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At 6:35 p.m., Ochiai found that the oxygen supply for the mouth masks had run out, but she had no difficulty breathing. The aircraft's purser now told the passengers that there was an emergency. Ochiai helped the on-duty attendants instruct the passengers on how to strap on their life preservers and assume a head-down, forward-leaning position for a possible crash landing. Then, she said, the plane went into a Dutch roll, dipping one wing, then the other. Apparently, Captain Takahama was trying to steer the aircraft by alternately increasing power to the left and the right engines. The maneuver produced a yawing and rolling motion as though Flight 123 were cutting figure-eights in the sky.
At 6:40 p.m., Ochiai was surprised to see Mount Fuji out a left window. "I thought the plane was heading back to Haneda," she said. Actually, radar operators saw the aircraft make a wide circle at this point, fully 360°, near Japan's sacred mountain, which was far north of the planned course to Osaka.
The 747 was not sticking to a steady course, and at 6:46 p.m., the dire message came again from the cockpit: "Uncontrol." Replied Tokyo: "Do you want to communicate with Haneda?" The answer, now in a loud voice: "Yes, please!" The craft was tracked at 11,700 ft. and had slowed to 299 m.p.h. One minute later, Flight 123 asked for the heading into Haneda, adding, "Uncontrollable." Tokyo's reply: "Maintain magnetic 90 degrees. Can you control?" The by now familiar answer: "Uncontrollable." The craft was down to 9,850 ft. By 6:49 p.m., the 747 had dropped to 7,880 ft., and now came the first clear sound of fear from the cockpit. "Waaah!" a crew member shouted into the microphone, an exclamation of surprise and alarm in Japanese. Mysteriously, the aircraft began climbing again, to 9,160 ft. Captain Takahama was apparently fighting for altitude. By 6:54 p.m. the 747 had reached 11,400 ft. and was 55 miles northwest of Haneda. Advised of this location, a crewman responded, "Roger." It was to be the last transmission.
A minute later, the plane was advised, "Haneda and Yokota both ready. You can start landing procedures any time." Yokota, a U.S. air base, had already been told by Tokyo air-traffic control, as had Haneda, to be prepared for an emergency landing. But there was no reply from Flight 123.
On the ground, Keiichi Yamazaki heard the unusual sound of an airliner above his home in Nippara, a remote mountain village. "All of a sudden, a big air plane appeared from between mountains, just like out of no where," he recalled. "Four times it leaned to the left, and each time it tried to recover its balance to the right. It was flying just like a staggering drunk."
In the cabin, Ochiai had strapped herself into her seat. "The plane started dropping at a sharp angle, almost vertically," she recalled. "Soon there were two or three very sharp impacts, and seats and cushions all around me came tumbling down on me. I was covered with seats, and I couldn't move. I suffered a piercing pain in my stomach. Finally, I was able to unfasten my seatbelt, but I found myself trapped between seats, and I could not move at all."