Alien Agenda
Why They Came
Why They Stayed
By Steve Peek
CHAPTER ONE
My name is James Sanford Tate. I am old but healthy. I am an only child. When I had friends they called me Jim. My wife died two years ago: cancer. Our only child was killed in Afghanistan, so I am without living relatives. I spent a career working for the government. Beginning at Naval Intelligence, my path wound through the Pentagon, the CIA, NSA, Congress, and groups you will never hear about. When I retired a black SUV followed me home. It was never far away. Three years ago I buried the family dog, a fifteen-year-old retriever named Crypto then vanished into Mexico and have been moving ever since. So far I have stayed ahead of the SUV, sometimes by only a few minutes. I expect someday that will change. While none of this has anything to do with you, my story does. I will begin in the middle.
It is around 0100 hours on 22 May, 1949. A fifty-seven-year-old man in room 1618 sits at a table reading and copying part of Ajax, a play by Sophocles. In the play, the battle of Troy is over. Ajax swears revenge because the armor of the fallen Achilles has been given to Odysseus instead of Ajax. The reader finds irony in the poetry.
He hears the man sleeping in the adjoining room. It is Dr. Robert Deen, assistant to his attending physician, Dr. George Raines. Dr. Deen mumbles something then rolls over and is silent. Dr. Deen’s room shares a bathroom with room 1618 in the hospital.
The man hears something else. He stops writing in mid word, stands up, then walks to each of the three windows in his room, carefully checking to see they are securely locked. The windows in Room 1618 are large. Though the room is on the sixteenth floor, he has lately added windows to a growing list of fears. Dr. Raines tells him that fear of windows is new to the psychiatric vernacular and does not yet have a name. He is not afraid of the windows themselves, but rather what is on the other side. He cannot share this with the good doctor. Not because Dr. Raines would think him more ill than he is, but because the doctor does not have the proper security clearance.
He pauses and looks down at the open book. What is Ajax to do? He has been loyal, he fought with the best. Only the dead sacrificed more, and his reward is humiliating betrayal. He sees only two choices: suicide or revenge.
The man puts his finger alongside his twice-broken nose and rubs the ancient wound. His tight lips barely move, and no one is there to see the slight smile he almost never shows. He knows what Ajax should have done.
His expression returns to its natural state: unreadable, devoid of humor, a hint of menace. He’s feeling hungry and moves toward the kitchen across the hall. Hunger is a good sign. He has gained twelve pounds since checking into Bethesda Naval Hospital fifty days ago. He has also gained strength, physical and mental, and will soon play his own Ajax.
The kitchen is small. A refrigerator, sink, table with four chairs, and cupboard cabinets make it crowded. There is a short, iron radiator beneath a small window. The window is open. This is bad, he thinks, very bad.
Just after 1:00 AM the seventh-floor night nurse hears a thump from outside but does not check. At 1:50 AM the attendant checks Room 1618 and finds the patient missing. He is remarkably calm considering this is his first night working at the hospital. The staff is roused and the search begun.
At 1:50 AM they find the body directly below the kitchen window on the roof of a three-story wing of the hospital. One end of the robe’s belt is knotted tightly around his neck. Within one hour the Maryland County Coroner confirms the death a suicide. The theory is he tied the other end of the belt to the radiator, crawled through the small window, and jumped. The knot at the radiator must have come undone and now America’s first Secretary of Defense, James Forrestal, is dead. The Navy concluded an investigation into his death on 31 May, but refused to release any information until 12 October. Even then there was no mention of cause of death, only exoneration of the parties present. No one was to blame.
A few people whispered suspicions about Forrestal’s death. His brother Henry had fought hard to visit him and, after several denials, finally won a brief visit then, after threatening legal action, made arrangements to take his brother to a private hospital on 24 May. Forrestal’s long-time friend and priest, Monsignor Sheehy—also denied visitation rights—swears that, at Forrestal’s funeral, the regular hospital orderly for Room 1618 told him in hushed tones the death was not an accident. Dr. Raines measured the length of cloth belt, the distance from the radiator to the window, and saw the absurdity of Forrestal attempting to hang himself in this particular location. He also knew about Forrestal’s fear of windows. Even so, he kept his mouth shut.
Why James Vincent Forrestal suffered a nervous breakdown and committed suicide is not an official mystery. The stress of unifying the US military with severely restricted budgets in the face of the growing Soviet threat would have cracked most men.
Then again, Forrestal wasn’t most men. A first-generation Irish-American who worked his way from a poor family in rural New York through Princeton University then to one of the top trading houses on Wall Street had to have something special. Though living the good life, he went off to fight as a naval pilot in World War I. His superiors saw his dogged determination and intelligence, and he worked his way up the ranks, eventually becoming Secretary of the Navy, and finally ending his illustrious career as America’s first Secretary of Defense, chosen so because he was exactly the right man at the right time to prepare the United States and the world to deal with something far worse than the growing Communist menace.
To know why such a man might have cracked, we need to start in 1943. We need to begin four years before President Truman radioed Washington from his plane instructing that Forrestal be sworn in immediately and be available to meet with Air Force General Twining on 23 September regarding an urgent matter.
CHAPTER TWO
I am involved in all of this because I had a very unusual security clearance.
Let’s talk about security clearances. Just because a person has a high level clearance doesn’t mean they know much. It’s sometimes the opposite. On assignment you may be expected to know every detail of a very narrow topic, but when your boss’s bosses decide something you think is relevant isn’t, then you cannot access what could be vital pieces to your puzzle. They call it compartmentalization. You are only allowed to know what you absolutely have to know. Someone above you is supposed to connect information between the compartments: the bigger the secrets, the more compartmentalization.
Compartmentalization is intended to prevent individuals from knowing more than their security clearance warrants; oaths are intended to keep people from revealing what they know. Everyone with a security clearance takes an oath. In theory, the oath-taker vows never to intentionally or unintentionally, under threat of death or during torture, break the oath. In a perfect world this would be sufficient. In our world it’s a little more involved.
There are oaths and then there are oaths. If a Boy Scout breaks an oath, he might lose a merit badge; a postal worker who doesn’t deliver in rain might lose his job, a doctor the license to practice. These are nonconsequential oaths. Swearing to serve in the US military puts a little bite in the oath. At this point, you accept military rules, regulations, and laws. If you are late for work and your boss is an asshole, you may be charged with Article Fifteen. Article Fifteen is a military catch-all infraction that basically says so long as the punishment is not too severe, your superior asshole who happens not to like you can make you work extra duty, or you can choose a court-martial. If you do something really horrible, like fall asleep while guarding a trash dump, you might even serve prison time. If the trash dump is in a combat zone, you might be executed for napping.
