The Philadelphia Experiment: Project Invisibility

by Charles Berlitz

  involved than there had been time to do it in. AH I had was the points of greatest curvatures right off the ship's beam opposite this equipment. My problem was in trying to orient what Albrecht wanted. Einstein's notes were a good deal clearer than Albrecht's, but I wouldn't have dared tell him so.

  'Now that I think of it,' he reflected, 'it is possible that von Neumann was in the office by accident that day, and that Oswald Veblen [one of Neumann's associates] had brought it down. It is only possible that the NDRC men brought it down themselves. What Albrecht wanted to do was to find out enough to verify the strength of the field and the practical probability of bending light sufficiently to get the desired "mirage" effect. God knows they had no idea what the final results would be. If they had, it would have ended there. But, of course, they didn't.

  'I think the prime movers at this point were the NDRC and someone like Ladenburg or von Neumann who came up with ideas and had no hesitancy in talking about them before doing any computations at all. They talked with Einstein about this and Einstein considered it and took it far enough to figure out the order of magnitude he would need on intensity, and then spoke to von Neumann about what would be the best outfit to look into it as a practical possibility. That's how we got involved in it. I am not exactly certain when the Naval Research Lab came into it, but I do know that Commander Parsons, one of the top Navy scientists, talked quite often to Albrecht, and it is possible that something concerning the use of a ship came up in that way.

  "The only thing I did with this on paper was to put together Albrecht's few scratch equations and make several small tables. Afterwards I can remember a couple of times when expansions on these equations of mine came up in meetings, and so I was able to maintain a certain level of awareness as to what was being done in other circles even though I wasn't involved directly.'

  I said, 'Do you recall what the code name of this project might have been?'

  Rinehart thought a moment in silence. When the answer came, I got the impression again that he was choosing his words carefully. 'You must remember,' he said, 'that Albrecht and Gibbons treated this on a strictly no-copy basis - that is to say, memos in pencil only with no typewritten or carbon copies. I seem to recall once using the term "deflection" in a heading; I can remember that. I can also remember a point a little later when I suggested in a meeting of some sort that an easier way to make a ship vanish was a light air blanket, and I wondered why such a fairly complicated theoretical affair was under consideration. Albrecht took off his glasses at that point and commented that the trouble with having me at a conference was that I was good at getting them off the topic. A code name would have had to have been selected by NDRC, and in all probability there was no code name at this point. I don't recall whether I encountered a code name for this project at a later date or not, although somewhere in the back of my mind I seem to want to associate the terms "Rainbow" or "Mirage" with it. Memory is vague and I may be quite a bit off the track with these. I just don't remember.

  'I do remember being at at least one other conference where this matter was a topic on the agenda. During this one we were trying to bring out some of the more obvious - to us - side effects that would -be created by such an experiment. Among these would be a "boiling" of the water, ionization of the surrounding air, and even a "Zeemanizing" of the atoms; all of which would tend to create extremely unsettled conditions. No one at this point had ever considered the possibility of interdimensional effects or mass displacement. Scientists generally thought of such things as belonging more to science fiction than to science in the 1940s. In any event, at some point during all this, I received a strong put-down from Albrecht, who broke in with something to the effect that "Why don't you just leave these experimental people alone so they can go ahead with their project. That's what we have them for!"

  'One of the problems involved was that the ionization created by the field tended to cause an uneven refraction of the light. The original concepts that were brought down to us before the conference were laid out very nicely and neatly, but both Albrecht and Gleason and I warned that according to our calculations the results would not be a steady mirage effect, but rather a "moving back and forth" displacement caused by certain inherent tendencies of the AC field which would tend to create a confused area rather than a complete absence of colour.

  "Confused" may well have been an understatement, but it seemed appropriate at the time. Immediately out beyond this confused area ought to be a shimmering, and far outside ought to be a static field. At any rate, our warning on this, which ultimately went to NDRC, was that all this ought to be taken into account and the whole thing looked at with some care. We also felt that with proper effort some of these problems could be overcome ... and that a resonant frequency could probably be found that would possibly control the visual apparent internal oscillation so that the shimmering would be at a much slower rate—I don't know how far those who were working on this aspect of the problem ever got with it

  'I also remember a couple of meetings later which dealt with this topic, but memory is hazy on details. Another thing I recall strongly is that for a few weeks after the meeting in Albrecht's office we kept getting requests for tables having to do with resonant frequencies of light in optical ranges. These were frequently without explanation attached, but it seems likely that there was some connection here.'

  Rinehart began to look around the room nervously as if perhaps he had said too much, but he plunged on.

  'I keep wanting to place C. M. Allen in a position of having to do with the model experiments. These may have been carried out at the Taylor Model Basin; but then again maybe not, since I'm not sure whether the capabilities to do so existed at this facility yet or not. Some work was most likely conducted at the Anacostia Bay site -which was the same site used for much of the early radar work.'

