RUNNING CODE: THE
NIGHT THE ALIEN DIED
By Richard H. Hall
PROLOGUE. This article originally was
drafted as a sample chapter for a proposed book on
the 1978 McGuire AFB case. It was hoped that a
publishing contract with an advance on royalties
would enable me to tie up some important loose
ends in my investigation. These included a planned
face-to-face meeting with another primary witness
living in a distant state and acquiring additional
documentation. Despite two promising prospects, no
contract was ever obtained.
Although I am well aware that investigation is far
from complete, it seemed important to report for
the record what I have found out so far. Having
met the primary witness on numerous occasions and
corresponded with him over many years, I have a
full picture of his family background and
professional career. Today he has a Masters Degree
in Human Relations and a B.S. in Business and
Management, both from major universities.
He has cooperated fully, answered all questions,
and provided important details as well as leads to
additional information. On one occasion when he
lived in Virginia, I met with him and his wife and
colleagues at their home. On another occasion, Len
Stringfield (who requested my help in his
investigation and introduced me to the witness)
arranged for him to meet with my brother, Bill,
and Bruce Maccabee. Later, the witness agreed to
the taking of a formal legal deposition which was
witnessed by, among others, Don Berliner and Rob
Swiatek of the Fund for UFO Research.
This Prologue is necessary in order to make it
clear that the witness is a known quantity. At
this point there is no doubt in my mind whatsoever
that the report is authentic, and since it
literally represents a case of corpus delicti it
is of first order importance. The fact that
several of the officers involved have denied to
other investigators having any knowledge of the
incident is not surprising at all under the
circumstances. I have long since come to the
conclusion that this case is so important and held
in such complete secercy that it will take a
thorough Congressional investigation to pry loose
the full story.
Here, then, is the story of the incident that
literally changed the life of a conscientious
young air policeman who was carrying on a family
tradition of police service, and who later was
subjected to repeated threats and intimidation for
talking about the experience to Len Stringfield
and me. This report was prepared with his direct
input and based on descriptive details that he
provided in writing at my request.
-----------------------------------------------------------
As night wore on into morning, Sgt. Jeff Morse and
his Air Force security police partner, Sgt. Mark
Larimer, were patrolling their assigned area on
the grounds of McGuire AFB, New Jersey, an
important Military Airlift Command base that
housed combat aircraft and nuclear weapons. As
members of the 418th Security Police Squadron,
they were responsible for base security and law
enforcement.
What started out as a routine--almost
boring--11:00 p.m. to 7:00 a.m. shift assignment
gradually took on nightmarish qualities as time
passed, and began to resemble something out of the
Twilight Zone. By about 1:00 a.m. they had checked
the offbase housing areas and the main base,
performed some building checks, and were settling
in for a peaceful evening. Everything seemed in
order. Morse could afford a little time to reflect
on how well his chosen career was
developing.
Several of his family members had been in law
enforcement work, so Morse was carrying on a
family tradition. He had been assigned to McGuire
for OJT (on-the-job-training) in police work for
just over a year, since graduating from Air Force
law enforcement school at Lackland AFB, Texas. He
had also undergone combat training at Camp Bullis
Training Center in San Antonio. The assignment at
McGuire was for three years. At age 18, He
considered it a privilege to be guarding such an
important base.
The night of January 18, 1978, was crisp and
clear, the air very cold, windy and dry. The stars
were sparkling brightly. A gibbous moon hung in
the sky, due to set about 8:00 a.m. The military
patrol car, a sedan, had a balky heater, so Morse
fiddled with it trying to get it adjusted.
Although he often worked alone, on this night he
had a partner from the security police side, Mark
Larimer. Morse, whose assignment was general law
enforcement, was showing him the ropes about that
side of Air Force police work, which was similar
to civilian police work but included base security
work as well.
The law enforcement and security police wore
identical uniforms and insignia. Both were "Blue
Berets," Air Force police with formal schooling.
They had SECRET clearances and were authorized to
carry arms and to make arrests. Their boss, the
commander of the security police squadron, was the
Air Force equivalent of an Army provost marshal:
"chief cop." The main responsibility of the
security police was to guard airplanes and nuclear
weapons against possible foreign agents or
saboteurs.
