CHAPTER II: PIECES OF THE PUZZLE COME TOGETHER

Now that I have introduced you to the theory and possibilities, I will now get down to the nitty gritties of flying saucer nuts and bolts, and tell you how I discovered them, step by step, in an Odyssey which lasts even unto the present, as I fill in more and more of the details.

My “odyssey” has involved some remarkable experiences and dangers which, in a way, remind me of a movie I saw a few years ago called Zardoz, starring Sean Connery. The title was derived from parts of the title words spelling “Wizard of Oz”, on the cover of the book by L. Frank Baum. The story in Zardoz entailed the education of Connery by a secret elite. Connery played a murderous barbarian, through whom the elite, who had the secret of immortality, wanted to finally destroy themselves, because they had become tired of living.

They arranged for tidbits of information to be made available to the barbarian, until he figured out that they were deceiving the violent society in which he lived, through a religious hoax, preaching constant destruction and war, and spewing out weapons from a giant head, for the barbarian worshippers to use against each other, while the elite lived in complete safety, with the secret of immortality as well. As you may see, there are certain parallels between my story and Zardoz, although I am not admitting that the society into which I was born tried to completely raise me as a barbarian, or that the elite which dominates us has any intent of bringing their power to an end The many “revelations” I have experienced, have appeared before me as if intentionally placed there by some clandestine elite. That did not happen to my knowledge, but it is creative and fun to imagine that it did.

Some have suggested that the fact that so many startling ‘revelations’ have seemed to have ‘appeared’ to me “alone”, is “statistically challenging”. The fact is, they appeared to me only because I was aware of them and not asleep. Had I not been aware of them, I would not have known about them I believe that there are astounding events occurring around many people, who, if they were aware of them, and mentioned them to others, as I have done, would also be accused of telling “statistically challenging” stories. I make no claim to having any “mystical powers” which would allow me to experience things others do not. What I do make claim to is the development of my natural skills to notice such things, so that if they occur, I will recognize them.

It is too bad that the analogy of Zardoz does not fully apply to the Trilateral Commission, since they deserve to be destroyed, as punishment for the many wars they fomented, and are still fomenting, to needlessly sacrifice so many lives for an illicit profit, and to reduce the population according to parameters which only they know about, but which we can surmise.

As you will see in this book, this analogy as applied to our society and its Secret Government is more appropriate than the typical Corporate Serf will allow himself to believe. He gets up each morning in the “burbs, and drives to his job at the Feudal Corporation. He takes his Stepford Wife and love-starved children to the Church of the Brain-Dead War Robots on Sunday, and prays to the Lord of Collective Guilt for forgiveness, for the sin of having daydreamed about living a real
life. He indiscriminately accepts the premises that he is “his brother’s keeper”, that the Marxist graduated federal income tax and the welfare system are the best way to enforce his religion on others through the state, as part of ‘God’s plan under our constitution’, and that the Founding Fathers fully intended for our armed forces to police the whole goddamned world no matter what the cost in taxes and loss of American lives.

He doesn’t know that the government records every single phone call in America and stores it for a period of two weeks...and longer if they have a reason to suspect a person of belonging to a “conspiracy of freedom”...and can store that purloined information forever (but if he did know all that, he would believe the government had the legitimate power to do so under the “general welfare” provision of the Article I, section 8 of the U.S. Constitution). He doesn’t believe in flying saucers at all, but if he did, he would think they were “signs in the sky” which the Old Testament said would be seen in the “last days’, or the “wheel in the sky” seen by the prophet Ezekiel. The CIA has used all these suggestions.

The flying saucer I saw in 1953 was no prophetic “sign in the sky”, but presented a genuine scientific mystery. I saw no sense in attempting to address every theory of gravity propounded by others, since they were obviously wrong. I didn’t waste time with UFO reports or “updates” of every type either. Government organizations like Project Blue Book were just set up to plug leaks anyway. You are already familiar with what others have said, and are obviously unsatisfied, because you are now reading my book. So I will at least try to tell you how flying saucers work, and what my theory of gravity is, while others pretend that flying saucers are non-existent or “extraterrestrial” and that gravity is still a “mystery”.

They look in vain for “waves” and “particles” (such as the “graviton”), and have really found nothing. Their experiments are only part of the Trilateralist science sham, and since they are still looking, they must not know, right? So I will stick my neck out, and give you my best shot. If what they say is really the extent of their knowledge, then the flying saucer would be one of those inventions which worked, but nobody who used it knew why, so if they really don’t know, then I should be entitled to the Nobel Prize in physics (which is out of the question), or the Pulitzer Prize for Journalism (which I should get!).

THE ODYSSEY BEGINS

My “flying saucer odyssey” began with an infantile boy’s experiences with airplanes. My uncle, Roger Benton, had a Stearman biplane in the late ‘30s and early ‘40s, which he used for crop-dusting and any other hell or hair-raising, dangerous, daredevil-type fun activity. When I was around three, Roger flew into my grandfather’s (“Papa Benton’s”) field one day. Like a kid, Papa wanted a ride. Roger was a “chip off the old block”, and inherited his love of excitement from his father. So, instead of a bronco, Papa wanted a ride in the plane.

Roger took Papa up and gave him quite a thrill, especially when he looped the plane, and Papa had forgotten to fasten his safety belt. He saved himself only by locking his knees under the instrument panel, and hanging onto the joy stick. When Roger landed, Papa was still grinning, with a pale fringe about his lips and eyes revealing his narrow scrape with disaster. But that was part of the usual for those two.

I fell in love with planes that day, as I waved to Roger, and he disappeared into the clouds.

My second ‘big’ plane impression was when I was around four, in 1942. Our neighbor had gone into flight training, and was stationed at a base which was near enough for him to buzz the neighborhood while on training flights. One morning, after a storm had flash-flooded the street in front of our little stucco house, with around a foot of standing water, I was wading in the street and gathering frogs which seemed to come from nowhere, since we lived on a desert. As I stood in the
water-filled street, the flying neighbor came over, diving toward me while rocking his wings.

His pull-out was almost too late, as I stood with my hands upraised, touching one of the wheels with my fingertips as the plane passed over me, narrowly missing me with its prop as my mother stood horrified in the front yard. Quite unaware of the danger I had experienced, this to me had a very personal meaning, rather like the two reaching hands in the Sistine Chapel mural by Michelangelo.

My fingers reached up as the ‘wheel from the sky’ reached down, and ‘contact’ was made.

In 1942, my father joined the Sea Bees. After boot camp at Camp LeJeune, the Navy convinced him to transfer to the regular Navy, because of his wife and three children, since the mortality rate for the See Bees at that time was 97%. He was sent to San Francisco, to set up and run the west coast Navy printing operation at San Francisco Naval Depot. Our whole family soon moved to Oakland, in 1943. For those two years in California, my life was immersed with being a “Navy brat”, with weekends in San Francisco, and my frequent walks to the Museum of Oceanic Art, in Oakland.

At six (1944), I found a German spy’s short-wave radio, set up in the back of a trash bin behind a grocery store near our apartment building. Navy intelligence allowed me to keep it, along with another my father had found in 1942, under a bed in a hotel room during his first trip to San Francisco. A neighbor and I connected the marvelous radios to his father’s antenna, and we “listened to WW II”. The German shortwaves were fantastic, and I have never seen another like them My mother threw them away one day because I forgot to remove them from the living room floor after repeated warnings.

My mother and three kids returned to Texas for the last year of the war, staying at my grandparents’ place in Dayton, Texas, around forty miles east of Houston. (I later realized that this had been because of the Navy’s test of the first American nuclear explosion at Port Chicago, California, on the Sacramento River, prior to the nuclear detonation at Trinity Site on White Sands Missile Range in New Mexico.)

After the war, our family returned to West Texas, where I resumed my interest in experimental aircraft, building many flying models. I took a strong interest in aerodynamics, and made hundreds of well-executed designs, plotted aerodynamic flow patterns, and even did some improvised wind tunnel tests. I belonged to the West Texas Model Airplane Club, organized by three or four WW II aces, including Bill Decker, Don Wooten, and a man named McKinzie (who purportedly was highly decorated), and others. Around 1952, at fourteen, I delivered a paper to the group and its affiliate in Odessa, Texas, on the feasibility of a glider and soaring competition, suggesting Marfa, Texas, as an ideal site.

This meeting was attended by several men and boys from Odessa, such as Wally Scott and Mr. Schleymeyer, who later became international competitors, and there is now an annual international glider and soaring competitition meet at Marfa. I wasn’t able to be the first to start it, because my father had caught me building a full-sized glider, using our living room floor as a lofting surface, and scrapped my plans right away, because he feared I might break my neck. But that lecture, in my fourteenth year, was the beginning of the international glider competition at Marfa, started by men who had heard my lecture.

Our town, Kermit, was around 325 miles E-S-E of White Sands Proving Grounds and Alamogordo, New Mexico. My first memories of “flying discs” (the first designation) and “flying saucers” (the second designation) which were sighted in the area, was in 1946, even before the 1947 “Mount Shasta” siting. Before I had seen a saucer in daylight, I had heard reports of them from oilfield pumpers who worked the area northward, near Jal, Carlsbad and Roswell, New Mexico, and had gotten other first-hand reports from several people who had seen them.