An oath with teeth—that’s exactly what is needed to prevent people working on secret projects from letting top-secret cats out of government bags. If convicted of a security breach, a person may be imprisoned or executed. This, of course, crawls through a legal labyrinth and threatens the possibility of further secrets being disclosed, and exposure and embarrassment to organizations that technically do not exist. Somewhere along the line someone realized a fleet of black SUVs is a more efficient way to dispense swift justice to oath breakers.
The boss of the SUVs, the Dispatcher, does not decide who an SUV visits. He merely accepts the call, evaluates the circumstances, decides which Driver to assign, and sets events in motion. Black SUV Drivers come in all shapes and sizes. The team that visited James Forrestal on the 16th floor of the hospital were black operatives of the CIA, NSA, or any of a number of acronyms that do not exist in any documentation available to the public, congress or, in some cases, even presidents (plausible deniability is a precious thing in Senate hearings.) On the other end of the spectrum are the people who are not on agencies’ payrolls. They are civilians, freelance thugs, hired by more important thugs who themselves are hired by voices on a phone. No one in this business accepts checks or credit cards. So the backbone of making sure people take oaths seriously is a fleet of SUVs.
The SUV system worked so well that one day, someone started worrying about the possibility of someone breaching security. They were apparently successful in making their point, and authorized the Dispatcher to send a preemptive visit. The Secretary of Defense, Forrestal, did not actually break an oath. He died because someone was afraid he might. Forrestal is not the only case of preemptive strikes to preserve national secrets. Not by a long shot—across a grassy knoll.
Everyone who works with ultra-sensitive information is aware of this system. They don’t know the details. What they do know is if you have access to top secrets, you are watched. If you become a person of interest, your every movement and conversation is recorded. If you become a possible threat, you will probably be dead within a year.
How you die is based on how you live. It might be a heart attack, a traffic accident, an overdose, or a suicide. It depends on what works for you. Aren’t they considerate? Only in the most extreme cases will someone be killed in a way that raises suspicions of foul play.
Let’s say you work with ultrasensitive data and you are developing twangs of conscience. You think it is in the greater good to make this information public. Let’s go a step further and say you recently found out you are dying of cancer and have a year to live. What’s to stop you from coming forward? Nothing unless you have a family: children, grandchildren, spouses, parents, siblings, and pets—it’s all roadkill to the men who drive SUVs.
No one knows about all this when they take their oath, but everyone figures it out. So at this level there are more than teeth in the oath.
In 1970 I was a Scribe. Scribes create white-paper documents and summaries when two or more compartmentalized top secrets are connected. Needless to say, there are never many Scribes.
In the old days we reported only to the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. Today it is much more political, the lines of power blurred. We can work almost anywhere there is a secure Internet connection, but in the 70s we worked mostly in the Pentagon or Langley with TDY assignments to military bases when we needed to see something first hand. We travel under fake identities when we leave the United States.
Obviously, the few Scribes do not suffer as much compartmentalization. We do suffer constant scrutiny in every aspect of our lives. We have access to the most terrifying information available, and will be eliminated in the blink of an eye if suspected of dreaming about breaching the oath.
You might say being a Scribe is a dead-end job. Once you are assigned to it, there’s no place else to go. Scribes go in, but they don’t come out. It is a lifetime assignment.
I happened to be one of the Scribes on duty when I fell into this mess, of which Forrestal’s death is only the tip of the iceberg.
Harry Parcel—a fellow Scribe—and I completed cleansing the Roswell documents when our boss called. I was given the new assignment for two reasons: I was up to speed on Roswell, and typed faster than Harry.
This begins the tale that led to what now seems the inconsequential death of James Forrestal. Now hear this.
The urgent matter that caused Forrestal to be hastily sworn in as Secretary of Defense in 1947 began during World War II with something called the Philadelphia Experiment. I was not part of that project, but nine years later was assigned to the official files as they related to the Roswell Incident.
There is almost always some truth in a myth. The popular Philadelphia Experiment legend contains only three truths: there was an experiment involving a ship in Philadelphia.
In 1955, Dr. Morris Jessup (he never obtained his PhD, but liked to be called doctor) wrote a book titled A Case for UFOs. A reader, Carlos Allende, wrote Jessup claiming while aboard a ship in August, 1943 he witnessed an experiment at the Philadelphia shipyard in which Destroyer 173, the USS Eldridge, was made to vanish in a green fog. When it reappeared 11 minutes later, the crew suffered nightmarish effects from invisibility. Over the next few years, Jessup worked with Allende (whose real name was Carl Allen). Jessup concluded the Philadelphia Experiment was a secret project— using Einstein’s Unified Field Theory—that went wrong. In 1959, while driving to visit a friend, Jessup apparently and quite suddenly decided life was not so great, turned around, went back to his garage, ran a hose from his exhaust to inside his car, and died. Those inclined to conspiracy theories maintain Jessup’s death was one of those early demises brought on by the men who drive black SUVs. Of course the alleged suicide added fuel to the strange tale, and when Charles Berlitz’s book on the Philadelphia Experiment became a bestseller the story went national. Dozens of articles and books, as well as television shows and movies, have covered the subject. Today, clear thinking people recognize the Philadelphia Experiment story as a successful media hoax.
It doesn’t take much research to discover the USS Eldridge was elsewhere during the time the experiment supposedly took place. Diehards claimed the Navy simply changed the Eldridge’s log, but when numerous other ships’ logs mentioned her in company, those conspiracy fans acknowledged maybe it was not the Eldridge but another ship. God knows how they came up with the name, but they claimed it was the Timmerman, another destroyer. The Timmerman was in Philadelphia as part of an experiment to amplify electronic degaussing being used to make ships hulls less likely to detonate magnetic mines.
I suspect an admiral or two sweated bullets when the Timmerman’s name came up. I am told it is mentioned in some of Jessup’s notes, and in his uncompleted manuscript—which officially never existed.
My new assignment was about to teach me what really happened. I sat at a table with pen, pad, typewriter, and a document box labeled Project Rainbow: Events Preceding 8 July, 1947.
Now hear this!
Prior to entering World War II, the US had a secret weapon—the magnetic torpedo. It targeted a ship’s own magnetic field to detonate directly beneath the keel, accomplishing the destructive work of two or three torpedoes exploding upon striking the side of the target. By 1942, it was obvious German submarines had a similar weapon.