  'How do you suppose they went about getting a ship to actually try this out on?' I asked. 'Someone somewhere certainly must have stuck his neck out for this thing.' 'That's a good question. I have twice considered suggesting to you that Captain

  Parsons [William S. Parsons, the same man who personally armed the atomic bomb aboard the aircraft Enola Gay before the drop on Hiroshima in 1945] may have played a role in seeing that this project was a "ship experiment" and not merely a

  model experiment_I remember from the conference on a different project in

  1939 that my superiors felt that no one but Parsons could possibly prevail upon the Bureau of Ships to permit a trial of a new instrument on board ship. At that time Captain Parsons was Commander Parsons ... the most notable of Naval Academy graduates with actual standing as a research scientist. He walked into conferences followed by two or three lieutenants whom I remember only faintly—

  'With regard to the merchant ship which you indicated may have been used as an observer ship ... I feel that Admiral Jerry Land, head of the U.S. Maritime Commission, may have been helpful here. He was what you might call the "hard-boiled" type, but was frequently willing to be helpful - especially when the Navy wasn't. There were, for example, numerous instances when we were more successful in prevailing upon the U.S.M.C. to allow us to place experimental equipment on board merchant ships for trials than we were in persuading the Navy to allow us to use their ships.

  'In this particular type of experimental project, I feel certain that Admiral Land was asked and urged to get a ship and crew with which nothing could go wrong. According to a friend of mine, an attempt was made to get a good choice on this so as not to embarrass Admiral Land in front of the Navy. Very possibly, according to my friend, the crew placed aboard this ship consisted of hand-picked sailors, at least some of whom would have been veterans of the Murmansk run and so would have been of the most courageous sort.'

  And so, in essence, ends the bulk of Dr Rinehart's fascinating story - all except for one further bit of information which has purposely been laid aside until a later chapter. Following the interview which produced most of the foregoing ma
terial, Moore continued to maintain contact with him on a more or less regular basis right up to the time of his unexpected death a little more than five months later. Generally these contacts w>ere friendly rather than professional, but occasionally some forgotten bit of information was produced which proved useful or interesting. One such even seems worth repeating here as a sort of postscript.

  The story concerns one of the numerous American scientists of German origin who had worked in Germany before the coming of Hitler, and who had fled to the United States to escape possible persecution. It seems that the War Department was particularly fond of several of these scientists and endeavoured to consult with them on a more or less regular basis to seek out their opinions about the various scientific developments that the Germans were thought to be working on.

  In one of the last letters Moore received from him, Dr Rinehart recalled being at a certain conference where the implications of Unified Field Theory was one of the topics under discussion. The German scientist in question was asked by one of the Navy officers present whether he thought that the Germans might not be working on anything of a similar nature.

  According to Dr Rinehart, the German hesitated only a moment before replying in his heavily inflected but otherwise perfect English that 'the officer' should realize that while American naval scientific personnel might well be appropriately characterized as 'stick-in-the-muds' as far as certain matters might be concerned, it was infinitely better than the Germany navy in others - the case in point as an example. 'Had someone dared to suggest such a project to the German Naval command,' the German scientist went on, 'he would have been politely but firmly reminded that his tune might better be spent thinking about weapons of offence rather than measures of defence against an inferior enemy.'

  All of this tends to reinforce the possibility that there was indeed a project in the works which could easily have, and very possibly did, develop into something of the magnitude of the Philadelphia Experiment.

  But an important and pertinent question remains unanswered : How did Carlos Allende manage to learn sufficient details about these obviously quite complex and highly secret goings-on to enable him to write his series of letters to Dr Jessup?

  Unfortunately the picture puzzle is not quite complete enough to enable us to arrive at a concrete answer regarding this particular point. However, this does not preclude an attempt to make the best guess possible based on the information obtained from Dr Rinehart on the topic.

  As we have shown, there can be no doubt that the man who calls himself Carlos Allende did indeed serve as a seaman aboard the S.S. Andrew Furuseth. Knowing what we do now, it seems almost certain that he did indeed witness at least some of the things he wrote about in his letters. That these events disturbed him greatly is self-evident.

  With this in mind, we can safely conjecture that finding some logical explanation for what he had seen remained foremost in his mind. At least he appears to have made a point of discussing the topic with every person of scientific background that he happened to meet; and since he was wont to seek out these people whenever possible by attending public lectures on scientific topics, he most likely picked up quite a store of knowledge in the process - a sort of self-education in things scientific.

  The bonanza he was looking for came when a chance meeting led to what became a short but highly productive acquaintance with Dr Rinehart, the one man who could fill him in some of the details of the ship experiment that had long troubled his conscious thoughts. Dr Rinehart, while not willing to impart too many details of the affair lest official secrecy be compromised, nonetheless let enough of the cat out of the bag to cause Carlos to worry that ideas which could lead to more of such research might still be lurking in the back of certain military-scientific minds. When Jessup's The Case for the UFO was published not too long thereafter, Allende began to fear that this book might possibly get the ball rolling again.

