What do you Make of the “Houston, we have a problem” Film Claiming that a Secret Yugoslavian Space Program was the Source of American Success in the Space Race?

They have got to be kidding! At least that’s what I thought, but apparently not. I received a call from Richard Solash, a reporter with Radio Free Europe about ten days ago to discuss a film being made by Slovene director Ziga Virc and writer Bostjan Virc that alleges that Tito’s Yugoslavia had a secret space program and secretly sold space knowledge to NASA, in the process making Tito rich and making if possible for the U.S. to achieve its Apollo program. Here is a Radio Free Europe news story about it. The filmmakers made a trailer offering the thrust of their argument and it quickly generated quite a lot of buzz in the Balkans. The trailer is here:

It is a fascinating, misleading, and in places highly contentious trailer for what is being billed as a “docudrama.” It claims that in 1960 the CIA discovered a secret Yugoslav space program, one that the United States exploited to win the space race with the Soviet Union, “buying” the whole shebang from Yugoslav strongman Tito in March 1961, not long before President Kennedy’s announcement of an American lunar landing program. The Yugoslavian space effort was based, according to this trailer, on the work of Hermann Noordung, a Slovenian-born artillery officer in the Austrian Army who wrote a book, The Problem of Space Travel, that was published in 1929 not long before his death. When I served as the NASA Chief Historian between 1990 and 2002 the history program had this work translated into English and published in the NASA History Series. It has recently been reprinted with additional prefatory material in an excellent new edition by the Centre of European Space Technologies (KSEVT) in Ljubljana, Slovenia.

JFK

President John F. Kennedy in his historic message to a joint session of the Congress, on May 25, 1961 declared, "...I believe this nation should commit itself to achieving the goal, before this decade is out, of landing a man on the Moon and returning him safely to the Earth." This goal was achieved when astronaut Neil A. Armstrong became the first human to set foot upon the Moon at 10:56 p.m. EDT, July 20, 1969. Shown in the background are, (left) Vice President Lyndon Johnson, and (right) Speaker of the House Sam T. Rayburn.

Those commenting on the assertions made in this film have been highly critical. Viewers of the trailer have referred to it as a “mockumentary,” a “documentary,” and a “fantasy.” Of those three characterizations “documentary” is probably the term least closely related to what is being proposed for this film. William Barry, the current NASA Chief Historian, was kinder than most when he said that “I would be very curious to see if there is any real historical evidence that holds up…” Full disclosure, I was also quoted in the same news story as Bill Barry questioning the assertions made in the film trailer.

Buzz Aldrin

Astronaut Buzz Aldrin, Lunar Module LM pilot, stands beside the Passive Seismic Experiments Package PSEP. The Laser Ranging Retroreflector LRRR, U.S. Flag, television camera and the Apollo Lunar Surface Closeup Camera ALSCC and LM are visible also. Image taken at Tranquility Base during the Apollo 11 Mission.

Since that time there have been many comments back and forth. The film’s principals, Bostjan Virc and Ziga Virc, contacted me by e-mail insisting that “most media misinterpreted our project without asking us anything. Some of them stated it as a real documentary and some of them claimed it’s a spoof or mockumentary. From the first beginning we present it as a docudrama…That means a movie, where the basis is a reality with added dramatisation and some fiction elements.”

As a “documdrama” I’m curious as to whether this proposed film will be something like “The King’s Speech” just recently released that is presumably a true story, but also has some notable fictional elements and at least one gross distortion of the historical record in the position of Winston Churchill on the abdication of Edward VIII from the British throne? Or will it look and feel like a documentary with an announcer narrating events but have fictional elements in it? The meaning of “docudrama” appears to serve as a license to make up whatever might be desired and to include it in the film. Where is the line between fact and fiction in this proposed work? I’ll look forward to seeing what the Vircs come up with.

flag

Geologist-Astronaut Harrison Schmitt, Apollo 17 Lunar Module pilot, is photographed next to the American Flag during extravehicular activity (EVA) of NASA's final lunar landing mission in the Apollo series. The photo was taken at the Taurus-Littrow landing site. The highest part of the flag appears to point toward our planet earth in the distant background.