The radio linking the patrol car with the desk
sergeant on duty in the command post was quiet, as
it normally was at that time of night in
mid-winter. Not much was happening, so Morse
decided to show Larimer the procedures involved in
guarding base entry points such as the numbered
gates. Some time after 1:00 a.m. he radioed into
the command post offering to relieve the gate
guards for food and rest room breaks.
The desk sergeant checked the logs, then
dispatched Morse and Larimer to Gate #5 on the
rear side of the base, the one gate in that area
near the fence line adjoining Fort Dix. Gate #5
was a little-used gate in a very dark, remote area
of the base, a miserable assignment for any
self-respecting cop to guard. The guy on duty no
doubt would welcome a break.
As they were en route to the gate, the radio
suddenly crackled alive. Morse and Larimer heard a
tense voice admonish them that sightings of
unusual lights in the sky flying in formation had
started coming in from scattered locations; that
they should be on the alert for anything out of
the ordinary. At first they treated the
information as a joke, until they stopped the
patrol car and got out to look up at the sky to
see for themselves what was going on.
High in the sky formations of odd looking
bluish-green lights were cavorting over the base.
At first Morse and Larimer were shocked by the
sight, wondering what they were looking at. It was
an intriguing spectacle. They were single lights,
not the familiar running lights of aircraft. And
they were performing some pretty amazing
aerobatics.
The objects continued to fly back and forth,
changing formation several times, passing over the
base and then turning back for another fly-by.
Morse counted 12 distinct objects in a formation
headed south to north, and then apparently the
same formation of 12 objects returning on a north
to south pass. The high level of aerial activity
at this time of night, including the formation
flights, was totally unprecedented for any type of
aircraft they knew about.
Morse noted that the first formation was of two
parallel lines of objects, with the individual
objects staggered in line. Then two arrow-shaped
formations were visible at different angles. The
final formation was arrayed in a crescent shape,
until the objects abruptly dispersed and flew off
in different directions. What sort of aerial
"fireworks" were these? After a while they stopped
watching the repetitive flights and went back to
work, but the sightings continued for a long
period of time.
Morse's friend, Bill Cleninger, another sergeant
of equal rank, had been assigned dispatch duty as
desk sergeant that night. On the radio he sounded
somewhat upset, confused, and very excited by the
sightings. Part of his responsibility was to
prioritize events for response and to issue
follow-up assignments, while keeping superior
officers informed of what was going on if
something out of the ordinary occurred. Right now
he had his hands full as the UFO reports continued
to pour in, confirmed by personnel in the base
control tower.
At approximately 0330 hours, Morse heard the
sirens of civilian police vehicles running
code(sirens wailing and lights flashing) on
the roadway outside the perimeter of the base
fence line. In the distance he could see a New
Jersey State Police car passing by on
Wrightstown-Cookstown Road in hot pursuit, heading
in the direction of Fort Dix Army base. Fort Dix
bordered on the south-southeast fence line of
McGuire AFB, and security personnel of the two
bases shared a radio channel to coordinate law
enforcement activities.
Following the state police car was a Fort Dix
military police patrol, also running
"Code 3," lights and sirens. Morse
thought this was rather unusual since the Fort Dix
MPs ordinarily never left their areas. He
speculated that they must have taken a break at
the nearby 7-11 store or Ernie's pizza parlor just
outside of Gate #1.
At first he and Larimer thought the police
activity outside the base could have been
something routine, perhaps pursuit of a speeding
car from some off-base incident. Fort Dix, as an
open base, often attracted traffic violators who
sought refuge there while trying to elude pursuit.
But then the dispatcher informed him that the New
Jersey State Police were attempting to gain entry
to the air base at Gate #5, near the secluded rear
runway adjoining Fort Dix.
Sgt. Cleninger instructed them to proceed to Gate
#5 to assist the state trooper. As they approached
the gate, they heard Cleninger communicating on
another frequency with the Fort Dix Army
dispatcher. Both were talking very excitedly, and
trying to speak with an Army MP patrol that was in
hot pursuit of something nearby and, apparently,
in the process of making contact with the
"violators." Then there was something about a
shooting.
Arriving at the gate, Morse allowed the state
trooper to enter the base, asked him the nature of
his mission. The officer replied that he and the
Army MP patrol had been chasing an unidentified
low-flying object that, whatever it was, was
headed in the direction of the southeast fence
line. The MP had radioed a description to his
base: an oval object giving off a bluish green
glow. A sense of urgency and near panic set in
when the transmission from the MP was abruptly cut
off. They didn't know exactly where he was or what
was going on.
