Here at s8int.com, we have no idea whether this story is true, or assuming that it is true, what the object in fact is. We have to say this because of recent letters we've received; this article was not written by anyone at s8int.com. Having done what we could to verify that the story "might" be true, (certain individuals or locations mentioned in the story actually do or did exist) we've simply provided an opportunity for readers to consider it and decide for themselves what it might mean.
It would certainly have interesting implications if in fact a huge manmade "silo" was actually encased in limestone, though wouldn't it?--A pre-flood artifact?
THE CAVE IN SLOVAKIA
"I froze in amazement - there stands something like a large, black silo framed in white limestone formations. It is a glass- smooth flank of a seemingly man-made structure. Even the thought of a tower-sized artifact embedded in rock in the middle of an obscure mountain is bewildering." - Antonin T. Horak diary - October 23, 1944
DISCOVERY OF THE ARTIFACT: From the WW II diary of Antonin Horak:
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October 21, 1944 - Saturday afternoon the remnants of our battalion (184 men and officers, a quarter wounded, 16 stretcher cases) were retreating through the snow of the north slope area Zegiestow. My company was the rear guard.
At dawn Sunday, two 70mm opened up at us from close range - about 300 meters. Having held our position for 12 hours, I ordered a gradual breakup of the skirmish and a slip-off.
But in our left trench someone became careless, and that drew two direct hits - shells, two wounded. Arriving there I bumped into the enemy, caught a bayonet and bullet.
I came to when someone was pulling me from the trench, a tall peasant. He packed snow on my wounds and grinned. Then this rough and ready Samaritan grabbed Jurek, stripped off his pants, yanked a long sliver of steel from his thigh, and planted him bare-bottomed and gasping into a heap of snow.
Martin, with a slash across and into his belly was tenderly bandaged. Building a stretcher the peasant introduced himself as Slavek, a sheepman, owner of the pastures hereabouts. With Slavek hauling and guiding, it took us four hours to reach this cranny.
Slavek moved rocks in the cranny and opened a low cleft, the entrance to this roomy grotto. Placing Martin in a niche, we were astonished to see Slovek become ceremonious: he crossed himself, each of us, the grotto, and, with a deep bow, its back wall, where a hole came to my attention.
About to leave us, Slavek went through the same holy rites, and begged me not to go further into his cave. I accompanied him to fetch pine boughs, and he told me that only, with his father and grandfather, had he been in this cave; that it was a huge maze, full of pits which they never wanted to fathom, pockets of poisonous air, and "certainly haunted".
I was back in the grotto with my men at about midnight, exhausted. Martin was unconscious, Jurek feverish. For breakfast-lunch-dinner he and I had hot water, and, thank God, I had my pipe. I placed warm stones around Martin, and Jurek got the first watch.
Miserable night. Martin at times conscious; I gave him 3 aspirins and hot water to sip with drops of Slivovitz. Jurek hobbled hungrily around the two German helmets in which he boiled water to which I added 10 drops of Slivovitz, our breakfast. With this deluge of snow, avalanches imminent, and enemy skiers roaming, Slavek may not be able to get through to us with food for days to come. And neither should I try hunting and track up the landscape while I have two immobilized men on my hands.
But here we have this cave which Slavek knows only partially; it may have more than this known entrance, and it may contain hibernating animals. These possibilities I mulled over while Jurek was chewing pine bark, and, as expected, he implored me to go poaching into Slavek's cave and promised to keep mum. And I was not only starved but equally eager to find out what makes self-assured Slavek scared enough to invoke the Deities.
I started my cave tour with rifle, lantern, torches, pick.
After a not too devious nor dangerous walk and some squeezings, always taking the easiest and marking side passages, I came, after about 1 ½ hours, into a long, level passage, and at its end upon a barrel-sized hole. Crawling through and still kneeling, I froze in amazement-there stands something like a large, black silo, framed in white.
Regaining breath I thought that this is a bizarre, natural wall or curtain of black salt, or ice, or lava. But I became perplexed, then awestruck when I saw that is a glass-smooth flank of a seemingly man-made structure which reaches into the rocks on all sides.
Beautiful, cylindrically curved it indicates a huge body with a diameter of about 25 meters. Where this structure and the rocks meet, large stalagmites and stalactites form that glittering white frame.
The wall is uniformly blue-blackish, its material seems to combine properties of steel, rubber-the pick made no marks and bounced off vigorously. Even the thought of a tower-sized artifact; embedded in rock in the middle of an obscure mountain, in a wild region where not even legend knows about ruins, mining, industry; overgrown with age-old cave deposits, is bewildering - the fact is appalling.
