Flying Saucers from the Kremlin Read online

  There are also rumors that, as a Soviet asset, Hunrath was ordered by his Kremlin masters to try and penetrate the heart of the Robertson Panel. Incredibly, there is a small body of data in support of this claim. According to the legendary cartoonist R. Crumb, on one occasion while visiting his good friend - and Robertson Panel asset - Ward Kimball, and with fellow artists Bob Armstrong and Al Dodge, Kimball “…told us an interesting story. Back in the 1950s they were working on a series about rockets and outer space technology for the Disneyland TV show. I remember seeing those shows when I was a kid. There was a scientist named Wilkins who worked on the project. Wilkins started bringing around this guy called ‘Huunrath’, supposedly a colleague of his. Kimball said at first no one took much notice of the guy Huunrath. He was just unobtrusive. He was kind of strange. He didn’t say much. He walked kind of stiffly and he wore a suit and tie that were ill-fitting.”

  Crumb was slightly erroneous in terms of the names. It’s clear that “Wilkins” and “Huunrath” were really Wilkinson and Hunrath. The Hunrath-Kimball-Wilkinson meetings can only have occurred in 1953, as the pair vanished forever in November of that year. That Hunrath was getting close to Ward Kimball - who was already on-board with the CIA’s Robertson Panel - demonstrated Hunrath’s determination to uncover the scoop on what was afoot at a deep, official level regarding the Robertson Panel, UFOs and the U.S. Government. And to hand over that same scoop to his Russian handlers, no less.

  9. “A possible communist menace to saucer enthusiasts”

  One of those who, in the 1950s, took a deep interest in the Russian connection to the flying saucer phenomenon was the late Jim Moseley, who died in 2012 at the age of eighty-one, and whose opinions on George Adamski we have already digested. For the ufologically-minded, Moseley was without a doubt most associated with his highly entertaining newsletter, Saucer Smear. It was a semi-regular, self-published collection of Moseley’s comments, rants and observations on the UFO research scene. Moseley was someone who, in later years, focused just about all of his time and effort on poking fun at ufologists whenever and wherever he could. He did so in a very witty fashion, too. I should stress, though, that Moseley did have a real, deep interest in the UFO phenomenon itself. And a firm belief in it, too. Right up until the time of his death.

  Back in 1953 Moseley hit the road – in what really was a definitive Jack Kerouac/Neal Cassady-style – in search of the answers to what was going on in the heavens above. What Moseley found out, as he traveled from New York to California and back again, was a significantly varied and entertaining collection of eccentrics, liars, nut-jobs, and – to Moseley’s relief - genuinely interesting eyewitnesses to strange, aerial craft in the skies of 1950s America. Altogether, Moseley interviewed around one hundred people, on a clunky big recorder, which was no mean feat. The list of interviewees included George Adamski himself and Frank Scully, the man whose 1950 book, Behind the Flying Saucers, led to Silas Newton’s secret recruitment by agents of the U.S. government, as revealed by the CIA’s Karl Pflock.

  Moseley’s coast-to-coast trip was funded by a guy named Ken Krippine. He was a somewhat shady, dubious character who had suggested that if he, Moseley, would do all of the research, then Krippine would write a book on Moseley’s UFO findings. The two would then split the profits right down the middle. Sounds good, right? Well, for a while, yes, it sounded very good. The proposed book, however, did not materialize; at least not as Moseley and Krippine had originally planned things. No, it wasn’t due to the infernal intervention of the mysterious Men in Black. Rather, it was all due to a distinct lack of interest on the part of just about every publisher that Moseley approached with his well-thumbed and increasingly-creased and crumpled manuscript. Moseley was not one to be daunted, however. Years later – decades, in fact – he put just about all of his old notes and audio-recordings to good use in his hilarious autobiography, Shockingly Close to the Truth, which was written with Karl Pflock.