From those reports, I knew that saucers were real, because that was before reports of them had appeared in newspapers, and the people sighting them really had no motive to say they had seen them unless it was true, since there was no sensationalism associated with the phenomenon. Some of these people had served in the Army Air Corps during the war, fighting in the skies of Germans’, either as pilots, navigators, flight engineers, crew, gunners, or bombardiers, and often compared them to the “foo-fighters”. I had watched the ships maneuvering at night, but had never seen one in broad daylight, at close range, until 1953, although I had seen several discs high in the sky, at great distances, which looked like new dimes glinting in the sun, in the Roswell vicinity.

By 1950, 1 had talked to many people who had seen saucers over the area, and was getting impatient. I slept in our back yard for nine months each year (the warmer months usually), and had observed whole squadrons of them in the night sky. I noticed that they had a peculiar habit of turning in increments of thirty degrees, or multiples thereof. This divided the compass into twelve coordinate directions, and indicated something about their navigational and flight system.
Between 1950 and 1953, I hoped for a sighting, and never assumed that they were anything other than secret government aircraft from New Mexico.

My mother had heard the rumor that they were connected to the A.E.C. and radiation, and that they were nuclear-powered, using helium fuel. We had many friends all over New Mexico, particularly the Roswell area, Alamogordo, and Deming, because our family business was the only state-of-the-art decorating source in the area between Ft. Worth, El Paso, and Albuquerque, for several years, until 1954 or so.

By 1952, 1 had developed a proficiency at aerodynamics, had designed and tested many experimental model aircraft, and had designed, built and tested my “ground-effects” system for autos, using a model with two engines, one to drive the wheels and the other to drive a prop on the back, which sucked air from under the belly pan. I planned on a career as an aerodynamicist and aeronautical design engineer, along with a career in art. I had, in effect, prepared my mind and senses to make rather specific observations, whenever the time came for me to have the opportunity to see a saucer up close, which I was convinced was in the near future.

I had already been carefully building and testing flying model airplanes of every conceivable design, for seven years, since 1946 (when I was eight), and considered aeronautical design, aerodynamics, maneuverability, and performance characteristics as serious matters. I had also flown so many conventional and experimental designs that I could usually analyze a particular configuration and predict its aerodynamic behavior. I knew from my two 1952 propeller-driven flying saucers (powered by an “Allard 19” engine), that vertical stabilizers were essential on “flying pancake”-type designs. No fins had been seen by any of my witnesses on the saucers they had observed.

This was already two years after the saucers had been sighted near our house, during which time I had hoped for a sighting. Yet, with all my intense interest in aircraft, I would not ride in a real airplane until I caught a hop’ from Keesler, A.F.B., Mississippi to Texas, in a general’s C-47, when I was an 18-year-old Air Force trainee.

In the summer of 1950, during the time of the sightings, I had gone to the Buffalo Trail Scout Ranch in the Davis Mountains, for a two-week bivouac with my troop.
During my stay in the mountains, cut off from the outside world, after returning from a trek lasting several days, we discovered that Manchurian tanks had rolled across the 38th Parallel in Korea. On return home, I had learned that, on the first day of the Korean War, a flying saucer had appeared in broad daylight, above the city hall across the street from our house, and had maneuvered for fifteen minutes, and that, on the following day, two saucers had appeared, and maneuvered for thirty minutes. In each case, my mother was the first one to spot them

She taught China painting classes as part of our family business. On each of the two days, she went outside to fill her bowl with water and rinse out slip, with water from a faucet on our front porch. Being a farmer’s daughter, she had a habit of surveying the sky for weather signs, shielding her eyes from the sun’s glare with her hand. When she sighted the first saucer over the City Hall on June 25, 1950, she called her ceramics class out to watch, and hailed the firemen and police across the street along with the mayor, Fred Pearson. The excitement spread, and within a few minutes, much of the town was watching. When it left, it departed in an upward blaze of instant acceleration. Mother said they were like “new silver dollars”, and I distinctly remember her comparing them to her sewing machine bobbin, which meant the flat, shiny, “disk” type with peripheral groove.

On the next day, the same sequence occurred, only with two saucers appearing and maneuvering for around thirty minutes, then departing very fast as before. In each case, the description sounded as if the crews had experienced malfunctions, or were lost, which were responsible for the saucers being there in the first place, rather than over White Sands or Alamogordo. I later determined that these first saucers appeared to be of a sleek, silvery, slightly older “disk” type of WW II-vintage German design of the electric type, not similar in any way to the dumpy and “top-like” kind often shown in pulp magazines. It was my opinion at the time, that they were preparing these saucers for observational use in Korea.

I was disgruntled that I had not seen them, because I just happened to be out of town, although I was only a short distance south of White Sands, and only a little over a hundred miles to the west of Kermit at the time, in the Davis Mountains. I “debriefed” everyone I could find, including my friend Ken Burroughs, who was a competent young photographer who had photographed them Air Force Intelligence showed up, paid Ken $250.00 for his photos, prints and negatives, and made him sign a security document. Needless to say, the photos were never published. That was a lot of money for a teenager in 1952, for a few snapshots.

By that time, I had designed over 250 different types of experimental aircraft, rockets, cars, and even boats, and had built and tested numerous models of them. As previously mentioned, I had also built a couple of propeller-driven model flying saucers, and already knew that props, jets, and rockets were not the means of propulsioa In 1955, my father accidentally included my portfolio of designs in a collection of unwanted furniture he carted away and sold to a junk store, when we moved to Waco.

It was possible that some of my designs found their way into the rocket and aircraft fields, judging from material I saw when I worked in Air Force Intelligence in 1957, since my book containing them was purchased from the junk dealer, whose store was right on Highway 302, before I could get it back.
 

MY FIRST DAYLIGHT SIGHTING

In late summer, 1953, just before school began, we had our last family ice cream party of the summer, in our back yard Home made ice cream had been a tradition in our family for as long as I can remember. There were my parents, Raymond and Caleista, my older sister, Ramona, and my younger sister, Liz. Liz sat on a towel placed on top of the large, wood-sided, old fashioned, three-gallon ice cream freezer, as I turned the crank, while my father chopped ice and fed salt into the brine. The ice cream was almost ready, and I could barely turn the crank We were joined by the young daughter of our neighbor, Allen Pike, a former fullback at T.C.U. Pike’s daughter, Carla, had been wistfully looking through the fence, her mouth watering at die possibility of eating some of my mother’s delicious peach ice cream, so we invited her over to join us. We were also joined by our tenants, the Humphries.

Mr. Humphries was a leather-faced tool pusher for a local drilling company, and Mrs. Humphries still carried herself with the demeanor of her former wartime occupation as an officer in the “W.A.C.s” (Women’s Army Air Corps). She had eyes like a hawk, and had already been an expert shot with pistol and rifle, before she took up and mastered the twin 50 caliber machine gun.

She had light brown hair, and a beautiful aquiline profile like that of a Kiowa princess, similar to that of my Aunt Sina. She worked as a substitute teacher in our junior high school, and had also been the former WWII Chief of Aerial Gunnery Instruction, at the U.S. Army Air Corps Aerial Gunnery School, at Sarasota, Florida, at the rank of captain. Whenever our B-17 bomber crews took gun-camera film of any new German aircraft, such as the infamous “foo fighters”, she was among the first to know, since it was her duty to immediately develop and integrate into her gunnery training program, whatever new instructions required, to insure that our gunners were prepared to defend our bombers from any new forms of enemy assault.

She was therefore not only a qualified expert aircraft spotter and identifier, but was the chief American gunnery instructor as well. I myself had practically memorized Jane’s Handbook of the Aircraft of the World, and had discussed aircraft on several occasions with Mrs. Humphries, who had observed with a cool, detached candor, my construction of flying model saucers, and experiments in electromagnetism.

The time of day was near sundown, with the late August sun around 15 degrees above the horizon on the right, to the west of our yard. We sat near our rear fence, as little Carla, around seven, sat nearby.
As I struggled with the increasingly stubborn crank, while Liz tried to hold the freezer down, and the dasher trudged through the ever-thickening ice cream, I happened to glance up at the sky above Liz’s head, in the direction of a nearby new water tower to the south of the town’s old one. To my amazement, hovering there, at an angle of around 45 degrees above our position, at a distance of around 300 feet and an altitude of about 200 feet, was a flying saucer.

The saucer was precessing at an acute angle of around 45 degrees, at a frequency of around two cycles per second.

Sunlight, from the horizon to our right, shimmered across the striated, silvery, bright metal hull, on each precession. A visual comparison to the water tower near and to the rear of the saucer, showed its diameter to be close to 50 feet. Its shape consisted of two evenly curved semispheres joined at the edges. This was unlike the earlier, 1950 versions seen by my mother and sisters. A cloud of “corona”—high voltage electricity emitted by the hull—throbbed orange-pinkishly with each precession, and scintillated into ghostly, silvery blue in the surrounding space, as a gentle westerly breeze wafted the coronal clouds softly about.

