Pilots Who Slipped Through Time

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There is a wartime aphorism that goes something like:

there are no no atheists in foxholes.

It is believed this expression originated during the gruesome trench warfare of World War I.

The underlying presumption is that when a person is faced with imminent and almost certain death, there is one question that is undoubtedly catapulted to the forefront of their mind.

What happens after I die?

Certainly, of all the unsolved mysteries, this must be among the greatest known to man.

A yearning question that, depending on who you ask, can yield a variety of different answers and provoke heated debate.

Most ironically, our passionate disagreements about death have repeatedly resulted in our determined efforts to send one another to an early grave.

Religious conflicts are as prevalent in war history as are political, social, or economic conflicts.

Beyond this animalistic proclivity for bloodshed, however, among the billions of people who peacefully practice a variety of differing religions, at least one unifying concept of their faith centers on the existence of an eternal soul.

While our physical bodies may wither away and die, the spiritual body goes on, transcending the physical world into a different plane of existence, an afterlife.

For many others, however, aside from the idea of entering into complete non-existence, the reality of what awaits us in death isn't as as clear-cut.

What if, some believe, the end of one life was merely the beginning of another?

Reincarnation, the endless journey of a single human soul as it cycles from its current life to the next.

Whether religious or not, it is an intriguing perspective, one that has drawn the attention of both scholars and critics alike.

Because while this idea may be outlandish to many, it is undeniable that there exist stories that would lend a shred of credence to this belief.

Stories which will baffle the most level-headed skeptics.

Accounts from individuals who for some inexplicable reason appear to possess vivid memories of lives they've never lived, people they've never met, and even battlefields they've never set foot on.

Yes, some among these people believe they were once soldiers in a past life.

Why?

Because they can remember it.

These are only a few of their stories.

Stories about the reincarnation of pilots.

I'm Luke Lamana,

and this is Wartime Stories.

James open the door

James

wake up buddy

Come on, wake up

James

James

Wake up, bud.

There you are.

Were you having another dream?

Yes.

What were you dreaming about?

Hapa, a pa, papa.

Yeah?

Hey, crash.

Fire.

OC.

A plane crash?

Hey, crash, water.

Papa.

Plane crashed?

Into the water?

Hey, crash, water.

That's okay, buddy.

Papa's here, okay?

Hey, crap.

There's no plane.

Papa's here.

It's just Papa.

You're okay.

Born on April 10th, 1998, James Leininger, then a little boy just over the age of two, was beset by a series of terrifying dreams.

On almost a nightly basis, the child's parents, Bruce and Andrea Leininger, would find themselves rushing to his bedside, discovering him thrashing about in his sleep, then finding it difficult to wake their son from what was clearly a visceral night terror.

In the midst of these episodes, being only a toddler, it shocked them to hear James screaming out harrowing details that depicted what he was seeing in his subconscious mind.

Airplane crack!

Plane on fire!

Little man can't get out!

The image of a man trapped in a burning aircraft, unable to escape the flames.

And when asked by Andrea who the little man in the plane was, James replied, Me.

According to his parents, the oddities surrounding James began just before his second birthday during a visit to the James Kavanaugh Flight Museum in Dallas, Texas.

James was enamored by the many examples of World War II-era combat aircraft, being drawn specifically to the iconic gull-winged F-4U Corsair fighter plane.

So strong was his reaction to the historic vehicles that the parents found themselves spending the entire day at the museum, having to quite literally drag their son out of the building by day's end.

It wasn't long after the museum visit that James' mother would have a peculiar interaction with her toddler.

One day, as they passed by a toy shop displaying a bin of plastic airplanes and boats, Andrea would point out an airplane that appeared to have a bomb fixed to its undercarriage.

James, not even two years of age and barely able to read, responded to his mother in a very matter-of-fact tone.

That wasn't a bomb, he said.

It was a drop tank.

