[1] The course of the Space Age underwent a fundamental shift during the decade of the 1980's. The heady era of Sputnik, Apollo, and the Cold War-fueled space race shifted to an era of more methodical activities as space operations became popularly mundane. Similarly, seminal works pertaining to the history of conspicuous early space projects have been joined on the library shelf by words examining less glamorous, but still important topics. The big, visible space projects existed as much for reasons of politics and national prestige as for scientific research, and thus attracted the early attention of historians. The advancement of human knowledge and skill, however, owed at least as much and perhaps more to smaller projects and research conducted out of the spotlight.
A facility devoted to such projects still operates on the East Coast of the lower Delmarva Peninsula. The National Aeronautics and Space Administration's Wallops Flight Facility has, since its establishment in 1945, launched over 14,000 rockets, making it one of the most prolific launch sties in the world as well as one of the least known.1 Currently a subsidiary of Goddard Space Flight Center, Wallops has always been among the smaller of America's aerospace research facilities. Despite, and possibly because of, the administrative and budgetary chaos that often characterized this nation's space effort, Wallops evolved from a highly specialized, test facility to a more generalized, multi-faceted research center. The history of the base reaches back to the early days of U.S. involvement in space research, and reflects most of the major controversies encountered therein. An historical examination of the base, therefore. has value not only because of the comparative lack of such attention, but also because it allows a unique vantage point from which to view what is, to paraphrase policy historian John Logsdon, "the great adventure of our lifetime."2
Due to the limitations of size and time inherent in a thesis, this work will not be a detailed, all-encompassing history of the Wallops Station. This thesis will focus on the political, administrative, and social history aspects of the base from 1957 to 1966. This period began with the launch of the Soviet Union's Sputnik 1, continued through the creation of NASA, and culminated at the height of the Project Apollo escalation. A fast-paced era, it also includes the second of the three most important periods in Wallops history to date.3
The thesis is arranged in five chapters, with this first serving to provide background information on the base, relate events leading up to the creation of NASA, and introduce most of the themes that run through the body of [2] the work. The second chapter discusses the founding of NASA, the subsequent expansion of Wallops, and the organization of the base as an independent administrative entity. During this immediate post-Sputnik era the differing prioritization of aeronautical and space science research within NASA began to fundamentally alter Wallops' mission. The sudden appearance of a space race, combined with the unexpected closure of a nearby military base, also shifted the relationship between the station and the local community.
Chapter three provides a look at Wallops' involvement with the U.S. piloted space flight effort. This involvement, heavy during Project Mercury, declined throughout the period until almost nil during Project Apollo. The staff's reaction to the novelty of press coverage and public interest in its operations, a side effect of the piloted programs, is also examined.
Chapter four traces the course of space science research at Wallops by discussing not only programs and facilities located at the Virginia base, but also those operations that occurred off-range at various locations. Wallops' significant role in NASA's program of international cooperation coalesced during this early period, and is also examined.
The final chapter explores how the period of relative stability at Wallops through the following decade, extended from changes (and non-changes) that occurred during the transition era. The roles of Wallops' various customers are summarized, as is the role of the Station within both the local environment and within NASA. Before launching into the account of such an active era, however, it would be well to set the stage.
Langley Aeronautical Laboratory originally established the facility at Wallops Island in 1945 to fulfill an urgent wartime requirement for a test range to provide militarily vital aeronautical engineering data. Today the base serves scientists as the nation's only civilian controlled launch range supporting a wide assortment of research projects; a radical change. Conversely, the primary method utilized by the researchers at Wallops, the launching of solid-fueled rockets, remains little changed from the early days. Defined, founded, and operated by Langley engineers, the island base initially reflected its parent lab in many ways. Thus, a review of the backgrounds of both Langley and the National Advisory Committee for Aeronautics (NACA), of which it was a part, becomes necessary. This account begins in the opening years of the twentieth century, at the dawn of heavier-than-air flight.
Aviation existed in the embryonic state until the onset of this century. The lighter-than-air craft of the late nineteenth century exhibited little improvement over that flown by the Montgolfier brothers in 1783. Advancement came slowly until the success of the Wright brothers in 1903. The early years of powered flight found the pioneers of aviation struggling to understand both the physical properties of the atmosphere and the basics of aeronautical engineering. The experience of the First World War [3] demonstrated that European researchers had advanced more quickly in comprehending and utilizing the new arena than had their American counterparts The military, and to a lesser extent commercial, implications of this American aeronautical deficiency prompted the U.S. government to take action.