The two entirely symmetrical, “wok-like” halves, each having an arc of approximately 120’ radius of curvature, formed a ship approximately 10’ thick.
The high angle precession created an initial optical illusion, which explained why my mother had mistakenly thought the saucers she saw in 1950 were flipping like coins, end-over-end, while hovering.

Mother’s sightings were in the early afternoon, with the sun almost directly above her saucers, producing a silhouette effect. This created an inverse illusion, by the large angle precession of the elliptical shapes under those lighting conditions. The low angle of the sun during my sighting, however, and the shimmering sunlight dancing across what appeared to be a spun metal hull, which was highly reflective, as the saucer precessed, produced a clear picture of the movement and shape. Even so, I too was initially baffled until I established the proper movement.

The coronal discharge and scintillating, rainbow-colored clouds produced, added a beautiful, ghostly “special effect” to the ship. It was easy to understand why many viewers might get excited by “extraterrestrials”, since the event was almost, but not quite, unearthly.

I immediately exclaimed, “Look at that flying saucer up there!” Everyone looked to see it, except Mrs. Humphries, who only allowed her eyes to dart once at it, instead of staring at the saucer. She was more interested in viewing me from my left, as I looked back and forth between the saucer and her, attempting to get her to look at it. I asked her, “What is that?!” She merely cocked a knowing and sophisticated left eyebrow, and shrugged After perhaps ten seconds of hovering, the saucer began to move slowly at first, due west, toward Ft. Bliss and the southern extreme of White Sands Missile Range.

It left a ‘buttermilk’ trail of silvery, scintillating atmospheric ions, which lingered and sparkled, gradually fading away. As the rate of acceleration and frequency of precession increased, the angle of precession decreased to a mere high-frequency wobble, as it suddenly shot forward to hundreds of miles per hour, at which time it made a 90 degree turn down and a second right angle back to horizontal, then accelerated to infinity, in approximately three seconds, as I counted off “...thousand-and-one, thousand-and-two, thousand-and-three...”.

I roughly calculated the velocity at near 9,000 m.p.h., based on an approximately 7.5 miles distance required for a 50-foot diameter object to become an infinite point above the horizon, in three seconds. This was a minimum calculation, which I believe was fairly accurate. My eyesight was at least 20/30 at the time. The rapid change to lower altitude seemed designed to diminish the visibility of the ship by the public, when the flight crew suddenly realized that they were over a town.

There was no sonic boom, perhaps because such rapid acceleration gave a boom insufficient time to develop, and other reasons which I was bound to discover.
There were no obvious protuberances or windows that I could see on its surface. It was as if, at high speed, the pilots—who may have had relatively primitive navigational, flight control, and visibiliiy devices—had accidentally strayed over our town, or malfunctioned, requiring some re-orientation to get the saucer back to their base at Ft. Bliss or in New Mexico, which, at that speed, would have taken every bit of 1.93 minutes to reach. I later satisfied myself by concluding that it was a German pilot instructing an American pilot, on how to operate the saucer.

Due to poor visibility on the early model, they may not have realized that they were over a town, and when they had, they rapidly departed In that area, at that time, one could fly for miles over the barren Southwestern landscape, without seeing a town or persoa The most significant ‘surprise’—aside from the electrical corona discharge—was the precession and its particularities. Since it was most pronounced when the saucer was hovering, I considered the phenomenon as being closely linked to the power level, in which the ship was on the balance between “gravity” and “no gravity”, during which the circling polarity of the accompanying magnetic field created by the electric currents, swept around counter-clockwise, as well as I remember it, thus creating a minimal sweeping gravitational pull.

The fact that the ship quietly hovered, dispelled the idea that jet, rocket, or propeller-driven propulsion was involved, and indicated an anti-gravitational propulsion by electrical means. I entertained the idea that the ‘gyscopic’ action of the ship may have been due to an internal device, such as an engine, which rotated Since the ship processed while hovering, like a gyroscope on gimbals, any considerable rotating machinery could have produced the gyroscopic precession.

This was consistent with the idea that a rotating engine and electrical generator caused the precession, since the rate of precession increased, while the angle of precession decreased, as the saucer’s acceleration increased. The idea that the propulsion system was “gyroscopic” was negated by the fact that the turn was perpendicular to the (vertical) axis of gyroscopic precession, and was a “power turn”.

The answers to all my questions were delivered by my flying saucer, in as glorious a manner as one could rationally hope for, and then some. While I knew at the time that the propulsion system was electrical, it would take me many years to discover exactly how the “electro-physics” applied.

There we were having our last ice cream supper of the summer of 1953, near dusk, on a lovely end-of-the-summer day. And just as the ice cream had thickened to its final state, and I happened to look at the sky above my sister’s head, there it was, ghostily gyrating in mid-air, no more than 300 feet away, as the beautiful wisps of electrical corona drifted across the metallic shell and into the air, then faded with a twinkle, like stardust from a magic wand which had just passed across the sky.

I observed the colors of the corona at hovering power, which ranged from a bright white, through every color of the rainbow. Generally, the color was a “pink and blue”, with gold highlights and purple undertones. The corona was not too unlike the flame produced by burning zinc, such as when a welding torch was being used to cut galvanized steel pipe. Very beautiful. The corona was emitted from the entire shell at hovering, with a negative corona at the top, as the wind blew gently from the left. Each time the saucer precessed, the wind wafted the corona around on the surface and in the air. The gyrating saucer reminded me of a precessing gyroscope. But the saucer shell itself did not rotate, and the corona did not come out of vents, because there were none.

The air in contact with the surface fluoresced orange-red, in “throbs”, which corresponded to each cycle of the saucer’s precession, on its bottom as it turned into the wind from the left and in shadow, away from the sunlight from the right. I concluded that the ‘throbs’ were probably due to the increased visibility of the corona in the shadow, due to the increased light contrast. This created the illusion that the corona came in ‘throbs’ which corresponded exactly to the precession, which was only the product of the relative light and dark which revealed the corona more in the dark. The corona was still there on the light side of the saucer, only you couldnt see it because the light was too bright.

The precession generally matched that which I had experienced in a friend’s new 1954 Buick, at 120 mph. As the car approached 120, it began to precess, as it sped down the highway, rolling around on the coil springs, which scared us a bit. At that speed, the angle of precession was at its maximum, and the precession frequency was at its minimum, of approximately 2 c.p.s. As we passed through 120, and sped up to 135, the precessional angle decreased, and the precessional frequency increased, until it was a mere “shimmy”, behaving in much the same manner as the saucer. In fact, we were greatly relieved to be traveling at 135 rather than 120, where the precession was so scary.

At very high speed, the two turns which the saucer had executed were precise, square ones, and it did not ‘swing out’ at the corners. This boggled the eyes, since one never sees things do that, except on some mechanical devices, which hold moving parts into position with rigid guides. At hundreds of miles per hour, the effect was eerie. The movement indicated that the saucer experienced none of the effects of momentum and inertia, and therefore operated on a principle which controlled these forces, and created ‘synthetic’, instantaneous momentum by increasing in the new direction of acceleration.

Since the forward edge emitted a ‘hairy’ (i.e., negative) corona during the rapid acceleration, the electrical polarity was indicated. Since the ship made instant square turns which were perpendicular to its vertical axis, the idea of an internal “gyroscopic” drive system was contraindicated. There was no sound, hence no perceptible aerodynamic or “Coanda” effects.

The saucer accelerated much faster than a jet, rocket or propeller-driven craft could have, and had no visible or audible jets or rockets, orifices, pods, intakes, or shapes. It went from a half mile away to infinity in three seconds, appearing to have achieved a 9,000 m.p.h. velocity almost instantly, although it could have been as high as 25,000 mph.

The metallic shell was similar in color to aluminum, only somewhat duller, with concentric striations on its surface, like a ‘spun’ “wok” shape. The striations were approximately 1” wide and rather crude, indicating perhaps a technical difficulty in fabrication, such as that experienced in early, large-scale “spin-forming” of the shells on very large vertical lathes, using new, special tungsten alloy discs. A friend, who had worked in a secret government factory, in Amarillo, Texas, in the ‘50s, described how they fabricated such semi-spheres around 50’ in diameter in that same manner. The shells were then shipped to New Mexico. When one of the work crew asked what they were for, he was told they were “shells for flying saucers”, and everyone had a good laugh.

As the saucer precessed, sunlight played across the striations on the bottom, like it does on the microgrooves of a silvery compact disc, or of an aluminum pan.
I had made the rough estimate of its diameter by visual comparison to the new city water tower behind it and slightly to the right. The approximate height through the center was visually extrapolated from the diameter, together with the proportionate spherical sections used, and the height-to-diameter proportionality.

What I saw in 1953 was a flying machine. The most irrational assumption would have been that it was “extraterrestrial” in origin. The most rational assumption was that it was made by human beings, and that was my first impression. The puzzle parts I had gathered that day, added to what I already had, eventually grew, until I had enough to fit together to substantiate what I believed on my first impression.

 
There were many sightings occurring at that general period of time, especially in that area. That particular saucer was noted by Wink Air Station, about 10 miles away, according to my brother-in-law’s relative, who worked there. Wink Air Station was south of the flight path, which was on a bee-line precisely due west toward the northern edge of Ft. Bliss, Texas, where Wernher von Braun was at that time. Had I not been viewing the saucer while it hovered, and its flight to the horizon, almost directly along its trajectory, it might not have been visible.