  The fear turned to sheer horror when, following his discussions with Dr Rinehart and shortly after reading Jessup's book, he happened to attend one of Jessup's public lectures. When during the course of his presentation, Jessup admonished his audience to push for more government funds and government research into the Unified Field Theory, Allende was stunned. It was in such a state of mind that Allende wrote his second letter to Dr Jessup, in which he laid out the facts concerning what he thought he had witnessed during the war and then described the possible consequences of such research in graphic detail. Allende had no way of knowing that his 'friend, Dr Franklin Reno' regularly used a pseudonym which had originally been inspired by a road sign. Nor had he any idea that through his reference to this individual in a letter which he had every reason to assume would remain confidential he was perpetuating the use of an alias which would continue to plague and puzzle researchers for many years to come.

  One thing is certain: Considering the degree of publicity and notoriety that the Allende letters have attained over the years, had Allende ever been able to identify Dr Rinehart by his real name, it is almost certain that the reputation of this scientist would have long since been demolished by the rest of the scientific establishment. He may have also considered the possibility of threats to his privacy or his life.

  Dr Rinehart, however, is not the only person known to have played a part in the planning of the Philadelphia Experiment. Further research has turned up at least one other who not only had a part in the project, but may ultimately have discovered a most intriguing method of putting his knowledge of forcefields to practical use.

  CHAPTER TEN

  THE FORCE FIELDS OF TOWNSEND BROWN

  Might there be any practical applications for energies and force fields of the type reportedly utilized to create invisibility during the Philadelphia Experiment? Could these applications include possible methods of propulsion, of the same type that Morris Jessup suspected was being utilized by whoever or whatever was piloting the UFOs? We can gain insight into these questions by examining the life and career of an obscure but extremely brilliant American physicist and inventor named Thomas Townsend Brown -a man who, like Dr Rinehart, was ultimately destined to play a part in the project which led to the actual experiment itself.

  Born into a prominent Zanesville, Ohio, family in 1905, Townsend Brown displayed an early interest in space travel - a topic considered sheerest fantasy in the days when there were those who looked askance at the Wright brothers' successes. Nonetheless, young Brown retained his interest and enjoyed occupying himself with electronics. It was his youthful toying with the infant ideas of radio and electro magnetism that provided a background which was to prove invaluable to him in later years; and it was during the course of this 'experimenting' that Brown somehow acquired a Coolidge X-ray tube - an item that was to lead him to make a most startling discovery.

  X-rays (or roentgen rays) were indeed mysterious forces in those days (in fact, the American physical chemist William D. Coolidge had only just invented the

  Coolidge tube itself in 1913), and even legitimate science was just beginning to learn anything about them. Brown wasn't interested in X-rays for themselves but he did think that a key to spaceflight might be found there. And towards that end he set up an experiment to determine whether there might be a useful force of some sort exerted by the rays emanating from his Coolidge tube.

  Doing something that no scientist of his day had thought of. Brown mounted his Coolidge tube in extremely delicate balance and began 'testing' for results. He was unable to detect any measurable force exerted by the X-rays regardless of which way he turned his apparatus, but suddenly he became aware of a very strange quality of the tube itself: Every time it was turned on, the tube seemed to exhibit a motion of its own - a 'thrust' of some sort, just as if the apparatus were trying to move! Investigating further, Brown had to spend considerable time and effort before the explanation finally became apparent. This newfound phenomenon had nothing whatsoever to do with the X-rays -it was the high voltage being used to produce the rays which wa
s behind it!

  Brown now undertook a whole new series of experiments designed to determine the exact nature of this new 'force' he had discovered, and after much effort he finally succeeded in developing a device which he optimistically chose to call a 'pravitor.' His invention looked like nothing more than a Bakelite case some 12 inches long and 4 inches square; but when placed on a scale and connected with a 100-kilovolt power source the apparatus proceeded to either gain or lose about 1 percent of its weight, depending on the polarity used.

  Brown was sure he had discovered a new electrical principle, but he did not know just what to do with it. And in spite of the fact that there were a few newspaper accounts of his work, no scientist of any stature expressed any interest in his discovery - not entirely surprising when one considers that Townsend Brown was only then on the verge of graduating from high school.

  In 1922, Brown entered the California Institute of Technology (Caltech) at Pasadena. He spent his first year court-the favour of his professors, among whom was the late physicist and Nobel laureate Dr Robert A. Millikan. However, his success in convincing his instructors of his excellence as a lab man was more than offset by his complete failure to gain even the slightest measure of recognition for his ideas about electrogravity. His teachers, steeped in the rigours of nineteenth-century scientific discipline, steadfastly refused to admit that such a thing could even exist; they were not interested in new or revolutionary concepts.