Sgt. Cleninger, meanwhile, informed Morse by radio
that he was now in contact with the Fort Dix
dispatcher by telephone. He instructed Morse to
call him on the phone at the gate so he could
relay what he had just been told. Over the
telephone line, Cleninger told Morse that radio
contact had been regained with the Army MP, and it
was learned that he had had a close encounter with
the unidentified object, and apparently with one
of its occupants as well.
The MP said that the object was hovering very
close to his vehicle, and that out of nowhere a
"thing" (in his words), a being of some sort, had
suddenly appeared directly in front of his
vehicle. It was about four feet tall, grayish
brown in color, with a proportionally large head,
long arms, and a slender body. Badly frightened,
the MP had panicked and fired five rounds from his
.45 caliber pistol into the creature, and one
upwards into the object hovering above him.
The object responded by accelerating straight up
into the night sky, apparently abandoning the
wounded creature. High overhead the object had
rejoined the other eleven blue-green objects which
were moving slowly, sort of hovering in position.
In fact, Morse and his partner had seen a single
object joining in with the larger group of objects
at high altitude, but they had not seen where it
came from.
The frantic MP said that the wounded being had
fled toward the McGuire fence line, but they had
lost track of it there. Following orders, Morse
led the state trooper to the inactive runway near
the fence line where they used their headlights
and spotlights to search for anything out of the
ordinary. This area was only used by the Air
National Guard. Several F-4 fighter jets were
parked on the flight line, and several munitions
storage areas were nearby.
Morse inquired of the desk sergeant, asking what
exactly they were looking for. The answer startled
him: "Whoever or whatever the MP shot." Since it
had fled toward the McGuire fence line, it may
have entered the base, he was told. So they were
looking for an injured someone or something.
It was getting very late, and the state trooper
and Morse drove their separate vehicles along at a
crawl, windows down, getting colder and colder,
their spotlights searching through the darkness.
The state trooper was getting impatient, saying
that he was too busy to be playing games and that
after they made a pass at searching the fence line
and runway he intended to wrap it up. Seeing
nothing unusual near the fence line they next
headed for the area of the taxiway leading to the
active runway.
By now they could see Army personnel on the other
side of the fence line using spotlights to search
there. There seemed to be a lot of discussion, and
a group forming near a particular area of the
fence line where the inactive runway made a sharp
right turn in an easterly direction. Perhaps they
had found the mysterious person or thing, and the
thought crossed Morse's mind that after all this
trouble they were going to miss out on it.
All of a sudden the two vehicles abruptly braked
to a stop, as their headlights revealed a
motionless figure lying prone on the cold concrete
in the middle of the inactive runway, about 50
feet directly in front of them. There was no sign
of how it got over or through the fence. They sat
awestruck for a few seconds, then Morse grabbed
his microphone and quickly informed the desk
sergeant about their discovery.
"What does it look like?," Sgt. Cleninger asked.
"It's about 4 feet in length, grayish brown in
color, with a fat head and long arms," Morse
replied, struggling to come to grips with what he
was looking at.
Morse and the trooper got out of their vehicles
and were about to approach the body, noticing a
pungent, ammonia-like stench in the air. As the
trooper and the two security police stood side by
side gaping at the body, they asked each other
simultaneously, "What the hell is that
thing?"
By now it was obvious to Morse that Cleninger,
back at security police headquarters, was taking
instructions from higher authorities and passing
their orders on to him. Before they had ventured
much closer to the body, he was instructed to
escort the
New Jersey state policeman off the base and to set
up an entry control point (ECP).
The trooper protested, but this was now standard
military police business: a body had been found on
the base within their jurisdiction. All civilians
must now leave the area. The point where it lay on
the old runway was a crime scene, and it was
Morse's duty to secure the area while senior
officers and investigators marshaled their forces
and made their way to the site.
He retrieved several poles and lengths of rope
from the trunk of the patrol car and began to set
up a perimeter, instructing his partner, Larimer,
to escort the trooper off the base. While setting
up the rope standards Morse was joined by two
additional security patrols that began to set up a
perimeter to the northern side of the controlled
area around the "crime scene."
About this time the radio traffic became very
intense, almost frantic, and they were ordered to
switch to a "secure" channel. To Morse, the
channel didn't sound secure. Usually, a secure
channel provided a one-to-one link between the
investigating officers and the desk sergeant, but
in this case it seemed to him that everyone and
their grandmother were on the channel all trying
to talk at once.