His mother, unfamiliar with the term, was shocked to learn that her toddler had correctly identified the external fuel tank commonly found on many World War II aircraft.

It was shortly afterward, following his birthday, that the terrifying nightmares would begin.

Much to the concern and mounting confusion of his parents, elements of James' nightmares seemed to be influencing his everyday conduct.

More often than not, James would be found sitting at the table, drawing various pictures.

The scenes they depicted, while naturally childlike and crude, were undeniably grim.

The pictures appeared to depict naval and air battles, the skies filled with fire and flack as propeller-driven aircraft plunged towards the sea in flames.

When he was asked details about his drawings, young James would explain that they were depictions of battle between American and Japanese aircraft in the Pacific skies of World War II.

This left his parents baffled.

Their son had no access to media regarding World War II and was barely able to read.

How could he be aware of such events?

Despite this, the child was able to accurately describe both Japanese and American aircraft types within his drawings.

James also displayed a familiarity with the more obscure nicknames American aviators assigned to various Japanese aircraft, assigning female names like Betty, Jill, and Kate to bombers, and male names like Zeke, Oscar, and Tony for fighters.

Curiously, James would always sign his drawings as James III.

When asked by his parents what that meant, he would cryptically state that he was the third James.

Determined to uncover the truth behind James' unexplainable behaviors, Bruce and Andrea would sit down with their son, asking him questions about his dreams and his suddenly acquired knowledge.

It was during these discussions that James revealed unnervingly accurate details of a life he'd never experienced.

According to the young boy, he himself was the doomed pilot in his dreams, plunging to the ocean in flames after being shot down by the Japanese.

The way his mother put it, one day while playing, James nonchalantly stated,

Mama, before I was born, I was a pilot and my airplane got shot in the engine and crashed in the water and that's how I died.

In this other existence, James bore the same first name and told his parents that on the day he was shot down, he had taken off from a ship called Natoma near a small island.

The boy was also adamant that he had flown the F-4U Corsair fighter plane and had a good friend on the ship, another pilot, by the name of Jack Larson.

All of this left James' father, Bruce, particularly unsettled.

As a Christian, he didn't quite know what to make of his son's inexplicable memories and all of the questions it brought to mind about the possibility of reincarnation.

Gathering up all of the details conveyed by his son about his former life as a World War II pilot, Bruce began to research with hopes of writing off James' story as the byproduct of an extremely active imagination.

What he uncovered, however, did just the opposite.

The ship James identified simply as Natoma corresponded to that of the USS Natoma Bay, a Casablanca-class escort carrier that served in many campaigns throughout the Pacific theater.

On its roster of pilots, a Jack Larson was indeed sighted, the young aviator going on to survive the war.

Further down that list, however, another name jumped out at Bruce, sending a cold shiver down his spine.

Listed as being 21 years of age at the time of his death, was

James Huston Jr.

The naval aviator was indeed shot down on March 3, 1945, near Chichijima, flying operations in support of the American landings on the small Japanese island of Iwo Jima.

The only detail that didn't seem to line up to his son's testimony was that James Huston Jr.

was listed as piloting an FM2 wildcat fighter at the time of his death, not a corsair.

Despite this, Bruce, recalling young James dubbing himself the third James, was finding it harder and harder to shake the unbelievable thought that his own son, James Leininger, could be the reincarnated soul of James Huston Jr.

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Oh, sweetie, you...

you have me perplexed.

You sure do seem to know a lot about our family.

Even calling me Annie.

I haven't had anybody call me Annie since...

Oh, since James died.

Hey, Annie.

What's that, sugar?

You remember how Papa used to drink a lot?

I do.

You remember that?

Yes, yes, he sure did.

Well,

what they send him when he drank too much?

Oh, oh, you mean the rehabilitation clinic for alcoholics?

The drinking hospital?

Oh, yeah.

I would have to miss him when he had to go to the drinking hospital.

Oh, my goodness.

Yes, sugar.

