Area 51 Part 6

Before Ben Rich could get into the world's fastest aircraft, he had to go through a battery of physical tests. You can't just climb into an aircraft that gets up to ninety thousand feet without being checked out in a pressure suit in an alt.i.tude chamber first. The flight surgeons on base prepped Rich for tests, the way they usually did pilots. Rich pa.s.sed the physical and a few early stress tests but when he got to the pressure-chamber test-the one that simulated ejection at fifty thousand feet-things did not go as the engineer had planned. The moment the chamber door closed behind Ben Rich, he panicked. "I was sucking oxygen like a marathon runner and screaming, 'Get me out of here!'" Rich later recalled. Without ever getting close to simulating what it was like to fly at Mach 3, let alone experiencing an un-start at that speed, Ben Rich admitted in his memoir that he had still nearly dropped dead from fright.

But the point was made. Rich dedicated all his efforts to fixing the un-start problem. Like so many engineering challenges facing the scientists at Area 51, fixing it involved great ingenuity. In this case, Rich and his team didn't exactly fix the problem. Instead, they created a go-around that made things not so life-threatening for the pilots. Rich invented an electronic control that made sure that when one engine experienced an un-start, the second engine dropped its power as well. The control switch would then restart both engines at the same time. After the new fix, pilots were notified of the un-start by a loud buzzing noise in the c.o.c.kpit. And as far as nearly getting knocked unconscious at 2,000 miles per hour, Oxcart pilots could cross that off their lists of concerns.

In addition to the problems the pilots were having getting the airplane up to speed, there were problems with the electronic countermeasures, or ECMs. The reports being a.n.a.lyzed back at Langley said if Operation Skylark was to happen over Cuba, cruise speed would have to be at a minimum Mach 2.8, because there was a real chance that the Soviet radar systems in Cuba would be able to detect Oxcart flights and possibly even shoot them down. While Project Palladium officers continue to work on jamming methods, the Office of Special Activities at the Pentagon decided that the solution lay in working to enhance stealth. The phenomenally low radar cross section on the Oxcart had to be lowered even further. This meant that Lockheed physicist Edward Lovick and the radar cross-section team were summoned back to Area 51.

In a hangar not far from the radar range, Edward Lovick got to work on a one-eighth-scale model of the Oxcart. In what became known as Project Kempster-Lacroix Project Kempster-Lacroix, Lovick designed a system straight out of Star Trek or James Bond. "Two giant electron guns were to be mounted on either side of the aircraft," Lovick recalls. Remarkably, the purpose of the guns would be "to shoot out a twenty-five-foot-wide ion cloud of highly charged particles in front of the plane as it flew over denied territory." That gaseous cloud, Lovick determined, would further absorb radar waves coming up from radar tracking stations on the ground.

Using the small-scale model, the scientists were able to prove the scheme worked, which meant it was time to build a full-scale mock-up of Kempster-Lacroix. Testing the system out on a full-size aircraft, the scientists discovered that the radiation emitted by the electron guns would be too dangerous for the pilots. So a separate team of engineers designed an X-ray shield that the pilots could wear over their pressure suits while flying an Oxcart outfitted with Kempster-Lacroix. When one of the pilots made a test run, he determined that the thickness of the shield was far too c.u.mbersome to wear while trying to fly an airplane at Mach 3. Then, while Lovick was working on a solution, the Air Force changed its mind. The Oxcart's low observables were low enough, the Pentagon said. Project Kempster-Lacroix was abandoned.

It was ironic, to say the least. Not the flip-flopping by the Air Force but the concerns about radiation. By 1964, the government had exploded 286 nuclear bombs the government had exploded 286 nuclear bombs within shouting distance of Area 51. One year earlier, the United States and the Soviet Union had signed the Limited Test Ban Treaty prohibiting nuclear testing in the air, s.p.a.ce, or sea. The initiative had been in the works for years but negotiations had repeatedly failed. Now that it was finally signed, testing had moved underground. Neither superpower trusted the other to honor the commitment for very long, and the number of tests per month actually accelerated after the treaty; the idea was to stay weapons-ready in the event one side broke the treaty. Between September 1961 and December 1964, a record-breaking 162 bombs were exploded at the Nevada Test Site inside underground tunnels and shafts. Nearly half of these explosions resulted in the "accidental release of radioactivity" into the atmosphere. within shouting distance of Area 51. One year earlier, the United States and the Soviet Union had signed the Limited Test Ban Treaty prohibiting nuclear testing in the air, s.p.a.ce, or sea. The initiative had been in the works for years but negotiations had repeatedly failed. Now that it was finally signed, testing had moved underground. Neither superpower trusted the other to honor the commitment for very long, and the number of tests per month actually accelerated after the treaty; the idea was to stay weapons-ready in the event one side broke the treaty. Between September 1961 and December 1964, a record-breaking 162 bombs were exploded at the Nevada Test Site inside underground tunnels and shafts. Nearly half of these explosions resulted in the "accidental release of radioactivity" into the atmosphere.

In addition to weapons tests, the nuclear laboratories were racing to find ways to use nuclear bombs for "peaceful applications." This included ideas like widening the Panama Ca.n.a.l or blowing up America's natural geography to make room for future highways and homes. These proposed earthmoving projects fell under the rubric of Project Plowshares, a name chosen from a verse in the Old Testament, Micah 4:3: And they shall beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks: nations shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war anymore. And they shall beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks: nations shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war anymore.

But that was just semantics. Test ban treaty or not, the Department of Defense had no intention of putting down its swords. The men were fully committed to the long haul that was the Cold War.

Finally satisfied with the radar cross section, the CIA decided to set up its own electronic countermeasures office at Area 51. In 1963, the first group consisted of two men from Sylvania, a company better known for making lightbulbs than for its top secret work for the CIA. "The first jamming system was called Red Dog; later it became Blue Dog," explains Ken Swanson, the first official ECM officer at Area 51. The Red Dog system was designed to detect Russian surface-to-air missiles coming after Oxcart and then jam those missiles with an electronic pulse. The work was exciting when the airplanes were flying and there was actual data to collect, but if the Red Dog system failed and needed fixing, it meant a lot of waiting around.

These were the early days of electronic warfare, and there were not a lot of Red Dog spare parts lying around. As a result, Ken Swanson worked many long weekends at Area 51. Swanson says that sometimes he and his Sylvania colleague felt like they were the only ones on the base. One weekend the men took the Area 51 motor pool's four-wheel-drive vehicle up to Bald Mountain, the tallest peak on the Groom Range, to have a look around. "We found a bunch of old Model Ts and had no idea what they were doing there," Swanson recalls. Another time he went solo to investigate the old mines. "I was wearing tennis shoes and Bermuda shorts and I b.u.mped into a bunch of rattlers sunning themselves. Next time I went back, I wore snake boots," he says. During winter weekends, there were even fewer people at Area 51, and for entertainment, after a long day performing high-tech electronic-countermeasures work, Swanson would go joyriding around the dry lake bed. He'd borrow an Econoline van from the motor pool, take it out on the frozen tarmac, and do spins. "But I stopped after I had the van on two wheels once," Swanson says.

With Red Dog, the CIA wanted to see how the Oxcart would show up on Soviet radar, and so, at the southern tip of Groom Lake, on EG&G Road, Sylvania built two ECM systems, one to simulate Russian SA-2 radar and a second to simulate the Fan Song surface-to-air missile system that was showing up in North Vietnam. The goal was to see what Oxcart looked like, or hopefully did not look like, on these radars. An equally important part of the radar testing system was the radar pole that had to be installed on the top of Bald Mountain. For that, the CIA recruited one of the best rescue helicopter pilots in the country, Charlie Trapp.

