                      THE RED SEA INCIDENT

(The following is a verbatim copy of a document previously issued
by the American Canadian Grand Lodge, AF&AM, under the
jurisdiction of the Grand Lodge of Germany.)

                             PREFACE

In January 1987 the undersigned received an unsolicited
manuscript from Brother James C. Krohn, a member of Red Sea Lodge
No. 919 under this jurisdiction.  The following story constitutes
Jim's personal recollection of the shocking and infamous raid on
that Lodge.  As Jim put it in the letter he sent along with his
manuscript, "accuracy and portrayal is as best as the frail human
memory will allow.  The events, names and places are true."

This month marks the tenth anniversary of the shocking raid on
Red Sea Lodge, and it is appropriate that the story of that
shameful incident be made available to our membership at this
time.  We are indebted to Brother Jim Krohn for his personal
account, and hope it may serve as a reminder to all brethren that
freedom of assembly and association is something one should never
take for granted.

In some ways, it should also serve as a reminder to every
concerned Mason of the fact that wide-spread ignorance of the
aims and purposes of Freemasonry is still very much evident even
in our free societies.  To preserve those human values so
eminently espoused by this ancient and honorable fraternity,
education not only of our membership, but the general public as
well, will be indispensable.  We owe it to ourselves, and to
future generations of Freemasons.

Frankfurt/Main                                       October 1987

                         Jess Minton-PGM
                         Grand Secretary
              American Canadian Grand Lodge, AF&AM


                      ONE BATON - A MEMORY
                         by James Krohn

                            PROLOGUE

In January, 1977, aboard a Grumman Gulfstream II, was an elderly
Saudi Arabian, "old" Prince Mohammed.  Too old to be militant,
yet a staunch fundamentalist, he was still a viable and potent
force within Saudi Arabian society and the Arab world.  A senior
advisor to the King, he held with the old ways of retaining his
power as long as possible, and defending his classic ways in the
religion of Islam.  Staring idly about the interior of the sleek,
elegant business jet, although he knew his trip would be measured
in terms of hours rather than days or weeks, he was still unable
to fully comprehend the impact of this type of travel through the
high, blue skies.

His idle thoughts were interrupted by a polite greeting from the
onboard Arab aircraft mechanic, "Essalaam alaikum."  Snapping
back to reality, the old man's response was automatic, emerging
from an age of conditioned response, "Wah alaikum essalaam."  

An exchange of pleasantries and small talk then passed between
the respected elder and the younger man who, in his way, was
attempting to establish early influence for his adult role in
Arab life.  Topic succeeded topic until the conversation led to
the aims and plans of the old prince.

His likes and dislikes long ingrained, and speaking with his
accustomed air of authority, the old man announced to the young
mechanic that within the Western community there were three
groups he intended to do something about:  the several Christian
sects openly practicing their religion within his Islamic domain; 
the bootleggers engaged in the distilling of drinking alcohol,
which they called "sediki";  and the Freemasons.

October 4th, 1977:
It was another sweltering hot afternoon when, after work, the
two-tone Chevy came to a stop under the dusty carport.  The
driver, an engineer for Saudi Arabian Airlines, gingerly grasped
the hot ignition key to turn off the engine.  Other thoughts were
pushed aside as he concentrated on that day of the week.  "It's
Lodge night tonight", he thought, and again it was time to clean
up and prepare for the monthly stated communication.  Looking
forward to the meeting, little did he realize the drastic impact
that plans made earlier in the year would have on his life within
a few hours.

After showering and finishing his own dinner, the American
Brother settled back to watch his three sons mix play with their
meal.  Reflecting pleasantly on the fact that later this evening
he was to be installed as the new Senior Steward of Red Sea Lodge
No. 919 of Jiddah, Saudi Arabia, he smiled as his wife announced
there were fresh sweetrolls to go with the freshly brewed coffee
for the meeting.  She playfully inquired if going "up the line"
would mean bringing more than coffee and rolls to the Masonic
meetings.

As the sun set, and the dark of night descended, the coffee and
rolls were carefully eased into the sedan.  Having had a chance
to cool, the car was now painless to get into, and after moving
the Chevy out of the dusty driveway, he began the slow drive
north to the Medina Road.  Richly steeped in history and
tradition, it was one of the main roads traveled by Moslem
pilgrims during their Haj.  At the junction with Medina Road, he
turned left, heading west, when he suddenly recalled there would
be 3rd degree work that evening.  Spotting a bush at the side of
the road, he eased the vehicle over to the side, stepped out to
cut off a sprig, and sliding back into the car to resume his
drive, tossed the leafy branch on the seat next to him.