How About A Treasure Hunt? We Got A Doozy
Lost ancient artifacts in eastern Europe, War hero fighting for his life finds location of buried ancient artifacts in 1944.Lost to the world till 2001.Location found.
Have you ever wondered, was this all by chance? Have you wanted to look for artifacts of a lost civilazation?
Have you dreamed of finding the Titanic? Was there and underground civilization on this planet? Could we be part of an experiment from worlds unknown to us?
I dont know but?????
This is a quote from the journal of Captain Antonin Horak written in a cave surrounded by German solders trying to kill him in 1944:
"I froze in amazement - There stands something like a large,black silo framed in white limestone formations. It is a glass-smooth flank of a seemingly man-made structure. Even the thought of a tower-sized artifact embedded in rock in the middle of an obscure mountain is bewildering." - Antonin T. Horak diary - October 23, 1944
Does this excert from a WW2 journal make you wonder what he saw that made such and impression on him to write about it while struggling for his life fighting the Germans in 1944.
It made an anomalies research group from The Museum of the Unexplained in Missouri take notice in 2000.
In 2000, Larry Cekander,VP of the Museum of the Unexplained heard the story from Ted Phillips and became very interested just like other researchers from decades past.
After talking with other board members about this case plans where made for a trip into the area. Funds where secured by the Museum from a donation from Cekander to finance the trip.
With new information in hand the Museum sent Ted Phillips and a helper Steve Vilmer over for a 6 week investigation to the area. A week before they where to return home Steve Villmer literally fell into the cave that has stayed hidden for 6 decades.
Larry Cekander, Lead Project Coordinator, "states that everthing noted as being left in the cave by Tony was there as was the markings on the cave walls as described in the diary. This cave had waited 57 years for someone to find it. We did that. Now we need to finish the job. It still holds secrets but the location is no longer lost.
What or who could have placed this artifact inside a cave. We want to know and thats the bottom line. We want to finish what was started by Tony Horack in 1944". Cekander states "this could rewrite history as we know it today. We need a sponsor or sponsors to do the final research trip to this location and open the fourth chamber where the Artfact is resting along with a ten thousand year old Cave Bear Skeleton."
Cekander says "I guess I just read too many stories of great expeditions to the unknown when i was a kid. I watch the Discovery Channel more than regular tv programs. I'm still learning and I'm still dreaming. I'm still looking up to the stars."
When asked why he thinks this is real..he stated, "Its simple you don't write science fiction in a cave in 1944, fighting for your life in a pitch battle with the German Army. You are eating bats to stay alive and you where left for dead on the battle field after being wounded. Tony Horak found something very real.
Do you still dream of wonderous things of the past. Ancient Artifacts buried for thousands of years.
Now is your chance to join with the Museum of the Unexplained and open the Moonshaft thats been waiting 60 years for our team to get there since Tony Horak discovered it in 1944.
Cekander states "This is and extraordinary opportunity for someone with vision and a dream to be involved hands on." If they are in excellent health and have back country experience you could go on the trip of a life time..
Sponsors will get credit for helping in the project and a tax credit as well since the Museum is a 501c3 research organization. "We are trying to raise a minimum of $225,000 to jump start the project, get in this spring with a small team and continue the interior survey with expense's estimated at $500,000 total. One sponsor or thousands of small sponsors will still get the job done."
Donations to the project dont have to be monetary as equipment is needed such as generators, power jacks, caving harness, ropes, lights, shovels, atv's, anything concerning rough terrian and packing into the area. We need GPS and satellite comunications equipment with computor links possible from the area. The list is long and if you have something you might like to get a tax credit on contact us at the e-mail or phone numbers listed.
What did Tony Horak see in 1944 that made such and impact on him. Its sitting there waiting for a Dreamer or two. This dream is big enough for many to have. There's room for all.
This can equal or surpass the opening of King Tuts Tomb, locating the Titanic, the Aztec, the Inca's, the discovery of the New World with the bonus of a 10,000 year old cave bear waiting for the team.
Lets add to the history book.
For more information on sponsorships, you may contact the Lead Project Coordinator.
or call The Museum of the Unexplained at
Not immediately discernable, a crack in the wall appears from below, about 20 to 25 cm wide, tapers off and disappears into the cave's ceiling, 2 to 5 cm wide. Its insides, right and left, are pitch black and have fist-sized, sharp valleys and crests. The crack's bottom is a rather smooth trough of yellow limestone, and drops off very steeply, about 60 degrees, into the wall. I threw a lighted torch through; it fell and extinguished with loud cracklings and hissings as if a white hot ploughshare were dropped into a bucket.