"I was minding my own business in South Carolina," Trapp recalls, "when these guys from the Air Force called me up and asked if I want to come fly a two-airplane helo unit in Nevada, one hundred miles from the nearest town. They said it was important and that I'd have to be able to hover and land at nine thousand feet." Trapp thought it sounded interesting Trapp thought it sounded interesting as well as challenging and he signed on. "We flew in from Nellis in the H-43 [helicopter] and before we even landed at Area 51, they said, 'Let's go see how you land on top of the mountain first,' that's how important the mountain project was to the beginning of my Area 51 a.s.signment." For months, Trapp hauled cement in thousand-pound buckets from the Area 51 operations center up to the top of Bald Mountain. "I'd hover over the top and lower the equipment down," Trapp explains. "There were high winds and serious dust storms." Finally, Trapp helicoptered in the one-hundred-foot-long radar pole, which a team of workers cemented into place. Mission accomplished. "We did such a good job, the CIA gave us air medals," Trapp says. On his way back down to Area 51 in the helicopter, Trapp would fly around the different mountain peaks. "Once, I came across an old graveyard. In a helicopter you can hover and look. The graves were made of piles of rocks. I remember two of them were really small. They must have been kids' graves." The mountain had a psychological pull with many of the men at Area 51 during the Oxcart years. It was also the only place the men were allowed to go that was technically "off base." as well as challenging and he signed on. "We flew in from Nellis in the H-43 [helicopter] and before we even landed at Area 51, they said, 'Let's go see how you land on top of the mountain first,' that's how important the mountain project was to the beginning of my Area 51 a.s.signment." For months, Trapp hauled cement in thousand-pound buckets from the Area 51 operations center up to the top of Bald Mountain. "I'd hover over the top and lower the equipment down," Trapp explains. "There were high winds and serious dust storms." Finally, Trapp helicoptered in the one-hundred-foot-long radar pole, which a team of workers cemented into place. Mission accomplished. "We did such a good job, the CIA gave us air medals," Trapp says. On his way back down to Area 51 in the helicopter, Trapp would fly around the different mountain peaks. "Once, I came across an old graveyard. In a helicopter you can hover and look. The graves were made of piles of rocks. I remember two of them were really small. They must have been kids' graves." The mountain had a psychological pull with many of the men at Area 51 during the Oxcart years. It was also the only place the men were allowed to go that was technically "off base."

Down on the tarmac, every time an A-12 Oxcart took off, it was Trapp's job to hang out airborne, two hundred feet above the runway and off to one side, "in case the aircraft crashed," Trapp explains. "My helicopter contained firefighting equipment, and I always had two PJs with me, para-rescue jumpers, [who perform] like a Navy SEAL. It was a lot of work having us airborne and I told the boss, Colonel Holbury, that I could be airborne in less than two minutes' time. So the policy changed." Instead, Trapp was on standby in the event of an accident, "which meant I got to drive the only golf cart around the Area 51 base." The golf cart came in handy at night. "We played a lot of poker in the House-Six bar," Trapp explains. "The loser had to do the late-night cheeseburger run over to the mess hall. With the golf cart, you could get there and back in five minutes."

For all the technology that was around at Area 51, entertainment was decidedly old-school. "We did a lot of arm wrestling," Trapp says. "Some guys played racquetball and other guys played three-hole golf." When Trapp gained ten pounds eating so many late-night cheeseburgers, he was ordered to lose the weight or risk losing his job. To a.s.sist in the effort, Colonel Holbury challenged Trapp to weekly rounds of squash. Once, someone brought a sailboard out to Area 51, and the pilots pulled rank and got the men in the machine shop to affix wheels to the bottom of the board. "We took the thing out to Groom Lake when the wind was blowing really hard," Trapp recalls. "It didn't go that fast but we didn't care."

Of all the pastimes, the unanimous favorite was flying model airplanes using remote control. "We had two areas for flying model planes," Trapp recalls. "Out on the gra.s.s by the golf course, and on the tarmac out on the dry lake. Sometimes the airplanes would go so far and so high they'd get lost. A guy would come up to me and say, 'Hey, Charlie, when you're out in the helicopter, can you keep your eye out for my model plane? It's got a five-foot wing span and yellow wings.' We found ways to entertain ourselves at Area 51. We had to; there weren't any girls."

The man who took the model airplane flying most seriously was Frank Murray. He was also the chase pilot with the most flying time during Project Oxcart. "You could always find Frank sitting in his room gluing model airplanes together," Colonel Slater recalls. "That was his idea of fun. Or maybe he was the only guy at 51 who wasn't half-drunk at eleven o'clock at night." Which is how Murray acc.u.mulated the most flying time. "If somebody's kid got hurt in the middle of the night, which happened more than you think, and I need a pilot to get someone off base fast, I'd round up Frank," Colonel Slater explains. When master fuels sergeant Harry Martin's grandfather died, it was Frank Murray who flew him back east so he could get to the funeral in time. "Frank was always willing to do the job," Colonel Slater explains. "Most people require time off from flying. Not Frank."

Murray flew model airplanes to keep his head clear for flying real airplanes. "Everyone had their different thing," Colonel Slater says. "Bud Wheelon from CIA used to want to play tennis at midnight when he was on base. Some liked to go hunting up in the mountains by the old Sheehan mine. Holbury used to like to make the guard dogs run. Some guys threw rocks at rattlesnakes. I liked to drive around in the jeep and find petrified wood."

As an Oxcart chase pilot, Murray spent his days and nights chasing the Mach 3 airplane in the F-101. The Voodoo was a two-seat, supersonic jet fighter the Air Force used to accompany the Oxcart on takeoffs and landings. "We flew it with Oxcart up through the special operating area, or Yuletide, which was the airs.p.a.ce just north of the base," Murray explains. "The Agency had us fly alongside the Oxcart in the Voodoo until we couldn't keep up with the Oxcart anymore." Flying chase meant Murray got a.s.signed most of the grunt work and enjoyed little of the glamour. "I was a little jealous of the Oxcart pilots," he admits. "How can a pilot not be? But I was happy as a pig in the Voodoo. For a farm boy from San Diego, flying chase for the 1129th was a good time."

Murray flew the F-101 doing just about everything that needed to be done in support of Oxcart operations. This included flying against the Red Dog simulators, observing tanker refuels, overseeing takeoffs and landings, and flying Lockheed photographers around on CIA photo shoots. But Murray's path in life took a significant redirection when General Ledford, the head of the Office of Special Activities General Ledford, the head of the Office of Special Activities at the Pentagon, decided he wanted to learn how to fly the F-101 while he was overseeing activities at Area 51. Murray recalls: "The general had been a bomber pilot in World War Two but he hadn't ever flown anything as fast as the Voodoo could go, which was around twelve hundred or thirteen hundred miles per hour. So he decided that he wanted to learn how to fly it and when it came to choosing an IP, an instructor pilot, the general chose me." at the Pentagon, decided he wanted to learn how to fly the F-101 while he was overseeing activities at Area 51. Murray recalls: "The general had been a bomber pilot in World War Two but he hadn't ever flown anything as fast as the Voodoo could go, which was around twelve hundred or thirteen hundred miles per hour. So he decided that he wanted to learn how to fly it and when it came to choosing an IP, an instructor pilot, the general chose me."

Murray now had to teach a legendary war hero, someone who also happened to be the highest-ranking military officer on the Oxcart program, how to fly supersonic. It might have been a daunting task. Except that it was not in Frank Murray's character it was not in Frank Murray's character to be apprehensive. To Murray, it sounded like fun. "Out at the Ranch we had eight 101s that ran chase and one of them was a two-holer, with two c.o.c.kpits and two sticks. 'Come on, Frankie,' the general said. He got in the back and up we went." to be apprehensive. To Murray, it sounded like fun. "Out at the Ranch we had eight 101s that ran chase and one of them was a two-holer, with two c.o.c.kpits and two sticks. 'Come on, Frankie,' the general said. He got in the back and up we went."

General Ledford began to spend more and more time at the Ranch, where, in addition to the serious work being done, operations had taken on a boys' club atmosphere. After a day of intense flying, nights were spent eating, socializing, and having drinks. "Sometimes, on the late side of things after dinner, Ledford would get a hair in his hat that he wanted to get back to Washington to see his wife, Polly," Murray says. "He'd slap me on the back. That was my cue to take him home." Home, in Washington, DC, was 2,500 miles away, and with supersonic aircraft at one's disposal, this could actually happen this late at night. "Ledford was my student but he was also the general so on these trips home, I started letting him sit in the front of the plane; I'd sit in back. Well, all those hours flying back and forth from Area 51 to Washington, that cemented it. He was my boss but he also became my friend." Ledford had other friends as well, several in high places at the Air Force, which made getting back to the East Coast from Nevada in the middle of the night a relatively easier trip. "Ledford had a buddy who was still in SAC, an air division commander at Blytheville Air Force Base in northeast Arkansas, just about halfway between 51 and Washington. Ledford would radio him when we were up in the air approaching the next state over and he'd say, 'Have you got a tanker in the area?' If he did or didn't you could bet your fifty there'd be a tanker lining up next to you somewhere over Arkansas," Murray says. What this meant was that when Murray and the general were traveling from Area 51 to the East Coast late at night, they never even had to stop for gas.

