For more than two weeks, I checked on the Godman Field tragedy. One
fact stood out at the start: The death of Mantell had had a profound
effect on many in the Air Force. A dozen times I was told:
“I thought the saucers were a joke-until Mantell was killed chasing
that thing at Fort Knox.”
Many ranking officers who had laughed at the saucer scare stopped
scoffing. One of these was General Sory Smith, now Deputy Director of
Air Force Public Relations. Later in my investigation, General Smith
told me:
“It was the Mantell case that got me. I knew Tommy Mantell. very
well—also Colonel Hix, the C.O. at Godman. I knew they were both
intelligent men—not the kind to be imagining things.”
For fifteen months, the Air Force kept a tight-lipped silence.
Meantime, rumors began to spread. One report said that Mantell had been
shot, his body riddled with bullets; his P-51, also riddled, had simply
disintegrated. Another rumor reported Mantell as having been killed by
some mysterious force; this same force had also destroyed his fighter.
The Air Force, the rumors said, had covered up the truth by telling
Mantell’s family he had blacked out from lack of oxygen.
Checking the last angle, I found that this was the explanation given to
Mantell’s mother, just after his death, she was told by Standiford
Field officers that he had flown too high in chasing the strange
object.
Shallet, in the _Saturday Evening Post_ articles, described Project
“Saucer’s” reconstruction of the case. Mantell was said to have climbed
up to 25,000 feet, despite his firm decision to end the chase at
20,000, since he carried no oxygen. Around 25,000 feet, Shallett quoted
the Air Force investigators, Mantell must have lost consciousness.
After this, his pilotless plane climbed on up to some 30,000 feet, then
dived. Between 20,000 and 10,000 feet, Shallett suggested, the P-51
began to disintegrate, obviously from excessive speed. The gleaming
object that hypnotized Mantell into this fatal climb was, Shallett
said, either the planet Venus or a Navy cosmic-ray research balloon.
The Air Force Project “Saucer” report of April 27, 1949, released just
after the first Post article, makes these statements:
“Five minutes after Mantell disappeared from his formation, the two
remaining planes returned to Godman. A few minutes later, one resumed
the search, covering territory 100 miles to the south as high as 33,000
feet, but found nothing.
“Subsequent investigation revealed that Mantell had probably blacked
out at 20,000 feet from lack of oxygen and had died of suffocation
before the crash.
“The mysterious object which the flyer chased to his death was first
identified as the Planet Venus. However, further probing showed the
elevation and azimuth readings of Venus and the object at specified
time intervals did not coincide.
“It is still considered ‘Unidentified.’
The Venus explanation, even though now denied, puzzled me. It was plain
that the Air Force had seriously considered offering it as the answer
then abandoned it. Apparently someone had got his signals mixed and let
Shallett use the discarded answer. And for some unknown reason, the Air
Force had found it imperative to deny the Venus story at once.
In these first weeks of checking, I had run onto the Venus explanation
in other cases. Several Air Force officers repeated it so quickly that
it had the sound of a stock alibi. But in the daytime cases this was
almost ridiculous.
I knew of a few instances in World War II when bomber crews and
antiaircraft gunners had loosed a few bursts at Venus. But this was
mostly at night, when the planet was at peak brilliance. And more than
one gunner later admitted firing to relieve long hours of boredom.
Since enemy planes did not carry lights, there was no authentic case,
to my knowledge, where plane or ground gunners actually believed Venus
was an enemy aircraft.
Checking the astronomer’s report, I read over the concluding statement:
“It simply could not have been Venus. They must have been desperate
even to suggest it in the first place.” Months later, in the secret
Project “Saucer” report released December 30, 1949, I found official
confirmation of this astronomer’s opinions. Since it has a peculiar
bearing on the Mantell case, I am quoting it now:
When Venus is at its greatest brilliance, it is possible to see it
during daytime when one knows exactly where to look. But on January 7,
1948, Venus was less than half as bright as its peak brilliance.