As I thought about the performance characteristics, 1 concluded that the field of aerodynamics would soon become obsolete. This led me to abandon my plans to become an aerodynamicist, although I still wanted to be an aeronautical engineer. After all, the saucer was powered by electricity, had canceled inertia, momentum and gravity, made no sonic boom, and apparently ignored aerodynamics. I assumed the aircraft was classified at the time, but that it would only be a matter of no more than five to ten years before it would be declassified, just as other aircraft had been. At the time, I assumed that the general public would be using flying saucers by 1960. How wrong this turned out to be! The longer I waited, the more I became determined to know why.

In 1953, at the time of my sighting, I assumed that the saucer was a “secret government project”. By 1963, I confirmed instead that it was a “Secret Government” project, and began viewing all government statements as being intended to maintain that secrecy. By that time, I also assumed that the Soviets did not have the saucer, as we knew it, even though Habermohl, purportedly one of the top German flying saucer scientists, had gone to the Russians in 1945, and we ended up with Miethe and Schriever.

Neither of these two men appeared to have anything to do with the electrically-powered saucers, and their projects were probably misinformational. eventually considered the assumption that the Soviets also had the saucer even more improbable, hinging” on the question as to whether or not Habermohl had access to the particular secrets involved, and whether he told the Soviets about them if he did. It is more probable that Habermohl, whose ideas were of the lowest order in the “flying saucer hierarchy”, was purposefully ‘sacrificed’ to the Russians to mislead them, and that the Russians incorrectly assumed that he would have told them everything he knew, while he may have given them only misinformation.

The CIA could have put a lot of money in a Swiss bank account for him, while the Soviets continued to treat him like a king. Besides, the kind of saucers under development by Habermohl and Schriever were of the jet and rocket powered “boundary layer” type, not the electric type, and really posed no risk to the “real” “p2” flying saucer, based on Nikola Tesla’s original discoveries, acquired by the Nazis and purportedly being developed by Miethe, under von Braun’s immediate supervision, from his research and development centers at Peenemunde and in Bavaria.

The Nazis were very shrewd, developing several different types of saucers—some aerodynamic, but only one electrical—at different locations using different designers, but they would never have developed the “real” (“KT-p2”) electrically powered saucer outside Germany, such as in Czechoslovakia, where Habermohl and Schriever worked. The Czech projects appeared to be purely disinformational.

It is probable that the only military organization made privy to all these secrets was the SS, as suggested by evidence purportedly from Wiener Neustadt, in the Austrian Bavarian Alps, and at General Otto Skorzeny’s special SS commando headquarters near Munich Skorzeny’s groups’ specialties included rescues. The saucers were purportedly viewed by the SS mythically, as the Vimanas of the SS Aryan philosopher-rulers, according to the neo-Platonist Nazi religion.

There has been a very carefully executed conspiracy to conceal real photos of what I call “real flying saucers”—those of the purely “electro-propulsive” type—from the public. The O.S.I, has seen to it that many fake photos and configurations have been ‘inserted’ into the mainstream, to confuse the public not only as to the real shape of these saucers, but to the means of propulsion. I have encountered very sly O.S.I, attempts to propagate the idea—within more ‘intelligent’ “UFOlogy” circles—that the Felix Schauberger designs (which were non-electro-propulsive, claiming use of an “implosion turbine”-driven ‘duct fan’, which put them definitely in the “low-tec” category, somewhere in the category of a glorified air conditioner vent)—were the kind developed by the Nazis.

From the numerous photos of flying saucers—some real, some fabricated—it is difficult to determine with relative certainty the stages of development which the ‘true saucer’ has undergone. Many of the photos are obviously hoaxes, and all the types proffered by the “German-genesis” bunch are disinformational, or based on data derived from CIA-generated disinformational sources, so I will try to show you what I saw in 1953, and you can draw your own conclusions. The illustration shown below should give you some idea of what the particular type of saucer I saw looked like:

I knew by the way that the saucer could ‘jump around’ in space, that it’s gravity was being controlled. Otherwise, it would have flown to pieces, and any pilot would have been slammed around so badly that he would have been injured and rendered unconscious by the “G” forces. I knew from the electrical corona, and the ‘buttermilk’ texture of its corona trail, that the means for controlling gravity high voltage electricity, and included at least some sort of high frequency electricity. I knew also that the saucer disobeyed conventional rules of gravity, inertia, momentum, aerodynamics, aeronautics, and physics.

A rounded surface will hold charges better than those of a small diameter or sharp points or edges, which will ‘leak’ charges more quickly, and cause corrosion and burns. A corner of 90 degrees or more, will reflect waves being emitted from the top or bottom. This to me explained some of the saucer’s physical shape parameters. The emissions seemed to originate on the top surface on hovering—with positive corona on its bottom—and at the front when accelerating.

In attempting to analyze the cause for the precession, I concluded after many years of deliberation, that it was not caused by a ‘spinning’ mass inside the saucer, such as a gyroscope or motor, or the saucer itself, but was caused by the same unidentified, underlying reason that spinning objects precess, in an electromagnetic interaction between the mass of the saucer and something in the space in which it operated.

The precession of tops and gyroscopes as they spin, compared to the saucer’s precession, since it was not spinning—was caused by some underlying common principle. There was a guidance system Meisterkreiselkompass (“master-gyro- compass”), to work with the Peiltochterkompass (“polar-slave-compass”), a control device from a German inertial guidance system I would later acquire, as the only piece of physical evidence—a part from a flying saucers—in private hands—my hands—thus far. The Meisterkompass would have been on gimbals, and would not have related to the precession.

The electrically powered “Kreisel Teller” (“Gyrating Saucer”) was a secret of such importance that only the elite of the Nazi hierarchy were privy to these secrets. Adam Weishaupt’s Illuminati beginnings were at Ingolstadt. The Illuminati appeared to be alive and well even before Weishaupt, among the Prussian aristocracy into which Wernher von Braun was born. I will have more to say about this later.

I MEET THE K.G.B. AND CAPTAIN MANTELL’S WINGMATE IN THE U.S. AIR FORCE

In late 1955 the Korean War came to an end. In June, 1956, at age seventeen, at the end of my junior year, I decided to drop out of high school and get my “military obligation” out of the way—preferably before the Military Industrial Complex could start another war. I didn’t want to live through my twenties with that uncertainty continually hanging over my head, with the possibility that I might have to interrupt whatever I might be doing at that time.

Somehow, I was offered a presidential appointment to the Air Force Academy, by President Eisenhower. Unfortunately, he wasn’t aware that I was a high school drop-out, while the Air Force failed to inform me that the obstacle could have been surmounted by a G.E.D. test. Meanwhile, I also wanted to be in the Air Force Band, but there were no new assignments. I was offered the position of first bugler for the National Drum and Bugle Corps, in Washington, D.C., but at the time, my disappointment over not being in the Air Force Band was so great, I failed to investigate the bugle corps offer and what a great opportunity it represented, and turned it down.

This was while I was in basic training, when I was in the Lackland A.F.B. Drum and Bugle Corps, where I was first bugler. Second bugler was my best friend at the time, Kris Kristofferson, who was quickly appointed as “barracks chief, because he had two years of RO.T.C. at Pomona College. My other good friend was Eddie Heywood, of Boston, Mass. Kris’ father was Army brass, and Eddie’s older brother, Tom, was a Navy commander. Eddie’s lather was an M.I.T. chemistry professor. I had been a Navy brat during WW II, so we all sort of fell in together and got along well. Kris and I had both gone out with the same girl, named Marilyn Wood, of Donna, Texas, who was the National F.F.A. “Sweetheart” around 1956. Those farmers couldn’t have picked a better girl, even though she liked musicians.

Kris and 1 reciprocated for base reville and taps. We had a crack marching and performance group, and had some excellent Caribbean drummers, as well as a bagpiping member of the Black Watch of Scotland, on loan to us from the RC.A.F.

Kris was awaiting an application to Annapolis, and had another application in for flight school just in case. After discovering that I wouldn’t be able to accept the A.F. Academy appointment, and that no band positions were open, I decided that jet mechanics would be a good job, and would prepare me for my planned career in aeronautical design and engineering. I already knew that I was a mechanical whiz-kid, and didn’t anticipate any problems on my tests. Besides, good jet mechanics were in short supply in the Air Force at the time. Eddie wanted to be a tow-reel operator, because of the extra hazardous duty pay, then just wanted to go back to being a civilian again.

When we finally got to our testing phase, I came away feeling good about my tests, even though I was rather exhausted at the time I took them. Later, we were given our files by the testing personnel, and ordered to deliver them to the counseling and classification section. There, an airman first class told us we were not to look at our test scores until the following week, when we were scheduled to meet with the counselors for career counseling and job classification and training
purposes. I considered the order too suspicious to obey, so the minute the airman first’s head was turned, I disobeyed, opened my file, and recorded my stanine scores on my pith helmet.

