Xu Lei - Search for the Buried Bomber

The extreme importance attached to this area by the Japanese and the total lack of any discovery by our troops confounded us, but our leaders had faith in the accuracy of the Japanese data and knew that oil reserves are often found deep underground. They commissioned the use of seismic exploration equipment obtained from the Soviet Union. Seismic prospecting was fairly advanced for the time. Basically you fire a seismic wave from the surface into the ground. If it encounters rock layers with different physical qualities, the wave will be reflected and refracted. This reaction is then identified by a wave-detecting device located on the surface or in a well. By recording and analyzing these seismic waves, the quality and form of underground rock layers can be inferred. Detailed seismic exploration of the layers of stratification, together with precise prospecting work, is superior to all other methods of geophysical investigation. The depth of seismic exploration can range from dozens to tens of thousands of feet underground.

China began importing this kind of equipment in 1951, and by the time of the 723 Project it had already been successfully operated in a number of real-world trials. Such equipment was generally used in the exploration of very deep mineral beds, and the technology had developed to the point where the feedback data could be presented three-dimensionally. This was a pretty damn spectacular development, but to the average person the data was just a terribly confusing mass of jumbled lines and shapes. Even ground-level tech specialists in the military like us have trouble with such abstract data. Through the use of geological-dataimaging equipment, however, this jumbled mess can be converted into a fairly comprehensible black-and-white filmstrip.

The seismic exploration work continued for about five months, and when the contents of the find were revealed, it was enough to leave people speechless. According to the data, an abnormal seismic reflection had been recorded thirty-six hundred feet below the surface of the region. On the filmstrip, this reflection appeared as an extremely prominent, irregular white shadow. It was shaped like a cross and shocking in its precision and exactitude: 147 feet long and 102 feet wide, it seemed to be a great piece of metal embedded in the shell rock thirty-six hundred feet underground. Seeing this image projected onto the curtain, we all began to talk excitedly. It just seemed too inconceivable to be real, but when the technical personnel enlarged the shot the whole tent went silent. The geometrical contours of its exterior were clearly visible and all of us immediately recognized it: a plane! Somehow, embedded in the shell rock thirty-six hundred feet below the surface, our team had discovered a bomber!

At this point, a lot of you probably think this is all nonsense. I mean, really, this was just strange beyond measure. We’d received thoroughly practical educations, and materialism was the dominant philosophy of the time. Anything extraordinary had to be explained on the basis of what we could see and touch, no matter how forced and far-fetched the explanations sometimes became. This seemed unexplainable. My first reaction was to call it bullshit. It just wasn’t plausible. But when you know something is true, when it’s staring you in the face, all that remains is explaining how it happened.

The Zero Film ended here. I was in shock and barely noticed the movie was over. Later I learned that there was a lot more that wasn’t shown to us. At the time I was indignant and wanted to know why this content had been kept from us, but when I was older and had been put in charge of my own unit, I finally understood what our leaders had been thinking. Maturity always comes at a price. I realize now that every time I have reached a new level of understanding, it has almost without exception been accompanied by lies and sacrifice. There’s no way of avoiding this.

The colonel asked if we had any questions. Many believed the cross was purely coincidental, that during some natural catastrophe underground iron had coagulated into this shape by chance. But the colonel told us that based on a detailed analysis of the object’s exterior it fit the description of a Shinzan, a highly uncommon Japanese bomber. Used mainly as a troop-transport plane, it was introduced at the end of World War II and there were very few in number. The likelihood that this was all just a coincidence was extremely slim.

Since it wasn’t a coincidence, there had to be some fact-based explanation. For this sort of occurrence, there could be only one explanation: so long as the plane hadn’t traveled through some scifispace-time warp to appear deep underground, then the Japanese must have moved it there. There had to be some sort of passageway for the plane to get to where it was. It was obvious, however, that no tunnel would be large enough to accommodate the thing if it were moved in its entirety. It must have been dismantled and transported piece by piece. In this very spot and through methods unclear, the Japanese either dug or located a tunnel that led deep underground. They then disassembled a Shinzan bomber, transported it down the passageway, and at the tunnel’s end, thirty-six hundred feet below ground, they rebuilt the entire plane. This all seemed pretty crazy, but it was the only rational possibility.

Still, we needed to find evidence to verify the hypothesis. We had to locate the underground tunnel and uncover some trace of the extensive equipment that must have been previously amassed here. The colonel said they’d already found large amounts of antifreeze residue nearby. That seemed to satisfy the second prerequisite. As for the first, the engineering corps was now conducting a wide-ranging search of the area. A group would be organized once the tunnel was located. They would then make their way underground to find out just what was down there. At last, this was the reason we were here.

The meeting ended. The colonel repeated our oath of secrecy and told us we were free to wander about the camp. As soon as he left, the entire tent erupted like a pot boiling over. It wasn’t that we were afraid—when it came to cave exploration, we were all experienced and fear was out of the question. No, we were excited. As I’ve said before, prospecting can be a dull line of work. This opportunity was more than a little enticing.

Later, after returning to our tents, we were still too keyed up to sleep. Only Old Cat went to bed. The rest of us, even though we were exhausted, stayed up all night, soaking in the excitement, discussing the job, and letting off steam. Looking back, though, it seems a little strange that in all our discussions no one ever asked why the Japanese would expend so much effort to move an entire plane deep underground. The Japanese obviously considered the prospecting records regarding this location exceptionally important—locked as they were within a coded steel box. Judging from the remains left at this camp, though, it was clear the Japanese had only engaged in common geological exploration work before they suddenly decided to carry out this seemingly impossible act. What had they found? What made them do it? I suspect this question was on everyone’s mind, but we knew that there was no sense in discussing it. So we chose to let it go.