Your Government at Work: Confiscated Gold and Stashed Alien Tech

Today, of all days, we’ll discuss confiscated gold and space alien technology, because both are an ongoing source of public mystery.

Some years ago, in the mid-2000s, I visited the Pentagon to meet with several high-level Air Force officials and staff. We discussed with something mundane, namely aviation fuel and related issues that concern U.S. military supply chains. I had been writing about oil and energy issues, and a friend of a friend referred me to his friend, and…

Well, here’s what happened.

Begin at the Pentagon

There’s an old saying, that amateurs discuss tactics and professionals discuss logistics.

So, there I was on the top floor of the inner ring of the Pentagon, in a wood-paneled conference room with a stunning view of the courtyard. I was across the table from an Assistant Secretary of the Air Force and seated adjacent to a Deputy Assistant. Plus, we had two full-bird colonels, both subject matter experts, and two lieutenant colonels taking notes.

We discussed the U.S. oil complex, from prospects through drill pads, pipelines and downstream refineries. The Air Force people explained their fuel issues and, as the only geologist in the room, I told them things about finding oil and refining it into useful products.

Aerial refueling, key to air power projection. USAF photo.

The idea of our get-together was to learn from each other, and brainstorm industrial and logistic bottlenecks faced by the Air Force. The goal was to help secure future fuel supplies and keep the airplanes gassed up and flying.

At one point, the discussion drifted towards operational matters, and aircraft types the Air Force used on various missions. And one of the colonels chimed in and said, “Excuse me, sorry. We’re about to get classified here, Byron, and you’re not cleared to go there.”

I nodded affirmatively. Roger that, colonel, because, as an old Navy guy I understood that when they tell you not to touch a particular topic, you don’t touch that topic. That is, stay legal. Let’s not go to jail.

But also, as an old Navy guy, I kind of wanted to push the envelope. So I said, “No, we won’t discuss classified operations here. But really, when you boil it all down, the government only has two real secrets, right?”

Everyone in the room looked at me with a quizzical appearance… And I added, “You know what I mean. About how we’ve recovered all that exotic technology from space aliens, out in Nevada, down in those special caves. And how there’s no gold in Fort Knox.”

The room went totally silent, except for the soft hum of ventilation. Then the Assistant Secretary of the Air Force said, “Wow, you mean there’s really no gold in Fort Knox?”

Yes, we skipped the space aliens and captured tech out in Nevada. And before we returned to the subject of aviation fuel and logistics, we spent a few minutes discussing whether or not there’s still gold in Fort Knox.

The Gold in Fort Knox (or not)

In a quick digression, I explained to the Air Force people what many Americans seem not to know about U.S. history. It’s a story lost to time and generations. That is, in 1933 newly inaugurated President Franklin Roosevelt confiscated the nation’s private gold.

FDR confiscated America’s gold. Courtesy National Archives.

Roosevelt used a World War I-era espionage law to justify an executive order that required everyone to turn in their gold coins, bullion and certificates. And of interest, no federal judge back then issued a restraining order, unlike today with President Trump and everything he wants to do.

In due course, the government melted those confiscated gold coins into 400-ounce bars, which made it slightly harder to steal them.

Then in 1937, the bars found a home in a hastily constructed repository at Fort Knox, Kentucky.

Fort Knox Gold Depository. Courtesy U.S. Mint.

Later, during World War II, Fort Knox also became home to quite a bit of British gold from the Bank of England, as well as gold from India and South Africa. And Fort Knox also even housed gold from the Soviet Union.

That part about “no gold in Fort Knox” has to do with the lack of an audit trail over the years. Is there gold in Fort Knox or not? Yes, the place is extremely well guarded. But is any of the gold missing? Where are the records? Has the U.S. government somehow leased the gold out to third parties? Or perhaps even transferred the gold?

Nobody knows the answer to those questions, and to many others about the gold in Fort Knox. Or rather, the public doesn’t know, although I suspect that a few people in the dark shadows of the Treasury Department could fill us in.

And that was that, except for what happened next…

A Guy in a Dark Suit

When we finished discussing Air Force fuel issues, as well as the gold that might or might not be in Fort Knox, the Assistant Secretary asked me to stay. We chatted a bit, and after a few minutes a guy walked in, wearing a dark suit. He was from some office of “special investigations” in the Department of Defense; I don’t recall the exact name.

Quickly, I was informed that my casual reference to alien technology in an official meeting had consequences. The Air Force people were required to report my comment to a particular arm of the Department of Defense, and now it was time for a debrief to find out if I was just kidding or if I actually knew something.

Uh-oh… It would have been easy for me to fold like a cheap suit and say that I was just making stuff up. Except that an answer like that would not be true. Which led to a discussion of something that occurred in 1986, when I was on active duty in the Navy.

A Mission of National Importance

At the time I was a naval flight officer assigned to an antisubmarine aircraft squadron, stationed at Naval Air Station North Island, just across the bay from San Diego; and by the way, just across the ship channel from Naval Submarine Base San Diego (hold that thought).