Mechanics (95) was my highest, with administration (45) my lowest score, with the rest of my scores graduated evenly in between. My A.F.Q.T. (Armed Forces Qualification Test), taken in Dallas when I enlisted, was 97, placed me in the top 1 %.

The following week, when our files were returned to us, my scores had been reversed, making me look like a potential administrative whiz. There were, I noticed, five classification men working closely together in a suspicious way, and I already had reason for my suspicions, because they had reversed my scores. I didn’t tell the counselor I knew my test scores had been reversed, and discovered several other similar obvious discrepancies with my comrades.

The personnel man refused to consider assigning me to jet mechanics, because of my “low mechanical aptitude”, and insisted on placing me in Ground Control and Approach, an air traffic and control job which required a high administrative aptitude, and involved a highly responsible and critical job landing aircraft under hazardous conditions. In other words, he had not only misclassified me, but had placed me in a critical field in which a single administrative error, such as assigning two aircraft the same altitude, etc., could cost millions of dollars and several lives. I already knew that the changes in my scores were made after the records had been turned over to the classification personnel, who therefore were the responsible parties in all likelihood.

On return to our barracks, I made a rapid survey of others to see how they had fared, bearing in mind that our records had been sabotaged. There were several men scheduled for counterinteUigence, some to be sent to Harvard, Yale, Dartmouth, and other schools with good Slavic language programs. I assumed that many of these assignments were misclassifications, based on sabotaged scores that made the airmen involved appear to have a higher aptitude for languages than they actually had. As I later discovered, while my scores were merely reversed, those of some others’ were juxtaposed in different order, or graded upward or downward.

Among the airmen being sent to counterintelligence was a young Bulgarian who was a trustworthy friend, who had been recruited just for that purpose by U.S. Intelligence. He was a fine person, whose family had been slaughtered by the Communists. The classifications personnel had probably taken a wide berth with him, but had probably blown his cover. Another guy, who claimed to be from Florida—which I did not believe, and neither did the Bulgarian—was also classified into counterintelligence. He had the same rosy cheeks and Slavic mouth as my boyhood friend, Rudolf, who was a first generation Czech-American.

I consulted with the Bulgarian, and then with Eddie, and finally with Kris, who was knowledgeable about military affairs and procedures. Kris recommended that I report my findings to the adjutant. By that time, the personnel saboteurs had continued to do their damage, and had even managed to cut a set of travel orders sending me to Air Police School in Compton, California, even though I was assigned to G.C.A. school at Keesler A.F.B., Mississippi, near Biloxi.

I told the adjutant that I had found what I believed to be a 5-man K.G.B. cell operating in the Air Force Career Counseling Center at Lackland, and that they had probably already routed a Czech mole into counterintelligence. The adjutant straightened out my travel orders, and said he would have the matter looked into.
Months later, Naval Commander Thomas W. Heywood—Eddie’s older brother—on behalf of O.N.I., came to Keesler to spend four days over Thanksgiving, 1956, with Eddie and I.

He said his reason for coming involved the K.G.B. cell, informing me for the first time that the F.B.I., acting on my information, had uncovered them Tom said he had reason to believe that the K.G.B. was responsible for certain problems I was having, and that he would see what he could do to get me out of trouble. He said that Eisenhower had transferred the bunch to the Army where they could be more closely watched. The entire incident was classified “Confidential”, and Tom was breaking the rules by even discussing the matter with me. I received the same confirmation from the squadron adjutant and commander, and was also clandestinely visited by Air Force Intelligence and D.I.A. people, who were trying to help me, while the Air Force officially refused to do anything.

About that time, Arthur C. Clarke, head of the British Interplanetary Society, and a big friend to Wernher von Braun, came to Keesler to give a lecture on “Unidentified Aerial Phenomena”, which I attended. Clarke concluded that flying saucers did not exist as such, and that all such sightings could be explained as natural phenomena. After his address, I filed through a line to speak to him. I shook his hand and told him,

“Dr. Clarke, I enjoyed your speech, but both you and I know that you are a goddamned liar, and that flying saucers are man-made flying machines powered by electricity.”

Clarke chuckled and shook my hand. Two days later, I was reclassified into intelligence, as a clerk- typist, of all things (there was the uncorrected high score in administration speaking again, which the Air Force refused to correct). Both Eddie and I went to 8th A.F., S.A.C., Headquarters, 26th Strategic Reconnaissance Wing, Lockbourne, A.F.B., Ohio, near Columbus. I was then processed and cleared for Top Secret.

It seemed an odd coincidence that the 8th Air Force intelligence group to which I was attached was the same one which had encountered the first allied air assaults of the German flying saucers, and was also somewhat involved in Operation Paperclip.

While at Lockbourne, in late 1957, 1 met a lieutenant colonel named A. W. Clements who was on T.D.Y. there, who had been one of the lieutenants who were Captain Mantell’s wingmates, at the time of the Jan. 7, 1948 incident near Mayville, Kentucky, involving a flight out of Godman A.F.B. Flight Commander Thomas Mantell, Jr., led his P-51s in pursuit of a flying saucer. His plane was completely destroyed and Mantell with it. The later account by J. Allen Hynek, in his “Operation Blue Book” report, was almost completely different from the one given to me by Lt. Col. Clements. The situation gave me cause to wonder that, should others have followed up on Hynek’s footsteps on all the other reports he supposedly considered, that almost just so many other errors might not emerge, showing a consistent pattern of lies.

The way I came to meet Clements, a tall man with dark wavy hair, was because of a discussion—actually more of an argument—which I was having with a couple of intelligence officers, one a major and the other a captaia I was making my argument on flying saucers, and they were calling me crazy, saying flying saucers were either ‘aerial phenomena’ or non-existent. The colonel came down the stairs, introduced himself, and said he was on T.D.Y. at Lockbourne for a couple of weeks, (from either Kentucky or Wright-Patterson, I don’t recall for certain).

He said he couldn’t help but overhear our argument, and said he was taking my side. He told us he had been Captain Mantell’s wingmate in the 1948 disaster, and gave a blow-by-blow account of the incident, which significantly differed with the account written by Hynek when they spotted the saucer, and immediately commenced pursuit under standing orders, they contacted the control tower at Godman. Mantell led the way, and was close to the saucer. The control tower patched them through to the Pentagon, which ordered them to immediately cease pursuit.

Clements said that he was unable to make radio contact with Mantell, because of the strong electric field near the saucer, so Mantell continued the pursuit, within the colonel’s view. Mantell’s plane flew into tiny pieces and Mantell with it. There was no evidence or sighting of any weapons use. The two officers who were arguing with me had to eat crow, for there was a superior officer having direct personal knowledge of flying saucers, in a famous incident, to corroborate my argument. 1 thanked Clements for his honesty. The two other officers didn’t call him crazy.

My theory is that Mantell’s plane, at 500 mph., entered the saucer’s electric field, which gravitationally neutralized the front of the plane. As soon as his plane lost its charge, the front and rear of the plane shredded together and apart in every direction, due to the sudden effects of momentum and inertia. The Pentagon’s order to cease and desist was heard by Clements, but not by Mantell, and must have been intended to avoid such an incident, based on prior knowledge by Pentagon personnel as to what could happen.

Otherwise, there is no case in which the Pentagon has ever ordered the U.S.A.F. to cease pursuit of any “unidentified” aircraft, while flying over the continental U.S.A. The parts of Hynek’s report which were false, due to critical omissions and misrepresentations—since Clements told his story to me the same as he told Hynek—were related to the facts that they clearly pursued a flying saucer, that Clements was in view of Mantell’s plane at the time of the explosion, that radio contact had been obviously broken with Mantell due to the electric field of the saucer, and that the Pentagon had caEed off the pursuit immediately on notification, prior to the incident. This incident has been rehashed over and over, and Clements was very clear on the fact that it was a flying saucer, and not a “weather balloon” as the government later tried to fabricate.

On the night of Nov. 2,1957, while I was on leave from the Air Force, visiting at my parent’s home in Odessa, Texas, my father was returning from a marketing trip, en route to Odessa. Just after passing through LeveEand, Texas after dark, his 1957 ford staEed and aE Eghts went out, and he had to coast to a stop in the dark, on the highway shoulder. He rolled down his window and felt a rush of air, while over his car, a flying saucer hovering only a few feet above. He sat there for around fifteen minutes before the saucer finally departed In essence, he had been “arrested” during that time.

Afterwards, he was able to restart his engine, but his lights were gone, so he returned cautiously in the dark to a Levelland motel, where he spent the remainder of the night. The following morning, at first light, he drove on to Odessa, where he ate a quick breakfast and went immediately to SeweE Ford to have his lights repaired, saying nothing about the flying saucer. After he left, I turned on the T.V. for the morning news, which included the well-known report about the Levelland saucers, including an interview with the sheriff of Hockley County. I immediately went to Sewell Ford to talk to my father.

The Sewell Ford repair shop had just opened, and the mechanic was just beginning to check out the lights, as my father stood close by. I asked Dad about the flying saucer, and he asked how I knew about it. He was unaware that there were news reports concerning other sightings and incidents around Levelland the previous night. He said he had said nothing about it because he didn’t want to be called “crazy”.

