still saw the lights astern and to port but larger and brighter than before.

The lights were then level with him at 7000ft and no longer climbing, Mr. Lumsden recalled. He again made a complete turn and found the lights were staying behind him, on the turn.

He jettisoned his long-range tanks and did diving turns out-to sea. He flattened out at about 4000 feet and the lights followed his general direction, always astern. Following his change of height they descended to about 1000 feet below him but were soon climbing again when he stayed on a level course. At an indicated speed of 260 m.p.h, he gradually drew away from the lights.

Mr. Lumsden said the two lights seemed to maintain an even distance from each other, and varied only slightly in relative height from time to time. One was always slightly lower than the other.

At one stage he thought they might be wing-tip lights of another aircraft, but had they been so the other aircraft would have been flying right-wing down at the impossible angle of 20 to 30 degrees. He experienced no flak or searchlights on the flight.

"I found it hard to make other members of the squadron believe me when I told my story," said Mr. Lumsden, "but the following night one of the squadron flight commanders, in the same area, had a similar experience with a green light."

Royal Air Force pilot B.C. Lumsden observed two classic foos while flying a Hurricane interceptor over France in December 1942.

Lumsden had taken off from England at seven p.m., heading for the French coast, using the Somme River as a navigation point. An hour later, while cruising at 7,000 feet over the mouth of the Somme, he discovered that he had company: two steadily climbing orange-colored lights, with one slightly above the other. He thought it might be tracer flak but discarded the idea when he saw how slowly the objects were moving. He did a full turn and saw the lights astern and to port but now they were larger and brighter.

At 7,000 feet they stopped climbing and stayed level with Lumsden's Hurricane. The frightened pilot executed a full turn again, only to discover that the objects had hung behind him on the turn.

Lumsden had no idea what he was seeing. All he knew was that he didn't like it. He nose-dived down to 4,000 feet and the lights followed his every maneuver, keeping their same relative position. Finally they descended about 1,000 feet below him until he levelled out, at which point they climbed again and resumed pursuit. The two lights seemed to maintain an even distance from each other and varied only slightly in relative height from time to time. One always remained a bit lower than the other.

At last, as Lumsden's speed reached 260 miles per hour, he was gradually able to outdistance the foos.

"I found it hard to make other members of the squadron believe me when I told my story,” Lumsden said, “but the following night one of the squadron flight commanders in the same area had a similar experience with a green light."