I will be fascinated to see how this unfolds. I have many questions about the trailer’s arguments. Many of the connections made seem ridiculous at best; disingenuous at worst. As Carl Sagan said, “extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence.” The “post hoc ergo propter hoc” approach to arguments in the trailer are solipsistic and I await the proof to support them. I’m also interested in the filmmaker’s documentation about Hermann Noordung, additional papers he may have, etc. I truly question this story, but I want to hear what others have to say about it. Any thoughts?

Roger Launius is a curator in the Space History Division of the National Air and Space Museum.

When puppets tell the story…

At the National Air and Space Museum, we tell stories in a number of ways — through objects, artwork, lectures, videos, planetarium shows — even puppets. Storytelling through puppetry can be a powerful educational tool for our youngest audiences in particular. Puppets have the ability to bring stories and objects in the Museum to life. Young children are concrete learners; they learn through direct experiences. Using puppets in the Museum is a wonderful way to engage young audiences.

We are thrilled to host a return engagement of  “The Wright Brothers: A Musical Play,” a show using shadow puppets, hand puppets, wide mouth puppets, human arm puppets, and  live actors to bring to life the story of Orville and Wilbur Wright and the world’s first successful, manned, heavier-than-air, self-propelled flying machine.  The show’s creator and founder of Rainbow Puppet Productions, David Messick, has been a professional puppeteer for 35 years. He was inspired by his childhood love for Captain Kangaroo, the Muppets, and musicals.

 

Rainbow Puppet Productions

Using a variety of puppets in combination with live actors, Rainbow Puppet Productions brings to life the story of Orville and Wilbur Wright.

Originally created in 2003 for the 100th anniversary of the Orville and Wilbur Wright’s first flight, the show has undergone revision to add more interaction with the audience. David hopes that the show leaves the audience curious and inspired to learn more. “I always try to work into the script something that is in the Wright Brothers gallery that is not in the show,” says David, “the puppet show gets children thinking, laughing, having a good time — we give them just enough to get them excited to go upstairs and see the real Wright Flyer and the objects that are integral to the Wright brothers’ story.”

Young children today live in a world where aircraft and spacecraft are everywhere. How was David able to take the story of the Wright brothers, who invented the airplane more than 100 years ago, and make it meaningful, and relatable, to young audiences? He recalls “having a dream as a kid, flying, like Peter Pan flying… what a cool feeling that would be. I remembered that feeling of curiosity and wonder. This is the heart of the story. So I created a scene in which Wilbur tells Orville, ‘can you imagine what it would really be like if we could fly like an eagle?’ We even have the puppet leave the stage and soar over the audience.” That curiosity is something that all young children can relate to, and it makes events in history become more real.

 

eagle

Wilbur asks Orville, "Can you imagine what it would really be like if we could fly like an eagle?"

There are many themes in the story of the Wright Brothers that are important life-lessons for young children and adults alike. While the puppet show teaches children the simplified physics of flight through a whimsical song, “Power, Lift, Control,” more than that, the show illustrates the importance of scientific discovery, curiosity, and trying, and retrying, again and again.

 

power, lift, control

The Wright Brothers puppet show teaches three properties of flight through props and whimsical song, "Power, Lift, Control."

Success in anything, from engineering to teaching, comes from testing and retesting whatever it is that you create. David knows this lesson very well, saying that when developing the Wright Brothers puppet show he had to try again and again until he got it right. “At some point” he says, “you have to trust yourself, just like the Wright brothers”.

Come see the show on Saturday, January 28 at two free performances at 11:30 and 1:00.

Lizzie Cammarata is an early childhood program specialist at the Mall Building.

Shedding Light on a Common Problem

If you’ve been to any of the nighttime observing sessions at our Public Observatory, you might have wondered why we mostly view the planets and the Moon. After all, the Observatory houses a professional 16-inch telescope, and several other high-quality portable telescopes; shouldn’t they be able to show us great views of galaxies or nebulas?   They should, and they could, if they were located at what astronomers call a “dark site” — away from the city lights that often outshine the lovely stars of nighttime.