The saucer was “egg-shaped”, about 200 feet long, and glowed in the dark. The mechanic said he’d never seen a car with every single light bulb blown out, without there being a blown fuse or any other evidence of a short or other electrical malfunction. I suggested that the tungsten filaments were damaged because the strong electric field around the saucer had caused the filaments to burn out or break, as the weakest links in the circuits, already weakened by their white-hot temperatures, when the saucer hovered over the car. The magnetic field in the car, induced by the strong electric field of the saucer, would cause the electrons in the light filament and circuitry to spin like crazy.

I left the Air Force in 1958, because the classification errors made by the K.G.B. in 1956 had led to an impasse, in which I eventually could not be upgraded in the field in which I was working—in Special Services P.C.U. (Physical Conditioning and Judo Unit)—until I had first been upgraded in my primary A.F.S.C., which was as an illustrator in Intelligence.

The Air Force had refused to correct my test scores so that I could be classified into a field consistent with my real aptitudes. Meanwhile, Intelligence decided they wanted me back, after I had trained in the P.C.U. Using their ‘secret’ influence, Intelligence got the classification officer who was to officially assign the P.C.U. classification number to me after training in that field, so I could be upgraded, assign me a primary A.F.S.C. as an illustrator in Intelligence, with a secondary A.F.S.C. in the P.C.U., so that I could not be upgraded at all, until I had gone back to Intelligence for six months so I could first be upgraded there.

This created a “catch 22”, however, because I had already been in the A.F. for two years and had not been upgraded, so I demanded a discharge under an obscure 8th A.F. Letter, a copy of which was in my possession. The ironic fact was that, not only was I already trained as an illustrator, but there was no one on the base to train me anyway. I had attended night classes at the Columbus College of Art and Design for a year.

And now for the incident on the three Russian bombers: When I worked in Intelligence as a clerk-typist, I had ‘spontaneously’ devised a new briefing system during a “Red Alert”, called during a snowstorm. I was the only one in my group to show up, and had to brief and debrief the S.A.C. crews before and after takeoff. That alert concerned three Russian bombers which crossed the Arctic Circle and eventually landed in Minnesota under fighter escort, picked up over Canadian air space.

That was the “Bison, the Bear, and the Muskrat” incident I referred to earlier, being the three latest Russian bombers, flown by three defecting Russian pilots and landed in Minnesota. As far as we knew, it was an attack. The briefing system I devised involved color-coding, in which the map pouches I provided to the pilots identified their primary, secondary, and alternate targets by color code. That system was adopted by S.A.C., as it was very handy under pressure, and the pilots liked it, even though it was a breach of security for me to devise and distribute the system without authority. What else was I to do, since the responsible intelligence men were still at home hiding under their beds?

Only survival officer, Lt. Don Cook and I, did the whole routine with only a skeleton crew. I had picked up what I knew by working in the same room Congress had rejected the plans for the three Russian bombers, so the American designer had sold his plans to the Russians. We had no defense from those planes at that time, since they flew above our missiles.

The last time I ever personally heard from Kris Kristofferson, was a letter I received from him at Keesler in late 1956, in which he said he had been accepted to flight school. I later learned that he had became a Rhodes scholar at Oxford, after finishing at Annapolis, after his other application eventually came through. When he appeared as a musician in the ‘60s, I hardly recognized him, except for his voice and eyes. In 1956, he was rather stocky, wore a burr haircut, and even had those little rolls of fat on the back of his neck I was greatly disappointed in 1996 to learn of his connections to Col. Michael Aquino and the CIA’s MK ULTRA program, in which he was a Vatican-based Project Monarch slave-runner.1 Working with the Jesuits, eh Kris?

Eddie’s older brother, Tom, eventually became the Chief of Naval Operations. It didn’t surprise me, because he was always well aware of what was going on, while others were still in the dark, and had the guts to “violate” bad orders like a good American should Ironically, the Air Force Records Center in St. Louis, Mo., was burned out, because they could never correct the damage done to the records by the K.G.B.

To this day, there are still numerous claims and lawsuits resulting ultimately from the sabotage, and most people don’t even know it ever occurred. If I had not stumbled across the KGB. cell, there is no telling how long they might have lasted, right under the noses of our ignorant government bureaucrats, and the fact remains that they might never have been caught. The distinct feeling I got was that I was being punished for turning up this incident, not only by the K.G.B., but by my own government as well, and that the only help I got was from people who were disobeying orders.

I never received an official word of thanks from the Air Force, and got only an unofficial thanks from Tom Heywood, and he was with the Navy!

I MEET THE PRESIDENT’S BROTHER-IN-LAW, AND ARNOLD SCHWARTZENEGGER’S FUTURE FATHER-IN-LAW, IN THE PEACE CORPS

In 1962, 1 applied for the Peace Corps, on a bet with J. Evetts Haley, the western historian. Our bet was that I would apply for duty in Southeast Asia, and be accepted for South America, based on “bureaucratic probability”. My application was accepted for Ecuador, with training in Puerto Rico. I never tried to collect on the bet, since it was more in the nature of a joke.

While in training at Arecibo, and at the Universidad Inter Americano at Barranquitas, Puerto Rico, I had some rather noteworthy experiences. Beginning at Arecibo, I was under close scrutiny for some reason unknown to me at the time. This immediately followed a fiery speech by Fidel Castro of Cuba, in which he accused the Peace Corps of being a front for the CIA. I was followed around by certain administrative people, and even treated rather hostilely. Finally, R. Sargent Shriver, brother-in-law to President John F. Kennedy, came for a visit, and hung out with me over several days. Everyone knew who he was, even though he used a phony name. One volunteer even sculpted a limestone portrait of him. He was checking me out for some unknown reason, and seemed disconcerted that we agreed on so many things. My friend, Dr. A. Henry Sara-Nee, of Midland, Texas, had been a graduating classmate of his at Yale Law School, class of ‘47.

It was near this time that an old Puerto Rican man, who smuggled back and fourth to Cuba in his row boat, most urgently approached me at a rural cantina, to give me information. The story that he related to me indicated that he had observed the Russians building what I knew from his description were nuclear missile silos, equipped with I.C.B.M.S.

1Cathy O’Brien with Mark Phillips, Trance Formation of America, Reality Marketing, Inc., Las Vegas, NV (1995)

This was the first information picked up in the “Cuban Missile Crisis”, and I passed the information along, after which it was verified by intelligence people. The missiles were actually there, contrary to later false reports (supplied by the CIA) that only fake ‘mock-up’ missiles were in Cuba. They were apparently setting Kennedy up, and I knew it, the American public be damned.

It was also near this time mat I was harassed by Peace Corps bureaucrats, because a friend and I had Puerto Rican girl friends. The friend was a Black guy named Bill, who had won the Medal of Honor in the Korean War, as a tank commander. The Peace Corps officials particularly wanted me to stop seeing my girlfriend, a school teacher named Maria, because her brother was the secretary to the Bishop of Ponce, who had called Munoz Marin a communist Maria had participated in freedom rides in the southern U.S., and I thought it odd that Peace Corps officials should be guilty of such bigotry and weirdness. Didn’t these guys ever see West Side Story? They were acting like “Officer Krupke”.

I was finally ‘selected out’ of the Peace Corps, without any reason being given. It would not be until four years later that I would learn why.

In protest to the Peace Corps having ‘separating me out’, a group Barranquitas citizens showed up with placards, in my support. They were Puerto Ricans I’d become acquainted with, including my girlfriend, her chaperone, and several others. I thanked them for their sympathy, and said my goodbyes to them, after which we were taken to the San Juan airport, thence flown back to the U.S. Though the group had little money, they later very sweetly took up a donation and sent a small gift of money and a nice card, after I reached home.

As I was preparing to depart the training facility at the Universadad Inter Americano at Barranquitas, I was offered some damaging information on Peace Corps operations, from several people whom I had already identified as CIA agents. The information ranged from the fact that our “dance teacher” was paid $120.00 per day, to the fact that many of the male officials abused their positions by demanding ‘bed time’ with some of the female recruits.

What I also thought was very odd, was the fact that nearly all the Peace Corps officials and other trainees had almost nothing to do with the Puertoriquenos, and were discouraged from doing so. At the forefront of this attitude, were some people from the Union Theological Seminary. When I reached home, I was surprised to have some media people very anxious to ‘expose’ the Peace Corps operations. I attributed this to CIA orchestration as well.

Thanks to Walter Bowart, I read in 1994 that, according to The Report from Iron Mountain (purportedly an accidentally leaked paper of the Secret Government) that war is considered a desirable component of modern society to reduce population, and to control “..dangerous social dissidence and destructive anti-social tendencies”. The military is considered a pool for “misfits...a state-supported haven for the unemployable”.