After a little more than two hours in the air, the men would land at Andrews Air Force Base and taxi up to the generals' quarters-similar to a luxury hotel suite on the base-and enjoy a postflight scotch. "Ledford had a fancy setup on base quarters that had a fully equipped bar," Murray explains. "We'd have a pop and chat a little before his wife, Polly, arrived to pick him up and take him home. I'd spend the night in the generals' quarters. Get some sleep and in the morning head home to 51."

It was an exciting time for Frank Murray. He couldn't have imagined living this life. Only a few years earlier, he'd been flying Voodoos at Otis Air Force Base as part of the Air Defense Command when he had seen an interesting sign tacked on a bulletin board that read NASA is looking for F-101 chase pilots. NASA is looking for F-101 chase pilots. He thought working for NASA sounded like fun. He had no idea that was just a cover story and that the Air Force, not NASA, was really looking for chase pilots for the Oxcart program at Area 51. Murray applied and got in. He moved the family to Nevada and swore an oath not to tell anyone what he did, not even Stella, his wife. But he knew his family would be super proud of him. For a farm boy from San Diego, he was at the top of his game. He thought working for NASA sounded like fun. He had no idea that was just a cover story and that the Air Force, not NASA, was really looking for chase pilots for the Oxcart program at Area 51. Murray applied and got in. He moved the family to Nevada and swore an oath not to tell anyone what he did, not even Stella, his wife. But he knew his family would be super proud of him. For a farm boy from San Diego, he was at the top of his game.

While Project Oxcart worked to get mission-ready, back in Washington the widening of the conflict in Vietnam by the Communists in the north was becoming a nightmare for President Johnson. He had won the favor of the people back in 1957 by declaring Communism to be the world's greatest threat. In comparison to the thermonuclear-armed Soviet Union, Vietnam was to Johnson a sideshow. But it was also a piece in the widely held domino theory: if Vietnam fell to Communism, the whole region would ultimately fall. President Johnson had inherited Vietnam from President Kennedy when it was a political crisis and not yet a war. That changed in the second summer Johnson held office, in August of 1964, with the Gulf of Tonkin. The Pentagon declared that the U.S. Navy had suffered an unprovoked attack by North Vietnam against the USS Maddox, Maddox, and the National Security Agency had evidence, McNamara said. This event allowed Johnson to push the Gulf of Tonkin resolution through Congress, which authorized war. ( and the National Security Agency had evidence, McNamara said. This event allowed Johnson to push the Gulf of Tonkin resolution through Congress, which authorized war. (In 2005 NSA released a detailed confession admitting that its intelligence had been "deliberately skewed to support the notion that there had been an attack.") To avenge the USS a detailed confession admitting that its intelligence had been "deliberately skewed to support the notion that there had been an attack.") To avenge the USS Maddox Maddox attack, Johnson ordered air attacks against the North Vietnamese, sending Navy pilots on bombing missions over North Vietnam. When a number of U.S. pilots were shot down, the North Vietnamese took them as prisoners of war. attack, Johnson ordered air attacks against the North Vietnamese, sending Navy pilots on bombing missions over North Vietnam. When a number of U.S. pilots were shot down, the North Vietnamese took them as prisoners of war.

The war's escalation led Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara to perform an about-face regarding Oxcart Robert McNamara to perform an about-face regarding Oxcart. The Agency's spy plane could be vitally useful after all, McNamara now said, certainly when it came to gathering intelligence in North Vietnam. The Agency knew the Russians had begun supplying surface-to-air missile systems supplying surface-to-air missile systems to the Communists in North Vietnam, and now they were shooting down American boys. Both the Air Force and the Agency sent U-2s on reconnaissance missions, and these overflights revealed that missile sites were being to the Communists in North Vietnam, and now they were shooting down American boys. Both the Air Force and the Agency sent U-2s on reconnaissance missions, and these overflights revealed that missile sites were being set up around Hanoi set up around Hanoi. But the Pentagon needed far more specific target information. In June, McNamara sat down with the CIA and began drawing up plans to get the Oxcart ready for its first mission at last.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

The Ultimate Boys' Club At Groom Lake throughout the 1960s, at least once a month and always before dawn, base personnel would be shaken from their beds shaken from their beds by a violent explosion. When the rumbling first started happening, Ken Collins would leap from bed as a sensation that felt like a ma.s.sive earthquake rolled by. A nuclear bomb was being exploded next door, underground, just a few miles west of Oxcart pilots' quarters. Next, the blast wave would hit Collins's Quonset hut and then roll on, heading across the Emigrant Mountain Range with a surreal and unnatural force that made the coyotes wail. by a violent explosion. When the rumbling first started happening, Ken Collins would leap from bed as a sensation that felt like a ma.s.sive earthquake rolled by. A nuclear bomb was being exploded next door, underground, just a few miles west of Oxcart pilots' quarters. Next, the blast wave would hit Collins's Quonset hut and then roll on, heading across the Emigrant Mountain Range with a surreal and unnatural force that made the coyotes wail.

In the years that Collins had been test-flying the Oxcart at Area 51, the Department of Defense had been testing nuclear bombs with bravado. After a while, being awoken before dawn meant little to Collins, and he'd roll over and go back to sleep. But on this one particular morning something felt different. It was a banging he was hearing, not a boom. Collins opened his eyes. Someone was indeed banging on his Quonset hut door. Next came a loud voice that sounded a lot like Colonel Slater's. Collins leaped out of bed and opened his door. Colonel Slater had an unusual look of concern, and without explanation, he ordered Collins to get into his flight suit as fast as he could. This was a highly unusual request, Collins thought. It was definitely before dawn. Behind where Slater stood on the Quonset hut stoop, Collins could see it was still dark outside. For a brief moment, he feared the worst. Had America gone to war with the Soviets? What could possibly force an unplanned Oxcart mission flight? Rushing to put on his clothes, Collins heard Colonel Slater waking up the flight surgeon who lived in the apartment quarters next door.

Collins followed Slater in a run toward the hangar where the Oxcart lived. There he was quickly briefed on the situation: the Pentagon had called to say that a Russian reconnaissance balloon was flying across the United States, floating with the prevailing winds in a westerly direction. Collins was to find the Soviet balloon-fast. Normally, the flight surgeon would have spent two hours just getting Collins into his pressure suit. That morning Collins was suited up and sitting in the c.o.c.kpit of the Oxcart in a little over thirty minutes. Up he went, blasting off the tarmac, north then east, on direct orders by the Pentagon to "hunt and find" the Soviet weather balloon visually and using radar.

Up in the air it dawned on Collins what a wild-goose chase he was on. What would a Russian reconnaissance balloon look like? What were the chances of making visual contact with such a thing? At speeds of more than 2,200 mph, he was traveling more than half a mile each second. Even if he saw the balloon, in just a fraction of a second it would be behind him. Even worse, what if he actually did get that close to the flying object? If the Oxcart hit anything while moving at Mach 3, the plane would break apart instantly and he'd be toast.

Flying somewhere over the middle of the continent, Collins briefly identified an object on radar about 350 miles away. As instructed, he flew around the object in the tightest circle he could perform at Mach 3, which meant his circle had a radius of about 400 miles. He never saw the balloon with his own eyes.

After Collins returned to base, engineers scrambled to read the information on the data recorder. The incident has never been decla.s.sified The incident has never been decla.s.sified. Admitting that the Soviets invaded U.S. airs.p.a.ce-whether in a craft or by balloon-is not something any U.S. official has ever done. Collins never asked any follow-up questions. That's how it was to be a pilot: the less you knew, the better the less you knew, the better. He knew too many fellow pilots from Korea who had come home from POW camps missing fingernails-if they came home at all. Now, ten years later, pilots shot down over North Vietnam were experiencing the same kinds of torture, maybe worse. The less you knew, the better. That was the pilots' creed.

As deputy director of the CIA, Richard Helms was a huge fan of Oxcart. He worked closely on the program with Bud Wheelon, whose efforts earned him the t.i.tle of first director of science and technology for the CIA. Now that Richard Bissell was gone, there were few men in the Agency as devoted to the Area 51 spy plane program as Wheelon and Helms. Whereas Wheelon saw his position at the CIA as a temporary one-he signed on for a four-year contract, fulfilled it, and left the CIA-Helms was a career Agency man. He'd worked closely with Bissell on the U-2 from its inception and he knew what important intelligence could come from overhead photographs. The United States learned more about the Soviets' weapons capabilities from its first U-2 overflight than it had in the previous ten years from its spies on the ground. Off McNamara's inquiry about possibly using the Oxcart on spy missions over North Vietnam, Helms made a personal trip out to Area 51 to sign off on Oxcart design specifications himself. Helms was also acutely aware of the Air Force's plans to push Oxcart out of the way in favor of their own reconnaissance spy plane, the SR-71 Blackbird. If Helms could get a mission for Oxcart, the chances of the CIA maintaining its supersonic espionage program greatly increased.

