165- Conquerors Isle -Harry Bartell

Escape! Escape! Designed to free you from the four walls of today for a half hour of high adventure! And alone over the empty wastes of the Pacific, while the fury of the typhoon is tearing your plain two pieces, And on a desolate island ahead of you awaits the strangest adventure in the knowledge of man.

Listen now as the escape brings you Nelson Bond's famous story, Conker's Isle. I know it sounds impossible, it sounds crazy, but you've got to believe it. That's why I'm here. It's the truth and you've got to believe it, you've got to, sir.

As the way he started, almost as soon as I'd walked into his hospital room, he wasn't violent, you understand? There was no need for restraint. But as every action, every gesture was evidence of a psychotic condition, the extremely charitable battle fatigue.

It was a not case, I was already well acquainted, of course, with a history. Graduate of Annapolis, lieutenant of the Fleet Air Arm, excellent record, citations for bravery and so forth. Throughout the end of the war, he and his bomber crew disappeared over the South China Sea.

Search failed to turn them up. They were, of course, presumed to be lost. Then a month ago, almost seven years later, the tenant Brady was found by a Brazilian freighter, along drifting and nearly dead in a tiny life raft.

Curiously enough, his position was not far from that last reported by his radio operator seven years earlier. And when he was asked where he had been, he gave a story so fantastic, so completely unbelievable.

It's the truth and you've got to believe it, you've got to. At ease, Lieutenant. I'm sorry, sir. I'm here to consult with you as a physician, not ordering you anything. Suppose we forget the braid while you tell me about it.