 

Public Observatory

The Observatory at night. Photo credit: National Air and Space Museum, Eric Long

The problem is light pollution. The International Dark-Sky Association (IDA) defines light pollution as “any adverse effect of manmade light.” This includes but isn’t limited to our disappearing view of the Milky Way and the difficulties astronomers experience in making observations of celestial objects. Living things experience many effects as well: nocturnal animal populations are shrinking as they have difficulty finding food and hiding from predators, sea turtle hatchlings can have trouble finding their way to the ocean and die, and migrating birds can be disoriented by lights. Emerging research on the effects on humans indicates several problems associated with disruption of circadian rhythms and melatonin production, not to mention the safety-related dangers that come with poor visibility at night caused by glaring lights. But there are easy solutions: shielding lights to reduce glare, dimming lights to provide the right amount of light, and turning off lights when they’re not needed.

glare

Potential intruder hides in the glare from a “security light.” Photo credit: George Fleenor

When we decided to build the Observatory as a place for the public to gather and do astronomy together, we knew that light pollution would be an issue for us. But in order for it to be a convenient gathering place that people could get to easily, we knew we needed to build it in the city, where the people are. It was an easy decision when we considered what we were trying to do, and so far more than 2,000 visitors have enjoyed our nighttime observing sessions.

And yet we and our visitors long for darker skies and the ability to view fainter stars, galaxies, nebulas. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to be able to look at the majestic arms of the Milky Way from Washington, DC? It won’t happen for us until we have more intelligent and efficient street lighting here in our nation’s capitol and in the surrounding area. One way to work toward this is to collect scientific data that can be shared with decision makers to demonstrate what our current situation is regarding light pollution, how it’s been changing, and its effects.

Since 2006, citizen scientists from around the world have been participating in a program called GLOBE at Night. It’s a worldwide attempt to measure light pollution and see how it varies from place to place and year to year. This year, there are four opportunities to participate: January 14-23 (right now!), February 12-21, March 13-22, and April 11-20. The dates are selected so that the Moon won’t be up in the sky when participants are making observations, because the Moon also brightens the sky and can outshine the stars, especially when it’s near a full moon.

Magnitude

The constellation Orion, as it appears under magnitude 2 (left) and magnitude 4 (right) skies. Photo credit: GLOBE at Night/NOAO

Want to join in? Here’s how it works: Go outside an hour or more after sunset and give your eyes a chance to adjust to the darkness. Find the constellation Orion by looking in the southern sky. GLOBE at Night provides magnitude charts that show what Orion looks like with different amounts of light pollution. Magnitude refers to how bright the stars are, and when you’re talking about light pollution, it describes the faintest stars that can be seen. Determine which magnitude chart looks most like what you see that night and report it online. The reports show up instantly on GLOBE at Night’s interactive map viewer, so you can compare what you see to what people in different places around the world see. On Saturday night, January 14, I reported magnitude 3 skies from the Public Observatory in Washington, DC, and I’d love to know what your skies are like!

 

Moon

The waxing gibbous Moon as we viewed it on December 3, 2011. Photo credit: National Air and Space Museum, Genevieve de Messieres

For now, we mostly stick to visually observing the planets from the Observatory’s perch at the National Air and Space Museum. These objects are bright enough and big enough to observe easily even under light polluted skies, and they aren’t especially sensitive to the unstable air in our area which blurs high-powered views. The Moon fascinates me every time I see it, even when I see it every day. I enjoy observing the planets and looking for subtle changes and details I never noticed before, and I think that many of our visitors wouldn’t disagree. And this past Saturday night, I delighted in a great view of the Orion Nebula, a star-forming region, through our telescopes. But I am hopeful for a future in which we can use our fantastic telescopes to see more of the farther, fainter wonders of our universe from the National Mall in Washington, DC.

Katie Nagy is an astronomy educator at the National Air and Space Museum in Washington, DC.

Sweet Moments in a Sopwith

For those of us who study the very early history of the airplane, the sight and sound of a World War I rotary engine running is a thrill that leaves a lasting impression.  To fly in a rotary powered World War I airplane is a transformative experience.  A few weeks ago I was transformed.  I had the opportunity to fly in a Sopwith 1 ½ Strutter, a First World War British two-seater, powered by an original Gnome rotary engine.  I’m still giddy over having flown a rotary engine powered airplane, and everyone at the Museum is jealous, including our Director, General Dailey, one of the most experienced pilots I know.

 

Peter and Sopwith

Peter Jakab about to make his dream flight in a WWI Sopwith 1 ½ Strutter.

