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saw about 15 following at a distance, their strange glow flashing on and off. One foo fighter chased Lieutenant Meiers of Chicago some 20 miles down the Rhine Valley, at 300 m.p.h., an A.P. war correspondent reported. Intelligence officers believed at that time that the b.a.l.l.s might be radar-controlled objects sent up to foul ignition systems or baffle Allied radar networks.
There is no explanation of their appearance here, unless the objects could have been imported for secret tests in this country.
I read the last paragraph twice. This looked like a strong lead to the answer, in spite of the Air Force denials. There was another, less pleasant possibility. The Russians could have seized the device and developed it secretly, using n.a.z.i scientists to help them. Perhaps the n.a.z.is had been close to an atomic engine, even if they did fail to produce the bomb.
Jack Daly came in while I was reading the story again.
"I got the dope on Steele," he said. "He does pieces for a small syndicate, and I found out he was in the Air Force. I think he was a captain. People who know him say he"s O.K.--a straight shooter."
"That still wouldn"t keep him from giving me a fake tip, if somebody told him it was the right thing to do."
"Maybe not," said Jack, "but why would they want to plant this foo-fighter idea?"
I showed him the clipping. He read it over and shook his head.
"That"s a lot different from disks three hundred feet in diameter."
"If we got the principle--or Russia did-building big ones might not be too hard."
"I still can"t swallow it," said Jack. "These things have been seen all over the world. How could they control them that far away--and be sure they wouldn"t crash, where somebody could get a look and dope out the secret?"
We argued it back and forth without getting anywhere.
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"I"d give a lot to know Steele"s angle," I said. "If you hear anything more on him, give me a buzz."
Jack nodded. "I"ll see what I can do. But I can"t dig too hard, or he"ll hear about it."
On the way out, I found a phone booth and called Splitt.
"Foo fighters?" he said. "Sure, I remember those stories. You think those are your flying saucers?"
I could hear him snicker.
"Just checking angles," I said. "Didn"t the Eighth Air Force investigate the foo fighters?"
"Yes, and they found nothing to back up the pilots" yarns. just war nerves, apparently."
"How about a look at the Intelligence report?" I asked.
"Wait a minute." Splitt was gone for twice that time, then he carne back. "Sorry, it"s cla.s.sified."
"If all this stuff is bunk, why keep the lid on it?" I demanded. I was getting sore again.
"Look, Don," said Splitt, "I don"t make the rules."
"Sure, I know--sorry," I said. I had a notion to ask him if he knew John Steele, but hung up instead. There was no use in banging my head against the Air Force wall.
The next day I decided to a.n.a.lyze the Mantell case from beginning to end. It looked like the key to one angle: the question of an Air Force secret missile. Unless there was some slip-up, so that Mantell and his pilots had been ordered to chase the disk by mistake, then it would be cold murder.
I couldn"t believe any Air Force officer would give such an order, no matter how tremendous the secret to be hidden.
But I was going to find out, if possible.
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CHAPTER V
FOR MORE than two weeks, I checked on the G.o.dman 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 G.o.dman. 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 Sat.u.r.day 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
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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 G.o.dman. 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.