Script

Picture the bustling streets of New York City in the summer of 1910. The skies remained a wild frontier in those days, and the roar of an airplane engine echoed as a rare, almost supernatural sound. The Wright brothers had achieved their historic flight just seven years earlier, on December 17, 1903. Aviation lingered in its fragile infancy, with rickety biplanes struggling to skim the clouds during daylight hours, let alone challenge the darkness of night. Dusk settled over the city on August 30th, as lights began to flicker on like distant stars. Crowds gathered in Madison Square Park, that green oasis surrounded by towering early 20th-century structures. Suddenly, a peculiar whirring pierced the evening air—a mechanical hum descending from above, drawing every gaze skyward. Eyes fixed on the majestic Metropolitan Tower, its illuminated windows cutting through the gloom like a beacon in fog. Then, from the inky void, a long, black silhouette emerged, carving through the heavens.

As the object drew closer, its shape sharpened into something inexplicable: an aircraft of some sort, sleek and ominous, far surpassing the crude designs of the era. Witnesses, desperate for explanation, labeled it a biplane—the only flying machine they knew. It glided past the tower with unnatural grace, then banked sharply, its edges etched against the glowing windows. Yet the display escalated from there. In a brazen defiance of gravity and sense, it dove into heart-stopping swoops, skimming so low over the park that onlookers held their breath, convinced it would graze the treetops and plunge into the crowd. Would disaster strike?

The New York Tribune captured the shock and wonder the next day, on August 31st: "It was heard before it was seen. The whirring sound of a motor high in the air caused many necks to be craned toward the Metropolitan tower at 8:45 o'clock when a long black object was seen flying through the air toward the tower. The vague bulk, as it came into nearer view, took on the semblance of a biplane. It swung past the tower, then turned and described one graceful circle after another around the illuminated structure, its outlines standing out clear in the lights from the many windows."

As if mocking the city's confusion, the mystery returned the following night—precisely at 9:00 p.m. Over the same park, it repeated its perilous maneuvers. The Tribune's September 1st follow-up delved into every known pilot and aircraft—scarce in that era. Biplanes were too delicate to fly safely here, unfit for Manhattan's vicious updrafts. Night flying represented a deadly risk few would attempt, yet this craft performed it flawlessly.

Eyewitness accounts only amplified the intrigue. Details conflicted wildly: some reported two red lights, others three green ones, glowing with an ethereal hue. Who—or what—commanded this spectral machine? The Tribune, blending frustration with whimsy, suggested the pilot might "drop his name to earth in an otherwise empty bottle" upon return. But no such clue materialized. The phantom vanished, leaving lingering questions and concerns. Was it a daring inventor testing human boundaries? Or a darker omen of unidentified aerial phenomena yet to come? 

Aviation in 1910 teetered on the edge of experimentation: fragile wood-and-fabric biplanes powered by basic engines, capable only of short, low-altitude flights at speeds up to around 68 mph. Night operations remained rare and perilous due to poor visibility and primitive technology. Still, there were some amazing aviation milestones, including the first seaplane takeoff, metal-framed designs, crossings of the Alps, and altitudes over 10,000 feet. Air shows fueled public fascination, shifting perceptions from novelty to practical applications in commerce and warfare—though fatal crashes underscored the dangers.

For this mysterious flying object to sustain flight so long, at night, amid Manhattan skyscrapers—it bordered on the impossible, beyond even the era's elite pilots and machines. While this was never solved, these sightings were a precursor to a global pattern: ghost flier reports scattered across the early 1930s, intensifying in Scandinavia—Sweden, Norway, and Finland.

These craft were extraordinary—witnessed by hundreds, these mysterious objects soared low through brutal winters: blizzards and fog, conditions that would doom conventional flights.

And the eyewitnesses, from civilians to soldiers, described large, aircraft-like forms circling remote areas, projecting powerful searchlights as if probing the terrain, often with no engine noise. No takeoffs or landings were observed; they traced valleys, zigzagged in patterns, then faded away.

In this episode, I’ll be exploring the question: were these just biplanes with astonishing flight characteristics with a death-defying pilot or were they the precursors of UAPs of extraterrestrial origin?  There are many sources about Scandinavian Ghost Flyers—but the most comprehensive is a series written in the summer of 1970 by John A. Keel and published in Flying Saucer Review.

What truly invaded those frozen skies? Let us delve into the chilling enigma of the Scandinavian Ghost Fliers of the 1930s. I am MF Thomas, and this is My Dark Path through the fringes of the unexplained.

