PHOENIX: (Projekt Saucer series)

by W. A. Harbinson

  Thinking that the object was about to explode, Zamora threw himself to the ground. He felt a wave of heat, but when no explosion came, though the roaring continued, he got up again and ran back to his car. Bumping into it while glancing fearfully back over his shoulder, he lost his glasses and sunshades. Determined to keep the car between himself and the ascending object, which he still felt might explode, he ran north across the mesa, glancing back two or three times to observe that in about five or six seconds the object had risen level with his car, about twenty feet above the bottom of the arroyo. It was still roaring and shooting flame from its underside.

  About fifty feet from his car, when just over the rim of the hill, Zamora turned back towards the object, but shielded his eyes with his arm in case it exploded.

  At that moment, the roaring stopped and was replaced by a ‘sharp tone, a whining sound’ that went ‘from high tone to low tone in maybe a second, then stopped.’ And then there was silence.

  Zamora saw that the object was no longer rising, though it was still moving: heading away quickly, in perfect silence, west-southwest, passing over, or, rather, south of, the dynamite shack as it flew away.

  Realising that the object was in flight and not exploding as he had feared, Zamora raced back to his car, picked up his glasses and sunshades from where they had fallen, then once more radioed the Socorro chief dispatcher, Ned Lopez.

  Lopez later confirmed that he had received the call from Zamora, breathlessly telling him to look out the window of the sheriff’s office to see if the object was in sight. As Lopez was at the north window, not the south, and therefore could not see the object, he asked Zamora what kind of object it was. Zamora said, ‘It looks like a balloon.’

  Even as he was talking to Lopez, Zamora was watching the UFO disappearing in the distance. It stayed about ten to fifteen feet above the ground, following the terrain, until it was near the perlite mill on the west side of US 60, about a mile away. There, it ‘suddenly angled up in a steep climb and got small in the distance, over the canyon or mountain that way, very fast.’ He later remembered it as ‘a bright, whitish oval getting smaller and smaller as it sped away, upward and over the mountains.’

  Approximately one minute and fifty seconds after Zamora had first heard the roar and seen the ‘flame’ in the sky, the UFO was gone.

  Sent urgently to the landing zone by the message relayed through chief dispatcher Ned Lopez, New Mexico State Police Sergeant, Sam Chavez, reached Zamora just after the UFO had disappeared. Even as Chavez was approaching Zamora, the latter was making a sketch of the red insignia he had seen on the object before it took off. Though he had remained calm enough to do this, he was, according to Chavez, as ‘white as a sheet’ and in a cold sweat.

  Examining the landing site with Zamora, Chavez also saw that the brush was smouldering in several places, after being ignited by the flame, and that there was what appeared to be a ‘quadrangle’ formed by four heavy, wedge-shaped imprints in the soil.

  ‘So there you have it, folks,’ the TV reporter said breezily, standing in front of the barren landing site in the wastelands outside Socorro with a microphone in his hand and a view of the dynamite shack over his right shoulder. ‘A widely respected Deputy Marshal of Socorro, New Mexico, has stated categorically that he’s seen a flying saucer and its occupants. Whether it’s true or not remains to be seen. Maybe we’re not alone, folks!’

  Wilson used the remote control to switch the TV off. Then, quietly furious, he turned to Fallaci and said: ‘The damned fools! That was one of their experimental saucers from the White Sands Proving Ground. This will probably resurrect worldwide interest in flying saucers. I have to see Fuller.’

  ‘I’ll get him,’ Fallaci said.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven Wilson was right. The Socorro Incident of April 24, 1964, soon became the most famous UFO sighting since the original Socorro sighting of 1947, resurrecting widespread public interest in the subject and replenishing the depleted financial resources of the leading civilian UFO organisations by dramatically increasing their membership to what it had been three years earlier, before the dropping of Congressional hearings and the propaganda campaign against NICAP’s Donald E. Keyhoe had taken their toll.

  A few weeks after the Socorro Incident, Randall flew to Washington DC to have a meeting with Dr Frederick Epstein and Tony Scaduto in the revitalised APII organisation headquarters in 21st Street. As Scaduto had just returned from New Mexico, where he had been sent by Dr Epstein to check out the Socorro Incident, the purpose of the meeting was to hear what he had to say. Since Epstein was at that stage convinced that the UFOs were of extraterrestrial origin, Scaduto and Randall had still not confided their belief that at least some of the flying saucers could be man-made. Scaduto was now looking uncomfortable, because he was close to that subject.