They conceived of the Peace Corps as a model for an alternative replacement for the non-military functions of war, to sociologically control “misfits” ...as a “modern sophisticated form of slavery”, motivated by,

a) “intensified environmental pollution”

b) “new religious or other mythologies”

c) “socially oriented blood games”

d) “combination forms”

In respect to my having been “selected out” of the Peace Corps (which in view of the above report, was a positive sign), the following copies of letters and documents are included for your reflection:

Please note the evasive language of E. Lowell Kelly’s second paragraph (“...I see no reason to discuss specific reasons for your separation..”) in response to my letter attempting to find out why I was removed. Kelly mentioned “Dr. Boulger”, whom he asserted had ‘evidently’ told me “quite specifically” why. To the contrary, Boulger never told me why, even though very nervous, and actually broke down in tears when I asked him for a reason. The only thing I could get out of him was a vague reference to “...something to do with my military record”. Since everything about my “”military record” had been fully disclosed at the time of my recruitment, the Peace Corps had been fully informed, and there was scarcely any basis for that.

I knew that Fidel Castro had delivered fiery damnations of the Peace Corps in his radio broadcasts, which we had listened to, alleging that it was a “front for the CIA”, but never imagined that I was being set up as a scapegoat. I also knew that two of my fellow recruits— John Bolin and Patricia Cohn—had fraternized with two of Castro’s spies, when they had approached the training facility and entered it, just prior to those broadcasts. I also knew that Bolin and Cohn were CIA agents, along with John Barrett and a man named Salazar. It wasn’t until four years later that I would realize what Bolin and Cohn had told Castro’s agents, that I was a CIA agent.

In retrospect, I knew one of the men associated with the Peace Corp was a Cuban associated with the CIA forces which had attempted to overthrow Castro. He had brutally raped a friend of mine, a girl from Kentucky. Everyone knew about it, yet no one said anything about it or attempted to rectify it. She had black eyes and bruises all over her face, was dejected and ashamed, yet nothing was done to the fascist CIA Cuban pig.

In distinction to this, the following letter is from a woman who, along with her friend “Libby”, were kicked out of the Peace Corps for being “lesbians”:

Again, I couldn’t understand why the Peace Corps was kicking out Inge and Libby, since it should have been obvious to any idiot who had interviewed or investigated them in the first place, that they were lesbians. With some women, you just know, and Inge was one of those women.
 

I MEET THE CIA, ITS FUTURE DIRECTOR, AND THE FUTURE PRESIDENT OF THE U.S.A., WHILE IN THE UNIVERSITY

I picked up bits and pieces of the flying saucer puzzle during my college years, particularly when I took a freshman course in physics, at Sam Houston State University, in Huntsville, Texas, in 1963-64. At that time, I began to see the relationship between gravity and charge-to-mass ratio in individual atoms.

Later, while I attended a year of law school at U.T.-Austin, in 1965-66, M.B. Wood, the CIA Southwestern Regional Director, gave a recruitment speech to our law class1, and said he’d be glad to answer any questions he could, if we would contact his secretary to set up an appointment, which I did. I was surprised to learn that the “sweetheart” of our law class, ‘Sandy’ (Kay) Bailey, was also M.B. Wood’s secretary. (I was not surprised 26 years later, when in 1992 Kay Bailey-Hutchinson became a U.S. senator from Texas.)

The meeting was held in a room of the Business and Economics Building, on the U.T. campus. At my meeting with Wood, I asked him point blank if he knew why I was kicked out of the Peace Corps. He reached across the desk for a dossier on me, opened it, and showed me an “executive edict” signed by John F. Kennedy, staring that “...no person who has worked for the CIA may be in the Peace Corps.”

I asked Wood how that applied to me, and he said “Because President Kennedy thought you worked for us.”. I then asked Wood if the CIA had permitted Kennedy to believe that, even though it was not true, and he said “Yes”. Then he proudly showed me another executive edict dated around two weeks later, stating that “...no person who has worked for the Peace Corps may be employed by the CIA.” Then Wood said, “However, we’d be glad to consider your application five years from your date of departure from the Peace Corps.” As I was leaving, Wood said “Stay dry!” (old intelligence jargon, meaning “stay sensitive!”).

The facts were as follows: There I was having a beer at a rural Puerto Rican cantina, listening to accordion music blaring from a Wurlitzer juke box, and just happened to pick up America’s first intelligence on the Cuban Missile Crisis. Though I was not a CIA agent, this seemed of considerable importance to me, and I didn’t think I should remain silent about it. After all, my family didn’t even have a bomb shelter. Besides, I was in Peace Corps training, and the missile silos sounded fairly unpeaceful, so I passed the information along for the benefit of the American People and the world, not the CIA. Castro’s radio broadcasts reminded me of Hitler’s.

This incident proved to me what I had suspected all along, which was that the CIA was not playing it straight with the president, who was their commander-in-chief. If the president could not depend on the veracity of the CIA, as his supposed means of intelligence gathering upon which to base his decisions, then the American people could not rely on those decisions as reflecting the rational options available to the president, as betrayed by the CIA. It stands to John F. Kennedy’s credit that he lacked confidence in the CIA, so much that, even after they had scapegoated me, to avoid discovery of the fact that they remained well represented in the Peace Corps in violation of the President’s order, that Kennedy sent his own trusted brother-in-law, Shriver, to see if they were lying to him, which they certainty were.

If they had just told me why they were kicking me out, I could have fingered Bolin, Cohn, Barrett, and Salazar—who were not separated out—in a few minutes. They had told Castro’s spies that I was a CIA agent, and then gave me the damaging material on the Peace Corps as I was departing, obviously for use in my later interviews with the media, which they had also arranged. It seemed odd to me that the president of the United States did not know who his own CIA agents were, yet I, a civilian, whom he was falsely led to believe was with the CIA, did know who they were.

If the CIA answered to a ‘higher authority’, then this was truly bigger than a “betrayal” of or by Kennedy, in his dealings with the Military Industrial Complex. There was John F. Kennedy—a Cambridge-educated Illuminatus (A.K.A. “Fabian Socialist”)—betraying the Council on Foreign Relations’ goal of British-American world imperialism, as envisioned by Cecil Rhodes, the British billionaire who, as an Illuminist, had endowed Oxford’s Rhodes Scholarships program, and was a ‘world-control’ adherent to the ancient teachings of Hermes Trismegistus (“Thrice Greatest”), as elucidated by his favorite Oxford professor, John Ruskin. These teachings say that only an illuminated elite—which maintains a dualistic (“Hermaphroditic”) difference between what is said and what is done—should rule the world.

In 1968, while a graduate student in art at U.T., I attended a lecture on gravity in the physics department. I was disappointed to find that the physicists were still ignorant of the scientific basis for gravity. I was also amazed to find a grant application on the bulletin board, from the U.S. Department of Energy, for prospective PhD. candidates in physics. All the candidates had to do to pick up a $10,000 grant, was to base their theses on the given government premise that “U.F.O.s are free-floating plasmas.” This was apparently the manner by which the Trilateral Commission bought phony “documentation” to support their BIGGEST LIE, to be later used by UFOlogists. It also constituted a prima facie case of scholastic dishonesty.

I TURN DOWN AN OFFER FROM THE CIA TO BE “ONCE AND FUTURE KING”

I left the university and my first wife and I divorced in 1970, then I moved to New Mexico. By 1967, 1 had already done sketches of flying saucer control systems, having twelve directional grids, corresponding to twelve 30-degree incremental divisions of the compass, such as I had surmised from my 1950s observations of flying saucers navigating in the night sky above our back yard in West Texas. This observation would later be corroborated, at least for the early vintage saucers.
 

In 1973, at the Santa Fe Ski Basin, I ran across some friends whom I had known in my U.T. days, who had belonged to O.S.O. (“Organization of Students of Objectivism”), a philosophy club I belonged to which studied the literature and philosophy of Ayn Rand The friends introduced me to a woman who accompanied them. I dated the woman on occasion over two years. In 1975, she attended the School of Law at the University of Houston, and lived with her grandmother, in Pasadena, Texas.

While visiting her, after my return from a trip to Europe—on which I had embarked on the Kraljevica, a vessel of the Jugolinea—I was rather astounded when she and another vivacious young woman suddenly announced that they were CIA agents, and said, “...we are authorized to offer you M.B. Wood’s job, with the provision that you return to your wife.” You could have knocked me over with a feather! Wood was the CIA executive with whom I had met in Austin, concerning the Peace Corps.

I turned the offer down. It was odd to discover that a lady you had been seeing for ova two years, was all the while checking you out for the CIA. It was also ironic that I was offered the job of the same CIA employee with whom I had met concerning J.F.K. and the Peace Corps. To make it stranger, the offer came from George Bush, the new head of the CIA, whom I had met and talked to while visiting my first cousin, Patsy, who was his private secretary for five years, at his Tidewater Oil Company office in the Nelly Esperson Building, in Houston.

It took me a while to sort out all of the pieces of that little incident. The CIA “agentrix” was the first cousin of my first wife’s first cousin’s wife. That cousin’s wife was the sister to a (now retired) Texas Ranger, who presently lives in Santa Fe. That Ranger had taken a shot at my second wife along highway 285, in October, 1983, to scare the hell out of her. George Bush had just taken over the CIA. The girlfriend had commercial dealings with Bush, as one of the owners of a major oil company. And why did the CIA try to bribe and coerce me back to my first wife? George Bush and my first wife’s father were butt-bumping buddies, in Bush’s 1950s Odessa, Texas days. Beginning with George Bush’s command at the CIA, my problems began in Lamy, stirred up by the CIA, in order to “motivate me” to accept their offer. The problem continued for over seventeen years.