Part 1 – Early Reports 

The phenomenon began on Christmas Eve 1933 with a report in the Dagens-Nyheter newspaper from Kalix, Sweden: "A mysterious airplane appeared from the Bottensea at about 6.00 p.m., passed over Kalix, continued westward. Beams of light came from the machine, searching the area." Imagine watching this flying object during a time when electricity was still only powering homes in larger cities—watching these piercing beams turning night into day, casting an unnerving glow over those below.  This first reported sighting gives us a hint for why the Scandinavian Ghost Flier sightings so unnerved the population, military, and government.  The characteristics of the craft were simply bizarre.

After that Christmas Eve event, sightings surged in late December 1933. On the 28th in Langmo, Norway, observers saw a high-altitude craft flying with three bright lights, but the details of the craft were obscured by distance. 

Then, a few days later, on December 31 near Gällivare, Sweden, drivers witnessed a low-flier at just 150 feet over the highway. Authorities admitted their confusion in a newspaper report: "[there were] No known planes were in the area.  [it was] undoubtedly a stranger."

Additional reports just after New Year's sharpened the public’s anxiety. On January 2, 1934, a man, Olof Hedlund was visiting the town of Sorsele when he spotted a flying object at 3:45 a.m. under a full moon. An engine roar heralded the craft’s arrival from the west; it circled the railway station three times at 1,200 feet.  Overall, Olof observed it fly for a total of 15 minutes.  To Olof’s eye the craft was not a biplane but appeared to have a single wing with an enclosed cockpit.  Oddly, it bore no insignia.  Amid all of this peculiar flying behavior, Olof was sure of one more fact which made no sense—the craft’s engine halted multiple times mid-flight.

What might explain this—where the engine sound appeared and then disappeared so dramatically?

On the one hand, we might want to ascribe this as a feature of something extraterrestrial, but on the other, propeller engines are known to exhibit directional noise patterns.  Unlike jets, where noise is predominantly louder from the rear due to exhaust, propeller noise is primarily generated by the blades interacting with the air, resulting in aerodynamic sounds that are often more intense forward of the propeller disc and in the plane of rotation. This means the sound can be louder when the aircraft is approaching head-on but it may seem quieter from behind or the sides. 

In experimental studies, directivity patterns show peaks at specific angles, like from the side or front, with variations up to 9 dB based on aircraft heading and setup.  But interestingly, there does not seem to be a position where the engine would make no noise whatsoever, only that the position of the plane would increase or decrease the amplitude.

So, like most pieces of evidence—there’s nothing definitive here—only more questions.

Still, like the sighting in 1910 in New York City, to have a plane operate at night and at such low altitude still defied aviation and safety norms in 1933.

New sightings of craft with unusual flying behavior emerged two weeks later. A lighthouse keeper, amid a 40-mph blizzard at Holmogadd near Stockholm, spotted a flying object twice. On January 8, 1934, it hovered over Grasundet island, spiraling downward near the water, then ascending—repeating this for an hour. A Stockholm newspaper reported the lighthouse keeper’s words on January 9: "I have never seen anything like it.  It was a very strange action for an airplane."

Hundreds of sightings like these occurred throughout the year—interestingly, about a third unfolded in savage weather: blizzards, dense fog. UAPs skimmed low over villages, ships, and treacherous mountain railways.

Before we explore more of these odd sightings and automatically attribute them to witnesses misidentifying aircraft, let’s explore the aviation technologies of the time.  Aviation in 1933 had started to evolve from crude biplanes, but most remained awkward, open-cockpit relics: short-range and inefficient. Few pilots braved even mild rain; night flying proved rare and audacious. Instruments stayed primitive; structures shifted from wood-fabric to metal. A key advance involved all-metal monoplanes, eclipsing 1920s biplanes.

Navigation tools did not yet address the risks of night or bad-weather perils: autopilots and radio direction finders had started to emerge, but were still in their infancy.

And what about the bright lights seen shining from these craft?  Of course, planes, even at this time, had landing lights that resembled car headlights.  But these would have been far too dim to grab the attention of witnesses, especially when they were seen illuminating the ground beneath the plane.  Arc lights existed but demanded massive power and space, making them completely incompatible with the aircraft of the time.

Part 2 – the Government Response

Disturbed by the unusual nature of these flying objects, the governments of Sweden, Norway, and Finland quickly mobilized vast investigations. Their concern was amplified as many witnesses, including active-duty military staff, observed the low-flying intruders overflying forts, railways, and restricted zones.  Suddenly, the flying objects weren’t just an odd anomaly but were potentially involved in espionage.

