FOR YOUR INFORMATION (Continued)

CASE A-5: RT married, a former Marine, rank PFC, assigned to Canine Corps at Camp Pendleton, San Diego, California, with Alpha Red TS Crypto Clearance. Served 6 years in Vietnam. Resident of Las Vegas, Nevada.

In this first person report RT alleges he was at a UFO retrieval site in 1967. Following RT's disclosures to me in July 1980, supported by data from APRO records of his phone calls to that office, is a weird unfolding drama of harassment and violence, a strange visit and the grim consequences which allegedly befell one of its on-the-spot investigators, RC, also of Las Vegas.
Through RC, my intermediary, and formerly a US Narcotics agent, I reached RT by phone. According to RT's testimony, he was given 45 minutes notice before departure by plane from Camp Pendleton to a retrieval site "somewhere in the desert" on July 3, 1967.

As a trainer in the Canine Corps at his base, he and his dogs, and other marines as a team, were flown in a light cargo transport for 2 1/2 hours to the site, landing on a makeshift strip carved out by a road grader. The windows of the transport were blacked out, he said. At the site, among the cactus and tumbleweeds, were tents, a small Quonset hut and what appeared to be a small pre-fab hangar. Busy were men in military fatigues without insignia. Told nothing about the status of the operation, he was assigned to a post for guard duty, given orders, and told to use only one designated path to the mess tent and latrine.

Curious, said RT, he decided on his fourth day to see what was so hush-hush and took a different route to the mess tent near the hangar. When the guard had his back turned he peeked inside the hangar and to his shock he saw a metallic disc, or saucer, about 30 ft. in diameter. On top was a dome; there were no windows. Around the craft wre men at work and tables on which were technical instruments. He also saw a large walk-in refrigerator unit on skids and several empty body bags. "If there were bodies," he said, "they had already been shipped out or maybe they were in the freezer."

RT's one good glimpse into the hangar was also his undoing. The guard nearby nabbed him and he was escorted to the headquarters tent where he face the office in command, Colonel "O" (name on file), USAF Medical Corps. Reminded of his Security Oath, he was confined to quarters and sent back to Pendleton for punishment.

Thirteen years later, RT decided to tell his story. He admitted to seeing the movie, "Hangar 18," knew it was fiction, but he said, its emotional impact on him conjured up in his mind the hangar in the desert which he knew was not fiction. He first told his story to Wendelle Stevens and RC. Then like the day he went down the wrong path at the retrieval site, he got into a new hornet's nest of trouble.

According to APRO's records, RT called in to their office to report each incident of harassment starting July 24, 1980.

On July 24, 1980, RT claimed he was visited by an Intelligence agent who reminded him of his Security Oath. On July 21, 1980, RT claimed that his apartment was pillaged, maps and all UFO memorabilia taken. Called police. On July 22, 1980, visitor came to apartment with threats. RT excused himself to the bedroom, got a 45 cal. gun, forced the intruder to show ID at gun point, and prformed a "citizen's arrest." He called police, the intruder was "booked;;" also the man waiting in the limousine outside. The police checked the intruders' credentials and released them. On July 28, 1980, RT called to relate that he was visited by a person dressed in black, offering to exchange UFO information. This was the last call made by RT to APRO, according to available records.

During the period of RT's contact with APRO, I was receiving similar information, by phone from my intermediary, RC. Needless to say, I had difficulty in digesting the adventures of his source. Then, on August 11, 1980, it was arranged for me to reach RT to discuss, firsthand, the events of the past month. Hearing it from RT, the story seemed less fanciful, or less contrived. When I asked about the intruder's ID, he said "CIA."

The story told by RT about his visitor, a man dressed in black, might have been penned by Poe. During the stranger's 45 minute unannounced visit, RT's dog, a shepherd, behaved uneasily. Once, said RT, he asked for a glass of water, but when he was approached, he uttered, "Don't touch me." RT also noted that during their conversation about UFOs, the visitor always spoke in the third person, using "we" or "they."