Almost everyone who visited Area 51 became enamored with the desert facility, and Helms was no exception. It was impossible not to be fascinated by the power and prestige the secret facility embodied. It was the quintessential boys' club, both exotic and elite. Most of all, it gave visitors the sense of being a million miles away from the hustle and bustle of Washington, DC. There were no cars to drive-instead, Agency shuttles moved men around the base. No radio, almost no TV No radio, almost no TV. As a visitor to Area 51, Helms was particularly careful not to step on any powerful Air Force toes. The base was, operations-wise, Air Force turf now. The CIA was in charge of missions, but there were no missions, which only underscored a growing sense of Agency impotence. The Air Force controlled most of the day-to-day operations on the base, including proficiency flights and air-to-air refuelings, which were practiced regularly so everyone in the 1129th Special Activities Squadron stayed in shape.

During his visit, Helms kept a relatively low profile, making sure to spend more of his time in the field-on the airstrip with the pilots and in the aircraft hangars with the engineers-than drinking White Horse Scotch with Air Force bra.s.s in the House-Six bar. During test flights, Helms liked to roll up his sleeves and stand on the tarmac when the Oxcart took off. He likened the experience to standing on the epicenter of an 8.0 earthquake and described the great orange fireb.a.l.l.s that spewed out of the Oxcart's engines as "hammers from h.e.l.l." Helms, an upper-middle-cla.s.s intellectual from Philadelphia, loved colorful language. He'd once told a room of military men that the Vietnam War was "like an incubus," "like an incubus," a nightmarish male demon that creeps up on sleeping women and has intercourse with them. Helms's grandiose language, most likely intentional, separated him from straight-talking military men. a nightmarish male demon that creeps up on sleeping women and has intercourse with them. Helms's grandiose language, most likely intentional, separated him from straight-talking military men.

Despite playing a key role in planning and executing covert operations in Vietnam, Richard Helms did not believe the United States could win the war there. This posture kept him out of step with Pentagon bra.s.s. Helms believed Vietnam was fracturing consensus about America's need to win the Cold War, which he saw as the more important battle at hand. He was an advocate of using technology to beat the Russians by way of overhead reconnaissance from satellites and spy planes, which was why he liked Oxcart so much. And unlike Pentagon and State Department officials, who, for the most part, cautioned the president against ever sending spy planes over the Soviet Union again, Helms, like McCone, felt the president should do just that. "The only sin in espionage is getting caught," "The only sin in espionage is getting caught," Helms once said. He believed the best intelligence was "objective intelligence." Photographs didn't have an opinion and couldn't lie. Helms attributed his respect for objectivity to his working as a journalist for the wire service United Press International. In 1936, a then twenty-four-year-old Richard Helms got his first big scoop: covering the Berlin Olympics as a reporter, he was invited to interview Adolf Hitler. Six years later, Helms once said. He believed the best intelligence was "objective intelligence." Photographs didn't have an opinion and couldn't lie. Helms attributed his respect for objectivity to his working as a journalist for the wire service United Press International. In 1936, a then twenty-four-year-old Richard Helms got his first big scoop: covering the Berlin Olympics as a reporter, he was invited to interview Adolf Hitler. Six years later, Helms would be recruited by the Office of Strategic Services Helms would be recruited by the Office of Strategic Services, the precursor organization to the CIA, to spy on Hitler's men.

With Richard Helms at Area 51 in December of 1965, the Oxcart was finally declared operational. Celebrations were in order. One of the pilots offered to fly a C-130 Hercules on a seafood run to Westover Air Force Base a seafood run to Westover Air Force Base in Ma.s.sachusetts, where Werner Weiss had coolers full of lobsters, oysters, and crab legs ready to be taken to Area 51. Big-budget black operations had stomach-size perks too. After such feasts, the kitchen staff buried the sh.e.l.ls in compost piles along the base perimeter, and the joke among Air Force support staff was that future archaeologists digging in the area would think Groom Lake had been an ocean as late as the 1960s. in Ma.s.sachusetts, where Werner Weiss had coolers full of lobsters, oysters, and crab legs ready to be taken to Area 51. Big-budget black operations had stomach-size perks too. After such feasts, the kitchen staff buried the sh.e.l.ls in compost piles along the base perimeter, and the joke among Air Force support staff was that future archaeologists digging in the area would think Groom Lake had been an ocean as late as the 1960s.

As secret and compartmentalized as the base was, the mess hall was the one place where the men gathered together to break bread. Technical a.s.sistants would rub elbows with three- and four-star generals visiting there. Ernie Williams, who had helped find Area 51's first well in 1955 and now helped coordinate meals, loved it when Werner Weiss invited him into the mess hall to eat steaks with generals who wore stars on their chests. And after the meal was over, the men would again go their separate ways. The Special Projects program managers and the engineering nerds usually retired to their quarters to play poker and drink bottled beer. The scientists were known to return to their respective hangars, where they'd stay up until all hours of the night engrossed in various problems they needed to solve. The Air Force guys went to the House-Six bar to roll dice, have a drink, and share war stories.

When on base, Richard Helms was known to stop in for a drink. He was a great conversationalist but almost always refrained from telling stories about himself. And as far as World War II was concerned, Helms rarely discussed the subject. In 1945, as a young OSS officer, Helms had worked in postwar Berlin. He was one of the key players in Operation Paperclip; Helms had been tasked with finding a group of Hitler's former scientists and offering them positions on cla.s.sified programs back in the United States. Jobs involving biological weapons, rockets, and stealth. Years later, Helms justified his recruitment of former n.a.z.is by saying that if the scientists hadn't come to work for us, they'd have gone to work for "them." Helms knew things other men did not know. At the Agency he was the man who kept the secrets.

In 1975, Helms would unwittingly become an internationally recognized figure famous for destroying CIA doc.u.ments to avoid having their secrets revealed. After allegations surfaced that the CIA had been running a human-research program called MKULTRA-which involved mind-control experiments using drugs such as LSD-Helms as director of the CIA was asked to take the stand. While testifying to Congress, Helms stated that he had ordered all the MKULTRA files destroyed MKULTRA files destroyed two years earlier, in 1973. two years earlier, in 1973.

In the labyrinthine organizational chart that kept men at Area 51 in their respective places, no one was more important to the spy plane project's overall progress than the commander of the base, a position granted to an Air Force officer whose salary came from the CIA. In 1965, the position was filled by Colonel Slater. Slater was the ideal commander. He was astute, practical, and an excellent listener, which put him in direct contrast to the more elitist Colonel Holbury, who'd held the position before. What the pilots appreciated most about Slater was that he was funny. Not sarcastic funny, but the kind of funny that reminded pilots not to take their jobs so seriously all the time. One of the first things Colonel Slater did after taking command of the base was to hang a sign over the House-Six bar that listed Slip Slater's Basic Rules of Flying at Groom Lake. There were only three rules.

Try to stay in the middle of the air.

Do not go near the edges of it.

The edges of the air can be recognized by the appearance of ground, buildings, sea, trees and interstellar s.p.a.ce. It is much more difficult to fly there.

Like all the pilots at Area 51, Slater flew every chance he got. Now, as commander of the base, he began each day by making the first run. Around five thirty each morning, coffee mug in hand, Slater was driven by one of the enlisted men to the end of a runway, where he'd jump in an F-101 and fly around the Box on what he called "the weather run." Because Area 51 had a large box of restricted airs.p.a.ce, Slater could fly in a manner not seen at other Air Force bases. Colonel Roger Andersen, who had been recruited to Area 51 to work in the command post, remembers the first time he flew with Slater in a two-seater T-33 to Groom Lake. "We were doing proficiency flying. I'd been getting teased by the other pilots because my background was flying tankers for the Air Force, not jets," Andersen explains. "Up in the air, Slater says to me, 'You need to loosen up, Andersen, Let's rack it around.' At which point Slater does a loop, a roll, and a spin... in a row. You could do that kind of thing up at Area 51."