These same governments also started censoring details in the media while they searched for answers.  Still, newspapers dispatched reporters to the north where the majority of the sightings were.

On January 2, Swedish Air Force head Major von Porat confirmed the phantom's reality in Sorsele. He flat out told the public that the military was censoring facts about the craft, stating: "Specific details can't be published.”

The next day, on January 3, von Porat elaborated: "Reputable people have seen the mysterious airplane with searchlight rays playing over the ground. Among the witnesses are two military men from the 4th Flying Corps. The 'Flying Ghost' has been coming over Norway, crossing the Swedish border, and following a course over the lakes, particularly over the villages of Storuman, Tarna, Sorsele and Stensele."

On January 4, the newspaper Västerbottens-Kuriren noted: "Hundreds of reports are circulating in Vasterbotten about mysterious airplanes, ghostlights and swooping searchlights over villages, lakes and wooded areas." The paper explored theories from hysteria to celestial illusions, but acknowledged "airplanes with low-powered engines which sent beams of light into the sky... There are so many contradictions we don't know what we shall think about this."

Aviation and military experts pontificated, proposing solutions that ranged from absurd to alarmist. Anonymous sources hypothesized that the sightings were of Russian or Japanese spy planes.  Nordic newspapers dismissed these ideas—perhaps under the direction of their governments. 

On January 11, 1934, in Älvkarleby, Sweden, the Ghost Flyers seemed to be growing bolder with eyewitnesses reporting new sightings of a greyish aircraft in the area. About a 10-hour drive north, other witnesses observed a Ghost Flyer over the fort of Boden. A military guard also saw the object fly over other nearby forts. A Swedish general said: "We are dealing with more than one machine.  There's no doubt about it."  Army search parties continued to wade through the mountains on skis and snowshoes, and military investigators swarmed over the areas interviewing witnesses in depth.

But by January 18, 1934, the Swedish 4th Flying Corps gave up their investigation and withdrew.  They’d found nothing that would explain the ghost fliers.  Still, the Swedish military felt confident that the aircraft were not of Russian origin. 

While the Swedes were wrapping up their investigation, the Ghost Flyer sightings had spread to Finland and the Finnish authorities launched their own investigations.

On January 27, 1934, in Helsingfors, Finland, a newspaper reported that, according to government sources, large Ghost Flyers, the size of three-engined planes, were sighted over Finland.  Furthermore, two Finnish army planes stationed nearby were prepared to track them down. The newspaper went on to state that the Swedes had previously deployed 24 land-based planes, two seaplanes, and a number of ships in their investigation. And their neighboring country of Norway was also involved; Norwegian ships and planes were scouring the Arctic waters and remote islands for clues about the origin of these anomalous aircraft.

Amid the military investigations, Ghost Flyers continued to fly, but usually choosing periods of snowstorms when the military searchers couldn't even get their planes off the ground.

Then, after the initial burst of sightings, published accounts suddenly diminished sharply, though follow-up stories appeared throughout 1934. In retrospect, it appears that the sightings and reports continued at a high rate, but in February Scandinavian governments sought to downplay the events as they had no answers about sources of the objects.

On January 31, 1934, Lieutenant Colonel Snellman, chief of the Finnish Air Force, told the press, "There is no longer any reason to doubt the existence of the Ghost Flyer."

Other officials and aviation experts were interviewed by the press and unanimously expressed the opinion that the Ghost Flyers were far more expert than any pilots in northern Europe, that they were superbly equipped with advanced radio and navigational equipment, and seemed to represent "an extraordinary organization."

And then, a Ghost Flyer was seen outside of Scandinavia. On February 2, 1934, the London Times reported: "Much attention was attracted last night by an airplane which flew continuously for two hours in circles over the city and Central London. From the heavy note of the engines the machine was a large one, and its altitude was sufficiently low for its course to be clearly traced by its lights. At the Air Ministry it was stated that nothing was known of the reason of the flight. In reply to inquiries at a number of civil aerodromes around London it was stated that no civil machine had been chartered for a flight over the Metropolis."

Two days later, on February 4, 1934, according to the New York Times: "... the newspapers have interviewed aviation experts who state the mystery fliers show exceptional skill, undoubtedly superior to that of the northern European aviators. According to one expert's theory, the first of the 'ghost' aviators was a Japanese scouting the Arctic regions whose activities caused the Soviet to dispatch airplanes to watch the Japanese. The Soviet authorities, however, refute this theory.... The appearance of a mysterious airplane over London has strengthened belief that the flights constitute an extensive scheme to explore aviation possibilities for a future war."