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Driven to explore, and believing me thin enough to get through this upside-down keyhole, I went in. Wriggling sideways, injured hand and head below and steeply downward, nearly standing on my head, cramped, though my right arm with the lamp could move in the extended crack above me, the crush got the better of me and I had to get out, back, quickly. And that became a struggle. When out and breath regained, I was too fascinated by the whole riddle and determined to get at it. For the day I had enough and had to think about tactics.
I was in camp at about 4 p.m. Jurek had washed Martin, kept him between warm stones, and I gave him three aspirins and hot water with Slivovitz to sip. I explained to Jurek that the hunt in the cave requires much smoke, poles, and a rope. Thank God, Slovek and Hanka (Slavek's daughter) did come with provisions.
When they left I accompanied them to fetch some torch boughs, was back in camp at about 2 a.m., dead tired, but finally we had eaten - Jurek too much - and I got the 2nd watch.
October 24, 1944. Peaceful night; Martin sipped fever-tea with honey, hope we can pull him through. Jurek's posterior is not even swollen, but my head still is. I cut our belts, braided 8 meters of solid rope. At 10 a.m. was at the wall; anchored the rope over a stick across the crack, and keeping it slung over my shoulder, forced myself again into the grim maw. Like yesterday, the lamp, this time carbide, was on a stick ahead within the jaw above.
When it came through and down, it swung freely over some void into which I could not see, and there was again rushing as if from agitated waters. And, unable to turn, I feared a water filed pit ahead and to end in it - literally - in a headstand. I wriggled upward, back again; my clothes caught on the protrusions, descended on my shoulders and head, and formed a plug. When out and on my feet, I was shaking from exhaustion.
There are no loose stones about the wall, and so I hacked stalagmites into short rolls and bowled them down through the crack. They rolled on, causing enormous echoes, and knocked to a standstill, indicating a solid floor and room to turn. I launched the unlit torches after the stones, undressed, keeping the shirt only, and went after the stones and torches. Already acquainted with the meanest fangs in the crack, I came through with only a few cuts, dropped a little, rolled down an incline and was stopped by a wall which felt familiar, satiny smooth like the front wall.
My lamp was still burning next to me, but there were confusing sounds. Lighting some torches, I saw that I was in a spacious, curved, black shaft formed by cliff-like walls which intersect and form a crescent shaped, nearly vertical tunnel, rather shaft. I cannot describe the somberness and the endless whisperings, and roaring sounds, abnormal echoes from my breathing and movements. The floor is the incline over which I rolled in, a solid lime "pavement".
All the lights together did not reach the ceiling or where these walls end or meet. The horizontal distance between the apexes of the concave backside of the front wall and the convex back wall is about 8 meters; along the curve of the back wall is about 25 meters. To explore further I needed more light and my pick, which does not fit through the crack and must be taken apart.
I left jubilant, in a sort of enchantment mixed with determination to explore this large structure, which I believe is unique, singular.
This time with my head up, with no clothes to ensnare and burn me, I was through the crack fairly unscathed, dressed, smoked a pipe, and was underway to my men. I tried to catch some bats, but caught none. Jurek was boiling potatoes and mutton and therefore inclined to excuse my bad hunting. He even appreciated its hardships when he had to grease the scratches on my back, and mend my shirt.
Martin had a crumb of bread with honeyed fever tea. After 6 p.m. I went for a new load of torches, was back at about 10 p.m. Jurek got both watches.
October 25, 1944. We had a good night. Martin seems to mend. Am glad that Jurek's thigh is not yet well enough for him to want to go with me poaching for bats. It is better that he knows nothing about the cave's secret. I went directly to the wall, undressed like yesterday, smeared mutton fat over me, slid my things through the crack and went in, feet first. Extending the carbide lamp upon a double pole, with four torches burning, still the upper ends of the cliffs remained in the dark. I fired two bullets up, parallel to the walls.
The reports caused roars as from an express train, but no impact was visible. Then I fired a bullet on each wall, aiming some 15 meters upward from me, got large blue-green sparks and such sounds that I had to hold my ears between my knees, and flames danced wildly.
Assembling the pick caused more uproars. I probed the "pavement", and started digging where the lime is thin, in the horns of the crescent. At right is dry loam; at left I came, at about a meter, upon a pocket of enamel from the teeth of some large animal; took one canine and one molar, replaced the rest.
Digging on nearby, the back wall has, at about 1.5 meters below the pavement, a vertical, finely fluted, undulating pattern. It seemed warmer than the smooth surface. I tried with lip and ear, and believe the impression is correct. I could hear a soft, distant throbbing like a large piston. In the middle the pavement is too thick for a trench pick.