  It was in 1955 that Moseley, in his own words, “had fallen under the influence” of a man named Charles Samwick. The latter was someone who, before retiring from the U.S. Army, worked in the hall-and-mirrors-filled world of counter-intelligence, which included keeping a very close eye on what the Russians were said to be up to inside the United States. Not only that, Moseley was able to determine that Samwick had, in some hazy, unclear fashion, ties to the CIA’s Robertson Panel and had once helped to bust a Soviet spy-ring in Washington, D.C. Samwick and Moseley soon became good buddies, with Moseley somewhat dazzled and disturbed by one particular thing Samwick had to say. He told Moseley: “The Communist Party has planted an agent in every civilian saucer club in the United States.” Whether this was true, or amounted to hard-to-prove words inspired by the likes of Joseph McCarthy, Moseley was in no position to disagree with his well-informed source. But, he did make Samwick’s revelations the subject of an editorial in his pre-Saucer Smear newsletter, Saucer News. In the June-July 1955 issue Moseley revealed the following to his eager readers, but specifically without revealing Samwick’s name:

  Although it is perhaps unwise to inject a political note into a flying saucer magazine, we feel obliged to point out to our readers certain dangers which, taken together, add up to a possible Communist menace to saucer enthusiasts. First, for several months we have had good reason to believe that Communist agents have been planted in all of America’s leading saucer groups, for information-gathering purposes. This in itself is not a startling fact, but it should serve as a note of caution to saucer researchers who in the course of their studies might unearth information of a technical military nature.

  Secondly, let us all give some very serious consideration to the many alleged space men being called to the public’s attention – all of whom invariably tell us of the dangers of war and the exploitation of atomic energy. No one desires peace any more than we do, but let us remember too that it is part of the Communist “peace line” to frighten the American people into ceasing our atomic experiments. It is quite possible that some of these ‘space men’ are unwittingly playing into the hands of the Communists.

  Last, but not least, let us not fall into the pitfall of condemning the Government of the United States just because the Air Force refuses to tell us all we would like to know about flying saucers – I have been told that some of the remarks made at the Saucer Convention last March came dangerously close to sedition!

  Even as ardently loyal saucer fans, we all can and should face the fact that there are more important and immediate problems in the world today. Whether the saucers are held to be from Space or Earth, it is quite obvious that they present no immediate threat to the safety of this Country; so there is nothing to worry about. Of course everyone would be happier if “officialdom” would be more generous with its information on saucers, but for the present we can only assume that there is a good sufficient reason for the continuing scarcity of information from official sources.

  In making the above remarks, we are not referring to any particular individual or organization in the field of saucer research. We are merely observing that the saucerian field is alarmingly ripe for use in furthering Communist ends. Let each individual among us be on his guard that he does not fall into such a trap.

  Now, let’s focus on Truman Bethurum. He was a contactee who had a decade or so of fame in the arena of the Space Brothers. His 1954 book, Aboard a Flying Saucer, remains a Contactee classic of its kind. Jim Moseley got to know Bethurum well. In the 1950s, Bethurum claimed flirty, late-night close encounters with a beautiful alien space-babe named Aura Rhanes. “Tops in shapeliness and beauty” was the way Bethurum described “the captain” of the ship. The locations of all the action were almost always isolated areas of Nevada’s expansive Mormon Mountains. Most ufologists of the day, very understandably, dismissed Bethurum’s tales as fantasies run wild and free. It’s intriguing, however, to note the following words from Bethurum:

  “Two or three fel
lows who had sons in Korea and who read a lot in the newspapers about the Communist underground in this country, were convinced in their own minds that I was, if making contact with anyone at all, making it with enemy agents [italics mine]. They even went so far as to tell me belligerently that they intended to get guns and follow me nights, and if they caught up me having intercourse with any people from planes, airships of any kind, they’d blast me and those people too.”

  Was Aura Rhanes a figment of Bethurum’s imagination? Could she have been an alien? Might she have been one of those “enemy agents” to which Bethurum referred? A Russian plant seeking to manipulate the UFO scene? Taking into consideration all that we have learned so far, we should not dismiss the latter possibility out of hand. On a related matter, it’s worth noting that FBI records demonstrate that in December 1954, the Palm Springs Republican Club contacted the FBI to inquire if Bethurum might be guilty of “trying to put over any propaganda.”