In March of 1915 Congress passed, appended to a naval appropriations bill, a law establishing the National Advisory Committee for Aeronautics. The somewhat general wording of the law empowered the Committee, "to supervise and direct the scientific study of the problems of flight with a view toward their practical solution..."4 Established despite misgivings from the military (worried about a civilian agency syphoning off resources), and bureaucratic squabbling common in Washington, the Committee met for the first time on 23 April 1915 in the offices of the Secretary of War. Though ostensibly civilian in nature, five of the original twelve seats on the Main Committee were held by military aviation personnel. This set a pattern for the special relationship that existed between the NACA and the services. No matter how busy, the Committee remained responsive to the needs of this prime customer throughout its existence.5
Once organized, the first priority of the Committee was the construction of a research laboratory. They believed modern facilities and motivated personnel would give them the ability to compete with Europeans who owed much of their technological lead to such state sponsored concerns. The War Department, already directed by Congress to select a site for such a facility, recommended a site near the town of Hampton, Virginia. The NACA concurred with this choice which offered reasonable proximity to Washington headquarters and Virginia industry, a variety of "experimental flying conditions," the promise of an adjacent military airfield, and enough isolation to ensure both safety and security.6 Langley Memorial Aeronautical Laboratory, dedicated in 1920, became the foundation of the NACA, and profoundly influenced national and international research for decades to come.
The early days at Langley were far from comfortable. Located in the midst of farmland just off the Chesapeake Bay, conditions bordered on the primitive Scarce housing, an isolated location, and a disagreeable climate prompted more than a few resignations at the beginning.7 As time passed and conditions slowly improved, however, a formidable research institution grew. Some of the world's most advanced wind tunnels and test equipment went into operation despite the lean budget years of the Great Depression. This allowed the engineers at the lab to do pathfinding work in aeronautical engineering. It should be noted that "engineering" and "science" do not always mean the same thing. The Langley engineers concentrated on designing and improving flying equipment rather than attempting to conduct research into atmospheric phenomena for its own sake. This focus on inventing and refining hardware was, of course, their job, but it would lead to problems later on. 8 [4] relaxed, scholarly atmosphere prevailed at the lab, informality being viewed as a stimulus to creativity. The comment made by a senior engineer, "Let's try the damn thing and see if we can make it work," illustrated a true understanding of the nature of experimentation, which required a tolerance for occasional failures.9 Situated at a distance from the NACA's Washington headquarters sufficient to escape stifling managerial scrutiny, Langley prospered and came to regard its relative independence as a fundamental necessity. Most research work was performed "in-house" rather than contracted out, and many Hampton residents found jobs at the lab. As time passed, the lab and the community adjusted to each other.
The advent of World War II did not take the NACA completely by surprise. Indications of advancing German aeronautical research abounded for several years prior to American military involvement. In an effort to accelerate the pace of U.S. research, the NACA persuaded Congress to authorize two new laboratories. Ames Laboratory, in Sunnyvale, California, opened in 1940 and provided testing facilities close to the West Coast aircraft manufacturers. Less than a year later, Lewis Laboratory, built in Cleveland. Ohio, began providing data on aircraft engines.10 In both cases Langley personnel were dispatched to plan, oversee, and operate the new labs. Thus, the Langley methodology spread through the growing NACA field organization. This methodology combined a commitment to the research ethic (intellectual freedom and systematic procedures), a certain level of administrative independence, and an aversion to contractors. While promoting the desired research standards, this methodology also promoted its share of tension between the field personnel and a Headquarters staff trying to maintain control over an expanding organization.11
The war served to intensify the military's claim of pre-eminent access to the NACA's facilities. From the beginning, the Committee gave specific military projects priority over the general research it preferred doing.12 The "clean-up" work performed during the war contributed greatly to the allied victory as almost every U.S. combat aircraft-type flown spent some time in an NACA wind tunnel. NACA leaders found this developmental role distasteful, but the needs of a nation at war left them with little choice.13 Aircraft manufacturers working on non-military projects found themselves unable to obtain similar services for their commercial designs. The NACA viewed its role as one of providing general data that all manufacturers could use. They worked carefully to avoid any charges of interfering with freemarket competition, or allowing publicly funded facilities to assist private gain, while trying to be responsive to industrial needs.14
Two important fields of inquiry rose to the top on the research agenda during the years of the Second World War: high-speed flights, and missile development. Dealing with these topics required new techniques and new facilities, all planned and built with war-time haste. With Ames and Lewis still in the very early stages of operation, the burden of this research fell [5] largely on Langley. Aircraft speeds rose steadily throughout the 1920's and 30's as more powerful engines and more efficient designs came into service. The speed of sound became a tangible milestone. Goal to some, barrier to others, respected scientists and engineers argued about the possibility of exceeding Mach 1. Not subject to debate, however, were the real aerodynamic effects created by aircraft approaching this velocity. Air piled up in the front of a fast moving plane, causing severe buffeting and loss of control. These ``compressibility effects" began to cause slips in manufacturing schedules and cost pilots their lives. Research into the transonic speed range became vitally necessary and the NACA began its research.15