However, under exceptionally good atmospheric conditions, and with the
eye shielded from direct rays of the sun, Venus might be seen as an
exceedingly tiny bright point of light. . . . However, the chances of
looking at just the right spot are very few.
It has been unofficially reported that the object was a Navy cosmic-ray
research balloon. If this can be established, it Is to be preferred as
an explanation. However, if one accepts the assumption that reports
from various other localities refer to the same object, any such device
must have been a good many miles high—25 to 50—in order to have been
seen clearly, almost simultaneously, from places 175 miles apart.
If all reports were of a single object, in the knowledge of this
investigator no man-made object could have been large enough and far
enough away for the approximate simultaneous sightings. It is most
unlikely, however, that so many separated persons should at that time
have chanced on Venus in the daylight sky. It seems therefore much more
probable that more than one object was involved.
The sighting might have included two or more balloons (or aircraft) or
they might have included Venus and balloons. For reasons given above,
the latter explanation seems more likely.
Two things stand out in his report:
1. The obvious determination to fit some explanation, no matter how
farfetched, to the Mantell sighting.
2. The impossibility that Venus—a tiny point of light, seen only with
difficulty—was the tremendous metallic object described by Mantell and
seen by Godman Field officers.
With Venus eliminated, I went to work on the balloon theory. Since I
had been a balloon pilot before learning to fly planes, this was fairly
familiar ground.
Shallett’s alternate theory that Mantell had chased a Navy research
balloon was widely repeated by readers unfamiliar with balloon
operation. Few thought to check the speeds, heights, and distances
involved.
Cosmic-ray research balloons are not powered; they are set free to
drift with the wind. This particular Navy type is released at a base
near Minneapolis. The gas bag is filled with only a small per cent of
its helium capacity before the take-off.
In a routine flight, the balloon ascends rapidly to a very high
altitude-as high as 100,000 feet. By this time the gas bag has swelled
to full size, about l00 feet high and 70 feet in diameter. At a set
time, a device releases the case of instruments under the balloon. The
instruments descend by parachute, and the balloon, rising quickly,
explodes from the sudden expansion.
Occasionally a balloon starts leaking, and it then remains relatively
low. At first glance, this might seem the answer to the Kentucky
sightings. If the balloon were low enough, it would loom up as a large
circular object, as seen from directly below. Some witnesses might
estimate its diameter as 250 feet or more, instead of its actual 70
feet. But this failure to recognize a balloon would require incredibly
poor vision on the part of trained observers—state police, Army M.P.’s,
the Godman Field officers, Mantell and his pilots.
Captain Mantell was a wartime pilot, with over three thousand hours in
the air. He was trained to identify a distant enemy plane in a split
second. His vision was perfect, and so was that of his pilots. In broad
daylight they could not fail to recognize a balloon during their
thirty-minute chase.
Colonel Hix and the other Godman officers watched the object with
high-powered glasses for long periods. It is incredible that they would
not identify it as a balloon.
Before its appearance over Godman Field, the leaking balloon would have
drifted, at a low altitude, over several hundred miles. (A leak large
enough to bring it down from high altitude would have caused it to land
and be found.) Drifting at a low altitude, it would have been seen by
several hundred thousand people, at the very least. Many would have
reported it as a balloon. But even if this angle is ignored it still
could not possibly have been a balloon at low altitude. The fast flight
from Madisonville, the abrupt stop and hour-long hovering at Godman
Field, the quick bursts of speed Mantell reported make it impossible.
To fly the go miles from Madisonville to Fort Knox in 30 minutes, a
balloon would require a wind of 180 m.p.h. After traveling at this
hurricane speed, it would then have had to come to a dead stop above
Godman Field. As the P-51’s approached, it would have had to speed tip
again to 180, then to more than 360 to keep ahead of Mantell.