While the magnetically detonated torpedo remained classified until well after World War II, the existence of magnetic mines was common knowledge. Unlike contact mines, they did not have to touch the ship to detonate. The Navy wanted a way to neutralize both these weapons.
While mines were a threat to allied shipping, they were of minor concern compared to torpedoes. The numbers of ships lost to each type of weapon makes this extremely clear. The Navy had already demonstrated minor success against magnetic mines by degaussing ships, but it wasn’t close to perfect, and it had no effect on torpedoes. The idea was to create one device that could counter both.
Making a ship invisible to a magnetic proximity fuse would certainly do the trick. If the ship’s magnetic field could be eliminated, the torpedoes would speed beneath the surface until they ran out of fuel then sink harmlessly to the bottom. All the same, the method would be extremely expensive if it were intended to protect thousands of small freighters, each of which would have to be fitted with its own electronic array of magnetic invisibility equipment.
The Navy took a more efficient approach. We wanted to fit warships with an electrical apparatus that projected a strong magnetic field some distance around the ship—a field strong enough to detonate magnetic proximity fuses a hundred yards from intended targets. If this idea worked, destroyer escorts—ringing a convoy of dozens of merchant vessels—could protect the entire group from the threat of magnetic torpedoes at a fraction of the cost of fitting every merchantman with its own device.
With this in mind, the Navy enlisted the best brains in the country, including Mr. E=MC 2 himself. But the team’s real genius was Richard Feynman (pronounced Fineman). He was a brilliant young physicist working with the Manhattan Project to develop the atomic bomb. Einstein said he would be invaluable on the Rainbow team. Einstein received what he wanted, and he wanted Feynman because when it came to electronics there was no one better. After the war, Feynman won a Noble Prize for his work on quantum electrodynamics.
On 28 March, 1943 the team from Rainbow presented their theory and recommendations for stage-one experiments. The Navy went to work obtaining or creating machines, and began looking for a ship: enter the USS Hambleton.
The destroyer was designated DD-455, and entered service at Norfolk, Virginia on 31 January, 1942. 28 October she joined the Western Naval Task Force and participated in the invasion of French Morocco. On 11 November a U-boat torpedo struck the Hambleton amidships on the port side. Damage control parties kept her afloat, and she was towed to Casablanca for emergency repairs. Seabees cut the ship in two, removed a 40-foot section of damaged hull, then joined the two remaining halves together. Tended by a skeleton crew and escorted by a tug, Hambleton reached Boston on 28 June, 1943 for permanent repairs.
There the Hambleton received special attention. Under the guise of rushing this heroic ship back into the war, for propaganda reasons her repairs went round the clock, with extra workers to further accelerate the work. In the finishing stages of repair she was fitted with unusual electrical machinery.
On the night of 1 August, 1943, still missing 40 feet of length, she left Boston and proceeded to Philadelphia. She had been temporarily renamed and numbered: the USS Timarron, DE-173. On 12 August, about the time Carl Allen—a.k.a. Carlos Allende—claims to have seen the Eldridge vanish, he may have seen a greenish coronal effect caused by her massive generators. Or more likely he wasn’t there, and remembered the date and ship’s name wrong because he heard the story secondhand.
Either way, the experiment failed. A series of electronic proximity fuses suspended at various depths beneath the Hambleton’s keel failed to detonate. Perhaps the fuses were not sensitive enough, but this failure was of little consequence. Something else happened. The ship was surrounded by devices measuring the magnetic field during the experiment. Each magnetometer reported the exact readings. As the generators increased power, the field’s strength grew outward from the ship, then—as the power reached maximum—the field collapsed into itself.
Einstein and Feynman understood the theoretical ramifications, and recommended Project Rainbow be placed in Alamogordo, New Mexico with the Manhattan Project, where further research would be conducted as progress on the atomic bomb permitted.
The Hambleton sailed back to Boston to complete repairs. She was assigned a new crew and sent to serve in the Mediterranean before D-Day and no one was the wiser.
Work on the atomic bomb was the priority. Almost nothing happened with Rainbow until after the A-bomb was tested. On 16 July, 1945, Gadget —the nickname for the first A-bomb—was detonated at what became known as the White Sands Missile Range. One week later a team was officially assigned to explore the results of the Project Rainbow Experiment.
Richard Feynman was a physicist’s physicist. While he won a Noble Prize for quantum electrodynamics, he was also a genius in other areas, like particle theory and the growing field of quantum physics. But like many of the other prominent members of the Manhattan Project, he seemed to have had his fill of secret projects, and returned to universities and private research. Feynman did not stay with Project Rainbow to completion, but he contributed heavily in solving theoretical problems.
On 6 January, 1947, the Project Rainbow team tested the device unexpectedly born from the Philadelphia Experiment. Looking like a cannon of metal rods wrapped in dense coils, it was intended to project a focused, electromagnetic field that disabled electronic circuitry the same way as the electromagnetic pulse (EMP) from a nuclear explosion, but without all the fire and death. It worked. While it would be years before it was perfected, the team increased its power, range, and accuracy over the next few months.
Then one day in June some scientists decided to play with the new gun. It went off and triggered the biggest event in human history.
CHAPTER THREE
If the Philadelphia Experiment was media dynamite, the Roswell Incident detonated a nuclear blast for UFO phenomena. For every word printed about the Philadelphia Experiment, ten thousand have appeared about Roswell.
So much has been written, recorded, and filmed that it is impossible to sort out the details of the events on and after Friday, 20 June, 1947. Between conspiracy theorists, UFO nuts, and government-issued disinformation, there are too many trails crisscrossing too many muddied creeks for even the best bloodhound to follow. But then again, there is always some truth to every myth.
Creating the official summary and cleansing the Roswell Incident documents led to my work on the Philadelphia Experiment. I was never personally involved in any of the activities surrounding Roswell, but it is possible that I know more about what really happened than any person alive. One of the reasons for this is that the 1947 versions of black SUVs rolled up heavy mileage over the next three years. Now hear this!
Around four o’clock on the afternoon of 20 June, 1947, two technicians tasked with recovering the truck-mounted Project Rainbow EMF Projector, and another truck fitted with generators, decided to play. They cranked up the power and fired a series of beams skyward.
After fifteen minutes, the junior geniuses shut the projector down and secured the equipment for the drive to the garage. They were oblivious to the consequences of their fun until Friday, 8 August, when CIC investigators cornered them in their lab.
