Area 51_ An Uncensored History of America's Top Secret Military Base - Annie Jacobsen [68]
What kind of cleanup went on at Area 51 before the arrival of Lockheed’s radar cross-section crew remains unknown. Twelve months had passed since the last atomic bomb had been exploded next door; it was code-named Titania, like the mischievous queen of the fairies from Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream. If there was a formal decontamination of Area 51 or a summation of what the radiation levels were and whether it was safe to return, those details remain classified. As it was, the radar test system Lockheed set up was only temporary. The CIA did not yet have presidential approval to proceed with the A-12. “I had no more than 50 people on the project,” Johnson wrote in a document called History of the Oxcart by the Builder, declassified in 2007. The small group of Skunk Workers bunked down in the Quonset huts where the U-2 pilots and engineers had once lived.
Beginning in the fall of 1959, a Lockheed C-47 shuttled engineers and mechanics from Burbank to Area 51 on Monday mornings and returned them home to their families late Friday afternoons. It was Ed Lovick’s first experience working at what he’d been told was Paradise Ranch. Because of Lovick’s key role in this phase of the project, he was transported in a Lockheed twin-engine Cessna, usually alone with the pilot. He disliked the commute because the fumes from the Cessna made him queasy. But once he arrived and deplaned he would lose himself in the intensity of the radar work going on. In Burbank, in the silence of the anechoic chamber, Lovick had been testing airplane models the size of his shoe. This full-size mock-up would reveal the results of two years’ worth of chamber work. “The only way to get accurate information of how a full-size aircraft would perform in radar testing was to subject the full size mock-up of the A-12 to radar beams,” Lovick explains.
At the edge of the dry lake bed, scientists mounted the airplane on the fifty-five-foot-high pole, centered in a concrete pad that would rise up and down from an underground chamber in the desert floor. “A control room was located underground to one side of the pad. An anemometer and a wind-direction weather vane were located near the edge of the pad, away from the line of sight,” Lovick recalls. The radar antennas, manned and monitored by EG&G, were located a mile away from the pole. “The nose of the mock-up would be tipped down so the radar would see the airplane’s belly, the same way that Soviet radar would see it. It was an elaborate and time-consuming process,” Lovick recalls. “The mock-up that was tested on the pole had to be housed in a hangar on the base at least a mile away. It was carried out and back on special carts.”
In late 1959, the CIA did not know how far the Soviets had advanced their satellite technology—whether they were capable of taking photographs from space yet. The CIA’s espionage concerns further complicated the radar work at Area 51. Each member of Lovick’s crew carried in his pocket a small chart indicating Soviet satellite schedules. This often meant working odd hours, including at night. “It also made for a lot of technicians running around,” Lovick explains. “Satellites passed overhead often. Getting an aircraft up on the radar test pole took eighteen minutes. It took another eighteen minutes to get it back down. That left only a set amount of time to shoot radar at it and take data recordings.” As soon as technicians were done, they took the aircraft down and whisked it away into its hangar.