The three fighter pilots chased the mysterious object for half an hour.
(I have several times chased balloons with a plane, overtaking them in
seconds.) In a straight chase, Mantell would have been closing in at
360; the tail wind acting on his fighter would nullify the balloon’s
forward drift.
But even if you accept these improbable factors, there is one final
fact that nullifies the balloon explanation. The strange object had
disappeared when Mantell’s wingman searched the sky, just after the
leader’s death. If it had been a balloon held stationary for an hour at
a high altitude, and glowing brightly enough to be seen through clouds,
it would have remained visible in the same general position. Seen from
33,000 feet, it would have been even brighter, because of the clearer
air.
But the mysterious object had completely vanished in those few minutes.
A search covering a hundred miles failed to reveal a trace.
Whether at a high or low altitude, a balloon could not have escaped the
pilot’s eyes. It would also have continued to be seen at Godman Field
and other points, through occasional breaks in the clouds.
I pointed out these facts to one Air Force officer at the Pentagon.
Next day he phoned me:
“I figured it out. The timing device went off and the balloon exploded.
That’s why the pilot didn’t see it.”
“It’s an odd coincidence,” I said, “that it exploded in those five
minutes after Mantell’s last report.”
“Even so, it’s obviously the answer,” he said.
Checking on this angle, I found:
1. No one in the Kentucky area had reported a descending parachute.
2. No cosmic-ray research instrument case or parachute was found in the
area.
3. No instruments were returned to the Navy from this region. And _all_
balloons and instruments released at that time were _fully accounted
for_.
Even if it had been a balloon, it would not explain the _later_ January
7th reports—the simultaneous sightings mentioned by Professor Hynek in
the Project “Saucer” report. This includes the thing seen at Lockbourne
Air Force Base two hours after Mantell’s death.
Obviously, the saucer seen flying at 500 m.p.h. over Lockbourne Field
could not have been a balloon. Even if there had been several balloons
in this area (and there were not, by official record), they could not
have covered the courses reported. In some cases, they would have been
flying against the wind, at terrific speed.
Then what was the mysterious object? And what killed Mantell?
Both the Air Force and the _Post_ articles speculate that Mantell
carelessly let himself black out.
Since some explanation had to be given, this might seem a good answer.
But Mantell was known for coolheaded judgment. As a wartime pilot, he
was familiar with signs of anoxia (oxygen starvation). That he knew his
tolerance for altitude is proved by his firmly declared intention to
abandon the chase at 20,000 feet, since he had no oxygen equipment.
Mantell had his altimeter to warn him. From experience, he would
recognize the first vague blurring, narrowing of vision, and other
signs of anoxia. Despite this, the “blackout” explanation was accepted
as plausible by many Americans.
While investigating the Mantell case, I talked with several pilots and
aeronautical engineers. Several questioned that a P-51 starting a dive
from 20,000 feet would have disintegrated so thoroughly.
“From thirty thousand feet, yes,” said one engineer. “If the idea was
to explain it away, I’d pick a high altitude to start from. But a
pilotless plane doesn’t necessarily dive, as you know.
“It might slip off and spin, or spiral down, and a few have even landed
themselves. Also, if the plane started down from twenty thousand, the
pilot wouldn’t be too far blacked out. The odds are he’d come to when
he got into thicker air—admitting he did blur out, which is only an Air
Force guess. I don’t see why they’re so positive Mantell died before he
hit the ground—unless they know something we don’t.”
One of the pilot group put it more bluntly.
“It looks like a cover-up to me. I think Mantell did just what he said
he would—close in on the thing. I think he either collided with it, or
more likely they knocked him out of the air. They’d think he was trying
to bring them down, barging in like that.”
Even if you accept the blackout answer, it still does not explain what
Mantell was chasing. it is possible that, excited by the huge,
mysterious object, he recklessly climbed beyond the danger level,
though such an act was completely at odds with his character.
