The Stargate Chronicles: Memoirs of a Psychic Spy

by Joseph McMoneagle

  I strongly recommended that participants "have no expectations other than to be 'open minded' about the process," that they "give and participate 100 percent," and "enjoy the experience more as a fun or human thing to do, versus work oriented." I recommended they "dress in shorts and tee shirt, and carry along a bathing suit." I also reported, "Fasting during the seminar, or conscious control of the amount of food intake has been known to enhance the experience." I suggested they "prepare to spend free time in a physical exercise (e.g., jogging, swimming, hiking, etc.). This will assist in 'grounding' the participant, which in turn greatly enhances the experience."

  Lastly, I warned the general, "Not all of the people residing on the property or those who frequent or visit the center as guests are friendly to the U.S. government or Army. Some can be particularly caustic with regard toward 'intelligence' type personnel involvement with M.I.A.S. During my most recent visit it was clearly established by personnel (other than M.I.A.S. employees) that they were very much aware that U.S. Army, specifically U.S. Army intelligence, personnel were coming to attend a seminar."

  The command responded positively, sending a message to INSCOM commanders throughout the world notifying them of the initiation of the RAPT program and recommending that the local commanders personally interview applicants who wanted to participate, and use the interview to determine acceptability based on the following areas of concern: the person's "ability to approach new technology with an open mind, ability to objectify and evaluate complete new methods of thinking presented, ability to suggest applications based on new methods within an INSCOM operational framework, ability to apply newly learned skills in a personal/professional scenario, and ability to construct testing/evaluation procedures to determine the effects of the new technology." During interviews, commanders were requested "to stress that RAPT is strictly a voluntary training program, which may be declined without prejudice."

  As a result of the message, headquarters was swamped with requests, and the word spread to the Office of the ACSI—where it was badly received. They had already gotten rumors and comments regarding General Stubblebine's spoon-bending parties, and this was like icing on the cake. People I knew who worked in the ACSI office called me. They were concerned about the direction in which the general was driving INSCOM and his vision, and they were even more concerned about the direct involvement of personnel from the Grill Flame unit within that context. (I went to a lot of trouble to meet with the general in private and passed on those concerns, advising that continuing to pursue his course of action could result in a personal penalty or some negative recourse from the ACSI himself.)

  The first two RAPT programs were filled to capacity. Participants included the INSCOM commander; a couple of Army senior staff-level chaplains; senior commanders from Hawaii, Panama, Germany, Okinawa; the command psychologist; INSCOM chief of staff; field operations people; counterintelligence agents; Special Action's Branch members; and even a commander from outside INSCOM. Comments on the effectiveness of the program and people's feelings toward it ranged from "I don't get it" to "absolutely outstanding." No negative comments were filed.

  The third RAPT program created a problem.

  The Institute requires that anyone wishing to attend their programs fill out a questionnaire that details his or her history, with specific emphasis on the medical, emotional, and mental. The reasons for this are apparent. The program is intense and it's felt that someone with difficulty in any of these areas could be affected adversely. People are sometimes asked for approval from their doctor before they are accepted to a program. Until the third RAPT program, of thousands of participants only a few had had problems, which were not serious. In those cases, people had not filled out the questionnaire honestly—omitting salient facts.

  From the outset, INSCOM was not willing to share the personal information contained within this questionnaire, which is understandable, given the nature of their employees. An agreement was made in writing that the INSCOM staff psychologist would interview the possible attendees and certify that they met the requirements and were not at risk. This he did.

  But when the third RAPT group was organized, one of the attendees had to withdraw the day before departure as a result of illness in his family. That man was in turn replaced by a man who wasn't properly interviewed. He had also omitted certain facts about his background when he had entered the Army, which of course had never been entered into his record. This resulted in an incident during the program that required the man be removed and taken to Walter Reed Medical Center for treatment. The man was not institutionalized as has been rumored. He was simply shaken by some of his experiences in the seminar and unable to cope with the results. He later returned to duty with no long-lasting or ill effects. Even though it was later discovered that the man had been withholding information that was pertinent, it still resulted in the RAPT program being terminated by order of the ACSI himself. Back then, it was an unfair judgment call in the eyes of some, but probably a rational one given the political climate of the time.

  The incident could have been worse. The professionalism of TMI employees prevented it from escalating—specifically Nancy Honeycutt, the Institute's director, who brought the situation under control, and Bill Schul, a professional clinical psychologist and one of the program trainers.

  In spite of those facts, a lot of negative blowback came down on the Institute. The military initially refused to pay the Institute for the final RAPT program, a situation that I found both deplorable and unacceptable, and one I personally brought to the attention of the INSCOM chief of staff, who then approved payment.

  Our project's unavoidable involvement resulted in negative consequences in the Grill Flame project that further separated us from our peers at INSCOM, and within the Army intelligence community—an unfair knee-jerk reaction based purely on fear of the unknown.

