OCCULT NAZIS FROM OUTER SPACE, PART 1

OCCULT NAZIS FROM OUTER SPACE
A Guide to the Federal
UFO/Mind Control Initiative

By Alex Constantine

On April 29, 1945 the 363rd Medical Battalion entered Experimentation Block Five at Dachau, the setting of pitiless terminal experiments on prisoners. Inside, the medics were met by the stench of human putrescence and the shock of bloody body parts strewn from one end of the block to the other. The men whoÕd engaged in the cull were highly-respected German scientists and academics. Despite the atrocities, many of the medical criminals escaped justice at Nuremberg with a cheerful assist from the U.S. Army Air Force, and vanished into the secret netherworld of Project Paperclip.
For 19 years, this was the caliber of scientist assigned to Edgewood Arsenal and a program overseen jointly by the U.S. Army Intelligence Board and the Chemical Warfare Laboratories in Maryland, to whip up blistering chemical warfare agents and potent psychoactive compounds for testing on "our boys." The American peers of the Paperclip talent, drawing knowledge and inspiration from Dachau experimentation records, tested powerful toxins in a wide range of non-consentual mind control experiments involving at least seven thousand military guinea pigs at Edgewood.
The State Department has admitted that between 1945 and 1952, 642 "alien specialists" emigrated to the United States. But journalist Linda Hunt, in Secret Agenda, a history of Paperclip, discovered that at least 1,600 "scientific and research specialists and thousands of their dependents were brought to the U.S. [and] hundreds of others arrived under two other Paperclip-related projects and went to work for universities, defense contractors and CIA fronts"
The State DepartmentÕs fuzzy math and memory gave rise to a "lie that concealed some of the most damning information about the project Ñ in particular the shocking revelation that one of the intelligence officers who ran it was a spy." This would be Lieutenant Colonel William Henry Whalen, "the highest-placed American military officer ever convicted of espionage.... He was running Paperclip at the same time he was selling America's defense secrets to Soviet intelligence agents." The FBI arrested Whelan Ð then intelligence adviser to the Army Chief of Staff and a paid mole for the Russian Intelligence Service Ð in 1962. He received a very liberal sentence for the sale of US nuclear weapon secrets and strategies to the Soviets Ð six years behind bars before parole.

A Saucer Full of Secrets

The search for the holy technological Grail of Nazi Germany yielded astonishing results. Major General Hugh Knerr, deputy commanding general for administration of American Strategic Forces in Europe, wrote to Lieutenant General Carl Spatz in March 1945: "Occupation of German scientific and industrial establishments has revealed [that] we have been alarmingly backward in many fields of research." If the American military did not seize "the apparatus and the brains" of Nazi Germany, and put them to work immediately, "we will remain several years behind while we attempt to cover a field already exploited."
So much to learn from the Nazis. The lure of advanced scientific knowledge Ð glimpsed in the "Oslo Letter," an inventory of Nazi technology compiled by intelligence agents in Norway Ð beckoned to the Paperclip scavengers like sirens on a shore of cadavers, offering remote-controlled explosive devices and rockets, communications technology, radar, long-distance bombers ... and a disk-shaped airfoil with vertical lift capabilities developed by Dr. Alexander Lippish at the Gottingen Aviation Institute.
LippishÕs influence on the science of circular airfoils was pervasive. He was among the key Paperclip aeronautical engineers to resettle at Wright Field after the war, a contingent that also included Rudolph Hermann, Heinz Schmitt, Helmut Heinrich, Fritz Doblhoff and Ernst Zundel, the notorious anti-Semitic historical revisionist. Hermann, the 1947 Aircraft Year Book reports, "was attached to the Peenemunde Research Station for Aerodynamics where GermanyÕs V-2 rockets were hatched and launched against England. A specialist in supersonics ... he was also a member of the group entrusted with HitlerÕs futuristic plans to establish a space-station rocket-refueling base revolving as a satellite about the Earth ... a scheme which he and certain high ranking AAF officers in 1947 still believed possible."
In November 2000, Popular Mechanics turned its bench lights on another long-suppressed creature from the black budget, "a 40-ft. Ôflying saucerÕ designed to rain nuclear destruction on the Soviet Union from 300 miles in space." The nuclear-powered design was known as the Lenticular Reentry Vehicle (LRV), drawn up by engineers at North American Aviation, Los Angeles division, under Air Force contract. Creation of the nuke-bearing LRV "was managed out of Wright-Patterson Air Force Base, in Dayton, Ohio, where German engineers who had worked on rocket plane and flying disc technology had been resettled."
Legendary Nazi test-pilot Rudi Opitz among them. The Web site of the Air Force Museum at Wright-Patterson recollects that in 1940, Opitz was assigned to the Me 163 Komet, a covert Nazi rocket ship design that could have been swiped from the cover of Amazing Stories, a squat tear-drop affair with shark fins. "He explored high-speed flight approaching the speed of sound and in the military version rocket-powered interceptor made the first flight. Opitz was responsible for the flight test development of this remarkable aircraft that could go from a standing period start to an altitude of 40,000 feet in three and one-quarter minutes. After World War II Opitz joined the U.S. Air Force aeronautical research effort at Wright Field."
É To work on a flying saucer. German engineering advances dovetailed neatly with the U.S. militaryÕs own forays into disk technology.