But the _identity_ of the thing remains—officially—a mystery. If it was
some weird experimental craft or a guided missile, then whose was it?
Air Force officers had repeatedly told me they had no such device.
General Carl Touhy Spaatz, former Air Force chief, had publicly
insisted that no such weapon had been developed in his regime.
Secretary Symington and General Hoyt Vandenberg, present Air Force
chief, had been equally emphatic. Of course, official denials could be
expected if it were a top-level secret. But if it were a secret device,
would it be tested so publicly that thousands would see it?
If it were an Air Force device, then I could see only one answer for
the Godman Field incident: The thing was such a closely guarded secret
that even Colonel Hix hadn’t known. That would mean that most or all
Air Force Base C.O.’s were also in ignorance of the secret device.
Could it be a Navy experiment, kept secret from the Air Force?
I did a little checking.
Admiral Calvin Bolster, chief of aeronautics research experimental
craft, was an Annapolis classmate of mine. So was Captain Delmer S.
Fahrney, head of the Navy guided-missile program. Fahrney was at Point
Mugu, missile-testing base in California, and I wasn’t able to see him.
But I knew him as a careful, conscientious officer; I can’t believe he
would let such a device, piloted or not, hover over an Air Force base
with no warning to its C.O.
I saw Admiral Bolster. His denial seemed genuine; unless he’d got to be
a dead-pan poker player since our earlier days, I was sure he was
telling the truth.
The only other alternate was Russia. It was incredible that they would
develop such a device and then expose it to the gaze of U.S. Air Force
officers. It could be photographed, its speed and maneuverability
checked; it might crash, or antiaircraft fire might bring it down, The
secret might be lost in one such test flight.
There was one other explanation: The thing was not intended to be seen;
it had got out of control. In this event; the long hovering period at
Godman Field was caused by the need for repairs inside the flying
saucer, or repairs to remote-control apparatus.
If it were Air Force or Navy, that would explain official concern; even
if completely free of negligence, the service responsible would be
blamed for Mantell’s death. If it were Russian, the Air Force would of
course try to conceal the fact for fear of public hysteria.
But if the device was American, it meant that Project “Saucer” was a
cover-up unit. While pretending to investigate, it would actually hush
up reports, make false explanations, and safeguard the secret in every
possible way. Also, the reported order for Air Force pilots to pursue
the disks would have to be a fake. Instead, there would be a secret
order telling them to avoid strange objects in the sky.
By the time I finished my check-up, I was sure of one thing: This
particular saucer had been real.
I was almost positive of one other point-that the thing had been over
30 miles high during part of its flight. I found that _after_ Mantell’s
death it was reported simultaneously from Madisonville, Elizabethtown,
and Lexington—over a distance of 175 miles. (Professor Hynek’s analysis
later confirmed this.)
How low it had been while hovering over Godman, and during Mantell’s
chase, there was no way to determine. But all the evidence pointed to a
swift ascent after Mantell’s last report.
Had Mantell told Godman Tower more than the Air Force admitted? I went
back to the Pentagon and asked for a full transcript of the flight
leader’s radio messages. I got a quick turn-down. The reports, I was
told, were still classified as secret. Requests for pictures of the
P-51 wreckage, and for a report on the condition of Mantell’s body,
also drew a blank. I had heard that some photographs were taken of the
Godman Field saucer from outside the tower. But the Air Force denied
knowledge of any such pictures.
Puzzling over the riddle, I remembered John Steele, the former
Intelligence captain. If by any chance he was a plant, it would be
interesting to suggest the various answers and watch his reaction. When
I phoned him to suggest luncheon, Steele accepted at once. We met at
the Occidental, on Pennsylvania Avenue. Steele was younger than I had
expected—not over twenty-five. He was a tall man, with a crew haircut
and the build of a football player. Looking at him the first time, I
expected a certain breeziness. instead, he was almost solemn.