When the torches were extinguished, and I was in a freezing sweat, I left the artifact, dressed and went where the bats area, and bagged seven. Jurek stuffed them with bread and herbs and they became exquisite "pigeons". Slavek and Olga, his other daughter, came at about dusk with hay, straw, a sheep's fleece, more medicinal herbs - selfheal and stonecrop - and seeds from the Iris, an excellent coffee substitute. I accompanied him, fetched pine torches, two long poles, and was back about midnight. Martin got the last aspirins, honey water; and Jurek both watches.
October 26, 1944. It was a good night. I went into the artifact to continue experimenting. On my longest assembly of poles the carbide lamp did not light the upper end of these cliffs. I fired above the lighted areas; the bullets struck huge sparks and made deafening echoes. The horizontally at the back wall with similar effects - sparks, roarings, no splinters, but a half-finger-long welt which gave a pungent smell.
After that I continued in my digging in the left moon horn and saw that the wavy pattern extends downward; but in the right horn I found no such pattern.
I left the shaft to probe the front wall and its surroundings. Next to the stalactites are some enamel-like flecks which, scraped, yield a powder too fine to be collected without glue, which I will try to boil from our "pigeon 's" claws. I wished to obtain a sample of the peculiar material of the walls, but even firing two bullets into the crack, upon the protrusions and hitting them, I received only ricochets, a blast of thunder, welts, and the same pungent smell.
Returning to camp I caught some bats and we again had "pigeons". I ordered Jurek to carefully remove any trace of them and kept the claws. The Slaveks arrived as usual at nightfall bringing this time a quarter of a deer, ½ kilogram of salt, and a tin of carbide. Jurek took both watches.
October 27, 1944. Martin died, slept into death. Jurek knows his kin, took charge of his belongings, including his wallet with 643 crowns, watch with chain, and my certificate. Now we are free and ready to leave and rejoin our battalion which is somewhere east of Kosice. With his stick Jurek can march some 10 kilometers daily, and we have to move carefully anyway. We will start tomorrow.
At 10 a.m. I was in the cave probing for a way around behind the artifact; looked also for ice and poisonous air about which Slavek had spoken, and found none, though there may be some. Then I slipped into the shaft to sketch, dig, and ponder, and returned to camp at about 4 p.m. I ordered Jurek to prepare our packs, clean our weapons, boil food for seven days, and have ready what we will not need to return to the Slaveks. He and both girls, as if the family had sensed that Martin died, came, and we carried him into the dwarf pines to the trench where he had received his mortal wound, took turns to dig his grave, prayed, and buried him in a blanket. Slavek is to set up a good cross next spring for which I gave him 150 crowns. Slavek briefed me as best he could about the enemy eastward from here. Jurek and I were back in our grotto at midnight, and he took both watches; he can sleep most of the day tomorrow.
October 28, 1944. Restful night, good breakfast. Cut my name, etc., on a leather strap, and together with the golden back of my watch rolled and inserted both engravings into a glass bottle, plugged it with a pebble and a ball of clay mixed with charcoal, and deposited this record in the artifact, on top of the ashes of my torches.
It may stay there a long time, possibly until the structure is completely hidden behind its curtain of stalactites and stalagmites. Slavek has no son to tell him about his cave-mystery; his womenfolk don't know about it, and anyway daughters usually marry to other villages. In a few decades nobody will know, if I do not come back and have the structure explored.
I sat there by my fire speculating: What is this structure, with walls 2 meters thick and a shape that I cannot imagine of any purpose known nowadays? How far does it reach into the rocks? Is there more behind the shaft? Which incident or who put it into the mountain? Is it a fossilized man-made object?
Is there truth in legends, like Plato's, about long lost civilizations with magic technologies which our rationale cannot grasp or believe?
I am a sober, academically trained person but must admit that here, between these black, satiny, mathematically- curved cliffs I do feel as if in the grip of an exceedingly strange and grim power. I can understand that simple but intelligent and practical men like Slavek and his forebears sense here witchery, conceal it, and also fear that if the existence of this structure is ever made known, it would attract armies of tourists, and all the commotion, tunneling and blasting, hotels and commercialization which would probably ruin their nature bound trade and honest life.
If and when I come back it will be with a team of secrecy bound experts: geologist, metallurgist, cave expert; and if the object is of true importance for the advancement of knowledge and proper civilization, ways will have to be found to respect the Slavek's interests.
On my way back to camp I burrowed and hid the crawl holes which lead towards the wall; the cave may have entrances which Slavek does not know, and some chance discoverer may start blasting for "treasure" before a scientific team can get there. Without the detailed sketches of the cave, no one can find the route to the structure.