Everyone knew stories about Slater's flying career: flying against the Germans in World War II, flying as the detachment commander for the Black Cats, and of course the remarkable story of his flying an airplane with a dead engine for a hundred miles on a glide-through a hurricane-in 1946. As a young hero just back from the war, Slater had been chosen by the Army Air Forces to fly a brand-new P-80 Shooting Star on a training mission from March Air Force Base to Jamaica. The P-80 was the first jet fighter used by the Army Air Forces at a time when jets in America were relatively new. As Slater remembers it, he was "one hundred miles out at sea off of Key West when the engine quit. I was just north of Cuba, which was under hurricane. There was turbine failure and a flameout so I turned around and glided back to the Keys." Jet airplanes do not normally glide without engine thrust, at least not without a skilled pilot at the controls. When a jet engine loses all power, it usually crashes. Slater rode the jet stream for a hundred miles over the Atlantic Ocean until he found an abandoned airstrip at Marathon Key, in Florida, on which to land. The amazing story made its way to the pages of the New York Times. New York Times.

Richard Helms was a fan of Slater, and before leaving Area 51 to get back to Washington, Helms made sure to congratulate Colonel Slater on all the fine work that had been achieved to get Oxcart operational. Now Slater had to be prepared to fly himself to Washington on a moment's notice on Oxcart's behalf. Over the next several months, Slater and General Ledford would be asked Slater and General Ledford would be asked to partic.i.p.ate in the top secret covert-action review board the 303 Committee, which would be a.s.signing Oxcart its mission. (The 303 Committee was a successor to the Special Operations Group, which Bissell had been in charge of during his tenure at the CIA.) to partic.i.p.ate in the top secret covert-action review board the 303 Committee, which would be a.s.signing Oxcart its mission. (The 303 Committee was a successor to the Special Operations Group, which Bissell had been in charge of during his tenure at the CIA.) Slater flew himself to Washington in an F-101 more times than he could count. There, however eloquently the Agency advocated on the Oxcart squadron's behalf, the Pentagon put up roadblocks. Slater's input had little effect on the naysayers. He was looked upon as the man in charge of a billion-dollar black operations program, a golden goose that the Air Force desperately wanted to wrest from the CIA. Every time the Agency proposed a mission, the review board denied the CIA's request.

That the groundbreaking spy plane was trapped in a stalemate between the CIA and the Air Force was, at first, unbelievable to Colonel Slater. Throughout his career, Slater had moved effortlessly between different armed services and intelligence worlds, applying his talents wherever they were needed most. As a twenty-two-year-old fighter pilot, Slater flew eighty-four missions over France and Germany in a P-47 Thunderbolt. When the Army desperately needed support from airmen during the Battle of the Bulge, Slater fought side by side with soldiers on the ground at the b.l.o.o.d.y Siege of Bastogne. Later, as commander of the Black Cat Squadron flying dangerous missions over mainland China, Slater wore both CIA and Air Force hats with ease. The common goal was gathering intelligence. Colonel Slater saw no rivalry among the men.

During that winter of 1966, flying back and forth between Area 51 and the Pentagon, Slater had a front-row seat for the power struggle between the Air Force and the CIA. Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara had changed his mind again on the usefulness of Oxcart in Vietnam. He decided to wait until the Air Force SR-71 program came online. Bud Wheelon believes that "McNamara was delaying finding a mission for the Oxcart on purpose. He was an empire builder. Oxcart did not fit into his empire because it was never his." With each month that pa.s.sed, the Air Force's SR-71 Blackbird was that much closer to being operations-ready, and the men in charge of Blackbird were in McNamara's chain of command. As soon as the Air Force's spy plane was ready, the CIA's almost identical spy plane would be out of a job. for the Oxcart on purpose. He was an empire builder. Oxcart did not fit into his empire because it was never his." With each month that pa.s.sed, the Air Force's SR-71 Blackbird was that much closer to being operations-ready, and the men in charge of Blackbird were in McNamara's chain of command. As soon as the Air Force's spy plane was ready, the CIA's almost identical spy plane would be out of a job.

In June of 1966, Richard Helms was made director of the CIA. Now one of the most powerful men in Washington, Helms lobbied hard on Oxcart's behalf, and in July, the Joint Chiefs of Staff voted in favor of sending Oxcart over North Vietnam to gather intelligence on missile sites there. McNamara and Secretary of State Dean Rusk dug in their heels and again offered dissent. Both men argued that putting CIA planes on the ground at the U.S. Air Force base in Okinawa, j.a.pan, posed too great a political risk. McNamara was playing the same card he had played with John McCone when McCone was running the CIA, namely, that if a CIA spy plane were to get shot down if a CIA spy plane were to get shot down on an espionage mission, the president would face the same backlash that Eisenhower had after the Gary Powers incident. on an espionage mission, the president would face the same backlash that Eisenhower had after the Gary Powers incident.

In August, a vote for or against Oxcart deployment was tallied in the presence of President Johnson. The majority voted against deployment The majority voted against deployment, and the president upheld that decision. The ice around the Oxcart program was getting thin. Colonel Slater responded as best he knew how: when the going gets tough, the tough keep flying. Back at Area 51, he was determined to keep his men mission-ready. There was no point in letting his men know that the program was on the verge of collapse. Who could have imagined that the seminal Oxcart was in danger of being mothballed before it ever got a job? Instead, Slater gave his men a new goal. He wanted them to shave six days off the time it took the squadron to go from mission notification to deployment overseas. It had been a twenty-one-day response time; Slater now wanted it reduced by nearly 30 percent Slater now wanted it reduced by nearly 30 percent.

Area 51 became like a Boy Scout camp on steroids, a stomping ground for the world's fastest and now most expensive airplane. The six aircraft that would be used for deployment were put through a whole new battery of flight-simulation tests. Commander Slater kept pilot morale high and Pentagon dissent at bay. A bowling alley was built. The pilots kept in shape playing water sports in the Olympic-size swimming pool. They kept their minds clear flying model airplanes and hitting golf b.a.l.l.s off the dry lake bed up into the hills. Even the contractors were encouraged to pick up the pace. Slater challenged a lazy work crew to dig a lake. Five decades later, Groom Lake's artificial body of water would still be referred to as Slater Lake. With the aircraft now flying at full speed and maximum height, it was time to break performance records. In December of 1966, one of the pilots set a speed record that would last into the twenty-first century. Bill Park flew 10,195 miles in a little over six hours at an average speed of 1,660 miles per hour. Park had flown over all four corners of America Park had flown over all four corners of America and back to the base in less time than most men spend at the office on any given day. To the project pilots itching for missions, it seemed like they could be deployed any day. And then, in January of 1967, tragedy struck. and back to the base in less time than most men spend at the office on any given day. To the project pilots itching for missions, it seemed like they could be deployed any day. And then, in January of 1967, tragedy struck.

Project pilot Walt Ray was, by all accounts, a terrific pilot Walt Ray was, by all accounts, a terrific pilot. He and his new wife, Diane, also made for good company with Ken Collins and his wife, Jane. Diane and Jane did not have to keep up any pretenses; they both accepted that they had no idea what their husbands really did besides fly airplanes. The Rays and the Collinses lived close to each other in the San Fernando Valley, and they would often go on holidays together. "Once we took a small prop plane and flew down to Cabo San Lucas flew down to Cabo San Lucas, Mexico, and spent a couple days down there playing tennis, swimming, and flying around," Collins recalls. "There were so few runways in Mexico in the early sixties, mostly we landed in big fields. The goats would see us coming, or hear us coming; they'd run away, and we'd land. Walt Ray loved to fly as much as I did. We'd take turns flying the airplane." Quiet and una.s.suming, Walt Ray also liked to hunt. "Right after New Year, Walt took me with him on a RON [remain overnight] in Montana. We did some hunting, spent the night in a motel, and flew home," Roger Andersen remembers. The following day, on the afternoon of January 5, 1967, Walt Ray was flying an Oxcart on a short test flight. At the Ranch, it had been snowing. Walt Ray was pa.s.sing over the tiny town of Farmington, New Mexico, at exactly 3:22 p.m. when he looked down and saw the black line on his fuel gauge move suddenly fuel gauge move suddenly, dramatically, and dangerously to the left.

"I have a loss of fuel and I do not know where it is going," Walt Ray told Colonel Slater through his headset Walt Ray told Colonel Slater through his headset, breaking radio silence to communicate on a radio frequency reserved for emergencies. The transcript would remain cla.s.sified until 2007. "I think I can make it," Walt Ray said. He was 130 miles from the tarmac at Area 51, flying subsonic to conserve fuel. But twenty minutes later, over Hanksville, Utah, Ray declared an emergency. He'd gotten the aircraft down to thirty thousand feet when one of its engines flamed out. The sixty-seven-million-dollar spy plane had run out of fuel.