Two blocks west of a truck-garage building, he slowed down to be
certain he didn't miss the trail leading off into the darkness. 
He smiled as he passed the second little sign showing a cane and
two balls, remembering his impression of George Freygang, the
Master, as being slightly exuberant in his Masonic fervor.

(Earlier that year the Brothers of Red Sea Lodge had considerable
reason to be concerned when the orthodox Arab League in Cairo
openly branded several groups as being Zionist, pro-Israeli, and
imperialist.  Notable among those groups cited were Rotary
International and Freemasonry.)

Now off the pavement, the '77 Chevy was eased over the sandy
trail, dipping and rising with each irregularity in the rough
road surface and causing the headlight beams to bounce eerily up
and down.  As he approached the building, he counted seven cars
parked outside.  They were obviously driven by Westerners,
because the cars were lined up neatly, in a row.

Easing his car carefully to a stop to avoid any coffee spills, he
failed to notice several vehicles parked a short distance away in
the sand, opposite the building he was about to enter.

The recently constructed lodge had been consecrated in a public
ceremony.  Open to the public on that occasion, many in the
Western masonic community attended, including one woman, the new
Senior Steward's wife.  Red Sea Lodge occupied a large room on
the upper story of a spacious villa owned by Heinz Blaufelder,
one of the Lodge's Entered Apprentices.  The villa also contained
the owner's family quarters as well as a large art gallery for
his additional income.

The first trip up the stairs by the Steward was through a
corridor lined with exquisite oil paintings, leading to the outer
room of the Lodge.  There, with the heavy, hot coffee maker
causing him to stoop a bit, the Steward was greeted with laughter
and playful jeers by the assembled Master Masons already holding
hot cups of coffee, who questioned the timeliness and intent of
late arrivals.  Playfully retaliating with joshing and kidding,
the Steward returned to his car for the freshly baked sweetrolls. 
The men talked and shouted as more members arrived, and Masons
shook hands and congratulated the new officers as the election
results were passed about.

Soon, a sharp rap was heard, followed by the call, "Brethren, be
clothed!"  Setting aside their cups and fumbling with apron
strings, the proud Masons entered their shiny new Lodge.  The
opening of the Lodge proceeded without delay with the Master
leading the gathered Masons.  At the outer door, the Tiler, out
of sight, held his post.  Then, suddenly, without warning, sounds
were heard resembling some type of scuffle.  Armed Arabs,
carrying revolvers, had thrown aside the Tiler, Kenny Schmidt. 
Seated to the right of the new Senior Steward, Al Shipley, the
Worshipful Master-elect, leaning forward as the Arabs came
bursting through the door, exclaimed "Uh-oh."  In front of the
menacing intruders, the Master, George Freygang, silently stepped
from the East and closed the open volume on the altar.

In a heavy accent, and waving his handgun, one Arab shouted
"Stand up!", "Hands up!".  With the barrel of his weapon pointing
at them, the startled, surprised Americans rose silently to their
feet, raising their hands and arms with uncertainty into the air. 
The apron-clad Masons were then subjected to a body-search by
excited, agitated Saudi Security personnel.  Too numbed to move,
the Masons stood still as white-robed figures searched about the
room.  Officers were demanded to surrender their sashes and
emblems.  These were cast into a heap near the altar by the
Arabs.  Moslem eyes casting about the room apparently could not
detect what they were lookinf for, as an air of subtle
frustration seemed to permeate the room.  The Master-elect leaned
over to whisper to the Senior Steward, "They can't find any
women, weapons or booze...", explaining what he presumed was
apparently frustrating the raiders in this tense situation.  And
then, everyone's wallet and other pocket items were seized by the
Arabs.

Apparently satisfied that none of the assembled Westerners were
armed or a threat, the Arabs eventually allowed everyone to sit,
while they continued to mill about, weapons at the ready.