I was in camp after 3 p.m., and about 5 p.m. all three Slaveks arrived, bringing some hard-boiled eggs. Jurek asked permission to talk privately with Slavek, and then Hanka was carefully sounded out by her father whether she would accept Jurek as her husband.
She cried and laughed, Jurek gave her his photograph and golden watch which his father had brought from America; Jurek is a well-to-do carpenter in Bratislava. I am invited to the wedding and will try to come. To make sure, I gave Hanka a letter to a befriended jeweler and commanded her to get the nicest of Bohemian garnets as a wedding present. The Slaveks had brought their family Bible, and I made some entries.
With the hardy Slovak handshakes and mbobo stiastia, Pan Bub prozebnaj Vas. Bub s tebou, we shouldered our weapons and packs and went. When we entered the pines and turned we saw Slavek concealing his cave and the girls sweeping away our tracks. The moon was bright and the snow glittered.
October 30, 1944. We moved during the dark hours only and along the timber line. During daylight, camping below a fine pine tree, were alarmed by the sound of infantry fire; approaching to investigate we observed a strong group of insurgents skirmishing with a ski party of Wehrmacht and Polish Blue Police (fascists). The fascists went soon, and joining the insurgents we were their guests for a whole day.
They were a mixed group of Hechaluts, ZOB and DROR, from the Rzeszow region in adjacent Poland, who had helped in our Uprising and were now on their way back - through immense snow - to their usual sectors between Cracow and Przemysl. Their physician was Rachel W., the widow of a murdered Jewish doctor; she knew and told us about the exploits of the famous Jesia Fryman Banda against the Nazists; and fed us two fine, hot meals.
When these valiant Jewish fighters were marching on northward, we had to go southward, towards Josice, which we reached on our 6th day; and there receiving directions we could proceed to join our battalion which was awaiting the next offensive of the Red Army to join it to the end of the war. (Tony and Jurek continued to fight in the ZakarPatska Oblast sector in the Ukraine until the end of the war.
After the end I had taken the animal teeth I had collected from the artifact to the curator of paleontology at Uzhorod (on the Slovak/Ukraine border) and he classified them as adult cave bear, Ursus spaeleus. Thereupon I speculated; the crack is too small; the limp of limestone and stalagmites in front of the crack would not let any debris through; this bear seems to have fallen into the artifact, which may have had a connection to the surface.
In the very last days of World War II, on my way towards Bohemia, I revisited the place. The Slaveks lived temporarily at Zdar. I visited Martin 's grave and looked at the cave entrance. On my last visit to the place, I examined the mountainside above the cave and found no sinkholes or pits, the assumed connections toward the artifact. But on these very steep slopes in the Tatra Mountains, rock slides could have obliterated or filled and connections."
On July 23, 1970 I received a call from Don Richmond, a long time investigator with the Aerial Phenomena Research Organization. He told me of his neighbor, Antonin Horak, who had an interesting experience during World War II. Don briefly described the discovery by Horak of an unusual artifact in a cave in Czechoslovakia.
As I had been an avid spelunker since the age of 14 I listened carefully to the details. I told Don that I would arrange a trip to his home in Pueblo, Colorado in the very near future.
The end of September found me at the Horak home and after a pleasant visit with Tony and Anna I was shown the original diary kept by Tony during the war. I was impressed with Tonys intelligence and sincerity, asked many questions and copied the diary.
I asked him to translate the text from the diary and send me copies, which he did. His primary concern was that the artifact be studied by scientists to try to determine its purpose and origin. Tony would not be able to return with a team as he was 72 years old and Anna feared for his safety.
Following our visit I called Dr. J. Allen Hynek and gave him the details on a possible project to reach the artifact. He was immediately interested and we arranged to discuss the project in New Mexico later in the week. After our visit Allen went to Pueblo and discussed the details with Tony in person.
We then contacted Jim and Corel Lorenzen, directors of the Aerial Phenomena Research Organization, with our ideas. In short order, they arranged for funding by Jackie Gleason and the project was on.
Tony contacted an old friend in Prague and asked for help for our small team which would try and get into the area ahead of the winter snows.
The trip would be a bit rough as transportation into eastern Slovakia was mostly on foot, Tony contacted old friends there to arrange for supplies. We were little aware of the situation in Czechoslovakia following the Russian take over of the country.
Readers Digest published an article in November 1970 which made clear the situation. We learned that our local contacts had been arrested and locked away. The situation was such that the project was determined too dangerous and was canceled.
Tony Horak died in 1976, followed by Anna in 1978 and there would be no funding for such a project for some 29 years.
Source: More story details, additional photos are located here:Center For Trace Research