I miss Papa, too.

After verifying the identity of James' supposed past self, the Leiningers immediately went about tracking down Huston's family members, as well as surviving veterans of the Natoma Bay.

After much digging, a phone call was arranged between young James, now five, and Hustin's older sister, Anne Barron.

Quite bizarrely, during the course of their lengthy discussion, the older woman became convinced that she was indeed talking with the reborn soul of her long-lost baby brother.

Without prompting, James addressed this woman, Anne, whom he had never spoken with before, as Annie, a nickname that only Hustin had used when speaking with his older sister.

Her questions delving even deeper into what he remembered, young James would recall intimate details of the Huston family household, his childish phrasing no less making it clear that he even remembered the rampant alcoholism suffered by their father.

and his frequent trips in and out of rehab.

What swept away any lingering doubt for Anne was James recalling the time their mother gifted them with painted portraits of themselves, done by an artist he correctly named as Darley.

While information about Hustin's service during World War II could feasibly be sourced, how on earth would a five-year-old child be privy to such personal family knowledge?

In the aftermath of their talk, Anne would mail the rest of her brother's belongings to the Leiningers, along with a treasure trove of wartime photographs.

Included in these was a picture of a smiling James Huston Jr., fully clad in his flight gear, standing next to an iconic Corsair fighter plane.

The following year, James, now at the age of six, would attend a naval reunion of Natoma Bay pilots, once again brushing shoulders with men that he, even though a child, ostensibly considered to be his old Navy pals.

Without being formally introduced, James was immediately able to identify a former pilot by the name of Bob Greenwalt just by hearing his voice.

When asked what provoked such an instant reaction to hearing Bob speak, James, once again, correctly stated that the man had been his wingman.

during his past life in the war.

While speaking with other veterans, the young boy, much to their shock, was able to correctly list technical specifications of the Natoma Bay and recall interactions with some of the other crewmen present.

During their discussions with some of the pilots, James' parents offhandedly mentioned that their son had dubbed three of his beloved G.I.

Joe action figures Billy, Walter, and Leon.

At this, the faces of the hardened combat pilots suddenly darkened.

During Hustin's time at war, they said, he had grown close to three fellow aviators, Billy Peeler, Walter Devlin, and Leon Connor.

Like James Hustin, all of these men had been killed in action.

When asked why he called his action figures by these names, James is reported to have innocently said that those were the names of the men who first greeted him when he got to heaven.

Over the years, James Leininger's remarkable story would garner significant media attention, his parents even going on to publish a book entitled, Soul Survivor, about their son's incredible experience.

Catching wind of the story in 2009, a Japanese production company offered the family a chance to visit the spot where James Huston Jr.

met his end so many years ago.

James, then almost a teenager, was only periodically tormented by the vivid and terrifying dreams from his childhood and was eager to make the trip.

Sailing to a spot not far off the island of Chichijima, the approximate location where Hustin's plane would have disappeared, James Leininger cast a bouquet of flowers into the blue waters of the Pacific, bidding a final, emotional farewell to the man he once was.

The experience in visiting the location, he would later state, proved emotionally cathartic, as if a massive weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

Wherever Hustin was now, it felt to James that his soul, having spent all these years crying out across the vastness of time, was finally at peace.

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Okay, class, okay, children, children, let's quiet down.

It's quiet time now.

Master Square.

It's a long time.

Jasmine.

Jasmine, I'm gonna need you

Jasmine.

Hello, Jasmine.

I'm gonna need you to put your coloring away.

Jasmine.

The story of James Leininger's supposed reincarnation is one of the most popular and widely discussed incidents of spiritual rebirth in the Western world.

However, one will find that there are thousands of stories that report children eerily calling upon accurate and verifiable memories of a parent past lives.

Another such story, not too different from that of James Leininger, comes in the form of a young girl named Jasmine.