It had taken over a month of strange occurrences and high alerts for anyone to suspect activities at Alamogordo had anything to do with the Roswell Incident. Once the Alamogordo think tank connected the Roswell crash with Project Rainbow, it did not take long to determine the projector had a missing fifteen minutes of use in the log, which led to the fun seekers.
Ninety-six hours later, they were allowed to go home: unwashed, unshaven, but not unwarned. They were never allowed to speak of the incident again. The irony is that they had no idea why they were questioned. Other than the coronal and charged effects of close proximity to the electromagnetic device, they had seen or heard nothing. If the Minutemen of Concord fired the shot heard round the world, these guys fired the shot heard through the multiverse. Oh yes, during the next three years, both died of stroke. They would have lived longer had it not been for a rancher named Mac Brazel.
Following a night of thunderstorms, Mac Brazel went out on Saturday, 21 June to check the livestock on the Foster Ranch in Corona, New Mexico, 75 miles northwest of Roswell. Mac found a large area containing debris, picked some up, and carried it back to the line house he lived in while working for Mr. Foster. The next day he visited his nearest neighbors, the Proctors, and told them about the debris. They told him he should show the material to Chaves county sheriff, George Wilcox.
Priorities in Corona are different than those in big cities. It was a long trip to the sheriff’s office, so Brazel decided to wait until after the July 4 holiday and see the sheriff while in Roswell on other business.
On the afternoon of 6 July, Brazel shows the debris and tells his story to Sheriff Wilcox. Wilcox calls the nearby Roswell Army Airfield and conveys the story to Major Jesse Marcel, base intelligence officer. Marcel’s boss, Colonel William Blanchard, authorizes Marcel to investigate the field of debris. 7 July, accompanied by Captain Sheridan Cavitt and Mac Brazel, Marcel leads the group in gathering up as much of the debris as possible, then returns to Roswell Army Airfield. 8 July, Colonel Blanchard calls General Roger Ramey to initiate a search and recovery operation on the Foster Ranch. Later, Blanchard authorizes a press release announcing the military has found a crashed flying disc.
Within minutes of this news reaching the Pentagon, General Ramey receives a call from General Twining telling him exactly what to say and do. The press release is retracted with a new story—the debris is from a weather balloon.
A twenty-mile square centered in the Foster Ranch debris field is cordoned off by military police on 9 July.
11-25 July the military conducts a search-and-recovery operation using aircraft, military intelligence officers, and a handful of civilians from Alamogordo.
Several truckloads of recovered material arrive at Alamogordo on 27 July. The material is processed, divided into four groups, and dispersed under secrecy.
Group one consists of pieces that may potentially be debris from weapons. This is flown to Forth Worth, Texas, placed on a transport aircraft, and flown to Wright-Patterson Field in Ohio. The second group incorporates all pieces that have higher radiation readings than the wreckage in general. This material is trucked to Las Vegas Army Airfield.
Group three is composed of wreckage consistent with aerodynamics and may have been essential to flight. It found its way to Camp Cooke, located 150 miles north of Los Angeles. The last group remains at Alamogordo and includes items from across the other groups, as well as anything ‘of scientific interest.’
Knowing to which place each group was taken is significant.
Wright-Patterson Field eventually became Wright-Patterson Air Force Base, and is the primary place where captured enemy aircraft are studied and new weapons are conceived, designed, built, and tested.
Las Vegas Army Airfield was part of the Nevada Test Site (NTS), where radiation from nuclear tests was studied and measured. It consisted of 14,000 square acres and 10,000 square miles of restricted airspace. The base had been deactivated in January, 1947 but the NTS portion remained operational. Mysteriously, the base was reactivated in January, 1948 and renamed Nellis Air Force Base in 1950.
Camp Cooke, California contained the military’s highest maximum security prison. When Camp Cooke was deactivated in 1946, the prison continued to house the military’s most recalcitrant prisoners. Camp Cooke was also reactivated in August, 1950 as Cooke Air Force Base and given the mission and designation as Air Research & Development Command. One of its primary objectives included atypical and non-winged flight. It was renamed Vandenberg Air Force Base in 1958.
Between July, 1947 and the end of 1950, these bases each received numerous shipments of secret cargo.
Thus ends the official report of the Roswell Incident. It is worth noting that Major Marcel, the Roswell Army Airfield intelligence officer who ‘confused’ the debris of a downed weather balloon with that of a flying saucer, received the highest possible marks on his efficiency reports from Colonel Blanchard and General Ramey in 1948. In 1949 he received notice of transfer to work in the Pentagon’s top secret Special Weapons Program. It would seem the military was very forgiving of his terrible mistake.
This is also the conclusion of the first box of documents’ contents. The second report—titled Project Rainbow Phase II: Events from July 1947 to August 1952—begins a new chapter in human history.
CHAPTER FOUR
Twenty-four hours after interrogating the lads who played with the EMF projector, radar installation crews and equipment were on their way to Roswell Field. In less than a week, field radar units were up and running at Roswell, Corona, and Alamogordo.
Prior to World War II, radar was not very accurate or dependable. It was so crude the radar at Pearl Harbor misinterpreted hundreds of Japanese attack craft as a small flight of B-17s. One thing about war, it’s the best jump-start to improve weapons and defenses. By the end of World War II, antisubmarine aircraft were fitted with three-centimeter radar that could pick up a one-foot diameter U-boat snorkel riding ten feet above choppy waves. Granted, radar in 1947 was nowhere near what it is today, but it could distinguish targets of different sizes, speeds, and altitudes.
Throughout 1947, the military radar stations in and around the Four Corners states made dozens of contacts with unknown objects. Military pilots had reported numerous sightings of disc, cylindrical, and triangular shaped craft. While UFOs were officially born when civilian pilot Kenneth Arnold reported seeing flying saucers near Mt. Rainier in June, 1947, the military had been scratching their heads for months over the mysterious invaders of US airspace.
And not just any airspace: Alamogordo and the atomic-bomb test site were secret enough, but at the time, the squadron of B-29s stationed at Roswell Field possessed the world’s only nuclear arsenal.
Once operational, the radar at all three locations began picking up images that suddenly appeared on their screen at mid distances, traveled at speeds up to six times military aircraft capabilities, made impossible maneuvers, and vanished mid screen as mysteriously as they appeared. Many of the contacts moved in a ‘Z’ pattern while on radar.
The ‘Z’ flight pattern is a standard procedure for searching an area with a single aircraft. The boys in Washington knew what they searched for. They had it and planned to find more.