 

The rotary aircraft engine was an imaginative design that emerged just after the birth of flight, was the power plant for many of the most famous aircraft in the pioneer era through World War I, and was obsolete by 1920.   Most engines, be they in-line, V-arrangement, or radial (cylinders in star orientation around the crankcase) have a rotating crankshaft to which the pistons are connected that transform the combustion of fuel and air into mechanical output, which in turn spins the propeller.  With a rotary engine, the design concept was reversed.  The crankshaft was stationary, attached to the airframe, and the rest of the entire engine, propeller attached, spun.  The design had two principal advantages.  First, the spinning cylinders provided excellent cooling to the engine.  Second, the rotary configuration offered a good power output to weight ratio.  These early power plants produced relatively low horsepower, so weight was a critical factor in the overall performance of the engine.  The rotaries had major drawbacks, such as the shedding of cylinders from the spinning engine and a tendency to catch fire.  But in the early days of aviation these hazards were outweighed by the relatively good power output for the engine’s weight.  By the 1920s, equal and better performance was achieved with stationary cylinder engines and the rotary quickly disappeared from the scene.

 

Gnome Rotary Engine

Gnome 9N Rotary, 160 horsepower

The rotary engine was an interesting technological design, but it has acquired an interesting cultural status among those drawn to the early years of flight as well.  It had a unique sound because the engine typically ran at full power or was off, producing a seemingly alarming rhythm to the uninitiated.  Its castor oil lubricant, spewing effusively from the spinning cylinders, produced a distinctive odor.  There was the pronounced torque of the whirling engine and propeller combination affecting the stability of the airplane.  All these characteristics, unique to the short-lived rotary engine, made it famous, and are coveted to experience by any modern enthusiast of World War I aviation.  Today, there are few places where these near-century old engines come to life.  There are a handful of flying aircraft museums that occasionally fly airplanes with rotaries for the public, and there is a small number of private vintage aircraft owners who take to the air behind these amazing engines.  I was fortunate to grow up not far from one these special settings where rotary powered airplanes regularly flew—the Old Rhinebeck Aerodrome Museum near Poughkeepsie, New York.  Beginning as a teenager in the 1970s, I would frequent the Aerodrome often to watch the air shows and talk with the pilots.  It was where my love of early aviation took hold.  Over the years, no matter how many times I saw, heard, and yes, smelled, the rotary engines flying up at Old Rhinebeck, I was always captivated.  Since that time, one of the experiences at the very top of my curatorial bucket list has been to fly in a rotary engine powered World War I airplane.  This past December, after nearly three decades of curating the early history of the airplane at the National Air and Space Museum, I was fortunate and privileged to have crossed this off my list.

 

Peter in Sopwith

The WWI pilots just back from a successful mission.

A supporter and great friend to the Museum, who has a personal collection of more than two dozen flying World War I airplanes, invited me to his home and private airfield to treat me to a flying experience of a lifetime.  He knew of my longtime desire to fly in one of these airplanes that I have so passionately studied, and we talked about doing it for a couple of years.  In December, the circumstances were right, the weather was good, and the opportunity finally arrived.  Most of the aircraft in his collection are reproduction airframes, but nearly all have original World War I engines.  Lucky for me, one of these airplanes is a two-seater—a Sopwith 1 ½ Strutter.  On a crisp and clear Sunday morning, we pulled up to the airfield.  There, sitting out on the grass strip, with no evidence of the 21st century in sight, just like it was 1916, was the airplane ready to be propped.  After donning the traditional leather flying helmet and goggles we climbed into the Sopwith, and then the moment came.  The Gnome rotary roared to life.  After a brief taxi to get into take-off position, the engine was brought to full power and in just a short distance we were airborne.  My host circled around the field a few times and then he signaled it was my turn at the controls.  I couldn’t believe it.  Here I was actually flying a World War I rotary engine powered biplane.  The sound, the feel of the controls, the open cockpit—all the things I had read about and studied were now part of my personal experience.  After a few more minutes of pure flying joy, we landed.  Out of the airplane we discussed our “mission” as pilots always do, with smiles on our faces.  It was a truly remarkable experience for me.  The next time I lecture at the Museum about World War I flying, more so than ever before, I will feel confident that I know what I am talking about.  I’ve done it.

Peter Jakab is associate director and curator of early flight at the National Air and Space Museum.