Unfortunately, strange things happened in wind tunnels during tests at these speeds. Data readings, accurate above and below the transonic range, grew inaccurate within that range. A condition engineers referred to as "choking" occurred when shock waves generated by air moving over a test model rebounded off the tunnel walls, interacting with the model. These frustrating difficulties led NACA researchers to consider new methods of obtaining test data. One such method, designing and flying experimental research aircraft, led to the establishment of the High Speed Flight Station. Opened in 1946 adjacent to Edwards Air Force Base in California, this station gave Langley researchers a place to test-fly new designs, resulting in the famous X-series of aircraft. Two other methods, propelling instrumented models to high speeds by use of a rocket motor, and dropping instrumented devices from a high-flying aircraft, also required the establishment of a specialized facility.16
Concurrent with the need to conduct transonic flight research came the need to test early missile designs that began to appear late in the war. Several missile designs underwent testing in the Langley tunnels during the war, but there existed some question as to the status of this new device. Were they "pilotless aircraft" and subject to the NACA's research mandate, or ordnance, a glorified bullet, and out of the NACA's purview? Though solely a military device at the time, the NACA adopted the former position and started looking for a range from which they could test missile guidance and propulsion systems.17
In December 1944, Langley's Acting Engineer-in-Charge, John W. Crowley, organized a Special Flying Weapons Team to "oversee all missile research" at the lab. This team, led by Crowley himself, recommended the establishment of an Auxiliary Flight Research Station for the conduct of both high-speed flight and missile tests. The proposed base needed clear, unpopulated space downrange, a series of locations parallel to prospective flight paths suitable for radar tracking stations, and a reasonable proximity to Langley Safety and security considerations dictated an isolated spot and a nearby military airfield was deemed a must.18
A site near Cherry Point, North Carolina, drew the attention of the Langley engineers. Launches could be directed out over the Atlantic with flight paths parallel to Cape Hatteras. Less than an hour away from Hampton by air, [6] with a nearby Marine air base, this site seemed ideal. However, anticipated difficulties getting to tracking sites on the barrier islands combined with unanticipated objections to this civilian plan from the officers at the Marine base and eliminated Cherry Point from consideration.19 Crowley's team then re-examined a site originally rejected as too remote: Wallops Island.
Home to an old Coast Guard station and owned by a group of Pennsylvania sportsmen, support facilities for both people and experiments left much to be desired. Yet the lure of a base near Langley, with a clear range out over the Atlantic, good locations south along the coast for tracking stations, and the adjacent Chincoteague Naval Air Station, proved irresistible. In April 1945 Congress appropriated funds for the research station, and an accompanying facility at Langley. Navy plans to use the north end of the island as an ordnance test site, which included missile launches, settled the matter. On 11 May, 1000 acres on the south end of the island were leased by the NACA, clearing the way for the hiring of employees and the shipment of materials.20 Crowley pulled engineer Robert Gilruth out of Langley's Flight Research Division and put him in charge of the new organization.21 Gilruth and his associates tackled the job of preparing the site for rocket operations, organizing the facility, and commencing launches.
The hectic pace of activities did not slow with the end of the war in Europe. Launch operations from hastily constructed temporary facilities on Wallops commenced on 27 June 1945. With no experience in the conduct of rocket operations, Langley relied on the assistance on the Navy's Bureau of Ordnance, their neighbors on the island, until their own personnel gained proficiency. Gilruth delegated the tasks of assuring that the Langley personnel achieved such proficiency to engineer William J. O'Sullivan; Gilruth himself was busily coordinating a variety of other tasks.22
Like the military facilities at Cape Canaveral, Florida, and White Sands in New Mexico, the civilian range at Wallops quickly became host for a number of research projects and capabilities promoting aeronautical research. The southern tip of the island served as a drop zone for free falling models. Though not utilized to the same extent as the rocket model method, drop models did provide useful data. Balloon launches relayed atmospheric data in support of flight operations, an important function since the atmosphere, unlike the environment inside a wind tunnel, could not be carefully controlled. A desire to experiment with ramjet designs led to the early construction of a wind tunnel facility known as the Preflight Jet, the only one of its kind at that time.23
The establishment of Wallops paralleled in many ways the establishment of Langley Lab. Engineers from the NACA came together in a remote location supported by the military, assisted by local workers, to conduct pathfinding research into a highly technical enterprise of vital and urgent interest to country at war. Early conditions at Wallops also recall the early days a Langley. The sparsely populated area contained little save farmland and...
