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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