  Bethurum, not surprisingly, became the subject of an FBI file that ran to a couple of dozen pages. It was primarily focused on those “enemy agent”-driven comments that Bethurum himself highlighted on the lecture circuit. Once again we see evidence of government concerns about a contactee, propaganda, and possible foreign operatives – and all in relation to controversial tales of aliens. Also in 1954, the FBI sat up and took notice when Bethurum announced plans to speak at an event in Ohio with fellow contactee, George Hunt Williamson. As we’ve seen, Williamson was hardly unknown to the FBI.

  10. “A subversive element”

  Did U.S. agents, in the 1950s, clandestinely drug one of the early Contactees, specifically as a means to determine if he was working with the Soviets to promote communism? It’s a loaded question that takes us down some dark and winding alleyways, to say the least. The story – worthy of a Hollywood movie of conspiratorial proportions – is one of those too good to be true sagas that, incredibly, turned out to be true, after all. The poor figure who found himself caught in a state of fear and paranoia was Orfeo Angelucci; he was a somewhat meek, fragile character who was blighted by ill-health and low-esteem from childhood. That is, until he had a series of life-changing UFO encounters that energized him and gave him a new lease on life. It’s fair to say that Angelucci was someone who very much rode on the coattails of the likes of Georges one, two and three: that’s Adamski, Van Tassel, and Williamson. Angelucci never reached the stratospheric heights of Adamski. He was, though, one of the key players in the Contactee arena of the 1950s. Little did Angelucci realize that he would one day attract the attention of government agents and the military; they were determined to uncover the truth of the man’s claims and connections, by fair means or foul. Mostly foul, as it turned out.

  In April 1952, Angelucci secured a good job with the Lockheed Aircraft Corporation in Burbank, California, specifically in the Plastics Unit. On May 23, 1952 Angelucci was working the late-shift at Lockheed. It wasn’t long after midnight when he finally hit the road, looking forward to seeing his wife. All was normal. That is, until it wasn’t. While he drove along Los Angeles’ Victory Boulevard things became strange; very strange. Out of the corner of his eye, Angelucci saw a bright, red light; it was moving low in the dark skies. Puzzled, he slowed down his car and kept his eye on the whatever-it-was. It didn’t appear to be a solid, nuts-and-bolts aircraft of some sort. Rather, it was a ball of light, around five times the size of an average traffic light. Somewhat disturbingly, and as Angelucci continued his drive, the light appeared to be shadowing him. Feeling nervous, he decided to keep driving and hoped that the light would vanish. It did not. Shortly after crossing a bridge over the Los Angeles River, and at an intersection which Angelucci described as a “lonely, deserted stretch of road called Forest Lawn Drive,” a pair of small lights – maybe around two feet in diameter – shot out of the larger light, which soared into the dark skies. Angelucci brought his car to the proverbial screeching halt. He could only sit and stare as the pair of lights bobbed in the air, like floating beach balls. Suddenly, there was a development; an astounding one.

  As Angelucci looked on, a voice emanated from one of the balls. According to the man himself, it was “a masculine voice in strong, well-modulated tones and speaking perfect English.” The voice assured Angelucci that he should not afraid; no harm would come to him. Stressing to Angelucci that he was in the company of friends, the voice said, in a typical, know-it-all Space Brother fashion: “Man believes himself civilized, but often his thoughts are barbaric and his emotions lethal. We do not say this as criticism, but state it only as fact. Thus it is best to approach all planetary visitors with friendly, welcoming thoughts.”

  The lights shot away, leaving Angelucci amazed and excited. Two months later, he would have yet another encounter.