The brains of the Manhattan Project were called upon to theorize what was taking place. The teams still working at Alamogordo worked in groups; the others, who had dispersed to more normal lives of science, worked remotely and communicated through military couriers and liaisons. Not surprisingly, it was Richard Feynman who provided the connection.
The brain trust began with these questions: what are they? Why are they here now? Why do they cluster in this area?
After examining the evidence, Feynman formed a theory. Feynman’s answers to the primary questions were dead-on.
The craft, manned or unmanned, were from a place—or places—other than Earth.
Feynman’s answers to the other questions perfectly connected all three. Based on the number of craft and their capabilities, he reasoned that the crafts’ owners were not new to existence. Because they previously existed and clearly had the ability to visit our planet, but heretofore had not visited as often or as openly, something changed to attract them. Feynman felt the change was obvious—the detonation of nuclear explosives.
In 1947 there had been only five: the Trinity Test of the Manhattan Project, the destruction of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, and two test blasts in the Pacific during Operation Crossroads. In addition to offering a greater threat to global stability than any other man made event in human history, the unleashed atom touched the fabric of our universe. It was the effect on the universal fabric that Feynman believed attracted the visitors who flashed on and off radar screens and zipped ‘Z’ patterns over a desert containing the world’s most active nuclear program.
So, they were not from this Earth, they were here now because of nuclear explosions, and they were in this area because of active nuclear research and programs. Just as everyone in Alamogordo was collectively nodding yes and wondering how Richard always made things look so obvious and easy, Feynman bowed out of active participation in the project.
The next questions for Team Genius were: what exactly about nuclear explosives attracted the intruders? Where did they most likely come from?
Again, answering the first question led to answering the second. A nuclear detonation is an instant release of energy. The energy manifests in an explosion as light, heat, sound, shockwave, and radiation. While catastrophic, all are regional to a degree. None provide a global impact. The light, heat, and radiation may be detectable within our solar system. Even if an element of the nuclear explosions on Earth could have been detected on the nearest star, it would have taken four years to reach there. Since the bombs were detonated in 1945 and 1946, the earliest any sign could have been noticed would have been 1949. So unless the owners of the uninvited vehicles could travel back in time, their appearance in 1947 made it seem unlikely they were stellar neighbors. [interesting point DC]
A collective ‘hmmmmm?’ sounded among the scientists as this realization set in. Then the Rainbow Team had a eureka moment. There is another element of a nuclear explosion: a high intensity burst of electromagnetism. How and why would this attract the visitors?
In 1947, quantum physics was in its infancy. Only the brightest of the bright could wrap their minds around the concepts that would eventually evolve from theories to mathematical models to experiments providing proof.
The short history is this: in the 1930s, physicists gained the ability to test atomic particles. The problem was that, when tested, atomic particles weren’t. What were thought to be particles acted like waves, not matter. When tested as waves, they reverted to behaving like a particle. It seemed they shared their time between the two states, or in quantum speak—particle duality.
As time passed and science gained the ability to refine atomic particle testing, it was determined that, whether particle or wave, they didn’t exist at all. Well, they did exist, and then they didn’t. They blinked in and out of existence. This posed an enormous question to the brilliant people who studied the world of tiny atoms—where did they go?
During this same period of time, another group of brilliant people, who pondered the universe populated with billions of galaxies each filled with billions of stars, wondered, “Where did all this matter come from?”
Nearly fifty years after the events of 1947, the theories of these people, who studied the foundation of existence from opposite ends of the telescope, coalesced in an unsettling realization: for our universe to behave as it does, other universes must exist parallel to our own.
This story is not about quantum physics, string theory, super gravity, or the M-theory. The truth is we really don’t have many more facts than we did during the lives of the Manhattan Project team members. Today, top theorists argue passionately whether all things exist in ten or eleven dimensions. Some espouse, while others poo-poo, the concept of super gravity leaking between universes. Meanwhile, genius-level math proves ‘everything’ exists in a dimension filled with membranes that bump into each other as they undulate, and that every bump results in a new Big Bang that creates a new universe within the membrane. But just because scientists believe something, it ain’t necessarily so.
Here is what is so.
There are other dimensions, lots of them. There are more parallel worlds than there are angels on the head of a pin. The visitors at Roswell are from one of them. As fate often does, the ship at Roswell was in the wrong place at the wrong time.
The same Robert Oppenheimer who headed the Manhattan Project created the mathematical model in the 1930s that proved the probability of the existence of black holes. In addition to heading up the world’s first nuclear bomb program, Oppenheimer established himself as a leader in quantum field theory, relativistic quantum mechanics, and quantum tunneling. As destiny often does, he was the right person at the right place at the right time.
When Project Rainbow’s team understood their EMF Projector may have been responsible for downing the alien craft, they called upon Oppenheimer and Feynman again for help.
Project Rainbow’s projector beamed an inverse—or collapsed— electromagnetic field. Sometimes when a super-dense star collapses, it creates a black hole that emits an unbelievably powerful gravitational field, which sucks everything, including light, into it. The projector created something like a magnetic hole that would totally stop, disrupt, or burn out any electrical activity through which it passed. It passed through a UFO that afternoon in late June, 1947.
From the moment the military realized it had an effective weapon against the invaders of US airspace, the fear vaporized. The government decided it would not be content with the wreckage and salvage of one downed UFO. From 1947 to 1950, more Rainbow Projectors were built, and more alien craft were shot down for examination.
While UFO nuts list hundreds of ‘known’ crash sites, there have only been seven resulting from Rainbow Projectors.
The original was at Roswell. We recovered wreckage of two vehicles: a mother ship, and what appeared to be the UFO version of a lifeboat. No biological life-forms—deceased or otherwise—were found at the main crash site. Three deceased alien bodies were recovered near the lifeboat.
The second was a third type of craft, larger than the Roswell mother ship. It was the original projector’s second kill, and crashed near White Sands, New Mexico on 25 March, 1948. In addition to the wreckage, the recovery team recovered six corpses.
A third went down on 8 July, 1948 inside Mexico near Laredo, Texas. Same type of craft found at Roswell, but no lifeboat or bodies were recovered.
Number four crash-landed on 24 June, 1949 near Cloudcroft, New Mexico, about 25 miles east of Alamogordo. The Roswell vehicle type, with lifeboat, contained two deceased and one live occupant. The crash survivor died within hours of discovery.
The fifth vehicle was recovered from Death Valley, California, 19 August, 1949. Roswell type vehicle, no lifeboat, and no bodies found.