...marshes, demanding a measure of endurance form those assigned there. Scarce housing, few social diversions, and a general lack of amenities made working there an unappealing prospect. The island itself was barren of facilities. No road connected it to the mainland, so reaching it required a ferry or seaplane. Portable generators provided power. Supplies as basic as water needed to be ferried in. Food prices in the area soared, and the nearest hospital facilities lay forty miles away in Salisbury, Maryland, as the naval base at Chincoteague could only provide emergency services. An abundance of mosquitoes and horseflies sufficed to round out a very uncomfortable duty station.24
The remoteness of the location served its purpose, however. It satisfied the engineers who wanted to conduct hazardous operations safely and without interruption, and pleased a military clientele concerned with maintaining a shroud of secrecy around an emerging class of weapons. The existence of the station was not publicly acknowledged for over a year, and the research results during the early period quite often were released only on a need to know basis.25 The isolation also fostered the Langley traditions of a relaxed atmosphere and relative freedom from managerial scrutiny.
The rudimentary nature of the facilities at the Station began to change the day the war ended. The process of constructing a permanent plant [8] commenced with the opening of bids at Langley. The post-war scale back in government spending slowed the construction process, as did the Navy's oft-stated plans to purchase the entire island for the Bureau of Ordnance. While the Navy professed no objection to sharing the island with the NACA, they delayed. By law the government agencies could only build on government owned land, and the Bureau of the Budget refused to allow the NACA to purchase parts of an island scheduled for acquisition by the Navy. Therefore, the temporary facilities first erected saw use for several years longer that anticipated, with permanent construction limited to the few acres already purchased.26
The administrative organization coalesced somewhat more quickly during this period. On 10 June 1946, the Auxiliary Flight Research Station became the Pilotless Aircraft Research Division of Langley Laboratory (PARD). Wallops remained the operational site of the group and officially received the name Pilotless Aircraft Research Station, though the acronym PARS never found widespread use and the base continued to be called simply: Wallops. Robert Gilruth, designated division chief, started to refine his team, a task largely completed by 1950.27
For Wallops, the most profound effect of this reorganization turned out to be the assignment of Robert L. Krieger to the post of Engineer-in-Charge, Wallops Island, a position he held until his retirement from NASA in 1980. A Hampton native, Krieger worked at Langley in his youth, performing various unskilled and semi-skilled tasks. He eventually found himself working for engineer Edmund C. Buckley in the Photo Lab. Buckley persuaded Krieger to seek an engineering degree, and after taking this advice Krieger graduated from the Georgia Institute of Technology in 1943. He returned to Langley and was assigned to the Instrument Research Division, now headed by Buckley, and proceeded to work on radar tracking and photographic data collection techniques. When Buckley accepted the position of Assistant Chief of PARD in 1948 he called upon his protege to take charge of operations at Wallops. Krieger's appointment served to highlight the importance of the tracking and data acquisition function of the PARD operation. Launching the rockets was only a part of the research process. New radar tracking, radio telemetry, and photographic techniques played an indispensable role in conducting a successful project, and Krieger had specialized in that area. He did not just bring technical experience and a background steeped in the Langley tradition to the base, he proceeded to make Wallops his own.28
Other personnel shifts of importance to Wallops occurred during this period. John Crowley moved to NACA Headquarters, becoming Assistant Director of Aeronautical Research. He worked closely with both Dr. George W. Lewis and Dr. Hugh L. Dryden, the NACA's last two research directors. When Crowley's transfer became permanent in July 1947 Floyd L. Thompson succeeded him as Langley's Research Department Chief with Ira A. Abbott and Special Flying Weapons Team veteran Hartley A. Soule as his assistants.
[9] Within a year, Abbott transferred to Headquarters to assist Crowley.29 It is apparent that even though the NACA had, by 1950, grown into an organization far larger than any of its founders could have foreseen, upper management remained a tight little group. They knew each other, shared common backgrounds, and knew intimately how the NACA functioned. Most of them also knew Wallops, an important consideration given their prominent role in the creation of NASA.