Hollywood’s Representation of Naval Aviation: Frank W. “Spig” Wead and John Ford’s “The Wings of Eagles” (1957)

Introduction

During the recently completed centennial of naval aviation (2011), there were many and varied tributes to the factual history of naval aviation. Nevertheless, we cannot forget that public perception of the armed forces is also a strong historical consideration. In Sailing on the Silver Screen: Hollywood and the U.S. Navy, Lawrence Suid has observed that “for most of the past ninety years the American film industry and the U.S. Navy have worked together to their mutual benefit. Hollywood used the Navy to obtain—at little or no cost—personnel, equipment, and locations for movies filled with adventure, romance, and drama. In turn, the Navy obtained—at little or no cost—a positive public image that boosted both its recruiting efforts and its relations with Congress.” This is especially true if we consider how the careers of two pioneers of Hollywood and the U.S. Navy—director John Ford and screenwriter Frank W. “Spig” Wead became intertwined during the Golden Era of filmmaking and how Ford paid tribute to his friend and colleague in The Wings of Eagles (1957).

 

Frank Wead

Frank W. “Spig”’ Wead was a pioneer naval aviator who became a notable Hollywood screenwriter. His many credits include films about the U.S Navy or naval aviation.

Wead’s Early Naval Career

Wead was born on October 24, 1885, in Peoria, Illinois. He entered the U.S. Naval Academy in 1912 at the age of sixteen and graduated in 1916. He spent time during WWI doing mine work in the North Sea, after which he qualified as a naval aviator. In 1923 he led the Navy team that competed in the Schneider Trophy Race at Cowes, Isle of Wight. Two of his teammates—Lt. David Rittenhouse and Lt. Rutledge Irvine—placed first and second in the race. Wead continued as a naval aviator, setting naval aircraft records for speed, endurance, and distance and eventually working for the Navy’s Bureau of Aeronautics.

 

Wead’s Hollywood Career

In 1927, an unexpected turn of events changed Wead’s life forever. After he took a fall in his house in Coronado, California, he was seriously injured, having fractured the fifth cervical vertebra in his neck and doing irreparable damage to his spinal cord. After surgery and more than two painful years of recuperation, he progressed to being able to sit up, and, with the aid of steel braces, to walk. Wead decided that he needed another activity to recuperate fully, so he tried his hand at writing. In time he collaborated on a script for The Flying Fleet (1929), the first Hollywood film about contemporary military flying, with Byron Morgan, a former naval aviator who had become a screenwriter for MGM (Metro Goldwyn Mayer). The Flying Fleet was also the first in a long list of films credited to Wead that were about the U.S. Navy or naval aviation. Wead also wrote screenplays about civil aviation, including one for Air Mail (1932), a film directed by John Ford, and Ceiling Zero (1936), a film directed by Howard Hawks that was based on a play Wead had written that appeared off-Broadway in 1935. He again worked with Ford on They Were Expendable (1945), based on the true story of Motor Torpedo Boat Squadron 3, commanded by Medal of Honor winner John D. Bulkeley during the evacuation of the Philippines early in WWII. This film is considered one of the best war films ever made..

 

Wead’s World War II Service

After the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, Wead had gotten permission to reenter the Navy through the good graces of an old friend, Admiral John Towers. His first assignment was as an assistant to Captain Ralph Davison, chief of the Plans Division of the Bureau of Aeronautics. Later, Wead trained air combat intelligence officers at Quonset Point, Rhode Island. From October 1943 to June 1944, he was a planning officer on the staff of the Commander Air Pacific in Hawaii. In this capacity, he helped develop plans for Makin, Tarawa, Eniwetok, and Kwajelein. All these operations led up to the battle for the Marianas Islands.

Wead was also credited with developing the idea of escort carriers (the so-called “Jeep Carriers”), which were employed to provide logistical support for the main carrier forces. During the Marianas air assaults, he was invited onboard the U.S.S. Yorktown by Admiral J. J. Clark as an observer. He was involved in actual combat during the Marianas battle when Japanese aircraft attacked the ship. Despite his disabilities, Wead showed courage and was an inspiration to the crew. After the Marianas, Wead decided to retire from the Navy and return to screenwriting. For his service during WWII, Wead was awarded the Legion of Merit. He died on November 15, 1947 at the age of 52

The Wings of Eagles (1957)

The idea for The Wings of Eagles came about as a way of honoring Wead, but John Ford, the film’s intended director was somewhat reluctant to undertake the project. He and Wead had been close friends. According to Ford’s biographer, Joseph McBride, Ford is reported to have said “I didn’t want to do the picture, because Spig was a great pal of mine. But I didn’t want anyone else to do it.”