Then, one of the Saudis, bearing an armful of paper, re-entered
the room.  Handing a stapled sheaf of papers to each Mason
present, he shouted "Answer questions!".  He repeated his command
as he passed out long forms; cheap quality 8x14 paper, containing
poorly written and barely readable questions asking for specific
details on Masonry and its organizational structure, its
communications, and its headquarters.  The landlord and one of
his laborers had been roughly forced to join the group, and a
frantic lady, apparently shopping for art, approached histeria in
claiming to the secret police that she was not a part of the
assembled group, and she was eventually allowed to leave.  After
a couple of hours the initial shock and tension was somewhat
relieved, and the questionnaires were collected by the Saudis.

Pressing on to the next stage of the armed intrusion, secret
police set about the room, opening drawers and cabinets, and
dumping the contents about the altar.  Flags of the United
States, Canada, West Germany and Saudi Arabia were
unceremoniously thrown on the floor, and upon seeing this, the
Senior Steward stepped across the room to address a young Arab. 
"Hey fella!  You just threw the Saudi flag on the floor!" 
Startled, the young Arab replied in perfect American English,
"Oh, my gosh!", and hastily restored the banners to an upright
position.

Relaxed but ever alert, the Arabs then permitted the Masons to
step out into the outer room for smoking and coffee.  Standing at
the door, expressionless and watching everyone carefully, was a
silent security man.

After approximately three hours had passed, everyone wondered
what would be done next.  The leader of the secret police's
raiding party decided there was no threat for now and that all
the rank-and-file members could leave.  Not to leave, but to be
held in custody were:  George Freygang, the Master;  Jesse
France, the Treasurer;  Joe Bays, the Secretary;  Heinz
Blaufelder, EA;  and the Arab groundskeeper employed by
Blaufelder.  They were all placed under arrest and held in a
locked room at a building occupied by the Saudi Arabian Secret
Police.  Approximately 11' x 11', the room was clean, furnished
with new beds and bedding and cooled by new air conditioners. 
The room was to be their home for the next thirty days.  (Within
twenty-four hours of the raid, all the wire services and networks
had carried the news of this infamous act.)

Individually and as a group, the four Masons were subjected over
and over again to a never-ending interrogation concerning their
Masonic activities.  An officer with the rank of major was in
charge and conducted the lengthy, detailed invstigation.  And all
of the materials seized during the raid on the Masonic Lodge were
gathered and pored over in fine detail.

Later on, George Freygang related that the documentation in
possession of the secret police before the infamous raid
convinced him that the Saudi Security had "..copies of
everything" (George's own words) that had been generated by many
of the Masons, including a number of phone conversations.

During this tense period of extreme uncertainty for all the
Masons in the area, few things were seen or heard.  But
approximately two weeks later, the wallets and the personal
effects taken during the raid were quietlt returned to their
owners.  The The Saudis weren't certain of Al Shipley's
whereabouts at the time, and gave his wallet to the Senior
Steward for delivery to him.

Apparently trying to cover themselves, (..name deleted-Ed.)
Aircraft Services Company inadvertently entered into the foray by
prematurely firing Freygang, France and Bays.  Their worried
wives questioned this move, and an important Saudi prince,
hearing of this action later was clearly fuming in anger.  But
unfortunately his anger was too late to change things; the homes
of George Freygang, Jesse France and Joe Bays had been searched
and anything masonic was confiscated, and this costly and short-
sighted move had by that time resulted in much of the employees'
household effects having been sold without the approval or
permission of the owners.  Company management worked long and
hard to try to squeeze out from under that serious move, but the
damage had been done.
At the end of a long, long thirty days of internment, four pale
Masons then emerged silently into the sunlight, and nervous and
worried Brethren about the communitybreathed a small sigh of
relief - but not one Mason felt this would be the last of this
ordeal, and each silently braced himself for more to come.  There
was no relaxation or confidence.

George Freygang spoke with the Senior Steward, and related to him
how his almost-lavish home had been completely stripped of
everything masonic.  But despite his ordeal, he spoke in almost
amusing terms as he described his long internment, stating that
the treatment he and the others received had been firm, but
civil.  While Brothers France and Bays had borne up well under
the pressure and strain of interrogation, Blaufelder reportedly
evidenced signs of anxiety attacks, crying repeatedly.  His
companions wondered if he would be cracking under the strain. 
The Arab groundskeeper had been released within a short time,
they having satisfied themselves that he was not part of the
organization.  Freygang also related that the questioning had
been minute, and involved every conceivable detail that appeared
susprct to the Saudis.