  Chapter Eleven

  End of the Line

  At this time Peggy and I finally reached our personal Waterloo. I was totally exhausted, so I decided to submit my retirement papers at the twenty-year mark instead of going for thirty. When I first brought this up to her, she seemed to be inordinately pleased. What I didn't know was that she saw this as a way of getting me away from the project, away from my involvement with TMI (or at least their influence), and starting all over again. Only, in her mind this meant I would be quitting the Army and moving to St. Louis, Missouri, where all of her family lived—three sisters, her single mother, and single grandmother.

  This was not something I was contemplating at all. I had already decided to build my retirement home on the piece of land I was paying for in the Blue Ridge Mountains.

  Peggy and I were sitting at dinner about a week after this initial argument when she began telling me how excited she was that we'd be moving to St. Louis and that she could finally be close to her family.

  "What about my family?" I asked.

  What started as a calm and warm conversation quickly turned to an exchange of tar-covered, flaming spitballs. We set the dining area on fire, and half the house, as we raged at one another, moving from room to room. There was no way I was going to move to St. Louis, and there was no way she was going to move anywhere else.

  I lay awake all that night, thinking about the arguments and the anger in our lives and realized that I had really been remiss in taking responsibility for my actions. In reality, I had been keeping silent for years when I probably shouldn't have, in an attempt to preserve a marriage that probably should not have occurred in the first place. It wasn't that I didn't love Peggy. I had always loved her. She surely didn't deserve the treatment I had been giving her. But I was doing everything I possibly could in an unconscious attempt to "not fail" at my second marriage. I now realized that I had been hurt so badly by the first failure, I was doing whatever it took to maintain the second just to prove I was not a failure. In fact, I was driving both her and me insane. To continue with such folly was stupid. I would have to take responsibility for a
ll the bad times that I had put her through, and be honest with myself. It just wasn't working. I'd have to take the hits, whatever pain it would cause, and be up front with her.

  The following day, I told her what I had been thinking, and said that it would only be to both our detriments to continue the relationship. I felt we should separate and file for divorce. At first she tried to argue with me about it, then she went into an even greater rage. But, in the end, I think she understood that it just wasn't working out for either one of us. I told her she could take anything she wanted, her pick of the cars, and whatever settlement she decided on would be fine. Within the week, we both went to the judge advocate general's office on base to fill out the paperwork. She got the Army lawyer; I got the Marine (hoorah); and we amicably parted company.

  In hindsight, the first couple of years I was married to Peggy were absolutely bliss-filled. She was and still is a lovely lady. Her Irish temper and wonderful wit I suppose she inherited from her grandmother. All of her family were always very gracious to me and are good people. The last five years should never have happened. I put her through a miserable time and take full responsibility for it. I was too proud to let go of the idea that I must not fail at marriage again. We both suffered the consequences.

  Remote viewing was beginning to take its toll. I had grown a beard and was becoming more and more of a recluse, staying to my little cubical except when I needed to cross the street for an RV mission.

  I received a call from the chief warrant at Branch, CW3 Mooney, who stated officially that my competitive status for promotion was dead in the water. In his words, because selection was based solely on performance (that is for warrant officers—within their MOS), and that it was judged by the content of the filed officer evaluation review (OER) forms—forms which reflected that I had been out of MOS for an extended period of time, I was no longer competitive.

  He also noted that use of a warrant officer out of primary MOS was in direct contravention with Army Regulation 611-112, paragraphs 17d and e, and based on that fact, I was to be immediately reassigned by the Department of the Army. Furthermore, a formal congressional complaint had been filed by one of my peers, CW2 Gary M. Bosch, naming me specifically as the reason he was being sent to Korea on hardship assignment, while I had been residing in some easy-duty stateside assignment for more than sixty months. He further advised that any request by me for a school would be rejected, any further officer evaluation form that showed me out of MOS would be rejected and returned, and my track record was not redeemable.

  As a result, I was immediately moved by the commander INSCOM into the Military Intelligence Excepted Career Program (Nickname: GREAT SKILL). In essence, I vanished from the Department of the Army. My future officer evaluation forms were filled out by the colonel I worked for, endorsed by the assistant deputy chief of staff for operations—human intelligence, and from that point on only seen by a file clerk.

  While I can't talk about the specific remote viewing that I was doing during this time, some of the statements within my OER forms reflect the level of mission I was participating in. All of my OER forms filed while assigned to the project were maximum OERs. In other words, I couldn't score any higher than I did. Some examples of statements taken from these OERs are:

  "Chief Warrant Officer McMoneagle has provided direct support to six major intelligence collection projects controlled by Army and National intelligence agencies. The resulting intelligence, unavailable from any other intelligence source, was determined accurate and of highest value. In addition to these operational requirements, he installed the first fully automated information system replacing a time-consuming manual procedure. He designed and installed all of the operational software, initiated personnel training and performed all the duties as the 'sole' system administrator. As a result of his efforts the administration burden of processing intelligence reports has been reduced by more than fifty percent.