Morse's duty was to relay information to the desk
sergeant on what was happening in general, who was
showing up at the ECP, and who was asking
permission to enter the secure area. Authorized
officials had to be separated from curiosity
seekers trying to gain entry. But due to the
chaotic communications, he had difficulty getting
in a word at all.
Individuals who were authorized to enter the
controlled area were given a mathematical
clearance code by the desk sergeant, assigned by
protocol, and acknowledged by a simple sign
language between officials and the policeman at
the ECP. The code could be as simple as the
security policeman holding up three fingers and
awaiting a correct response of five fingers by the
person requesting entry, to equal the number
eight.
This system allowed important personnel to gain
faster access than would the cumbersome procedure
of checking all IDs and asking for verification of
their authorization to enter the area. For
security reasons, however, the code would only
remain valid for about 30 minutes maximum. It
would be continuously changed or upgraded
according to the level of security
prevailing.
Within 30 minutes of their finding the body, Morse
saw a group of about a dozen security police that
he first took to be law enforcement "augmentees"
arrive in a step van and take charge of the
investigation, but that didn't make any sense. The
new arrivals did not look or act like augmentees
at all, whose normal role would be to back up the
regulars. They would have arrived one by one, not
in an organized group, and would have been
assigned to the perimeter while the regulars
conducted the investigation. Furthermore, they
were armed with M-16 rifles and grenade launchers.
They weren't the recognizable professional
investigators of the Air Force Office of Special
Investigations (OSI) either.
In the Air Force police "augmentee" system, law
enforcement police cross-trained on the security
police side at times. On this fateful night, Mark
Larimer was cross-training as an "augmentee" for
regular law enforcement. Law enforcement personnel
also conducted investigations, but in the event of
a felony or major crime would be pre-empted by the
OSI. Organization charts and procedural matters
like these would take on new importance to Jeff
Morse later on, while trying to understand what he
observed that night.
Although the armament of the newly arrived
security police might not have been unusual if the
senior officers thought some kind of serious base
incursion was threatened, heavy weapons were kept
in an armory and would not have been readily
accessible on such short notice. Morse was armed
only with a .38 revolver. On the radio he heard
the special group referred to as the "recovery
team." He had never encountered them before.
Manning his ECP some distance away, Morse watched
as senior officers and emergency personnel arrived
on the scene and the recovery team went through a
seemingly well-rehearsed procedure. Morse also
noticed that they were all senior enlisted men,
wearing the chevrons of rank but no patches or
insignia that would identify their unit. He
wondered what was going on, but was primarily
occupied in performing his assigned duty and
didn't give that much thought to it at the
time.
In the next 24 to 48 hours the "strangeness" level
increased, as a number of peculiar events
transpired. Only then did Morse began to piece
together in his own mind that he must have been
involved in something of a truly extraordinary
nature. All he knew at the moment was that the
body did not appear to be human, but even that did
not fully register at first. From 50-75 feet away
the body appeared slimy, almost snakelike in
texture. Then there was the stench.
The thought occurred that maybe it was one of the
homeless persons known to live in the nearby
woods. But if so, why all the high level of
response? As he stood guard on the perimeter, he
saw the base commander, the security police
squadron commander, and the OSI commander at the
scene. They apparently knew all about the
"recovery team," because they watched without
interfering as it performed its functions.
EPILOGUE. By morning, Morse and Latham had watched
from slightly different perspectives as base
clinic personnel sprayed the body with something
from a backpack, and the "recovery team" crated
it, and forklifted the crate onto an Air Force
cargo plane that had arrived from Wright-Patterson
AFB, Dayton, Ohio. After the plane took off, the
other personnel dispersed.
The air police on the scene were debriefed, sworn
to secrecy, and shortly afterwards shipped to
various bases around the world. Morse was
transferred to Guam. Before departure, however, he
was subjected to intimidating interrogation at
Wright-Patterson AFB by a quartet of men in
civilian clothes.While stationed on Guam, shortly
before his enlistment was up, Morse heard Len
Stringfield talking on Armed Forces Radio about
his studies and contacted him. This eventually led
to several episodes of threats and intimidation
over the years, and when Morse attempted to apply
for a position in a Federal law enforcement
agency, he found that he was blackballed
© Richard Hall
All Rights Reserved