During the first phase of operations at Wallops, the transonic period, the predominant number of tests fell into the category of basic research. This included launches to investigate drag, control, and stability characteristics of assorted generic aerodynamic shapes. Interspersed with these general tests were examinations of specific military aircraft and missile models, but the relative numbers indicate the weight Langley engineers gave research over development.30 (See appendix 1)
Regardless of the manner of the test or the customer, the overall frequency of testing rose steadily. The value of the data generated at Wallops prompted an industry request in 1948 for the NACA to expand and accelerate the PARD program. The simultaneous growth of operations at the Naval Air Ordnance Test Station, on the other end of the island, caused concerns about potential range interference. The issue came to a head in late 1948 and early 1949, and resulted in the Navy acceding the "primary interest " of NACA activities on the island. The establishment of test ranges at Point Mugu and Point Arguello, California, lowered the Navy's interest in Wallops and cleared the way for NACA purchase of the island.31 By use of condemnation proceedings the government took possession of the island on 7 November 1949, and later paid $93,238.71 in compensation to the previous owners. This finally allowed the needed construction to proceed.32
This construction centered mostly on replacing the old temporary structures, and erecting the shops and control facilities needed to handle an increasing workload. A test apparatus known as a helium gun was transferred from Langley to Wallops at this time, adding to the research arsenal at the base. The number of employees assigned to the station stabilized at around 75 during this period, however, a situation which did not change appreciably until the creation of NASA. The internal organization of the base also stabilized with the assignment of personnel to either the Mechanical Services Unit, the Research Section, or the Administrative Unit. "In the daily operations at the island, however, organizational lines were not rigidly drawn-all personnel helped in any way they could to get the Job done."33
The rough local conditions continued to stress those at the base. The scarcity of community facilities caused hardships for all, even those at the top. In 1951 Robert Krieger requested permission to move his office back to Langley. He retained his position in the Wallops structure with little effect on the operations at the base since planning, budgeting, data reduction, and many [10] of the test preparations took place at the Hampton lab. Engineer John C. Palmer assumed responsibility for overseeing the daily operations on the base. This would solidify the administrative pattern that would prevail for the rest of the decade. Researchers, inside or outside of the NACA, who wished to use the facilities at Wallops went to PARD at Langley, because the decision-making process operated there. Wallops performed the same function as any of Langley's wind tunnels, researchers traveled to the Station only to conduct their tests. Wallops provided services, PARD provided direction, and Langley provided support.34
The focus of the research performed at Wallops began to shift in the early 1950's. Transonic research remained important for several more years, but equipment designers discovered a way around the choking problem. The new fixtures, slotted-throat wind tunnels, could provide transonic data without the necessity of watching an expensive, highly instrumented model vanish into the ocean. A major source of contention between advocates and opponents of rocket model testing lay in the waste inherent in the method. Models required money and, more importantly, time to produce and outfit with equipment. Proponents justified the tests by pointing out that they lacked a less-expensive method. The slotted-throat tunnels removed this argument, which was one of the major reasons for Wallops' existence. In addition to the quality of tunnels, the quality of equipment capable of conducting transonic research at Ames and Langley made the rocket model technique less necessary. At this point however, another research program arose to supplant transonic research in importance. Despite the execution of specific projects for various customers, the NACA felt that their primary mission remained basic, fundamental inquiry into the unexplored areas of flight. So, PARD found other uses for the Wallops range.35
Since the vivid German demonstration of the ballistic missile's military potential late in the war, American planners had slowly begun to investigate this weapon. The revolution represented by combining atomic bombs and pilotless aircraft started generating concern, especially after the Soviets broke America's nuclear monopoly in September 1949. The explosive force of an atomic bomb could compensate for the inaccuracies of early missile designs to a point. As the distance from the target increased however, the inaccuracies became unacceptable. The Communist victory in China, increasing tensions in Europe, and a war in Korea, all spurred U.S. missile research to overcome the technical difficulties.
By 1950 Wallops was conducting tests of the sub-sonic Snark cruise missile and its supersonic follow-on, the Boojum.36 Cruise missiles, even if supersonic, suffered from the same vulnerabilities that endangered all combat aircraft. Again the Germans provided the lesson. The Allies shot down V-1 cruise missiles in droves, but could not devise a defense against the ballistic V-2 missile once it took off. Ballistic missiles presented much more complex problems by operating at higher speeds, reaching greater altitudes, and [11] experiencing more heating than any weapon system previously designed. The research questions concerning drag, stability, control, and performance were old ones, while the territory being opened, the hypersonic speed regime, was virtually unexplored.37
The nature of the NACA's hypersonic program grew from its response to the earlier transonic problem. Again, wind tunnels could provide little data, requiring an alternate approach. Researchers at Ames and the High Speed Flight Station proposed extending the experimental aircraft program, while Langley and Lewis advocated increasing Wallops capabilities. NACA Headquarters, under political fire for having failed to exploit such advances as rocketry, swept wings, and jet engines during the war, needed a program that would put it back on the forefront of research. Transonic and supersonic research had been first steps. A hypersonic program provided the next logical step, especially since it coincided with emerging military needs.38
The PARD's experience at Wallops put the NACA in a very good position. Deriving accurate data using the rocket model technique required some expertise. One Ames engineer noted, "Most of the missile manufacturers are engaged in obtaining aerodynamic data from firings of their missiles. Almost without exception they would like to know the secret of PARD's success in getting reliable data from such firings."39 After a 24 June 1952 meeting at Wallops, the NACA Committee on Aerodynamics adopted a resolution calling on the NACA to, "increase its program dealing with problems of unmanned and manned flight in the upper stratosphere at altitudes between 12 and 50 miles, and at Mach numbers between 4 and 10," and to, "devote a modest effort to problems associated with unmanned and manned flights at altitudes from 50 miles to infinity, and at speeds from Mach number 10 to the velocity of escape from the Earth's gravity."40 The NACA Executive Committee adopted this position the following month. Desiring to take no chances, Headquarters elected to pursue a balanced program One path led to the X-15 and ultimately the Space Shuttle, the other led to Projects Mercury and Apollo.41
Despite the completion of construction on the island in 1952, the redirected research effort called for new equipment and facilities. The boosters in use at that time could not easily reach hypersonic speeds. Bigger, more powerful boosters required larger launching equipment and more spacious shops. Also, better tracking and data acquisition hardware capable of supporting higher speeds and altitudes were essential. The final stumbling block Concerned limitations placed on Wallops' range clearance. Even though the Navy curtailed operations on the island, the general area remained busy. Fleet training areas lay offshore, civil air routes passed nearby, and both Navy and Air Force conducted supersonic flight training over the ocean. Electronic, as well as physical interference posed difficulties. With a plethora of land based, shipboard, and airborne radars and radios close at hand Wallops began to seem much less isolated.