"I'm ejecting" was the last thing Walt Ray said to Colonel Slater. was the last thing Walt Ray said to Colonel Slater.

When Walt Ray ejected, the seat he was strapped into was propelled away from the airplane by a small rocket. The strings of his parachute became tangled in his seat's headrest, which meant he was unable to separate from his seat unable to separate from his seat. Walt Ray fell thirty thousand feet without a parachute and crashed into the side of a mountain near Leith, Nevada. Within seconds of the pilot's last transmission, Commander Slater gave the order to dispatch three aircraft from Area 51 to go find Walt Ray and whatever was left of his airplane. No one had any idea that the thirty-year-old pilot was already dead. In addition to the fleet of search-and-rescue that took off from Groom Lake, the Air Force dispatched four aircraft and two helicopters from Nellis Air Force Base. The crash site needed to be secured quickly before any civilians arrived on the scene.

Twenty-three hours pa.s.sed. No pilot, no airplane. A U-2 was sent aloft to photograph the general area where Walt Ray was believed to have gone down. While the U-2 pilots flew high, Roger Andersen flew in low, in a T-33 Roger Andersen flew in low, in a T-33. The terrain was challenging, and it was difficult to see the ground. "There was cactus and vegetation everywhere; we had to conserve fuel and fly as low as we could," Andersen explains. Helicopter pilot Charlie Trapp found the aircraft first Charlie Trapp found the aircraft first. "I saw these large film pieces rolling across the top of a ridge," Trapp recalls. "I landed where I could and let my parajumpers jump out. They ran over to the Oxcart, what was left of it, and when they came back they said, 'Walt's not in there and neither is his ejection seat.'" The Oxcart had crashed in the remote high desert on a mountain slope dotted with chaparral. Trapp and his crew went back to Area 51 and, with the navigators' help, mapped out on the board in the command post all the places where Walt Ray might have landed after ejection. Then they went back out and continued the search.

Charlie Trapp found Walt Ray uphill from the crash site, three miles away. "I caught a glimpse of light reflecting from his helmet," Trapp recalls. "He was still in his seat, under a large cedar tree." A perimeter was set up and the dirt roads leading up to the crash site were barricaded and secured by armed guards. Herds of wild horses watched as trucks rolled in and workers carted up the jet wreckage to take back to Groom Lake. The entire process took nine days. After an investigation, officials determined that a faulty fuel gauge was all that was wrong with the triple-sonic spy plane. At first, the gauge had erroneously indicated to Walt Ray he had enough fuel to get back to the Ranch. Minutes later the gauge told him he was about to run out of fuel.

One man's tragedy can become another man's opportunity, which is what happened to Frank Murray after Walt Ray was killed. After the accident, General Ledford came out to the area to partic.i.p.ate in the ensuing investigation. When Ledford was ready to return to Washington, he asked Frank Murray to fly him home. "Up in the air," Murray recalls, "Ledford said to me over the radio, 'How'd you like to fly the plane?' 'How'd you like to fly the plane?' I said, 'Throw me in that puddle, boss' and that was about the extent of the pilot-selection process for me." Murray was given Walt Ray's call sign of Dutch 20. No longer a chase pilot, Murray was now part of the CIA's elite team of overhead espionage pilots. I said, 'Throw me in that puddle, boss' and that was about the extent of the pilot-selection process for me." Murray was given Walt Ray's call sign of Dutch 20. No longer a chase pilot, Murray was now part of the CIA's elite team of overhead espionage pilots.

Defense Department officials used the tragic death of Walt Ray and the loss of another CIA aircraft to their advantage. The Office of the Budget and the Office of the Secretary of Defense met alone, in secret, without representation from the CIA. There, they highlighted the fact that the CIA's several-hundred-million-dollar black budget operation had produced fifteen airplanes, five of which had already crashed. They presented their findings to President Johnson with the recommendation that the Oxcart program be "phased out."

Richard Helms was furious. In an eight-page letter to the president eight-page letter to the president, he told Johnson that to mothball the Oxcart would be a scandalous waste of an a.s.set a scandalous waste of an a.s.set. The CIA had successfully and meticulously managed 435 spy plane overflights by the U-2 in thirty hostile countries, and only one, the Gary Powers crash, had produced an international incident, Helms said. But the Gary Powers incident had actually strengthened Gary Powers incident had actually strengthened the argument as to why the CIA, not the Air Force, should run the spy plane program, Helms explained. It was because Powers was an intelligence officer, and not a military man, that the Soviets hadn't taken retaliatory action against the United States. Ultimately Powers had been released in a Soviet spy exchange. Helms further strengthened his argument by stating that, unlike the military, the argument as to why the CIA, not the Air Force, should run the spy plane program, Helms explained. It was because Powers was an intelligence officer, and not a military man, that the Soviets hadn't taken retaliatory action against the United States. Ultimately Powers had been released in a Soviet spy exchange. Helms further strengthened his argument by stating that, unlike the military, the CIA "controls no nuclear weapons the CIA "controls no nuclear weapons, which rules out any propaganda suggestion that an irrational act by some subordinate commander might precipitate a nuclear war." Helms had a point. But would the president see things his way But would the president see things his way?

The following month, in February of 1967, Colonel Slater was again summoned to Washington. It was his fifth trip in six months. In a roomful of 303 Committee members, Slater was told the Oxcart would be terminated effective January 1, 1968. There was no room for debate. The Oxcart's fate had been decided. The case was closed. Slater was instructed to return to Area 51 Slater was instructed to return to Area 51 and keep his squadron operations ready while the Air Force's SR-71 Blackbird pa.s.sed its final flight tests. Even though Colonel Slater was Air Force to his core he was very much for the CIA's Oxcart program. Slater was the program's commander, and at that moment, the Oxcart was undeniably the most remarkable aircraft in the world. and keep his squadron operations ready while the Air Force's SR-71 Blackbird pa.s.sed its final flight tests. Even though Colonel Slater was Air Force to his core he was very much for the CIA's Oxcart program. Slater was the program's commander, and at that moment, the Oxcart was undeniably the most remarkable aircraft in the world.

Colonel Slater had flown himself to Washington in an F-101 and now he had to fly himself home. He was uncharacteristically disheartened by it all. Stopping at Wright-Patterson Air Force Base to refuel, Slater showed his identification doc.u.ments, which pushed him to the front of the refueling line, ahead of a two-star general ahead of a two-star general who had been waiting there. With everyone staring at him and wondering who this officer was, Slater considered the irony of it all. In justifying why Oxcart was being terminated, the 303 Committee claimed that the Oxcart exemplified CIA black budget excess. From Slater's perspective, save for a few line-cutting perks, the Oxcart was worth every Agency dime. The scientific barriers broken by the Oxcart program would likely impress scientists and engineers in another thirty years. It was the incredible sense of achievement shared by everyone involved that Slater would miss most. But so it goes, thought Slater. Oxcart would never get a mission, and the American public would probably never know what the CIA had been able to accomplish, in total secrecy, at Groom Lake-at least not for a long time. who had been waiting there. With everyone staring at him and wondering who this officer was, Slater considered the irony of it all. In justifying why Oxcart was being terminated, the 303 Committee claimed that the Oxcart exemplified CIA black budget excess. From Slater's perspective, save for a few line-cutting perks, the Oxcart was worth every Agency dime. The scientific barriers broken by the Oxcart program would likely impress scientists and engineers in another thirty years. It was the incredible sense of achievement shared by everyone involved that Slater would miss most. But so it goes, thought Slater. Oxcart would never get a mission, and the American public would probably never know what the CIA had been able to accomplish, in total secrecy, at Groom Lake-at least not for a long time.

Colonel Slater waited for his airplane to be refueled and thought about the journey home, likely his last from DC to Area 51. It was a mistake to cancel Oxcart, Slater thought. But he also knew that his opinion didn't matter. His skills as a commander were what he was counted on for. He would return to Area 51 and, like all good military men, follow orders.

Three months later, on a balmy spring day in May of 1967, Colonel Slater decided he was going to take the Oxcart for a last ride. Some of the pilots had four hundred hours in the air in the Oxcart. Walt Ray had had 358 when he died. Colonel Slater had only ten. Why not take the world's most scientifically advanced aircraft out for a ride while he still had the chance? Soon, the Oxcart would disappear into the experimental-test-plane graveyard. There, it would collect dust in some secret military hangar way out in Palmdale, California, where no one would ever fly it again. Slater went to visit Werner Weiss Slater went to visit Werner Weiss to see if Weiss could arrange for Slater to take one last Mach 3 ride. to see if Weiss could arrange for Slater to take one last Mach 3 ride.