“I owe you an apology,” he said in a careful voice after we’d ordered.
“You probably know I’m a syndicate writer?”
I wondered if he’d found out Jack Daly was checking on him.
“When you mentioned the Press Club,” I said, “I gathered you were in
the business.”
“I’m afraid you thought I was fishing for a lead.” Steele looked at me
earnestly. “I’m not working on the story—I’m tied up on other stuff.”
“Forget it,” I told him.
He seemed anxious to reassure me. “I’d been worried for some time about
the saucers. I called you that night on an impulse.”
“Glad you did,” I said. “I need every tip I can get.”
“Did it help you any?”
“Yes, though it still doesn’t fit together. But I can tell you this:
The saucers are real, or at least one of them.”
“Which one?”
“The thing Captain Mantell was chasing near Fort Knox, before he died.”
“Oh, that one.” Steele looked down at the roll he was buttering. “I
thought that case was fully explained. Wasn’t he chasing a balloon?”
“The Air Force says it’s still unidentified.” I told him what I had
learned. “Apparently you’re right—it’s either an American or a Soviet
missile.”
“After what you’ve told me,” said Steele, “I can’t believe it’s ours.
It must be Russian.”
“They’d be pretty stupid to test it over here.”
“You said it was probably out of control.”
“That particular one, maybe. But there have been several hundred seen
over here. If they found their controls were haywire, they wouldn’t
keep testing the things until they’d corrected that.”
The waiter came with the soup, and Steele was silent until he left.
“I still can’t believe it’s our weapon,” he said slowly. “They wouldn’t
have Air Force pilots alerted to chase the things. And I happen to how
they do.”
“There’s something queer about this missile angle,” I said. “That
saucer was seen at the same time by people a hundred and seventy-five
miles apart. To be that high in the sky, and still look more than two
hundred and fifty feet in diameter, it must have been enormous.”
Steele didn’t answer for a moment.
“Obviously, that was an illusion,” he finally answered. “I’d discount
those estimates.”
“Even Mantell’s? And the Godman Field officers’?”
“Not knowing the thing’s height, how could they judge accurately?”
“To be seen at points that far apart, it had to be over thirty miles
high,” I told him. “It would have to be huge to show up at all.”
He shook his head. “I can’t believe those reports are right. It must
have been sighted at different times.”
I let it drop.
“What are you working on now?” Steele asked, after a minute or two.
I said I hadn’t decided. Actually, I planned a trip to the coast, to
interview pilots who had sighted flying disks.
“What would you do if you found it wasn’t a Soviet missile?” said
Steele. He sounded almost too casual.
“If security was involved, I’d keep still. But the Air Force and the
Navy swear they haven’t any such things.”
Steele looked at me thoughtfully.
“You know, _True_ might force something into the open that would be
better left secret.” He smiled ironically. “I realize that sounds
peculiar, since I suggested the Russian angle. But if it isn’t
Russian—though I still think it is—then we have nothing to worry
about.”
I was almost sure now that he was a plant. During the rest of the
luncheon, I tried to draw him out, but Steele was through talking. When
we parted, he gave me a sober warning.
“You and _True_ should consider your moral responsibility, no matter
what you find. Even if it’s not actual security, there may be reasons
to keep still.”
After he left me, I tried to figure it out. If the Air Force was back
of this, they must not think much of my intelligence. Or else they had
been in such a hurry to get a line on _True’s_ investigation that they
had no choice but to use Steele. Of course, it was still possible he
was doing this on his own.
Either way, his purpose was obvious. He hoped to have us swallow the
Soviet-missile answer. If we did, then we would have to keep still,
even though we found absolute proof. Obviously, it would be dangerous
to print _that_ story.
Thinking back, I recalled Steele’s apparent attempt to dismiss the
Mantell case. I was convinced now. The Godman Field affair must hold an
important clue that I had overlooked. It might even be the key to the
whole flying saucer riddle.