From the April 7, 1950 issue of U.S. News & World Report:

FLYING SAUCERS Ñ THE REAL STORY:
U.S. BUILT FIRST ONE IN 1942

All observers of strange, disk-shaped aircraft flitting through the sky could be assured that they werenÕt suffering from insulin shock: "TheyÕre real," these "sky disks manned by regular pilots" that could "hover aloft, spurt ahead at tremendous speed, outmaneuver conventional craft. No official announcements are being made yet."
The first model was designed by Charles Zimmerman and his fellow engineers at the National Advisory Committee for Aeronautics. This "Flying Pancake" was "elliptical in shape, powered by two piston engines and driven by twin propellers. It has a maximum speed between 400 and 500 miles an hour." The prototype could take off "almost vertically and its minimum speed for landing was 35 miles an hour, a real advantage in military and naval aircraft. The idea behind those original flying saucer projects, both in the U.S. and abroad in Germany and Italy, was to overcome basic drawbacks of conventional aircraft."
The V-173, a full-scale demonstration model constructed of wood and fabric by Chance Vought (now LTVAerospace), was once test-flown by Charles Lindbergh.
The Air Force and Navy issued prompt denials in response to the U.S. News article. President Truman followed suit via his press secretary, Charles Ross. The effort was ultimately wasted. Today, Vought proudly displays photos of the V-173 on the Internet.
The aircraft performed well in tests, taking off rapidly and refusing to stall or spin. Nevertheless, the Pancake flight concept was scrapped by the Air Force in 1958.

Scientists at White Sands Missile Base in New Mexico tracked a circular vehicle in April 1949 for about three minutes with instruments used to monitor high-altitude balloons. The saucer was 105Õ in diameter, a dull metallic-white, propelled by an array of jets positioned below the center of gravity.
Similar designs had taken to the skies in Nazi Germany to befuddle observers in the mid-1940s. One German prototype, dubbed the AS-6, was cobbled together by Arthur Sack, a farmer from the outskirts of Leipzig, at the Brandis airflight shop in Flugplatz-Werkstatt. It was equipped with a 140 horsepower engine. The AS-6 was test-flown (and crash-landed recurrently) in Germany throughout 1944.
Inventor Viktor Shauberger was imprisoned at a concentration camp during the war and coerced into working on another Nazi saucer project, detailed in a letter from Europe to a friend dated August 2, 1958, shortly before his death. Shauberger wrote that his machine was "flight-tested near Prague" and "attained 15,000 meters in three minutes." It was "constructed according to a model I built at Mauthausen concentration camp in collaboration with the first-class engineers and stress-analysts assigned to me from the prisoners there."
His saucer was turtle-shaped, ten feet in diameter, propelled by "implosion" drive, shot off vertically so fast during the test that it collided against the hangar ceiling and exploded. After the war, Shauberger learned from a Czech prisoner under his direction that R&D of the saucer had been revived in the U.S. Shauberger: "An American consortium offered me $3,500,000 to divulge the secret of the UFO to three of their experts. A similar offer was made by Canadian interests." He demanded that an internationally binding agreement be signed before he meet with the engineers. A contract was drawn up but Shauberger died before the conference could take place.
Biographer David Myrha of North Dakota published a book in 1988, The Horten Brothers and their All-Wing Aircraft (Shiffer Military and Aviation Series), on the development of a circular design in Nazi Germany overseen by HitlerÕs elite. Aircraft designers Reimer and Walter Horten mingled with Ernst Rudel, Hermann Goering, Willy Messerschmidt and the like. After a taste of the battlefield, the Horten brothers were transferred to the Luftwaffe and set to work on the design of an unusual supersonic fighter jet shaped like "a flying dinner plate." This project was completed in December 1944.
Another clutch of German aeronautical engineers developed the A-7 "flying top." This aircraft was 42 meters in diameter, capable of rapid near-vertical lift, utilizing a flat gyroscopic ring that spun around a dome-shaped cupola. The contraption was propelled by articulated jet thrusts designed by Richard Miethe and was capable of reaching an elevation of 12,400 meters in three minutes.
(On the evening of June 29, 1964, a B.E. Barnham, driving on State Route 59 near Lavonia, Georgia, was harassed by an aerial object buzzing his car that fit this description almost exactly. Barnham said that the craft looked like a "flying top." The spinning buzz-saw wing, he reported, sounded like "a million hissing snakes," and the object left in its wake the odor of embalming fluid.)
The A-7 was seized by the Russians at the end of the war, but Herr Miethe resettled in the United States and found employment with the Canadian A.V. Roe Company, home of the star-crossed "Avro Car" saucer design under the Air Force "Silver Bug" VTOL umbrella program. (Another, Project Pye Wacket, designed missiles in the form of small flying disks.) The Avro machine was based on the work of Miethe and his fellow Nazi scientists, according to a CIA memo. ItÕs very likely the world would have never heard of the saucer if not for Jack Judges, a freelance photographer who caught the grounded saucer on film while flying over A.V. Roe facilities.
The saucers have a military pedigree but the Pentagon stonewalled. And still does. But the bell-jar of secrecy surrounding the federal UFO armada was not airtight in the early days of the program. The Air Force loosened its lips in 1955, according to German Secret Weapons of the Second World War, a weapons inventory, with the announcement that aircraft was scheduled for testing that corresponded to the popular conception of a "flying saucer."
Carroll Freeman, 82, a retired Curtis-Wright aeronautical engineer now living in Utah, does not doubt that the DoD and its Nordic science department built the saucers. In 1947, he was a fighter pilot in the Air Force and while flying a T-6 fighter jet near Maxwell Field, Freeman, then a second lieutenant, nearly collided with a UFO piloted by humans. "I was making a swing to the left," Freman recalls, "a shallow sweep at about 9,000 feet. As I swung around, heading due west, hereÕs this damn thing flying in about 50 feet away, just below me." The disk was domed, he says, and "I could clearly see three people sitting inside Ñ as a matter of fact, one of them looked like a cousin of mine Ñ but three air-breathing human beings." The saucer was "a good-sized piece of equipment." It was so imposing an aircraft that when he made radio contact with Maxwell AFB, Freeman described it as "a flying apartment building."