  ‘First thing I learned when I got to Socorro,’ he reported, ‘is that Deputy Marshal Zamora’s radio transmissions had been heard by others, including State Police Senior Patrolman Ted V. Jordan, who arrived at the landing site shortly after Chavez, in the company of Socorro Under-Sheriff James Luckie. A cattle inspector named White, who had also heard Zamora’s radio calls, turned up at the landing site; and just after 6.00pm, FBI agent J. Arthur Byrnes arrived to investigate.’

  ‘So what did you find?’ Dr Epstein asked in his quiet, thoughtful way, while stroking his Vandyke beard, which now had lots of grey strands in it.

  ‘I found the burnt brush, which seemed genuine enough,’ Scaduto replied. ‘I then interviewed every witness I could find – the ones who’d seen the brush when the burning was still recent – and they all confirmed that the brush had been scorched by flames and that the pad prints, or landing imprints, had been made, in the words of one investigator, “by wedge-shaped units being forced by great weight down into the well-packed soil of the ravine.”’

  ‘What size would they have been?’ Epstein asked, letting the tip of his ballpoint pen dangle over his notebook.

  ‘The wedges would have had a horizontal length of twelve to sixteen inches, a horizontal width of six to eight inches, and a vertical wedge-depth of four to six inches. I have to say, though, that this latter measurement was impossible to define accurately because of the inward falling of the soil.’

  Scaduto withdrew a press cutting from his jacket pocket, unfolded it and smoothed it down on Epstein’s desk with the palm of his hand.

  ‘According to the detailed account in the April 28, 1964 edition of the local biweekly newspaper, El Defensor Chieftain,’ he continued, reading from the press cutting, ‘the landing gear imprints – I quote: “did not appear to have been made by an object striking the earth with great force, but by an object of considerable weight settling to earth at slow speed and not moving after touching the ground.”’

  He pushed the press cutting towards Dr Epstein, watched the older man pick it up enthusiastically, grinned nervously at Dwight, and then spoke again directly to Epstein.

  ‘Though some of the brush was still smouldering when Chavez, Jordan, Luckie and White were present, they all agreed that there was no odour indicating that combustion of any conventional fuel had caused the burn damage.’

  ‘Very good,’ Epstein murmured.

  ‘Jordan was particularly impressed by the fact that the flame described by Zamora had obviously sliced a large greasewood bush located almost centrally in the landing gear quadrilateral, without leaving any signs of turbulence, like the kind that would have been caused by normal rotors or jet exhausts. Jordan also took Polaroid pictures of the landing site and the four imprints within minutes of arriving on the scene.’

  ‘You obtained copies?’ Epstein asked, suddenly frowning like a stern schoolteacher.

  ‘Yes, boss, I got copies.’

  Epstein smiled and nodded. ‘Fine, Tony. Continue.’

  Scaduto glanced at Dwight and grinned, this time cockily, with pride, then turned back to Epstein. ‘Reasoning that the landing mechanisms of an experimental lunar
landing module could have made the depressions in the ground, I contacted informants in NASA and the Jet Propulsion Laboratory to find out if they, or any of the fifteen local industrial firms working for them, had been conducting any experiments with lunar landing modules in the area. In each case, the answer was “No.” I then established that no helicopters or aircraft were in the area at the time of the sighting and that the direction of the winds ruled out the possibility that the object was a weather balloon.’

  ‘This sounds too good to be true,’ Epstein said, smiling distractedly, as if lost in his own thoughts. ‘We certainly appear to be talking about a real, physical object that landed and took off again.’

  ‘Well, then, digest this interesting piece of news,’ Scaduto said, no longer looking even remotely uncomfortable and instead getting into his stride. ‘Just before leaving Socorro I received a call from my set of eyes and ears at the ATIC, and he told me that Project Blue Book, even under the leadership of the sceptical Major Quantinilla, is going to list the case as a genuine unidentified: the only combination of landing, trace and occupant case so far listed in the Blue Book files.’

  Epstein gave a soft whistle to express his surprise and pleasure.

  ‘At least they’re still doing something,’ Dwight said sardonically.