In October 2007, Jasmine's nursery school teacher, going by the username Angel Cat, began writing a series of posts in an online forum which documented instances of reincarnation.

According to the teacher, Jasmine, then three years of age, was able to eerily recall memories and experiences that appeared to align with those of a World War I fighter pilot.

While other children in her class were learning the alphabet and singing nursery rhymes, Jasmine was describing Great War-era flight gear.

and, to the shock of her teachers, flawlessly singing the popular British marching song, It's a Long Way to Tipperary.

Jasmine's teacher could offer no explanation for the young girl's knowledge of World War I-era pilots and military songs.

The three-year-old was notably a bright child and had proven to be a fast learner in school.

But where could she have been exposed to such information?

It certainly wasn't a part of the nursery school curriculum.

While Jasmine loved to play with dolls and partake in other such activities appropriate for girls her age, she would also spend her time drawing various pictures.

One, which she proudly showed her teacher, depicted a crudely drawn biplane, the young girl referring to it simply as Camel.

Upon further research, Jasmine's teacher was stunned to find that the three-year-old's crayon drawing depicted a Sopwith Camel.

a British fighter aircraft made famous in the skies of the Great War.

When shown a historical image of the iconic fighter, Jasmine was reported to have become giddy with excitement before suddenly becoming very sullen.

Noticing her change in demeanor, her teacher asked what was wrong.

Jasmine then lamented that her Sopwith camel was broken in the trees.

Among her many other drawings were depictions of German airships and burning buildings turned to rubble after, as she put it, the sky fell on them.

One day, Jasmine's teacher said she handed her an envelope upon which the child had doodled a small yet very intriguing image.

In blazing red, black crosses on its wings, was the unmistakable outline of a German triplane fighter, infamously flown by some of the war's most feared aces.

Next to the picture, Jasmine had scribbled an ominous message.

Bad,

bad, bad.

An RFC plane wrecked in the trees, its pilot hanging limply out of the open cockpit.

As with James Leininger, Jasmine's strange statements give all the appearances of being those of a fire pilot who met his end following an aerial battle.

From October 2007 to December 2009, her teacher would regularly document Jasmine's memories on the blog.

eventually piecing her memories together and zeroing in on the identity of the girl's past life.

While she's chosen to withhold the pilot's name in order to preserve the privacy of his remaining family, through research she uncovered an account of an Irish fighter pilot who, behind the controls of his Sopwith Kimel, seems like a promising candidate.

He was killed during a dogfight against the German Luftstreichkrefte, his plane coming down in a patch of dense woodland.

To this day, the forum remains untouched.

Jasmine's transcribed memories, one more testament to a man whose earthly body met a sudden, violent end, but whose spirit, or at least whose memories, apparently kept on living.

When delving into the many documented stories of apparent reincarnation, there is one consistent factor prominent in most cases.

While memories and visions of one's past life appear with sudden intensity in the early years of childhood, they mostly fade away with the passing of time, becoming almost non-existent by early adulthood.

This was very much the case with James Leininger and young Jasmine.

However, there are exceptions to this rule.

As in the case of this next story, traumatic aftershocks suffered in a previous life can echo well into one's adulthood.

The story submitted to the popular Tales from the Grid Square project begins, like so many of these reports tend to, with a series of dreams.

All right, boys, here they come.

Call them out.

Got 5, 109 coming down.

2 o'clock high.

Left wave, he'll be coming right over to you.

Be ready.

I'm on him.

I'm on him.

This story, told by a man whose father was afflicted by visions of a past life, describes how his dad had in recent years experienced a number of vivid dreams set in the skies over Nazi Germany.

Without knowing their names, for the sake of clarity, we will refer to the father as John and the son as John Jr.

While John wasn't able to recall the specifics of the first dream, he awoke with the phrase, bombs over Bremen, burned into his memory.

The second dream was where the mission over Germany became far more harrowing.