Among other Navy jobs, I flew an airplane called the S-3 “Viking,” designed to find submarines, conduct surveillance and tracking, and carry ordnance when required (hold that thought, too).

Navy/Lockheed S-3A “Viking.” U.S. Navy photo.

Not to get too deep into the weeds, but my aircraft and squadron had a nuclear weapons mission, and I was fully trained, signed-off and certified as both a “courier” and “delivery aircrew.”

Along these foregoing lines, one day I received an urgent summons to the commanding officer’s office, along with several other of my flying colleagues, all of whom were on the nuclear-qualified list. And there, in that humble room, we were introduced to two three-star admirals; namely, Commander, Naval Air Forces Pacific and Commander, Submarine Forces Pacific.

In the Navy, it’s highly unusual for an admiral to show up at a squadron, let alone two of them, let alone two admirals with three-stars each. The long and short is that a U.S. submarine was returning to port with an item of interest that it recovered somewhere, and “national authorities” wanted this curiosity immediately hauled up to a site in Nevada.

As I noted before, amateurs talk tactics and professionals talk logistics. Apparently after a scrub of transportation options, some august group of wise heads determined that the best way to move this cargo was, first, to ferry it over the ship channel from the submarine base to a pier at North Island. Then, hang this object inside the bomb bay of an S-3 and fly it up to destination.

We didn’t get many details, but my impression was that, absolutely, the big shots of American decision-making did not want to transport this particular thing on public roadways. And they didn’t want it inside the relatively open cargo space of a large aircraft like a C-130.

At any rate, we had our tasking and over a very short period of time staged two S-3 aircraft for the mission; a “go-bird” and a spare, in case the first airplane had a problem. Each plane had an assigned pilot and copilot. That, and a weapons loading team was standing by.

My colleagues and I hung around the main aircraft hangar with our assigned airplanes, and eventually a truck arrived with a cannister, guarded by U.S. Marines. It turned out that this cannister was almost exactly the shape of a standard aerial torpedo that the S-3 was certified to carry. Definitely, though, it was not a torpedo. Still, the shape was much the same, particularly the placement of loading hooks and electrical connections.

As for what was inside the cannister? We were not privy to that, except that when we filed our flight plan, we declared that inside was “U.S. Department of Transportation, Class A-1.1 Material.” In other words, we were hauling something with high explosives inside.

Quickly and crisply, the ordnance team loaded this device. Then we hooked it up to the cockpit armament control panel (ACP). Our instructions were that as long as the little ACP light stayed green, everything was okay. If the light went orange, head out to sea and jettison. If the light turned red, jettison it really fast but not on land.

If you’re getting the impression that this was kind of a hasty, pickup team event, without extensive prior planning, you are on the right track. Sometimes, you just do what you must do.

As for the flight plan, we took off from North Island and immediately headed out to sea and an offshore military operating area around San Clemente Island. The instructions were to stay over the Pacific Ocean and inside military-controlled airspace until we were about as far north as Lompoc, California, just south of Vandenberg Air Force Base. Basically, the idea was not to fly over anything approaching populated areas, certainly not the San Diego environs or Los Angeles to the north.

Then when we made it far enough north, our orders and flight plan called for turning east to go as fast as possible to the Nevada site. Oh, and note that I am NOT saying the exact name of the place.

I’ll skip a lot of details and just say that eventually, we hit the right latitude and turned inland. Then seemingly out of nowhere, two Air Force F-16s joined up in a loose formation, trailing behind us. I could see that they were armed with Sidewinder missiles on the wingtips and doubtless had ammunition in their 20mm guns. Umm… yes, it’s what you might be thinking.

Map of various places in southern Nevada. Courtesy New York Times.

On that particular day, the sky was ours. Air traffic controllers cleared the airspace in front of us and ensured we knew it. It was a fairly fast, straight shot across Southern California and the southern Sierra Nevada Mountains, with a standard approach and landing at the Nevada locale.

At the end of the runway, a bunch of guys with guns were waiting, and a ground handler directed us to a de-arming area. And there, a remarkably well-trained group of people who appeared to be civilians unloaded our trophy from the bomb bay. They placed it onto a truck and drove away towards the nearby hills.

A very polite gentleman walked up, thanked us for our efforts, and announced that a refueling truck would be there in a moment. Meanwhile, our return flight plan was already filed. Then he offered us box lunches.

From what I could discern, that cannister of ours wound up in a cave somewhere out there in the hills and mountains of Nevada, and whatever became of it is beyond my ken.

Only on April 1^st…

It’s been 39 years since this particular event occurred, and I admit that a few details are hazy. Still, on a day like today and only today – April 1^st – I’m in the mood to open up a bit and (sort of) tell the tale.

That is, most of what I just related is true, and perhaps a little bit isn’t quite 100%. Because while I can legally write historical fiction, even many years later I still can’t tell you which is which on some points. So, make of it what you will.

And tomorrow, April 2^nd, it’s back to straight facts and analysis of all things gold, silver, mines and minerals, energy, exotic materials, technology and more.

Thank you for subscribing and reading.