  ‘Now, now,’ Epstein responded soothingly, knowing how bitter Dwight felt about how he had been treated by the Air Force. ‘Go on, Tony. We’re listening.’

  ‘Regarding Project Blue Book’s involvement,’ Scaduto continued, ‘I found that the case had been examined by Dr Lincoln La Paz, who’d worked on the old Project Twinkle, and by NICAP’s Dr. J. Allen Hynek. The last named was there in his official capacity as consultant to the USAF. I also have it on the best of authority that Hynek has already pronounced it as, I quote, “one of the major UFO sightings in the history of the Air Force’s consideration of the subject.” That was the final clincher when it came to Major Quantinilla’s decision to list it in Project Blue Book’s files as the first known combination of UFO landing, trace and occupant case.’

  ‘Wonderful!’ Epstein exclaimed softly.

  ‘So what did you find out about the landing site?’ Dwight asked more pragmatically.

  ‘Examination of the landing site revealed that the diagonals of the quadrilateral formed by the four landing marks intersected almost exactly at right angles. I therefore asked for, and received, Hynek’s report, which contains an especially interesting notation.’

  Scaduto opened the notebook he’d been holding in his lap, flipped a few pages over, then read aloud: ‘One theorem in geometry states that if the diagonals of a quadrilateral intersect at right angles, the midpoints of the side of the quadrilateral lie on the circumference of a circle...’ He glanced up from the notebook. ‘Here’s the important point,’ he said, then went back to his reading. ‘It is thus of considerable interest that the centre of the circle so formed on the Socorro landing site virtually coincided with the principal burn mark on the ground. Under certain circumstances the centre of gravity of the craft would have been directly over the centre of the circle, hence making the presence of the burn mark more significant.’ He closed the notebook and looked up again. ‘In other words, what Hynek is saying is that the indentations and burn marks on the ground clearly indicated a real, physical object of circular shape. It wasn’t a mirage or hallucination on the part of Deputy Marshal Zamora. That vehicle was real enough... and it was shaped like an upside-down saucer.’

  ‘And if the vehicle was real,’ Dwight said, ‘then so were its crewmembers.’

  ‘Exactly!’ Scaduto exclaimed with satisfaction.

  ‘This is sounding better every minute,’ Epstein said.

  ‘And it gets even better,’ Scaduto told him. ‘Get this... Checking with a receptionist in the Socorro County Building – a nice lady, incidentally, who saved me a night’s hotel bill – I learnt that by 7.20pm on the evening of the sighting CIA agent Jack Fuller and US Army Captain Richard T. Holder, the up-range commander of the White Sands Stallion Site, met in the Socorro County Building, where they proceeded to interrogate Zamora. In the course of that interrogation – according to the tapes heard by my nice lady and others – Byrnes told Zamora that it would be better if he did not – and I quote again: “publicly mention seeing the two small figures in white”

  – unquote.’

  ‘Two small figures in white,’ Epstein repeated dreamily.

  ‘Correct.’

  ‘Not black?’ Dwight asked.

  ‘No. White.’

  ‘But they specifically told Zamora not to mention the figures seen standing beside the saucer-shaped object,’ Epstein said.

  ‘That’s right,’ Scaduto replied. ‘Which suggests that the figures in white coveralls were certainly there.’

  ‘Anything else?’

  ‘Yes.’ Scaduto was now visibly excited. ‘Jack Fuller then recommended that in future Zamora refuse to describe the insignia he had seen on the side of the vehicle to anyone other than official investigators.’

  ‘Insignia?’ Epstein asked, leaning forward to stare intently at his young researcher.

  ‘Yeah. There was an insignia on that aircraft. According to the report witnessed, notarised and filed in the Socorro County Building, it was red in colour and approximately one-and-a-half feet from top to bottom. Zamora sketched it for his report. According to his sketch, it was an inverted V, or a vertical arrow, with a line under it, vertical lines on each side, and a parabolic arc over the point of the arrow.’

  ‘Any idea what it represented?’

  ‘Some.’ Scaduto’s grin was now openly triumphant. ‘A computer scientist buddy of mine ran it through his data base and came up with the notion that it’s similar to a medieval Arabic sign for Venus. However, another friend, an aeronautical engineer, insisted that it’s confirmation that the UFO was a man-made vehicle.’

  ‘Man-made?’ Epstein echoed him. ‘I don’t think I can wear this.’