"Consider it done," Werner Weiss said to Colonel Slater's request.

Up in the air, Slater quickly took the Oxcart to seventy thousand feet. Slater had forgotten how light the Oxcart was. It had an airframe like a b.u.t.terfly, which allowed pilots to get it up so high. Flying at Mach 2.5 made things hot inside the c.o.c.kpit. It was like an oven set on warm. If Slater were to take off his glove and touch the window, he'd get a second-degree burn. He moved up to Mach 3 cruising speed at ninety thousand feet, traveling the seven hundred miles to Billings, Montana, in about twenty-three minutes.

The fallacy was that at this height and speed, a pilot could look out the window and take in the view. You couldn't. Even when you reached cruising height, you had to keep your eyes on every gauge, oscillator, and scope in front of you. There were too many things to pay attention to. Too many things that could go wrong.

Colonel Slater headed toward the Canadian border, where he took a left turn and flew along the U.S. perimeter until he reached Washington State. There, he took another left turn and flew down over Oregon and into California. Finally, he took the aircraft down to twenty-five thousand feet and prepared for a scheduled refuel. Minutes later, Slater met up with the KC-135 that had been dispatched from the Air Force's 903rd Air Refueling Squadron out of Beale Air Force Base in Yuba County, California.

The process of taking on fuel was one of the more dangerous things an Oxcart pilot could do. In order to connect its fuel line to the tanker, the aircraft had to slow down to between 350 and 450 mph, so slow it could barely keep its grip on the sky. The issue of speed was equally taxing on the flying fuel tank. The KC-135 tanker had to travel at its top speed just to keep up with the slowed-down triple-sonic airplane. This was always a slightly nerve-racking process, complicated for Colonel Slater by the fact that a call came in over the emergency radio at exactly that time. Whatever was going on back at Area 51 that merited this emergency call was most likely not a welcome event.

Slater answered. It was Colonel Paul Bacalis, the man who'd taken over Ledford's job as director of the Office of Special Activities for the CIA. Bacalis told Slater that an urgent call had come in for him from the Pentagon and he should get back to Area 51 immediately.

"I'm refueling," Colonel Slater said.

"Finish and dump it," Bacalis said.

"Can't it wait?" Colonel Slater asked.

"No," Bacalis said. "Where are you?"

"I'm over California," Colonel Slater said.

"Head out to sea, dump the fuel, and come home" was Colonel Bacalis's command.

Slater let loose forty thousand pounds of fuel and watched it evaporate into the atmosphere. It was critical that he save ten thousand gallons of fuel to get home, not much more and definitely not less. Too little fuel and you wound up like Walt Ray. Too much fuel meant the aircraft could blow out its brakes on landing and overshoot the runway. Now, Slater needed to make a quick U-turn to head home. When traveling three times the speed of sound, the Oxcart needed 186 miles of s.p.a.ce just to make the hook. This meant Slater's U-turn took him from off the coast of Big Sur to high above Santa Barbara on a tight curve.

When Slater got back to base, Werner Weiss and Colonel Bacalis were waiting in his office. Both men wore grins. Colonel Bacalis dialed the Pentagon and handed Slater the telephone. As the phone rang, Bacalis told Slater what was happening so as to prepare him for the call.

Colonel Slater couldn't believe his ears.

"'The president has given Oxcart a go,'" Slater recalls Bacalis saying, and that "orders are en route." Then came the ultimate challenge-one for which he was prepared. Bacalis asked Slater if he could deploy his men for Oxcart missions starting in fifteen days.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

Operation Black Shield and the Secret History of the USS Pueblo Pueblo The new director of the CIA, Richard M. Helms, had to work hard to become a member of President Johnson's inner coterie. The president had once told his CIA director that he "never found much use for intelligence." "never found much use for intelligence." But eventually Helms managed to acquire a coveted seat at the president's Tuesday lunch table. There, President Johnson and his closest advisers discussed foreign policy each week. Outsiders called the luncheons Target Tuesdays because so much of what was discussed involved which North Vietnamese city to bomb. In 1967, air battles were raging in the skies over Hanoi and Haiphong with so many more American pilots getting shot down than enemy pilots that the ratio became nine to one. The Pentagon had been unable to locate the surface-to-air missile sites in North Vietnam responsible for so many of the shoot-downs although they'd been looking for them all year. Thirty-seven U-2 missions had been flown since January, as had hundreds of low-flying Air Force drones. Still, the Pentagon had no clear sense of where exactly the Communist missile sites were located. There were other fears. The Russians were rumored to be supplying the North Vietnamese with surface-to-surface missiles, ones with enough range to reach American troops stationed in the south. But eventually Helms managed to acquire a coveted seat at the president's Tuesday lunch table. There, President Johnson and his closest advisers discussed foreign policy each week. Outsiders called the luncheons Target Tuesdays because so much of what was discussed involved which North Vietnamese city to bomb. In 1967, air battles were raging in the skies over Hanoi and Haiphong with so many more American pilots getting shot down than enemy pilots that the ratio became nine to one. The Pentagon had been unable to locate the surface-to-air missile sites in North Vietnam responsible for so many of the shoot-downs although they'd been looking for them all year. Thirty-seven U-2 missions had been flown since January, as had hundreds of low-flying Air Force drones. Still, the Pentagon had no clear sense of where exactly the Communist missile sites were located. There were other fears. The Russians were rumored to be supplying the North Vietnamese with surface-to-surface missiles, ones with enough range to reach American troops stationed in the south.

Which is how the Oxcart, already scheduled for cancellation, serendipitously got its mission-during a Target Tuesday lunch Target Tuesday lunch. On May 16, 1967, Helms made one last play on behalf of the CIA's beloved spy plane, nine years in the making but just a few days away from being mothballed for good. Helms told the president Helms told the president that by deploying the Oxcart on missions over North Vietnam, war planners could get those high-resolution photographs of the missile sites they had been looking for. "Sharp point photographs, not smudged circles," Helms promised the president. Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara, angling hard for Air Force control of aerial reconnaissance, had promised the president that the SR-71 Blackbird, the Air Force version of the Oxcart, was almost operations-ready. But the mission had to happen now, CIA director Helms told the president. It was already May. Come June, Southeast Asia would be inundated with monsoons. Weather was critical for good photographs, Helms said. Cameras can't photograph through clouds. President Johnson was convinced. Before the dessert arrived, Johnson authorized the CIA's Oxcart to deploy to Kadena Air Base on Okinawa, j.a.pan. that by deploying the Oxcart on missions over North Vietnam, war planners could get those high-resolution photographs of the missile sites they had been looking for. "Sharp point photographs, not smudged circles," Helms promised the president. Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara, angling hard for Air Force control of aerial reconnaissance, had promised the president that the SR-71 Blackbird, the Air Force version of the Oxcart, was almost operations-ready. But the mission had to happen now, CIA director Helms told the president. It was already May. Come June, Southeast Asia would be inundated with monsoons. Weather was critical for good photographs, Helms said. Cameras can't photograph through clouds. President Johnson was convinced. Before the dessert arrived, Johnson authorized the CIA's Oxcart to deploy to Kadena Air Base on Okinawa, j.a.pan.

It was a coup for the CIA. By the following morning, the airlift to Kadena from Area 51 had begun. The 1129th Special Activities Squadron was being deployed for Operation Black Shield. A million pounds of materiel, 260 support crew A million pounds of materiel, 260 support crew, six pilots, and three airplanes were en route to the East China Sea. Nine years after Kelly Johnson presented physicist Edward Lovick with his drawing of the first Oxcart, Johnson would write in his log notes: "the bird should leave the nest." "the bird should leave the nest."

Kadena Air Base was located on the island of Okinawa just north of the Tropic of Cancer in the East China Sea. It was an island scarred by a violent backstory, haunted by hundreds of thousands of war dead. Okinawa had been home to the single largest land-sea-air battle in the history of the world. This was the same plot of land where, twenty-two years earlier, the Allied Forces fought the j.a.panese. Okinawa was the last island before mainland j.a.pan. Over the course of eighty-two days in the spring of 1945, the battle for the Pacific reached its zenith. At Okinawa, American casualties would total 38,000 wounded and 12,000 killed or missing. j.a.pan's losses were inconceivable in today's wars: 107,000 soldiers dead and as many as 100,000 civilians killed. When Lieutenant General Ushijima Mitsuru finally capitulated, giving the island over to U.S. forces on June 21, 1945, he did so with so much shame in his heart that he committed suicide the following day. Thousands of Okinawans felt the same way and leaped off the island's high coral walls. After the smoke settled and the blood soaked into the earth, Okinawa belonged to the U.S. military. Two decades later, it still did.