The Final Solution
to the Free Thought Question

Meanwhile, in the brainwash division, the CIA gradually seized control of Project Paperclip and all human medical experimentation at Edgewood Arsenal. "By 1951," Linda Hunt writes, "in the midst of the Korean War, the Paperclip scientists' primary job was to locate plants and poisons that could be turned into new hallucinogenic mind control drugs." To this end, Seymour Silver founded an industrial liaison front with ties to every major pharmaceutical company in the world, particularly I.G. Farben, the German Siamese twin of the Rockefeller petrochemical empire with key personnel planted in strategic places within the Nazi hierarchy. I.G Farben was also a chief consultant to the scientists at Edgewood after the war. Dr. Ray Treichler, assistant to the director of the medical lab and an agent of the CIA's Technical Services Division, participated in the experimentation. Edgewood-Nazi chemist Friedrich Hoffman side-lined as a psychochemical specialist on the CIA payroll. By 1955, the experimentation was run primarily from Langley.
The Joint Intelligence Objectives Committee, the central military authority engaged in mind control experiments at Edgwood, had been immersed in Paperclip from the start. JIOC officials included the ProjectÕs Brigadier General John Samford, ranking Air Force intelligence official and later director of the NSA, and U.S. Army Intelligence Director Alexander Bolling, one of several military officials who attended a summer-long debriefing on Nazi affairs from Reinhard Gehlen, HitlerÕs intelligence czar, at Fort Hunt, Virginia. (This very meeting initiated the Cold War, a fact lost to most historians. Journalist Martin A. Lee: "Gehlen returned to West Germany in the summer of 1946 with a mandate to rebuild his espionage organization and resume spying on the East at the behest of American intelligence. The date is significant as it preceded the onset of the Cold War." The approved historical account claims that the Cold War did not begin for another year. "Washington was in a Cold War mode sooner than most people realize. The Gehlen gambit also belies the prevalent Western notion that aggressive Soviet policies were primarily to blame for triggering the Cold War.")
The director of the JOIA was Navy Captain Bosquet N. Wev, who made his argument for the recruitment of Nazis in an April 27, 1948 memo to the PentagonÕs Director of Intelligence. Captain Wev was peeved at the "biased considerations" behind federal investigations of Nazi war criminals on domestic soil. These, he opined, were rendered irrelevant by the end of the war. "To continue to treat Nazi affiliations as significant considerations has been aptly phrased as `beating a dead Nazi horse.'"
The results of Nazi medical experimentation on American citizens were predictable. Hunt explains that the direction of Paperclip "was set now that Edgewood had made its pact with the devil. The drug experimentation project quickly expanded to include psychiatric patients who were drugged, shocked and hypnotized in psychochemical experiments conducted under Army contracts with numerous universities and other institutions." Some of the trials