Posted on the left waist gun of a B-17 bomber, John recalled, in stark detail, witnessing a chaotic air battle, German fighters tearing into a mass formation of American bombers.

Over the thunder of machine guns and roaring engines, he could hear the shouts of his crewmen over the radio as bombers tumbled from the sky in flames.

So vivid and real was the dream that the man could even feel the violent shaking of the aircraft around him as it absorbed the bullets of the marauding German aircraft.

A massive explosion rocked the bomber, piping hot shrapnel tearing into his legs.

Even in the dream, the searing pain was unbearably intense.

Turning to check on the status of the right-waist gunner just behind him, John now saw nothing but a gaping hole in the plane's fuselage, the entire position having been blown away, along with its gunner.

At that point, the second dream ended.

Pilot to bombardier, your ship.

Take us in.

Roger that.

Bombardier to pilot.

My ship.

Bombardier to crew.

Bombay doors open.

Steady as she goes, Pete.

Target in sight.

Almost.

Bombs away.

Closing bay doors.

Ship is yours, skipper.

Solid work, boys.

Let's get this crate home to him.

Shit, we're hit.

Number three engines awash.

I hear you.

Right.

Everyone out.

I'll hold us steady.

That means you too, Al.

You'll be right behind us.

In John's third dream, the bomber was on its final approach to the city of Bremen, dropping its payload on the industrial target.

Following their drop, the aircraft was hit by a torrential hail of anti-aircraft fire, the sky around them suddenly turning dark from countless bursts of flak.

It was in the midst of this terrifying barrage that John's final dream would abruptly end.

The vivid nature and striking realism of these dreams experienced by John was perplexing to him.

According to his son, who recounted this story, John had little to no interest in military aviation or World War II history in general.

That being the case, they both both wondered, how on earth was he able to accurately visualize such a precise depiction of air combat, even providing correct descriptions of things he had never seen, such as the interior layout of a B-17 bomber.

Further still, despite having no knowledge of military aircraft before this sequence of dreams, how was he able to specifically identify the one in the dream as being a B-17F variant, a model of the bomber commonly commonly flown in the early war period.

The entire ordeal ultimately prompted John to look back on the days of his early childhood, reanalyzing certain events that, when now placed in the context of these dreams, took on an entirely new and chilling meaning.

When John was about six years of age, he recalled drawing pictures of a place he referred to as Northumberland.

For the longest time, he thought he had simply made the place up.

However, Northumberland is indeed a real location in the north of England.

It was also home to several Allied airfields during the Second World War.

Much to his surprise, John realized that his childhood drawings prominently featured what could only be described as control towers sprouting up from the crudely drawn countryside.

Even more bizarrely, their locations depicted in the childish drawings aligned with historical photographs of the many air bases dotting the region.

Considering he had never been to England, John couldn't help but wonder: is it possible that he had retained these memories from a past life, the life of an American airman that ended abruptly in the skies over Bremen?

Among the many units based in the area during the wartime years was none other than the 100th Bomb Group of the United States Army Air Forces.

The unit was more infamously known amongst the airmen as the Bloody 100th due to the unit's atrocious casualty rates.

As the father and son dug deeper into the history of this unit, they found even more stark similarities connecting his dreams to real-life events.

On October 8th, 1943, the Bloody 100th was dispatched to bomb the key industrial city of Bremen, located deep in the heart of Nazi Germany.

Among the 399 bombers mustered by the 8th Air Force was an F-Model B-17 dubbed Piccadilly Lilly.

The story of this bomber, one of many to be lost during the ill-fated raid over Bremen, appeared to match the sequence of events experienced in John's dreams.

While there was no way to verify what happened to the right waist gunner, the aircraft was shot down by enemy fire just after dropping its bomb load over the city, as John experienced in his final dream.

According to eyewitnesses, including the crew members who survived, as the formation was hit by intense anti-aircraft fire, the Piccadilly Lily burst into flames after receiving a direct hit to its No.

