Free for All to Freedom Late afternoon on Friday, July 13, 1956 a
twin engine DC-3 from the People's Republic of Hungary made an
unscheduled landing, some 250 miles off its original course, at a
NATO air force base still under construction. For those who lived
behind the Iron Curtain, these were the darkest days of history,
with no way to escape and no hope for the future. But on this day,
seven Hungarian youngsters would dramatically risk everything in
order to taste something that others took for granted: freedom. And
they would do it at 10,000 feet. They would hijack a commercial
airliner and fly to freedom. Free for All to Freedom is their
story. Read Free for All to Freedom and feel in vivid detail what
conditions were like living under tyranny and oppression, and
re-live their incredible and dramatic escape to freedom. HOW DID IT
HAPPEN? Where was I, what did I do or not do to let it get this
far? Who was responsible for this firestorm? Who started it? The
more I'd been thinking - and I had a lot of time for that - the
clearer the answer became: It was me. ME It would have been easy to
say, "I did not see it coming," but I should have. It was my
country. It was my decision - or the lack thereof - to let the
barbarians rise to power. The prisons were built; first for the
minds and then for the bodies. The insidious disease, Communism,
was marching and I was marching along. I believed in false promises
and ignored history. Tyranny does not start with the gulags and gas
chambers, it ends with them. I remained silent and hoped that this
time it was going to be different. I did not yell "FIRE " when I
should have. Now it was too late; the fire was raging, the fire
hydrants were dry, and all the firemen were dead. Excerpted from
Free for All to Freedom CHAPTER XV The Cockpit of Flight 387 at
10,000 Feet over Hungary Friday, July 13, 1956 at 1455 Hour THE
BASTARD WAS IN THE COCKPIT all along thought George, as he faced
the fifth man and stared into the barrel of Elek Doktor's Walther
PPK. The AVO agent was waiting for George fully prepared, while
trying to steady himself on the bouncing plane, with his gun in
hand. George aimed the Zbrojovka with two bullets, one in the
chamber and one in the magazine, slightly above the head of the AVO
man and pulled the trigger. There was a small click. Ten-year old
bullets just don't work that well, he thought, as he smashed the
useless gun onto the forehead of Elek Doktor with full force. The
plane rolled into another nose-dive throwing the already dazed AVO
agent straight up to the ceiling with his feet off the floor
dangling in the air. He was hanging on to some protruding gadgets
from the cockpit's roof with his left hand, holding his gun in his
right. Then for an infinitely small time, his memory deserted him.
He could not remember whether he loaded his Walther PPK or not.
When the plane went into a sharp climb he got slammed to the floor
and had a chance to act. His years of training took over: when in
doubt, reload. Elek Doktor, pulled the top of his gun back released
it again, aimed at George's chest and pulled the trigger.
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