  "[He] directly participated in collection missions against 213 areas of interest to United States intelligence agencies. Collection of the above intelligence resulted in a substantial number of product reports, resulting in valuable information being provided to the highest levels of the government.

  "[He] has been directly involved in the collection of information against 21 separate targets of high interest to U.S. intelligence agencies. The reports submitted due largely to CW2 McMoneagle's efforts have resulted in valuable information being provided to the highest levels of the government."

  My senior rater comments are pertinent to the previous comments by the Branch warrant who, at the time, really wanted to see me thrown out of his Army.

  "CW2 McMoneagle is a topnotch professional. He has performed in an outstanding manner in a very sensitive intelligence project. He is a prize for the Army. He has the administrative, management, and leadership ability to handle tough jobs at the highest levels of government. His potential far exceeds the narrow aspects of military intelligence operations. He can handle several actions simultaneously and would fit well into fast moving, demanding positions where the Army's best warrant officers are needed. Select for advanced schooling; promote to CW3 ahead of his contemporaries."

  In another: "[He] continually demonstrates extraordinary ability to absorb and explain very complex problems and concepts. He is self-motivated, motivates others by example. Thrives under pressure. Always ready to assume additional responsibilities. His integrity and moral courage are above reproach. Not a yes man."

  To this, I would add the following statement by the CIA Public Affairs Office, on remote viewing, which is dated September 6, 1995, 05:38 P.M.:

  As mandated by Congress, CIA is reviewing available information and past research programs concerning parapsychological phenomena, mainly "remote viewing," to determine whether they might have any utility for intelligence collection.

  –CIA sponsored research on this subject in the 1970s.

  –At that time, the program—always considered speculative

  and controversial—was determined to be unpromising.

  –CIA is also in the process of declassifying the program's history.

  We expect to complete the current review this autumn and to make a recommendation regarding any future work by the U.S. Intelligence Community in this area.

  The report they reference that eventually came out was the American Institutes for Research (AIR) report, which I address later on in this book as a separate issue.

  The whole point of the above is to convey the fact that while effective remote viewing was taking place, and was being reflected in my personal OER forms, it was disappearing into a black hole. Army intelligence, and nearly all other intelligence agencies in the American government, was having not only the cake, but the ice cream also, and no one was picking up the tab.

  Captains Tom McNear and Robert Cowart, who had arrived in August of 1981, had been in training every other two weeks at SRI for nearly eighteen months. But they were still just shy of completing the first two stages of a six-stage training system. (To be exact, a portion of their training period, about four months, shouldn't be counted. We were forced to stand down for that period as a result of a congressionally directed hiatus. This was in part because of the knee-jerk reaction to the incident at The Monroe Institute.)

  Tom's initial examples of RV at SRI showed high promise, but Robert was beginning to suffer from a bad back, not too unlike the discomfort Hartleigh had been dealing with before his death. In fact, I believe there was some overlay between Hartleigh's departure and subsequent death and Robert and Tom's arrival. I remember them as knowing one another.

  Robert's pain eventually reached a point where he was hospitalized and they discovered that he had a cancerous tumor running along his spine. At almost the same time, our long-time secretary, Gemma Foreman, discovered that she also had cancer. Both began treatments about the same time.

  The operation that removed the tumor from Robert's back resulted in some paralysis in his legs. He stuck
it out with the project as long as he could, but was eventually medically discharged and left the area, permanently riding in a wheelchair. Gemma also died quite soon afterward.

  As we neared the middle of 1983, things were not looking good in terms of replacement viewers. Tom seemed to be coming along well with Ingo's training, but it was taking too long and he wasn't yet operational. I had become a nonentity within the Army, although those using me didn't view me that way—at least, not judging by the levels of tasking that was being thrust on us. The numbers of agencies were increasing, as well as the numbers of problems.

  One thing I did to alleviate some of the pressure was to bring automation into the project, as cited in one of my OERs, noted previously. Up until this time, we were doing everything by hand, with carbon paper or copiers. Because I had been one of the first to design and use automated systems to drive both intelligence collection systems and perform analysis, I wrote a feasibility paper suggesting that installing a fully automated support system would relieve much of the office burden and create an essential background database for remote viewing information, analysis, and for cross-tracking results, remote viewers, and intelligence content. I felt this would prove to be invaluable from a historical standpoint.

  My paper was received positively and I was authorized by the head of Human Intelligence Collection to draw the funds to buy the equipment. I bought the latest and most versatile WANG system available at that time. It was terribly expensive. It had fully removable stacked hard disk drives, which could be secured in a safe, and once removed, left nothing resident within the system. The system could be programmed using COBOL, with subroutines in BASIC and math subroutines in FORTRAN IV, the languages I was familiar with at the time. Since I was the only one in the office who had ever seen a computer up close, I also had to deal with writing out the standards for operating it and entering and extracting data. (This helped me adjust to my world, which was growing smaller and smaller. I was now only allowed to converse with Fred during RV operations, and the new boss, Lieutenant Colonel Bee.)