The final two went down at sea. The aircraft carrier, USS Franklin Delano Roosevelt, was fitted with a Rainbow Projector and has radar confirmation of downing two alien craft in the Atlantic Ocean.
For a while it was like shooting ducks. Then on 19 July, 1952, the ducks shot back.
CHAPTER FIVE
Once officials briefed Truman about Roswell and the belief we had an effective weapon, the government sprang into action. Have you heard of Majestic 12? Forget about it. It’s 90 percent false. The kernel of truth in this myth is that President Truman was made aware of the situation and authorized a group to study it.
The group was not majestic, and it was not twelve. Twelve civilian government officials can’t keep a secret, even in those post World War II days when America was flush with patriotism. Truman did instigate the creation of a public committee to study some handpicked reports of flying saucers and consider ‘theories’ and hypothetical cases. Known as the Robertson Panel or Report, a group of preselected, skeptical scientists convened 14-18 January, 1953 and were spoon-fed information by their CIA hosts. This august body quickly concluded UFOs were natural phenomena and a waste of time. But even this group was not created until after the ducks started returning fire.
Some of the men who sat on Truman’s real committee are named in Majestic Twelve documents; most are not. The only people beside Truman that knew the entire truth were:
.Secretary of Defense James Forrestal (Sworn in on 19 September 1947) (Kenneth C. Royal, was acting Secretary of War from 19 July 1947 until Forrestal was sworn in but was intentionally excluded from any knowledge of the Roswell Incident)
.Secretary of State George Marshall
.Secretary of State Dean Acheson (became Secretary of State in 1949)
.Director of Mutual Security Averill Harriman (position created in 1951)
.Chief of Staff USAF General Nathan Farragut Twining (Truman had promoted Twining to this position and ask him to make a study of UFOs. The preliminary finding of this study was presented to the select few on September 23, 1947.)
The final people included in this sensitive information were the Joint Chiefs of Staff. Below that level, compartmentalization created walls branching information into ever-narrowing streams, so groups and individuals had little hope of even guessing the scope of their work.
From this point, when I say government, I refer to the complex machine of political, judicial, bureaucratic, industrial, and military gears that wear down then crush all obstacles. When I say America, I speak of the people and private businesses that pay for the government’s pranks and shenanigans in exchange for a few highways.
Almost all of the documents supporting the existence of MJ-12 are fakes —some faked by wannabe investigators and some faked by the government to widen the false trail.
The Majestic Twelve name is probably a derivative of something else that occurred at this time. During this period, a new security clearance was born to deal with UFOs. It was called Magic. It was not necessarily the highest level, but you had to be cleared to see documents bearing the Magic level regardless of what other clearance you had. The intention was that no one would be made privy to Magic information without a compelling need to know, and a bare minimum of people could access Magic information at any one time.
The researchers working on the downed space vehicles were slowly learning and discovering new technologies. Project Rainbow became the highest priority and most secret program since the Manhattan Project. All in all, the UFO scare was turning out to be a pretty good thing. That is until the UFOs came calling on Washington.
CHAPTER SIX
June, 1952. New flying saucer sightings are down to less than 20 percent of what they were between the Roswell Incident and 1949. It’s a good sign for the few who know the truth. There’s no need for anyone to panic; work is progressing on reverse engineering components from downed UFOs. The ointment contains only one small fly: for the last two years, the Rainbow Projectors have failed to nail another alien intruder. No one is sure why. The number of aliens appearing on radar dropped off significantly in 1949, but even so, when one appears within range of a projector, it takes evasive action and is impossible to hit. But no one is worried. The boys at Alamogordo are staying up late to electronically connect the projectors to radar. It is only a matter of time before the balance of power swings back to our side.
Then, five years to the day the Roswell incident began, the visitors return in numbers. They come bearing an anniversary gift.
By mid June, the Air Force’s Project Blue Book investigation is receiving the highest number of reports ever. By July, UFOs are observed in every part of the USA.
In Ogdensburg, New York, groups of residents watched three jet planes circle and attempt to close with three shining objects for twenty minutes until the three objects simply vanished. Airport control towers begin picking the blips up on radar. Cleveland, Chicago, and Los Angeles all have numerous radar and visual sightings of objects that move too fast or too slow; that are too large; that make impossible maneuvers. Military, commercial, and private pilots see the strange ships more frequently than ever before. While they are everywhere, they seem clustered on the east coast a little too close to the nation’s capitol.
Those in the know sit in uncomfortable silence, waiting for a shoe to drop from the sky. They don’t wait long.
2108 Hours, 19 July, 1952
Four men work in the top floor of the dimly lit, glass-ringed control tower of the Washington National Airport. They operate the local radar, and direct airplanes taking off or making final approaches. Two floors below, a team of eleven men use the Air Route Traffic Control radar to manage all other aircraft within 100 miles. It is a slow time, and ten of the men are out of the radar room on break. As Ed Nugent mans the 24-inch scope, he glances at the clock, noting his break is in 22 minutes. When he looks back, seven new blips are on his radar screen. He studies them for a moment. They move in formation, not very fast, between 100 and 130 MPH at an altitude of approximately 1,700 feet. At 9:10 they do something impossible. Nugent estimates while maintaining airspeed of 130 MPH, they gain altitude at the rate of 35,000 feet per minute.
Ed rubs his eyes in disbelief. He checks the calibration of his equipment. Everything is fine. He calls his boss, Harry Barnes, and says jokingly, but only half, “Here’s a formation of flying saucers, Harry.”
Harry steps in, looks at the screen, and calls the technician in to check the equipment. Before he gives the thumbs-up, the rest of the men have come back in and are clustered around the three other screens in the room.
Harry picks up the intercom phone and buzzes the control tower.
Before Harry can say anything, Joe Zacko, another air-traffic controller working the short-range radar in the room above, asks, “Are you guys seeing what we are seeing? We’ve got seven on scope.”
Howard Conklin stands up and looks out the tower windows in the direction indicated by the radar. “There they are! There they are!” he says, pointing at the glowing objects that have changed course and are headed toward Andrews Air Force base.
Harry is up the stairs and in the control room in seconds. Seeing the objects, he picks up the intercom phone again and buzzes the air-traffic control tower at Andrews.
Andrews’ control tower has the objects, altitude 2,000 feet, moving toward them at approximately 150 MPH. Nervous telephone and radio communications fly between night-duty officers. No one wants to make a decision. Those who have been in the military understand—never wake up a general for something that can wait until tomorrow. Finally, around midnight, phones begin ringing up the chain of command.