[12] The increasing traffic posed little problem early on as test rockets did not fly too high and ended their flights only a few miles offshore. The hypersonic program, with a reliance on multi-stage rockets, dictated sea and air clearances to much greater distances.42 Early attempts to extend the sea range met with the determined opposition of the Navy's Commander-in-Chief, Atlantic Fleet. After several years of negotiations, the Navy and the NACA reached agreement on coordination of activities around Wallops Island. Although it occasionally needed fine tuning, this coordination worked well for the rest of the decade. Fortunately, cooperative use of military training areas meant that Wallops only rarely conflicted with civil air routes at this time.43
Though still somewhat spartan, the living conditions around the area began to improve. Part of the completed construction program included a building that functioned as cafeteria, lounge, and bunkhouse for both varieties of personnel: residents and transients. The permanent employees who operated and maintained the Station found housing in the local area, if indeed they were not already living there. The transient personnel, who came to the base only to participate in tests, usually stayed in the service building on the island. Social activities, aside from fishing, remained hard to find for these visitors, and many of them spent their spare time working on their projects.44
By mid-1953, projects, especially those from the military started running into serious delays. Attempting to increase the workload without significantly increasing the workforce, something Congress refused to allow, partially accounted for the growing backlog. The NACA's refusal to allow Ames to set up a Wallops-like facility on the West Coast added to the problem. The intricate and time consuming process of model preparation, the envied "secret" of PARD's success, completed the morass.45 Langley engineers preferred to build their models in Langley's own shops, as industry-supplied models frequently failed to meet flight standards. Similarly, the lab's Instrument Research Division (IRD) had "hand-tailored" telemetry systems to the point where nothing available outside the lab gave suitable results. PARD adopted a policy of returning to the manufacturer models needing redesign or corrective work, and IRD gave the military models priority over the ones devoted to general research. It took over a year to get the test schedule back on track, and a tight pace remained the norm at Wallops.46
In late 1953 the NACA commenced a new program at the Station in response to a military request. The survivability of aircraft subjected to severe and sudden wind gusts, like those produced by an atomic blast, constituted an unknown factor in designing new aircraft. Langley developed a method of simulating such blasts by means of conventional explosives and measuring the aerodynamic loads exerted on scale models placed nearby to provide the needed data. After determining that accurate testing could not be safely conducted indoors at Langley, researchers began testing outdoors at Wallops. The engineers exploded charges as large as 650 pounds in the course of this [13] '`Blast Research Project," which provided increased experience with both models and explosives at the station.47
The higher performance motors required for the hypersonic program started tests from Wallops in 1954. The Deacon rocket, produced by the Allegheny Ballistics Laboratory specifically for use as a research rocket was the booster of choice during Wallops' transonic phase. Fired singly or in clustered groups the Deacon remained a valuable tool for many years, but military Nike and Honest John rockets propelled the redirected research program. By late 1954, a four stage vehicle utilizing the Nike reached Mach 10, a significant advance. Engineers placed the speed of a re-entering intercontinental ballistic missile (ICBM) warhead at Mach 20, however, which called for more rocket power to meet test objectives.48
The Honest John promised to provide the desired performance but the destruction of a launcher during the first firing of the bigger booster emphasized the need for new launch equipment. New support facilities were also required. A second round of construction began which gave Wallops the ability to carry out its part of the hypersonic program. The local economy also derived some benefit from the expansion. While NACA personnel built the new launcher, for example, a local firm received the contract for the concrete pad. The new pad went into operation by the end of 1955. After a number of component tests, a five stage vehicle, the first ever launched, flew on 26 August 1956. PARD researchers calculated that this vehicle attained a speed of Mach 17.49
As Wallops gained experience with its new boosters, the engineers began obtaining valuable data on the flight characteristics of objects moving at reentry velocities. Raw speed, of course, was not the end goal of the program. Dealing with the heat generated by objects traveling at such speeds provided the main impetus for the researchers. The quest to understand such a phenomena involved more that just rocket flights. The Pre-flight Jet Facility, modified at this time, allowed the Wallops engineers to conduct high-temperature testing in a laboratory setting. They tested a wide variety of shapes and materials at a range of temperatures and pressures. While not capable of producing the extremes found in actual flight, the tests of nose cones, fins, and scale models in the new Ethylene Jet refined the rocket model process. This combination of wind tunnel and rocketry put PARD and Wallops in the fore of hypersonic research.50 Indeed, the high-temperature research became so important that the PARD altered its internal organization to promote the efficiency of the work and reflect the changing program. A High-Temperature Branch replaced the old General Aerodynamics Branch with engineer Paul Purser as its head.51
The mid-fifties also saw another novel type of research come to Wallops Station. Amid the flights of military models and general aerodynamics vehicles, scientific sounding rockets began to rise from the ocean-front launchpads.