3 engine.

She then suddenly exploded in mid-air.

Of the 11-man crew, six would be killed, the rest parachuting to safety, but ultimately being captured and imprisoned for the duration of the war.

Listed among the dead were Staff Sergeants Elder Dickerson and Gerald Robinson, the left and right waist gunners on the stricken bomber.

Reading these names, John said he began to reflect on the days of his childhood, particularly the moments when he first met his lifelong best friend.

Though the two boys were only six years old at the time, he recalled having an inexplicable feeling, as if it was not the first time they had met.

Considering their immediate bonding, which has lasted even until now, contemplating the possibility of reincarnation, John told his son he couldn't help but wonder if his best friend, in this life, was also with him, his former self, on that fateful day over Nazi Germany, an entire lifetime ago.

According to his son, John similarly met someone else he had a feeling he might have known, only this time much more recently as a grown man.

He couldn't explain it, but after engrossing himself in the eerily familiar history of the Piccadilly Lily and its lost crew, the other man now gave him the distinct impression of being the reborn soul of the air crew's tailgunner, Staff Sergeant Aaron David.

In relaying his story, perhaps like many such strange and unexplained experiences that go unspoken for fear of judgment, John's son did not indicate whether John ever shared his dreams or thoughts about reincarnation with his two good friends.

In any case, the true understanding of such experiences remains to be seen.

But if there was a supernatural bond of brotherhood and friendship that outlasted death, don't you think it would be the kind of bond that is forged between men such as these?

Men who lived, fought, shed their blood, and died together in combat?

If one were to research these stories, as with all seemingly fantastic tales, they would inevitably find the commentaries and reports offered by individuals who have taken up the torch as investigators, aiming to debunk what they view as preposterous claims.

With stories of reincarnation, especially in small children, the leading theory for skeptics is that, rather than being true memories from past lives, the dreams and recollections these individuals have had were brought on by films they watched or visits to museums.

More concerningly, there is the insistence that such cases are manufactured out of whole cloth.

Fraudulent stories drummed up by overeager parents capitalizing on their child's overactive imagination and their willingness to go along with their scheme.

Or otherwise the individuals themselves are suspected of pulling one over on us to gain a few minutes in the limelight.

To be fair, perhaps some, if not many, of these are not authentic memories.

The human mind is neither simple nor infallible.

Terms like false memories and confabulation are found in many medical journals.

It would be no surprise to find that many of us have memories that, for a time, we thought to be true events from our own life, only to later realize that it was merely a dream we had that eventually blended with reality.

But are we lying to anyone when our minds have us believe these things truly happened?

As we reflect on these stories, along with the fact that there are many thousands more like them, if there is any truth behind the concept of reincarnation, or at least, what would otherwise explain the transference of past memories from one person to another?

Time is something we don't fully understand.

Our imaginations have long dreamed about the possibility of traveling across it.

perhaps for the very purpose of going back and meeting someone who is now gone.

And then there's death, which looms largely over all battlefields.

It no less remains an ever-present mystery.

But consider for a moment what you might do if you found yourself in a similar situation.

What if one day you wake up and suddenly realize

it was all a dream?

Wartime Stories is created and hosted by me, Luke Lamana.

Executive produced by Mr.

Bollin, Nick Witters, and Zach Levitt.

Written by Jake Howard and myself.

Audio editing and sound design by me, Cole Acasio, and Whitlaca.

Additional editing by Davin Intag and Jordan Stiddum.

Research by me, Jake Howard, Evan Beamer, and Camille Callahan.

Mixed and mastered by Brendan Kane.

Production supervision by Jeremy Bone.

Production coordination by Avery Siegel.

Additional production support by Brooklyn Gooden.

Artwork by Jessica Clogson-Kiner, Robin Vane, and Picada.

If you'd like to get in touch or share your own story, you can email me at info at wartime stories.com.

Thank you so much for listening to Wartime Stories.

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