As one example, some of the words in the ritual were represented
by little astericks.  The major had questioned this.  What was
the meaning of the six-pointed star?  Was it perhaps Jewish or
Israeli?  Was that somthing connected to Zionism?  (This writer
wonders what the reaction would have been had some typesetter
back in New York elected to use a five-pointed asterick; would
the questioning have been more animated?)

At the termination of the month-long interrogation, the major,
satisfied there was no threat to his religion or his nation,
surprised George Freygang by asking him, of all things, how one
could become a Mason!

Already aware that George Freygang was also a member of the
Shrine, the Saudi Secret Police surprised the membership by
asking if they could again provide security for the next Shrine-
sponsored 4th of July celebration!  Oh, the irony and paradox of
the Middle East!  To the misinformed Arabs, Shriners meant good
and generous;  but the Freemasons were suspect!  If they only
knew!

Some time later, Blaufelder and the Senior Steward spoke more
than once about the shock and the sickening effect of the entire
affair.  The expatriate German, while trying hard to retain
composure, would visibly tremble as the topic was explored.  One
day, he quietly and nervously asked if the Senior Steward would
come to his villa to pick up the forgotten coffeemaker.  The
Coffeemaker!  Of course!

To drive out to the villa was a trip filled with some concern; 
fear of the unknown.  The villa interior was still filled with
flowers.  The paintings for sale still lined the corridor.  But
the once Masonic Lodge was now used as an art workroom, filled
with large tables and silkscreen equipment.  Now, staring sadly
at the spot where the altar had been, anger and hurt swelling-up
within him, the Steward wondered what had happened to it. 
"Dammit!", he thought, "They got every bit of it, including the
three Great Lights!"

"I have something you should keep...", Blaufelder almost
whispered through his thick German accent.  Retrieving a slender
metal rod from under a stack of prints, he handed it to the
Steward who, surprised, exclaimed "The baton!"  Examining it and
rolling it gently in his hand he stood as if transfixed, silently
visualizing Brother Joe Bays sporting that baton under his arm
with an air of dignified authority as he escorted people about
the open Lodge room.  Wrapped in memory, he thought he could hear
the words and the gavel raps of the Worshipful Master and the
Wardens, as faint echoes - as ghosts that refuse to die.

Turning to leave, the Steward saw a tall, frail lady standing
silently in the doorway, staring at him with a cold, unwavering
look.  Neither spoke.  Stepping out into the bright sunshine, he
grinned happily and said, "No, they didn't get everything.  I've
got one baton;  a memory."

                            EPILOGUE

"Sediki" is Arabic, roughly translated meaning `friendly' or
`friend'.  One Elmo Everett of Razorback, Arkansas is reputed to
have originated the use of the word as a reference to ethyl
alcohol.

Al Shipley, now retired and living in Burbank, California, was
employed by a large construction company during his stay in
Saudi.

George Freygang was employed by a well-known aircraft company. 
Deported from Saudi Arabia soon after the incident, he lived for
a time in Greece and Spain before returning to the States, where
he now lives in Port Charlotte, Florida.

Jesse France demitted to a California Lodge in late 1986, and is
presumed to be still residing in California.

Joe Bays' present whereabouts is unknown, although he did contact
the Grand Lodge at one time after leaving Saudi Arabia.

Bro. Blaufelder's present whereabouts is unknown, he having made
no attempt to contact the Grand Lodge or progress further since
1977.

Jim Krohn, the author and the Senior Steward in this story, has
been residing in Longmont, Colorado, where he has been putting
his talents to work in various masonic organizations.  We hope he
concurs with the editing and slight rewrite done in preparing his
personal story of the raid on Red Sea Lodge for publication by
the ACGL.

Attempts to contact many of the members of the Lodge have been
futile, as all of the records were confiscated and duplicate
address files had not been provided to the Grand Lodge office. 
Many personally contacted the Grand Lodge to ensure their
continued good standing, and each receives monthly mail from the
Grand Lodge.

One last word:  The current whereabouts of the baton still
remains a mystery.  Jim Krohn reportedly passed it "personally to
the Grand Master" sometime in 1979, but to date, diligent inquiry
has failed to turn up the only tangible piece of masonic
equipment known to have survived the infamous raid on Red Sea
Lodge No. 919.