  ‘I think you might, boss.’

  ‘Okay, Tony, continue.’

  ‘In support of his claim, this buddy of mine showed me how, by moving and rotating the lines of the drawing, the acronyms “CIA” and “AD” could be formed, the latter representing the initials of Allen Dulles, present head of the CIA. My buddy also showed me that the parabolic arc above the arrow, or inverted V, could represent a stylised cross-section of the body of the flying saucer – or a pressure wave – while the arrow, or inverted V, with a line under it, could indicate that a vertical thruster is located centrally in the fuselage, or circular wing. Finally, he knocked me sideways by stating that the placing of the symbol on the side of the vehicle – just above the thruster orifice on its underside – could be a warning that the thruster is located there; while the use of red for the symbol could be a danger sign, just as it is with contemporary aircraft symbols.’

  Scaduto straightened up in his chair, looking pleased with himself.

  ‘So where is this leading?’ Epstein asked in his quiet, patient manner.

  ‘The implication,’ Scaduto said, ‘is that the Socorro sighting was of a highly sophisticated, piloted, vertical-ascent-and-descent, man-made aircraft that had flown from, and returned to, somewhere in the White Sands Proving Ground.’

  For a considerable period of time there was silence in the room, broken only by the soft drumming of Epstein’s fingers on the desk. Eventually he took a deep breath and said, ‘Man-made flying saucers?’

  ‘Yes. Constructed in the United States, most likely in the White Sands Proving Ground.’

  ‘But do you believe those flying saucers can account for all the sightings we’ve had since World War Two?’

  ‘No,’ Scaduto said. ‘But they sure as hell could account for the many stories of flying saucers being held in top-secret hangars in US Air Force bases.’

  ‘And the other ones? The technologically superior ones? The so-called mother ships?’

  Scaduto shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’
>
  ‘Well,’ Epstein said after some thought, ‘although the APII has, up to now, carefully avoided all so-called “occupant” cases, in this instance, given Deputy Marshal Zamora’s reliability as a witness, and because Project Blue Book is listing the case as a genuine unidentified, I think we should – how shall I put it? – liberalise the organisation by including occupant cases in the future. I myself will avoid the man-made flying saucer hypothesis, but if you gentlemen wish to pursue it, by all means do so. In the meantime, I think we should use the latest Socorro sighting as leverage to press again for Congressional hearings.’

  ‘Good idea,’ Dwight said.

  Sitting behind his desk, wearing an English tweed jacket and grey pants, with striped shirt and tie, his hair still plentiful even if turning grey, as was his short, pointed beard, Dr Epstein looked older than his age. After massaging his forehead, he sighed and glanced from Scaduto to Dwight.

  ‘Well, gentlemen, I guess that’s it for the day. It’s a lot for one day.’

  ‘You want to join us for lunch?’ Dwight asked him. ‘I’m having a light lunch with Tony here, before catching the plane back to Dayton.’

  Epstein glanced at the mass of papers on his desk, then raised and lowered his hands in a rabbinical gesture – or simply one of weariness. ‘I can’t. The Socorro incident has brought the work in and my desk, as you can see, is already overburdened. Besides, when I get tired I can’t eat – and I certainly can’t take a drink at lunchtime – so I’ll take a rain check.’

  ‘You’re sure?’

  ‘Yes, I’m sure.’

  Dwight and Scaduto pushed their chairs back, then Dwight leaned over the desk to shake Epstein’s hand. ‘Until the next time.’

  ‘Have a good lunch and a pleasant flight home,’ Epstein said.

  Scaduto just waved his hand and sauntered out of the office ahead of Dwight. Once on the sidewalk outside the building, they took a cab the short distance to Clyde’s garden restaurant in M Street, Georgetown, near to where Bob Jackson had died, possibly murdered. Recalling that dreadful event, Dwight felt a spasm of grief combined with rage and decided that he needed a stiff drink. When they were seated in Clyde’s, packed with the usual lunchtime crowd, a bedlam of genial conversation, Dwight ordered a large bourbon. Scaduto had beer. Throughout the lunch they talked non-stop about UFOs in general and the recent Socorro Incident in particular, growing more excited every minute. This did not help Dwight to forget that his good friend, Bob Jackson, had died, or more likely had been murdered, just a little farther along the street. No way in the world would Dwight ever believe that Bob had died of a heart attack.