That Ford would become involved in a film honoring Wead and the U.S. Navy should come as no surprise. Ford himself became a naval officer quite late in his life. In 1934 he had enlisted in the U.S. Navy Reserve and was commissioned as a Lt. Commander. In 1939 Ford began to organize the Naval Volunteer Photographic Unit, which eventually became known as the Naval Photographic Organization, to document naval combat activities. In September 1941 Ford was appointed chief of the Field Photographic Branch, which was part of the Office of Strategic Services, headed by William J. Donovan. In that capacity Ford was at the Battle of Midway, which he filmed and whose footage he turned into an Academy Award-winning documentary of the same name in 1942.

Two unsuccessful attempts were made to produce a film about Wead. Finally, Kenneth MacKenna, a story director at MGM, and John Dale Price, Wead’s old friend, now a retired admiral, who eventually became technical advisor for the film, collaborated on a script. After nearly eight months of work, MacKenna submitted the script to the Pentagon for approval, and the Navy’s Office of Information agreed to cooperate, despite some opposition on the grounds that the script contained historical errors.

While the film, which starred John Wayne as Wead, and Maureen O’Hara as his wife “Min,” portrays naval aviation history in a favorable light, it cannot be considered entirely historically accurate, confirming the Navy’s reservations. In addition to historical inaccuracies, some of the Navy’s objections were based on the portrayal of alcohol abuse in the film. Evidently, the drinking scenes that had to do with Maureen O’Hara’s character had to be cut because Wead’s children protested. Nevertheless, the film provides more than subtle hints that alcohol played a significant part in Wead’s life and in the life of his wife, and that it may have been responsible for their inability to reconcile the demands of military life with the demands of family.

 

co-stars of The Wings of Eagles

The co-stars of "The Wings of Eagles," John Wayne and Maureen O’Hara are pictured. The film, a tribute to the naval aviation and Hollywood screenwriting career of Frank “Spig” Wead, was directed by John Ford in 1957.

Evidently it was not practical for Ford to portray Wead’s contributions as a screenwriter to positive depictions of naval aviation in prewar films like Dive Bomber (released in August 1941 before the attack on Pearl Harbor). Instead, he relied heavily on a part-fiction, part-fact portrayal of Wead’s military contributions during the interwar years and in WWII. In fact, Wead’s achievements in WWII are much more factually presented in the film than those that take place during the interwar years. Ford’s message is strong: Wead was not only a staunch defender of naval aviation, but a doer, in spite of his debilitating handicap. Moreover, it is important to realize that The Wings of Eagles is significant also for what it says about American values as seen through the lives and ordeals of military men. The Wings of Eagles, like some of Ford’s other films, displays familiar Fordian themes: the sense of community among American naval men: in this case, naval aviators; naval service as a reflection of national identity; an intermingling of historical fact with historical fancy.

 

Dive Bomber

Errol Flynn (center), the star of "Dive Bomber," a 1941 film written by Frank W. “Spig Wead, poses in a pressure suit with members of the cast and film crew.

Nevertheless, the film may be interpreted on other levels. Dan Ford, Ford’s grandson, contends that the film is a veiled autobiography of his grandfather. Both Wead and Ford were restless and disposed to lives of action. Because they were both disabled, they were attracted to vicarious adventures. Both were involved in moviemaking as a substitute for military careers. Both served in WWII but as observers rather than as combatants. Both neglected their families to focus exclusively on their careers. Both preferred masculine companionship to that of women.

As a result, The Wings of Eagles may be seen as two films. One contains the mythologizing biography of “Spig” Wead and extols naval aviation and American values of patriotism, courage and perseverance. The other, a more personal one, critiques the institution—the U.S. Navy— that would create an atmosphere which is potentially dangerous to family life.

Dominick A. Pisano is a curator in the Aeronautics Division of the National Air and Space Museum.