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31all over the country after being informed that I was the only person who had engineered such a mill in this country. The Baron wanted me to visi t his land of Estonia, which together with Latvia and Lithuania, made up a population of 17 million, and build a shale oil mill, in fact many of them. His country had developed oil fields with fine shale beds, and oil was needed. I was afraid of the rising tide of communism, which was beginning to wash against their borders on the east; but he assured me there was no real danger. I finally consented to go after he made his offer more financially substantial. He had their Reichstag elect me Premier of the little country, with full power to rejuvenate the commerce. On the strength of this move, they borrowed 30 million dollars in New York, bought a old steamer of large capacity, and loaded it with old cars, discarded radios, and so on, to be made over in their land by mechanics who at that time were out of work and starving. Shortly afterward, however, and before I could get my affairs in shape here, secret service men of a certain people came to me with the information that the entire end of Europe would soon be conquered by the Bolsheviks, and that persons such as myself would be hastily liquidated. The information was so definite, that I backed out, much to the Baron’s dismay. He departed for his country at once. They carried out the plans as we had made them, or tried to; but all was brought to a end by the disaster I feared would happen. The Baron saw his beautiful wife cut to pieces and his two children dashed ag ainst the wall of a stone cellar, as he hid under some driftwood, wounded and helpless. The Baron was finally smuggled out of the basement and out of the country. He finally returned to the United States. He had dabbled in photography and continued that interest here, eventually making a profession of it. He finally became a top man in the field. Our paths finally crossed once again. I learned to love the personality of the frail man. Already a scientist, he had to do constructive work, so he became a scientific photographer, and his work grew to be so well recognized that he was repeatedly called upon for difficult work along this line. I was a little surprised one day in November of 1949 when his voice came over the telephone, asking me to meet him in the coffee room of a downtown hotel. He said, “I have a matter I must discuss with you. Get there at once; it will take about an hour to tell you.” It took not a hour, but several, before I left the meeting, my head was spinning. Here is his story as he told it to me, without many details, since these would require a whole book. “Last week, two secret service men came to my home. They told me they had a photographic job to be done, to please go with them. We went by plane and landed inside the vast Los Alamos Field, where I was met by the superintendent of that part of the field. We walked to the fringe of a crowd of several hundred men who were milling around a large flat object lying on the ground. When a lane was opened, I was led through the crowd and found myself viewing, what one might term a Flying Saucer. There it was, surrounded by an estimated 1000 men, technicians and experts of all kinds, the best that the government can hire. To say that I was astonished would be putting it mildly. They gave me the finest equipment I had ever handled and told me to photograph the thing. For two days I crawled all over it, on top, unde rside, photographing it, both close up and from a distance–literally within inches of special pieces of equipment. In particular, they wished my