At 1:30 AM, two F-94 Lockheed Starfires, America’s hottest in-service jet, scramble to provide close-visuals contact with the lights in the sky. The fighters streak over Washington. When they are five miles from their prey, the targets vanish from visual and radar. The jets circle for thirty minutes, then return to base.
At 2:30 AM, the objects appear again on radar, but without visual confirmation. By 3:00 AM they disappear for the night.
Below is the transcript of the article that appeared Monday, July 22, 1952 in the Washington Post (the newspaper article erroneously thought there had been eight UFOs):
8 on Screen; Planes Sight Odd Lights
The Air Force disclosed last night it has received reports of an eerie visitation by unidentified aerial objects—perhaps a new type of "flying saucer"—over the vicinity of the nation's capitol.
For the first time, so far as known, the objects were picked up by radar— indicating actual substance rather than mere light.
They were described as traveling at a slow 100 to 130 miles per hour— instead of the incredible speed attributed to earlier saucers—although at times they shot up and down.
The objects also were described as hovering in one position. The Air Force said no planes were sent out in an attempt to intercept the objects, and no sightings were reported by Operation Skywatch, the round-the-clock Civilian Defense ground observer operation now underway.
Preliminary Report
The Air Force said it has received only a preliminary report, and therefore does not know why no attempt at interception was made.
The air-traffic-control center at Washington National Airport reported its radar operators picked up eight of the slow-moving objects about midnight last Saturday. They were flying in the vicinity of nearby Andrews Air Force Base.
The center said Capital Airlines Flight 807, southbound from National Airport, reported seeing seven objects between Washington and Martinsburg, W. Va., at 3:15 AM the same night. Capital Airlines said the pilot, Capt. "Casey" Pierman of Detroit, 17 years with the company, described the objects in these words: "They were like falling stars without tails."
Picked up Blips
Company officials said the airport picked up radar "blips"—contact with aerial objects—and asked Capt. Pierman to keep a watch out for any unusual objects in the sky.
Shortly thereafter, officials said, Pierman reported back to the dispatcher's tower that he had spotted a group of objects. Pierman, then flying at normal cruising speed of 180 to 200 MPH, reported the objects were traveling with "tremendous vertical speed"—moving rapidly up and down— and then suddenly changing pace until they seemed to hang motionless in the sky.
Officials said Pierman made only a routine report of the incident.
The eight objects picked up by Air Force radar were said to be traveling slightly faster than 100 MPH. The airport traffic-control center, said another airliner, Capital-National Airlines Flight 610, reported observing a light following it from Herndon, Va. about 20 airline miles from Washington, to within four miles of National Airport. "This information has been related to the proper Air Force authorities and the Air Force is investigating the matter," the announcement said. Earlier, the Air Force said it is receiving flying saucer reports this summer at a rate of 100 a month, higher than at any time since the initial flood of sightings in 1947. END OF WASHINGTON POST, 22 JULY, 1952 ARTICLE
You can imagine the buzz running through Washington when the article appeared. This was not the first story the Post had run in recent days about flying saucers. There had been a rash of sightings from Maine to Virginia since the middle of June. Now they were flying in formation above our nation’s capitol.
Calls poured in to the Air Technical Intelligence Center, one of the Air Force's most highly specialized intelligence units, and headquarters of the Air Force’s UFO investigation. Embarrassingly, the ATIC’s first inkling of the UFO radar contacts was the article in the morning paper. No one involved in the incident had called them. Rather than provide a ‘no comment’, they rushed the Air Force’s senior UFO investigator to the scene.
Captain Edward J. Ruppelt was the first to head up the Air Force’s Project Blue Book. Blue Book evolved from the more ad hoc temporary investigations into UFOs: Projects Sign and Grudge.
Project Blue Book was launched in late 1947, and by 1952 Captain Ruppelt commanded four officers—two airmen and two civilians—on his permanent staff. Three scientists were under full-time contracts for Blue Book, and Major Fournet was the project liaison at the Pentagon. The vast majority of actual investigations were carried out by local intelligence officers all over the world.
Project Blue Book’s process when a sighting came in was that one or two local officers interviewed the witness and filled out a rather lengthy survey form developed for this specific purpose. The completed form not only helped the staff at Blue Book headquarters group reports by categories and subcategories, it also contained a number of booby-trap questions to establish the witness’s honesty and credibility. Aircraft pilots, radar operators, and military personnel were at the top of the credibility ladder, so virtually all reports from these sources found their way to Wright Patterson, home to the project.
In the case of less-credible witnesses, the field investigators used the survey and their interview to determine if the sighting was worth sending to headquarters.
In the four years between Project Blue Book’s creation and the summer of 1952, headquarters had processed 615 of these reports.
The team quickly learned that, by checking with military, government, and university agencies involved in aircraft, astronomy, weather, and scientific balloons, over 60 percent of the reports received had natural explanations. The rest were assigned a priority for a team member to follow up with phone calls or face-to-face interviews.
Up until 1952, there was no real sense of urgency for Project Blue Book to produce answers. Their mission was to investigate sightings. If they determined the sighting had a natural explanation, they made the information available. If the sighting could not be explained, it was kept secret. The nature of this process made it seem that Project Blue Book’s goal was to discredit all UFO sightings, as those were the only ones they talked about.
The lack of urgency was about to change.
By early June, the increased UFO activity around major cities and military bases made officials jumpy. It was determined that Blue Book needed to be moved up the organizational chart, and was elevated from group to section level to allow more support and clout within ATIC.
In June and July of 1952, field agents sent 717 reports to Ruppelt’s team, more than they had processed in the previous four years.
The irony of all this is that no one associated with ATIC or Blue Book knew anything about the truth of Roswell, the projector, or what was going on at Truman’s behest. The government’s primary UFO investigative body was completely in the dark. Compartmentalization is a beautiful thing.
Captain Ruppelt and his boss, Colonel Donald Bower, arrive in Washington to give a briefing at the Pentagon. The briefing does not go well.
A colonel from Air Defense Command is present. After sitting through Ruppelt’s explanation of how they rank and evaluate reports, and the statistical analysis of sightings, the colonel from ADC presses his point.
As the department title implies, the ADC is tasked with defending our skies. In the last few weeks there have been an unsettling number of encounters between Air Force jet fighters and UFOs. The jets try to close the distance to their targets to obtain in-focus, definitive film from their nose cameras. The jet pilots always lose. The UFOs either speed away, executing impossible maneuvers, or simply vanish. The best the pilots have been able to produce is a few feet of grainy film showing blurry lights four or five miles away.