The British government, like its Scandinavian counterparts, started to suppress the events for which they had no explanation.  On February 6, Sir Philip Sassoon, Under-Secretary of State for Air, offered this explanation: "The aircraft to which my honorable friend evidently refers was a Royal Air Force aircraft carrying out a training exercise in cooperation with ground forces. Such training flights are arranged in the Royal Air Force without reference to the Air Ministry."

It’s an interesting explanation to say the least—that a training flight were to be flown over London with little regard for safety of both the passengers and people on the ground.

And at this moment, the battle between censorship and truth continued.  Dagens Nyheter, the very newspaper that had first reported on the sightings, published an article on March 3rd, stating:  "There had never been any Ghost Flyer at all! The search for the mysterious airplanes and other strange objects has been terminated, since the investigations proved futile."

Still, some truth leaked out.  In a widely published story datelined Oslo, Norway, March 10, 1934, General Henrik Johannessen of the Norwegian Air Force said, "Reports still trickle into the newspapers. We can't reject all of these observations as illusions."

On April 30, 1934, Major General Reuterswärd, commanding general of upper Norrland, made this statement to the press: "Comparisons of these reports show that there can be no doubt about illegal air traffic over our secret military areas. There are many reports from reliable people which describe close observations of the enigmatic flier. And in every case the same remark can be noted: no insignia or identifying marks were visible on the machines. It is impossible to explain away the whole thing as mere imagination. The question is: Who or whom are they, and why have they been invading our air territory?"

And flights continued over London as well.  On Monday, June 11, 1934, two mystery airplanes appeared over London, according to the London Times in the next day’s edition: "The sound and sight of two airplanes circling above the city late last night aroused interest and some curiosity. The machines were low enough for their outlines, as well as their navigation lights, to be clearly visible against the sky. At the Air Ministry, it was stated that although night flying was frequently practised by R.A.F. machines, and several were up last night, service pilots were forbidden by regulations to fly over London at less than 5,000ft. The identity of the machines in question was not officially known."

And so, while the governments and their militaries struggled to identify the Ghost Flyer, witnesses continued to see more of the ghost flyers performing aerodynamically in ways that were completely out of the realm of possibility for the time.

Part 3 - Landings & a Crash

While governments equivocated, the mystery deepened and new reports emerged of the Ghost Flier UAPs making landings.

On January 11, 1934, inhabitants of the village of Norsjo, Sweden, described a bright light which was visible over the entire area. It was exceptionally strong and moved over the southern horizon. An employee of the Royal Telegraph Service watched the mysterious light land over the swamp.  He reported the landing to police who searched the swamp during a violent snowstorm but found nothing.  In another sighting south of Norsjo, witnesses saw a craft land on the ice. Investigators who braved the harsh winter weather found some markings but nothing definitive that might explain what the craft was.

In Trondheim, Norway, two more landings were reported that same day, January 11.  In two separate descents, one UAP landed near the island of Gjeslingen, outside Rorvik, and the other at a place called Kvaloj. The report from Gjeslingen noted that witnesses heard a loud sound and saw a great beam of light coming from the craft. After landing on the water, the machine remained quietly on the water for an hour and a half. Its light went out after it landed but the general opinion of the witnesses was that the object was still there. The second Ghost Flyer UAP took off 15 minutes after landing at Kvaloj and vanished southwards.

While dozens of other reports also detailed landings, there was one incident where witnesses observed a flying object crash in the Norwegian mountains.

The Swedish newspaper Dagens-Nyheter reported that, on the night of February 5th: “An unknown airplane has crashed or made an emergency landing on Fager Mountain. People in the valley watched the machine as it went down on the mountain. The next morning the plane was still there and two figures were visible beside it, apparently clearing away the snow. Moments later the machine made two attempts to take off, but without success.”

Reporters tracking the story consulted the county police chief, whose words amplified the intrigue. He affirmed the account, noting that the crash had been witnessed by people living on both sides of the mountain.

The chief shared the most disconcerting evidence with the reporters: eyewitnesses swore that as the object crashed, there wasn't a whisper of engine noise. Nothing.

Yet, the very next day, witnesses heard mechanical noises from the mountain, like an engine trying to restart. A woman on a nearby farm was outside feeding the animals, and reported hearing an unearthly noise. Soon, others caught it too—a noise so alien, so out of place in that remote wilderness.