[14] After the war, a group of U.S. scientists formed the V-2 Upper Atmosphere Research Panel in order to probe the atmosphere with captured V-2 missiles. The number of V-2s being limited, the group turned to other vehicles to carry their instruments, and changed their name to the Upper Atmosphere Rocket Research Panel (UARRP).52 In June 1947, Assistant to the Chief, PARD, William J. O'Sullivan became the NACA representative to the UARRP. In December, O'Sullivan also became the NACA member of the (NACA) Aerodynamics Committee's Special Subcommittee on the Upper Atmosphere (SSUA). This dual membership allowed O'Sullivan to keep both groups abreast of the current state of hypersonic research.53 Dr. James Van Allen, of Johns Hopkins, held the chair of the UARRP. The NACA Special Subcommittee was chaired by Harry Wexler of the U.S. Weather Bureau, and included as members Van Allen, future NASA Associate Administrator Homer Newell then of the Naval Research Laboratory, and Joseph Kaplan, who later chaired the U.S. International Geophysical Year Committee. Several other people served both groups, "In fact, many meetings were held consecutively with practically the only changes being the presiding officer and the secretary."54
In early 1953, Langley established a study group to consider the details of a hypersonics program. The three-man group included O'Sullivan, and their report recommended that a hypersonic research aircraft be built, supported by rocket model tests from Wallops with the test vehicles to be recovered from the Sahara Desert.55 Given his connection with Langley's management, his seat on an NACA subcommittee, and his association with military and university scientists outside the NACA, the fact that O'Sullivan (one of those responsible for the early organization of Wallops Station) could facilitate PARD's entry into atmospheric science research came as no surprise.
It is interesting to consider that in April 1958, Smith J. DeFrance, Langley veteran and long-time head of Ames Laboratory, wrote a letter to Robert Gilruth stating that, "the staff of Ames Laboratory is anxious to take advantage of the powerful research technique afforded by the rocket flight test facilities at the Wallops Island field station," and asking for basic information about the base and PARD's operations.56 In November, Ames engineers paid a visit to the station.57 Ames had little contact with Wallops during their early existence. Though originally staffed by Langley trained personnel, Ames' situation on the West Coast made utilization of the Virginia range impractical. Also, the growth of an institutional culture at the California lab created occasional frictions between Langley and Ames, though generally the relationship was one of "friendly rivalry."58 It thus seems likely that, through O'Sullivan and others, the planners of the International Geophysical Year knew more about Wallops' and PARD's capabilities at an earlier date than did some researchers within the NACA itself.