The ADC is becomingly increasingly aware they are not able to defend our skies.
The colonel presses Ruppelt. Why, he wants to know, does Blue Book always assume the sighting is anything but a UFO? Why not investigate from the standpoint we are being invaded? He reasons this approach would produce more evidence of what UFOs really are.
No one at ADC has a clue about the truth of Roswell, the projectors, the downed saucers, or even the UFO reports that Blue Book is instructed to keep top secret within the group. Compartmentalization now has people working at cross purposes. The briefing deteriorated into a lively discussion of what should be done and how things should be investigated.
Numerous airplane pilots have seen strange things in the sky every day since the radar sightings on 19 July. The problem is growing, and the Air Force is trying to determine what, if anything, to tell the public.
The few in the know, the illuminati of Roswell, conducted numerous, nervous meetings. All existing projectors were ordered to military bases around Washington, and pressure to link the projector to radar-controlled firing was redoubled. But it was all too little, too late. At 10:30 PM, 26 July, all hell broke loose.
Below is a transcript of an article that appeared in the Washington Post on 29 July, 1952. Most of what is known to the public about these events is included. The scary part, the part that would panic Americans, is to this day the government’s most-guarded secret.
Seen by Radar and Eyes
‘Saucer’ Outran Jet, Pilot Says Air Force Puts Lid on Inquiry
By Paul Sampson Fort, Reporter
Military secrecy veils an investigation of the mysterious, glowing, aerial objects that showed up on radar screens in the Washington area Saturday night for the second consecutive week.
A jet pilot sent up by the Air Defense Command to investigate the latter objects reported he was unable to overtake glowing lights moving near Andrews Air Base.
Air Force spokesmen said yesterday they could report only that an investigation was being made into the sighting of the objects on the radar screen in the CAA Air Route Traffic Control Center at Washington National Airport, and on two other radar screens. Methods of the investigation were classified as secret, a spokesman said.
The same source reported an expert from the Air Technical Intelligence Center at Wright-Patterson Air Force base, Dayton, Ohio, was here last week investigating the objects sighted July 19. It may be more than a month before this inquiry is evaluated and the information released, it was said.
The expert has been identified as Capt. E. J. Ruppelt. Reached by telephone at his home in Dayton yesterday, Ruppelt said he could make no comment on his activity in Washington.
Capt. Ruppelt confirmed that he was in Washington last week, but said he had not come here to investigate the mysterious objects. He recalled he did make an investigation after hearing of the objects, but could not say what he investigated. The captain said he had been informed of the latest sightings of the lights.
Another Air Force spokesman said here yesterday the Air Force is taking all steps necessary to evaluate the sightings. "The intelligence people," this spokesman explained, "sent someone over to the control center at the time of the sightings, and did whatever necessary to make the proper evaluation."
Asked whether the radar equipment might have malfunctioned, the spokesman said radar, like the compass, is not a perfect instrument and is subject to error. He thought, however, the investigation would be made by persons acquainted with the problems of radar in the area that picked up the objects. An employee of the National Airport control tower said the radar scope there picked up very weak "blips" of the objects. The tower radar, however, is for short ranges and is not as powerful as that at the center. Radar at Andrews Air Force Base also registered the objects from about 8:30 PM until midnight. Andrews' radar located them about seven miles south of the base.
On Screen till 3 AM
The objects, "flying saucers" or what have you, appeared on the radar scope at the airport center at 9:08 PM. Varying from four to 12 in number, the objects were seen on the screen until 3 AM, when they disappeared.
At 11:25 PM, two F-94 jet fighters from the Air Defense Command squadron at Newcastle, Del., capable of attaining 600-mile-per-hour speeds, took off to investigate the objects.
Airline, civil and military pilots described the objects as looking like the lighted end of a cigarette or a cluster of orange and red lights.
One jet pilot observed four lights in the vicinity of Andrews Air Force Base, but was not able to overtake them, and they disappeared in about two minutes.
The same pilot observed a steady white light 10 miles east of Mount Vernon at 11:49 PM. The light, about five miles from him, faded in a minute. The lights also were observed in the Beltsville, Md., vicinity. At 1:40 AM, two other F-94 jet fighters took off and scanned the area until 2:20 AM but did not make any sighting.
Visible in Two Ways
Although unidentified objects have been picked up on radar before, the incidents of the last two Saturdays are believed to be the first time they have been spotted on radar—while visible to the human eye.
Besides the pilots who last Saturday saw the lights, a woman living on Mississippi Ave. told The Post she saw a "very bright light" streaking across the sky toward Andrews Base about 11:45 PM. Then a second object, with a tail like a comet, whizzed by, and a few seconds later, a third passed in a different direction toward Suitland, she said.
Radar operators plotted the speed of Saturday night's "visitors" at from 38 to 90 miles an hour, but one jet pilot reported faster speeds for the light he saw.
The jet pilot reported he had no apparent "closing speed" when he attempted to reach the lights he saw near Andrews. This means the lights were moving at least as fast as his top speed—a maximum of 600 miles per hour.
One person who saw the lights when they first appeared in this area did not see them last night. He is E. W. Chambers, an engineer at Radio Station WRC, who spotted the lights while working early the morning of July 20 at the station's Hyattsville tower.
Chambers said he was sorry he had seen the lights because he had been skeptical about "flying saucers" before. Now, he said, he sort of "wonders" and worries about the whole thing.
Leon Davidson, 804 South Irving St., Arlington, a chemical engineer who has made an exhaustive study of flying saucers as a hobby, said yesterday reports of saucers in the East have been relatively rare.
Davidson has studied the official Air Force report on the saucers, including some of the secret portions never made public, and analyzed all the data in the report.
Davidson, whose study of saucers is impressively detailed and scientific, said he believes the lights are American "aviation products"—probably circular flying wings, using new-type jet engines that permit rapid acceleration and relatively low speeds. He believes they are either new fighters, guided missiles or piloted guided missiles.
He cited some of the recent jet fighters, including the Navy's new F-4D which has a radical bat wing, as examples of what he thinks the objects might resemble.
Davidson thinks the fact that the lights have been seen in this area indicates the authorities may be ready to disclose the new aircraft in the near future. Previously, most of the ‘verified’ saucers were seen over sparsely inhabited areas, Davidson explained, and now, when they appear here, it may indicate that secrecy is not so important any more. END ARTICLE WASHINGTON POST 29 JULY 1952.
next- chapter 7
PART 2
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