The day after the incident, eight locals battled up the treacherous slopes, hearts pounding, searching for any sign of the craft. They found...nothing. No wreckage, no clues, just endless snow. But that night, at exactly 10:00 p.m., the mystery reignited. Four witnesses spotted a craft slicing through the darkness over Malselv, heading southwest—straight away from Fager Mountain. Was it the same craft or another one searching for the downed comrade?

Undeterred, three more search parties clawed their way up the mountain the next day. And then, the Norwegian newspaper Tidens Tegn dropped this bombshell: "Farmer Martensson of Fugleli said that one of the patrols discovered two parallel traces in the snow 300-400 metres north-west of the point where the aero-plane had been seen. The traces were about 75 metres in length and 80 cms. wide... The patrol also found footprints around the traces. The search will begin again tomorrow at dawn. Lieutenant Kjaer, a specialist from the Defence Department, will command the operation."

Again, we’re left to wonder—could the most advanced human aviation technology of the time create an aircraft that would survive a nighttime landing in mountainous terrain in the middle of a snowstorm...and liftoff again?  So what was it that vanished into thin air on that mountain? Who—or what—left those ghostly tracks? 

Part 4 – Other Explanations 

Once you’ve eliminated the possible, then, no matter how unlikely the reason, you have to start accepting the impossible. But before ascribing the ghost flier sightings to something otherworldly or extraterrestrial, let’s exhaust every potential human explanation for these mysterious flights.

Coordinated investigations by Swedish, Norwegian, and Finnish air forces cataloged hundreds of Ghost Flyer accounts—Sweden reviewed 487 reports, deeming 46 credible and unexplained, while Finland examined 111, leaving about 15 unexplained.  So, governments took the Ghost Flyer reports seriously amid pre-World War II geopolitical tensions, including concern over the security of Scandinavian iron ore resources coveted by Germany and the Soviet Union.

A 1934 memo from Swedish General Pontus Reuterswärd concluded evidence of unauthorized air traffic existed, but that the flights were untraceable with the technology of the day.  Remember, radar was not invented until 1935.

Contemporary theories speculated that Soviet or German forces were conducting surveillance.  However, in the early 1930s, the Soviet Union was underdeveloped and lacked a notable plane-building industry.  Innovations like the Soviet Tupolev ANT-20 bomber might account for some sightings but its size and agility mismatched descriptions. And the Soviets were more concerned with using these aircraft for propaganda purposes than dangerous flying at night in blizzards. After the collapse of the Soviet communist system, no declassified documents have emerged that even hint at Soviet involvement.

Germany was forbidden by the Versailles Treaty to construct war planes or establish an Air Force. After Adolph Hitler took power in 1933, he began—secretly at first—building the Luftwaffe. In 1933, Germany had about 300 pilots, mostly World War I veterans. Hitler couldn't risk this meager force in a reckless adventure over Scandinavia in 1933-34.

Additionally, such operations required extended supply lines, hidden bases for aircraft maintenance, and vast trained personnel. The "Ghost Flyers'" distances were vast; 1933's best planes needed widespread Scandinavian landing fields for refueling and upkeep. At the time, military bomber or torpedo biplanes, the best suited for reconnaissance, provided ranges of 400-600 miles and endurances of 4-6 hours.

Plus, later correlation of reports showed at least six UAPs were aloft simultaneously—if they were aircraft, the supply chain required to support them would have been extraordinary.

Japan might also have been responsible. But Japan was engaged in war with China in the 1930s, lacking reason or resources for Scandinavia reconnaissance halfway around the world.

Could natural phenomena account for the hundreds of sightings?  Northern latitude residents know mundane phenomena like Northern Lights, comets, and meteors. They wouldn't mistake falling stars for intense aerial searchlights or flying craft.

Early in the flap, Scandinavian press suggested smugglers. But Swedish and Norwegian investigators dropped this; smugglers would need a vast, well-financed organization, only to be flying prohibited goods into tiny Scandinavian towns.

I’ve shared these factors to propose my hypothesis about these sightings: human activity could not explain all of the Ghost Flyer activity in the Nordics in 1933 and 1934.   No nation or organization had aviation technology, facilities, resources, or even motivation for what thousands of witnesses observed.

So, what are we left with?  Could the source of the dozens of unexplained sightings be the same one responsible for the foo fighters that stalked allied and axis planes during World War II?  Could it be the same source that sends UAPs between water and sky in today's world?

I have no answers—only speculation, only questions.  Yet, I am certain of something—there is more historical evidence than I ever imagined that anomalous objects have haunted our skies and oceans for centuries.

If you’re still watching or listening, thank you!  I’m MF Thomas and this is My Dark Path through the fringes of the unexplained.  Until next time my friends, good night.