By the time Ken Collins stepped foot on Okinawa, the Kadena Air Base occupied more than 10 percent of the island and accounted for nearly 40 percent of all islanders' income nearly 40 percent of all islanders' income. The 1129th Special Activities Squadron was stationed at a secluded part of the base, the place from where Operation Black Shield would launch. No one was supposed to know the squadron was there. The project pilots were to keep an extremely low profile to keep an extremely low profile, living in a simple arrangement of Quonset huts almost identical to those at Area 51. Instead of on the sand-and-sagebrush landscape at Area 51, the facilities on Kadena sat in fields of green gra.s.s. Leafy ficus trees grew along little pathways. It was spring when the pilots arrived, which meant tropical flowers were in full bloom. The pilots' residence was called Morgan Manor. An American cook kept the pilots fed, serving up high-protein diets on request. On days off the pilots drank bottled beer. Sometimes the men ventured out to have a drink or eat a meal at the officers' club, where a full Filipino orchestra always played American dance tunes.

The Oxcart mission was covert and cla.s.sified, and there would be "no plausible cover story" "no plausible cover story" as to why an oddly shaped, triple-sonic aircraft would be flying in and out of the air base with regularity for the next year. For this reason, the Joint Chiefs of Staff suggested that Commander Slater "focus on security, not cover." One idea was to "create the illusion of some sort of environmental or technical testing involved." But no one believed that cover story would hold. Within a week of the first Oxcart landing on the tarmac at Kadena, an ominous-looking Russian trawler sailed into port and anch.o.r.ed within viewing distance of the extralong runway. "The Russians knew we were there and we knew they knew we were there," Colonel Slater recalls. as to why an oddly shaped, triple-sonic aircraft would be flying in and out of the air base with regularity for the next year. For this reason, the Joint Chiefs of Staff suggested that Commander Slater "focus on security, not cover." One idea was to "create the illusion of some sort of environmental or technical testing involved." But no one believed that cover story would hold. Within a week of the first Oxcart landing on the tarmac at Kadena, an ominous-looking Russian trawler sailed into port and anch.o.r.ed within viewing distance of the extralong runway. "The Russians knew we were there and we knew they knew we were there," Colonel Slater recalls.

Impossible as it seemed, the first Oxcart mission the first Oxcart mission over the demilitarized zone in North Vietnam occurred as promised, just fifteen days after Helms made history for the CIA at that Target Tuesday lunch in May. CIA pilot Mele Vojvodich was a.s.signed the first mission. He took off at 11:00 a.m. local time in a torrential downpour-the Oxcart's first real ride in the rain. In the little more than nine minutes Vojvodich spent over North Vietnam, at a speed of Mach 3.1 and an alt.i.tude of 80,000 feet, the Oxcart photographed 70 of the 190 suspected surface-to-air missile sites. The mission went totally undetected by the Chinese and the North Vietnamese. over the demilitarized zone in North Vietnam occurred as promised, just fifteen days after Helms made history for the CIA at that Target Tuesday lunch in May. CIA pilot Mele Vojvodich was a.s.signed the first mission. He took off at 11:00 a.m. local time in a torrential downpour-the Oxcart's first real ride in the rain. In the little more than nine minutes Vojvodich spent over North Vietnam, at a speed of Mach 3.1 and an alt.i.tude of 80,000 feet, the Oxcart photographed 70 of the 190 suspected surface-to-air missile sites. The mission went totally undetected by the Chinese and the North Vietnamese.

After the first mission was completed, the film was sent to a special processing center inside the Eastman Kodak plant in Rochester, New York. But by the time the photographic intelligence got back by the time the photographic intelligence got back to field commanders in Vietnam, the intelligence was already several days old. The North Vietnamese were moving missile sites and mock-ups of missile sites around faster than anyone could keep track of them. The CIA realized it needed a dramatically faster turn-around time, which resulted in a photo center being quickly set up on the mainland in j.a.pan. Soon, field commanders had intel in their hands just twenty-four hours from the completion of an Oxcart mission over North Vietnam. to field commanders in Vietnam, the intelligence was already several days old. The North Vietnamese were moving missile sites and mock-ups of missile sites around faster than anyone could keep track of them. The CIA realized it needed a dramatically faster turn-around time, which resulted in a photo center being quickly set up on the mainland in j.a.pan. Soon, field commanders had intel in their hands just twenty-four hours from the completion of an Oxcart mission over North Vietnam.

Still, that did not stop the North Vietnamese from moving their missiles around and avoiding bombing raids. They had help from the Soviet Union. "That was the reason for the Russian trawler parked at the end of the Kadena runway. Someone was watching and taking notes every time we flew," recalls Roger Andersen, who was stationed in the command post on Kadena, which he'd been in charge of setting up. "It was almost identical to the command post at Area 51, except it was smaller," Andersen says.

On Kadena, the operations officers tried to trick the Russian spies in the trawler by flying at night, and yet of the first seven Black Shield missions flown, four were "detected and tracked." four were "detected and tracked." The North Vietnamese were able to predict Oxcart's overhead pa.s.s based on the time the aircraft left the base. With this information relayed by the Russians, the Communists' Fan Song guidance radar was able to lock on the A-12's beacon. The The North Vietnamese were able to predict Oxcart's overhead pa.s.s based on the time the aircraft left the base. With this information relayed by the Russians, the Communists' Fan Song guidance radar was able to lock on the A-12's beacon. The first attempted shoot-down first attempted shoot-down happened during Operation Black Shield's sixteenth mission. In photographs taken by the Oxcart, contrails of surface-to-air missiles can be seen below. Fortunately for the pilots, the missiles could not get up as high as the Oxcart. In this newest round of cat and mouse, Oxcart was resulting in a draw. Oxcart was fast, high, and stealthy. The aircraft could not be shot down. But the enemy knew the plane was there, meaning it was a long way from being invisible as Richard Bissell and President Eisenhower had originally planned. happened during Operation Black Shield's sixteenth mission. In photographs taken by the Oxcart, contrails of surface-to-air missiles can be seen below. Fortunately for the pilots, the missiles could not get up as high as the Oxcart. In this newest round of cat and mouse, Oxcart was resulting in a draw. Oxcart was fast, high, and stealthy. The aircraft could not be shot down. But the enemy knew the plane was there, meaning it was a long way from being invisible as Richard Bissell and President Eisenhower had originally planned.

For American pilots flying over North Vietnam, the real danger remained down low, halfway between Oxcart and the earth, at around forty-five thousand feet. That was where the surface-to-air missiles and the MiG fighter jets were shooting down U.S. pilots at the horrifying nine-to-one rate. Ken Collins recalled what this felt like at the time: "During Black Shield, we, as pilots, were relatively safe at eighty-five thousand feet. It was the pilots who were flying lower than us who were really the ones in harm's way. These were guys most of us had been in the Air Force with, before we got sheep-dipped and began flying for the CIA."

Extraordinary pilots like Hervey Stockman. Stockman had been the first man to fly over the Soviet Union in a U-2, on July 4, 1956. Eleven years later, on June 11, 1967, Stockman was flying over North Vietnam, searching for information about North Vietnam weapons depots, when he was involved in a midair crash when he was involved in a midair crash. A pilot of exceptional skill and remarkable courage, Stockman was on his 310th mission in a career that had covered three wars when his F-4 C Phantom fighter jet collided with another airplane in his wing. He and Ronald Webb both survived the bailout. Upon landing, they were captured by North Vietnamese soldiers, beaten, and taken prisoner. Stockman would spend the next five years and 268 days as a prisoner of war in a seven-by-seven-foot cell. First he was housed in the notoriously brutal Hanoi Hilton. Later, he was moved to other, equally grim prisons over the course of his incarceration. During Black Shield, the CIA tasked Oxcart pilots with search missions to find U.S. airmen who'd gone down to find U.S. airmen who'd gone down over North Vietnam. The cameras on the Oxcarts took miles of photographs, seeking information on the prison complexes where American heroes like Hervey Stockman and hundreds of other POWs were being held, but to no avail. The North Vietnamese moved captured POWs around almost as often as they moved missile sites around. over North Vietnam. The cameras on the Oxcarts took miles of photographs, seeking information on the prison complexes where American heroes like Hervey Stockman and hundreds of other POWs were being held, but to no avail. The North Vietnamese moved captured POWs around almost as often as they moved missile sites around.