According to RT, the visitor, while describing a UFO incident, suddenly produced from his briefcase a half dozen color photographs. "Each showed a small cadaver or parts, not human, in what appeared to be a hospital operating room," he said. "I would judge they were just about four feet tall if scaled with the tables they were on."

One photo, said RT, was close up of a hand with four fingers, long and slim, with no opposable thumb. "Another," he said, "showed the top of a humanoid head, the flesh cut open and drilled into."

Still another, he related, showed the upper torso of chalky complexion with an incision into its chest, and another, showed a body burned in its suit. "But there was one photo that really convinced me," said RT with emphasis. "It showed three doctors in the process of dissecting a body on top of a slab with a gutter around the edge."

"See any blood?" I asked..... "If there blood is red, there wasn't any," he replied, or words to that affect. "The photos looked real to me," he said, when I asked for his opinion of them.

I called RT the following day, August 12, on a tip from RC who learned that RT and his wife might move form their apartment in the next day or two. He seemed restrained, his words hesitant, but he tried to be courteous.

"Maybe I shouldn't be talking on this subject anymore," he said. He then went on to explain that he was having a "social security number problem" and that it was causing a delay in money to pay the rent.

That was the last word from RT, although he promised to send me his new address. I have since heard from Wendelle Stevens who heard that RT was working for the AEC, had all of his debts paid, and wasn't talking to anybody about UFOs anymore.

But this anecdote doesn't end with RT. Events just as strange allegedly happened to RC, my intermediary who seemed ready and willing and unafraid to move mountains in his probes to get facts for me.

In 1979, RC got my name from a former Cincinnatian, a retired Air Force colonel in Las Vegas, who knew of my research since the mid 1950s. In 1980, RC formed APRON, a local group, and asked for my guidelines and to be its chief consultant. During this period he asked that I call his fiance to convince her that his time was well spent in UFO research. He later told me that my call "really helped" and he was encouraged to keep up his work.

Shortly after the RT disclosures, however, the enthusiasm of RC suddenly dropped to zero. When I called him August 20, 1980, he said grimly, "I've been warned to lay off RT."

Cryptically, without giving me details he said that he was disbanding APRON, getting out of research and planned to move to Texas or Florida and that he would call me from wherever he settled. When I pressed for an explanation he paused, then asked that I call back later. When I did, he said that his fiance's car had been forced off the road in Las Vegas, and that his apartment had been burglarized. "Only things missing," he said, "Were your books, Situation Red, 3-0 Blue and Status Report II, notes I had on the RT case, and you guessed it, a photo of you. Nothing else."

When I called RC on September 9, 1980, he was ready to leave next week for Florida and advised that I not tell anybody. He said he had not received any new threats and he assured me that his fiance was "okay."

On October 10, 1980, RC wrote to me stating that he and his fiance had settled in Pensacola, Florida. In his letter of October 29, 1980, he requested new copies of my books that had been stolen, adding, "I had no problems until I started interviewing RT. I'm OK now." In his letter of December 3, 1980, he acknowledged receipt of the books I sent and said, "My friend CJ, said that he is gong to do some research on the 1953 Kingman (Arizona) incident. Le, he would like to make direct contact with you. He does respect what you're doing." In his typewritten letter, February 19, 1981, RC wrote in part, "I have not heard from my contact yet. However, his wife said that he wanted to talk to me as soon as he got back from Washington... will relate to you all that I get from him."

The next news from RC came as a shock. His fiancee had been killed in a car accident near Singing Sands, Florida. She had been traveling alone, he said, from Pensacola, when a car had apparently forced her off the road, leaving only black paint marks on the side of her car. "It was hit and run," he said.

Months later in 1981, I heard from a mutual research friend of RCs in Las Vegas, that RC had made arrangements to meet three men at an airport concerning UFOs. Since then, silence.