  It was the night of July 23, 1952 and Angelucci felt compelled to head out to the Glendale Hyperion Bridge, which crosses the Los Angeles River and Interstate 5. He did so on foot. In his own words, “dense, oblique shadows down below” transformed things into “a shadowed no-man’s land.” His breathing became shallow, his hands and legs tingled, and a rising panic-attack threatened to overwhelm him. Then, suddenly, a “huge, misty soap bubble squatting on the ground, emitting a fuzzy pale glow” appeared before him. That soap bubble-type light suddenly transformed into what appeared to be a solid metallic craft. Angelucci moved slowly towards it; entering the object through a small doorway and into a darkened room. It contained nothing but a chair. On sitting down, Angelucci soon felt unable to move; his body was suddenly weak and heavy. It was, he claimed, all due to the effects of G-forces: the craft was apparently high in the sky in no time at all. Peering out of a conveniently positioned window, Angelucci could see the bright lights of Los Angeles glowing far below him. The lights got fainter and fainter as the craft got progressively higher and higher: “I trembled as I realized I was actually looking upon a planet from somewhere out in space.”

  A booming voice suddenly filled the room: “Orfeo, you are looking upon Earth – your home! From here, over a thousand miles away, in space, it appears as the most beautiful planet in the heavens and a haven of peace and tranquility. But you and your Earthly brothers know the true conditions there.” He was warned that an “hour of crisis” was looming; that the human race was in a state of major uncertainty that just might lead to a disastrous atomic war between East and West. Instantly, and as the Lord’s Prayer boomed out of unseen speakers, Angelucci knew he had to do the bidding of the invisible entities on-board the spaceship: spread the word of friendly aliens from a faraway world. In minutes, he was returned to the shadow-filled bridge and left to make his way home. Angelucci’s life – which was to be filled with further encounters of the peace and love type - would never be quite the same again.

  Like so many of the Contactees, Angelucci was soon on the lecture circuit, which included becoming a regular at George Van Tassel’s gigs out at Giant Rock, California. Angelucci also turned his attention to writing books; his most remembered one being 1955’s The Secret of the Saucers. Now, it’s time to get to the second part of the Angelucci story. It’s one that revolves around not aliens, but the military: “secret-agents” and one of the most notorious periods in the history of the CIA.

  By the mid-1950s, Angelucci had moved on from his job at Lockheed and he and his family were now based out of Twentynine Palms, San Bernadino County, California. And, with The Secret of the Saucers on the bookshelves, he was becoming a familiar face at UFO lectures and conferences. It was in this period that Angelucci caught the attention of the FBI – and for a very curious reason. As he became more adept at public speaking, and more comfortable about discussing his claimed encounters with aliens, Angelucci revealed something disturbingly eye-opening. It was something that soon had the Feds on his tail. According to Angelucci, as his profile as one of the Contactees grew and grew, he found himself approached on several occasions by what he described as a “subversive element.” This small g
roup – “foreigners,” as he worded it - first approached Angelucci while he was engaged in a series of lectures along the east coast in the 1950s. Regular UFO enthusiasts, they were certainly not. They did their very best to try and encourage Angelucci to suggest to his listeners and readers that his alien comrades were communists. In correspondence with Jim Moseley, who, as we have seen, spent time addressing the matter of a Russian plot to manipulate the U.S. UFO scene, Angelucci claimed that this “gang of four,” as we might describe them, bought him dinner on three occasions and plied him with plentiful amounts of booze in plush New York hotels and bars.

  Angelucci admitted to Moseley that he was “flattered” by the attention, but remained very uneasy about the agenda. Angelucci would later say of this curious affair: “Failing in their desperate attempts to convert me to communism and slant my talks along the Party Line, they invariably defiantly demanded: ‘Well, then, just what do you think is wrong with Communism?’”

  Shortly before Angelucci publicly revealed that a certain “subversive element” was mixing and stirring left-wing, extremist politics with extraterrestrials, the FBI came knocking on the front-door of the Angelucci home. While we don’t know the full story, we do at least have the bones of it, thanks to Jim Moseley. According to what Angelucci told Moseley, a pair of FBI agents visited Angelucci at his Twentynine Palms home, telling him that they had heard of the actions of this East Coast group – from who, though, was something that the FBI was not prepared to reveal. The questions posed to Angelucci were many: How did he first meet the group? Did they give their names? Were they Americans? Did they offer him money to slant his tales down a politically-driven path? The list of questions went on and on.