I later determined that the ‘friends’ from the O.S.O. were CIA trainees, who had been sent to our club to spy on us, and to “learn how to think”. The CIA had secretly used us as a surrogate think-tank. The “Oil Queen” of the CIA had given me a copy of T. H. White’s Once and Future King as a gift a few months before, and I never knew what was intended, until I recalled the part about where King Arthur just went about his business, despite the embarrassing gossip about court caused by the carryings on of Lance and Guinevere. Well, I considered myself a notch above ol’ Art, and the CIA.

In reminiscing about the Oil Queen, I am forever amazed at the confirmations I got from her, concerning the inventions of Nikola Tesla and his flying saucer. Heir to a large oil fortune with very high connections, she was in the know about energy matters of concern to oil interests; Tesla’s invention of the flying saucer, free energy discoveries, and Tom Ogle’s 100 miles-per-gallon carburetor, which I will tell you more about in this book.

IN 1979 I MEET A VIEJO FROM POJOAQUE AT THE FLEA MARKET, AND BUY A WWII GERMAN FLYING SAUCER NAVIGATIONAL SYSTEM FROM AN ALBUQUERQUE SALVAGE DEALER

In 1975 I began researching alternative methods of energy generation, based on the premise that inexhaustible energy can be obtained from the environment, because “...energy cannot be created nor destroyed, but only changed in form...”. Since I conceive of the universe as a never-ending perpetual motion (energy) process—as the rule and not the exception—my goal was to discover ways to trick nature into producing “free energy”. This involved gathering, focusing, and channeling some part of the infinite perpetual motion of the universe, through whatever work I wanted to do with it. I finally evolved what I call my “Triax System”.

In 1976 or thereabouts, I had resumed my childhood research in nuclear sciences, electricity, and magnetism, which I had begun in 1947, when I was nine years old. By 1978,1 had accumulated a lot of material and knowledge on the work of Nikola Tesla. As a child, my neighbor’s father, Elmer Schlosser, a self-taught electronics repair man, told me about Tesla, his boyhood inspiration, while growing up in the Cimmarron Territory.

He told me the saucer was Tesla’s invention. He gave me a lot of materials to use in my experiments with electricity and magnetism. I took the soft iron bars from the windows of the barracks from the German P.O.W. camp in Roswell, from which we’d built our new house in 1947, and used the bars in my experiments with magnetism and electricity. Some of the things I discovered seemed to defy the accepted laws of electromagnetism.

I had always presumed that Tesla had indeed invented the flying saucer, because of the way the government and Trilateralists had practically drummed his greatness from history.

By 1979,1 had several operational Tesla coils, and was hunting materials in the salvage heaps of Los Alamos, Albuquerque, and Santa Fe, to use in a multitude of experiments. It was during this time that many of my new inventions and re-discoveries came about.

While browsing through a Santa Fe flea market in 1979,1 met a viejo from Pojoaque, who was trying to sell an old wooden box which he had made in 1937, to carry tools behind the cab of his Model A Ford pickup. On the lid of the box, he had carved, in New Mexico “folk” style, a map showing Los Alamos, Pojoaque (with a “zia” sign around it), and the unpaved road leading to the interstate, showing “LA.” (Los Angeles) one way, and “N.Y.” (New York City) the other. The date (“1937”) was shown, as well as the name of the project (“p2”) in which he was employed at Los Alamos.

The symbol for the project (a triangle with a dot in its center) was also shown. It was a scientific project headed by Wernher Von Braun. The old man said that after the project was “shut down and moved away”, at the end of 1937, that he was never rehired when the “new project” (the Manhattan Project) was begun in 1942.

I knew at the time that the triangle with a dot in its center was the “all-seeing-eye” of Bel, Ra, or “God”, that it was a Masonic symbol, and that it appeared on the dollar bill. I was inclined to buy the box at the time, not only as a curiosity, but also because of some haunting reason of which I was not then fully cognizant, but I didn’t buy it because I was so short on cash at the time. I also thought “1937” was a little early for anything scientific at Los Alamos. The Manhattan Project originated in late 1941/early 1942. Our government was an “ally” with Germany, until the 1939 invasion of Poland (Surprised?).

It would not be until a week later that I would realize my mistake in failing to buy the box, and did not remember the old man’s name. Somewhere in Pojoaque or Santa Fe, there may still be an old, hand-carved wooden box, which looks like this:

The following week, I regretted having failed to buy the box, when I realized what the carving meant. This was revealed when I went to a surplus dealer’s yard in Albuquerque, shortly after a fresh pile of unusual things had been sold to him by an employee of Sandia Base. On top of the pile was a navigational device of the type I knew early saucers would have used.

The entire pile was not the usual stuff I was able to buy, so I asked Mark King, the owner’s son, who was also a friend of mine, what he would have to have for the device. He answered, “Oh...about seven-fifty”. My heart sank. Seven hundred and fifty dollars was way out of my budget. I asked, “Seven hundred and fifty dollars?” Mark answered, “No...cents, for the whole pile”. I wasted no time picking the stuff up and paying Mark, with a big thanks, a handshake, a smile, and $7.50.

When I returned home, I began to examine the device, made in 1943 by Lizt, in Germany, more closely. The label on the device was as follows:

Peiltochterkompass
KT-p2
GeratNr. 127-178 A-l
Anforderz. FI 23374
WerkNr. 10143
Hersteller: gvy

There was the “p2” again. “KT-p2” was the codename for “Kreisel Teller” (German, for “Gyrating Saucer”) and “p2” was, according to Tesla’s drawings, either two plates, potentials, or primaries.

The 1943 device had a 6-volt motor to drive a geared ring marked in 30-degree partitions, around an inner electromagnetically coupled disk. A selection knob in the center of the face was used to manually turn a pointer to the desired flight-heading. There were fourteen contact points on the bottom, two of which supplied D.C. current to the motor.

The motor would rotate the outer geared compass ring until it showed the correct flight heading, based on information relayed from “master” gyrocompass, oriented to earth’s north pole, at which point the motor was automatically switched off The term “Tochter” (German, for “daughter”), literally meant “slave” in this respect, so the term “Peiltochterkompass” meant “Polar-Slave-Compass”. The device was one-half of an inertial or “celestial” navigation system. This manually operated device presupposed the “master” (gyro) compass....and electromagnetic propulsion, in 1943.

I had observed a flying saucer up close in 1953, and my father had been ‘held’ for at least a quarter of an hour, by another large “mother ship”—“egg-shaped” and about 200 feet long—as he left Levelland, Texas, on the night of November 2, 1957, which hovered only a few feet above his car, killing his engine and burning out his lights. Both the 1953 and 1957 ships emitted electrical coronal discharges rendering an ordinary compass useless.

That and the fantastic speeds necessitated an inertial navigation system The 1953 ship was obviously disoriented, its pilots surprised to find that they were hovering over our town, so their relatively primitive Peiltochterkompass was used to ‘dial in’ the proper heading, to speed back to their base along the New Mexico-Texas border, between Ft. Bliss and White Sands Missile Range, where Wernher von Braun had brought the post-war German KT-p2 Projekt.

The Peiltochterkompass had partitions of 30 degrees, identical to the 30-degree incremental turns of flying saucers I’d seen in the night sky, from 1949 to 1953. It was designed to be mounted horizontally, with 360-degree peripheral headings, indicating a round ship, which moved in 12 directions. Photographs of the Peiltochterkompass appear below:

FIG. 1: Top View - fluorescent dial and face calibrations, with 12 30-degree peripheral increments. With master gyrocompass calibrated to true north prior to takeoff directional selections made with dial read on Peiltochterkompass.
FIG. 2: Horizontal rear view -label and receptacle at bottom for control cable attachment with 14 contact points, including power for 6-volt motor and 6 bi-directional polarities, interconnected to the “Meisterkreiselkompass”. Appropriate high-voltage switches automatically activated via opposite pairs of twelve contacts.
FIG. 3: Perspective View.
FIG. 4: Photo of two antiquated wooden high-voltage Tesla tuning coil forms (coils missing), from Los Alamos Scientific Laboratory (“LAS.L”) salvage, ca 1978. Twelve 30-degree increments on notched form primitively secured by old window latch Among stuff cleared out of “old bam” in oldest area of lab. Examination of patina, materials, screws, nuts, bolts, and other hardware, indicated a ca 1900 construction date, apparently reworked in’30s, to retrofit automotive thrust bearings. Handwriting on them comports with Nikola Tesla’s. Probably part of electrical apparati from Tesla’s Colorado Springs experiments, taken south to Los Alamos for use in von Braun’s 1936-38 Illuminati’p2” project Lab personnel were probably unaware of their origin or use by the time they were released for sale in 1978.

I knew that General Patton, on his 1945 saucer-hunt, had been ordered to destroy 200 of the celestial navigation systems which he had found in a salt cave, deep beneath the Peenemunde complex. Tesla had developed and flight-tested such a navigational system in conjunction with the Sperry Gyroscope Company in 1917. The device I saw on the salvage pile met all the criteria for the device I knew had to exist, and it was made in Germany, by Lizt, on October 1,1943.