During the first years of the upper atmosphere research effort the scientists used the converted V-2s, the Naval Research Laboratory's Viking and Aerobee [15] rockets, and the Rockoon system to conduct their experiments.59 As the three former operated with liquid fuel and the latter proved too inaccurate to launch from land, Wallops contributed little to this phase of the research. By 1958, though, budget constraints forced the consideration of a less expensive booster. L.M. Jones, of the University of Michigan, consulted with O'Sullivan who pushed the Nike-Deacon combination already in use at Wallops. Jones wanted a system that could reach 250,000 feet with a 50 pound payload. O'Sullivan had previously done the necessary calculations and promised Jones 400,000 feet.60
On 8 April 1958, the first atmospheric sounding rocket launched from Wallops flew for the University of Michigan. Though the project was funded by the Air Force Cambridge Research Center, this military interest did not hinder project access to the base.61 The l.G.Y. Committee took quick notice, especially since the use of the Nike-Deacon reduced by a factor of 10 the cost of an experiment previously conducted with an Aerobee. Two successful test flights thus put Wallops into the I.G.Y. program and on the road to an entirely new mission.62
The U.S. Weather Bureau also quickly capitalized on this new research capability. Assisted by the Office of Naval Research, the Bureau was looking for a new hurricane detection method. The accidental discovery of such a storm during a rocket flight from White Sands inspired the idea, and the economy of PARD's Nike-Deacon attracted the attention of Bureau Chief Francis W. Reichelderfer, also a member of the NACA Main Committee.63 He arranged a 20 October meeting with O'Sullivan, and the NRL's John Townsend and Leslie Meredith. The result of this meeting was Project Hugo, a plan to launch Nike-Cajun rockets with a camera package as payload. After taking a series of pictures, the camera package would descend by parachute for recovery by the Navy. The film could then be examined for hurricanes, providing advance notice of their approach. The system sounded good, but for a number of reasons, proved unreliable. Despite an effort watched over by Robert Krieger himself, the first and only successful test of Project Hugo did not occur until 5 December 1958. The pending development of orbital weather satellites promised an easier way to do the job, a vehicle out of Wallops' field, but the Weather Bureau would return to the Station later.64
Not all of PARD's early forays into cooperative scientific research went smoothly. In mid-1955, Dr. S. Fred Singer of the University of Maryland proposed a series of research flights sponsored by the National Security Agency. The design of the new Terrapin rocket caused some friction between Singer and PARD, as did the lack of requisite paperwork between the NSA and the NACA. Several memos buzzed back and forth within Langley, and although the project was satisfactorily concluded, it pointed out the need for a new set of procedures at Wallops to facilitate the nascent scientific program.65
[16] Most of Wallops efforts in the pre-Sputnik era came at the behest of American organizations. U.S. military, industrial, or collegiate customers monopolized the resources of the PARD. Few foreign projects came to the base. Two projects of interest to the North Atlantic Treaty Organizations's Advisory Group for Aeronautical Research (AGARD) were conducted in 1951 and 1954. Joseph Shortal, who replaced Gilruth as PARD Chief in 1951 reported that he, "presented a paper on the rocket model and Helium Gun [testing] techniques at the Fourth General Assembly of AGARD meeting in the Netherlands in May 1954.66 Representatives of AGARD did not receive an invitation to visit Wallops until 1959.67
It appears that the only non-American group to use the Station during the NACA era was a team from the Canadian Armament Research and Development Establishment Test Range. These engineers encountered difficulty tracking rocket model tests of the CF-105 fighter aircraft. They received permission to launch two CF-105 models at Wallops and came away ''impressed'' by the Wallops radar operators' ability to quickly acquire and track the model.68 With all of the military tests underway at the base during this period, especially ICBM and other nuclear related research, cooperative work with international organizations did not rank highly on PARD's priority list.
The increasing speeds and distances associated with the hypersonic program pushed capabilities of the tracking and data acquisition equipment to their limit. The first several years of the program resulted in such an increase in booster performance that, "minimum improvements and a loss of accuracy had to be accepted..."69 The problem not only concerned increasing the range and sensitivity of the radars involved in tracking the test flights, but also focused on the sensors aboard the models that generated the data, and the telemetry systems that relayed the data to the engineers on the ground. Wallops received most of their radar equipment either from the military as surplus, or directly from the military's suppliers. As radar systems constantly changed to meet increased levels of military needs, those increased abilities found their way into Wallops' equipment, requiring minor IRD modifications. The telemetry systems retained the complexity that had become a trademark of the IRD's specialized work, however, and this equipment continued development on a largely in-house basis. The unique requirements of the hypersonic program called for devices not easily found from industry. The program sparked "an instrument development program for high-speed and high-altitude measurements that was to continue far into the space age."70
That age commenced sooner than expected.
1. Due to the fact that each research flight requires the launch of several small rockets to calibrate tracking systems, the absolute total number of launches from Wallops is impossible to state exactly. The number stated here is from Berl Brechner, "Space Island," Air & Space Smithsonian, April/May 1989, 62. The figure is corroborated by calculations from several sources including: Jane Van Nimmen, Leonard C. Bruno, and Robert L. Rosholt, NASA Historical Data Book, vol. 1 (Washington, D.C.: National Aeronautics and Space Administration 1988),480 (hereafter cited as Data Book I; Table by Wallops Public Affairs Office June 1979, in file box "J. S. Palmer's Old Records -Historical," in the Wallops Flight Facility Records Collection, Wallops Island (collection hereafter cited as WFFRC). This file box contains assorted typed and handwritten tables depicting yearly launch records, most of which agree generally if not exactly.
2. John Logsdon, "Opportunities for Policy Historians: The Evolution of the U. S. Civilian Space Program," in A Spacefaring People: Perspectives on Early Spaceflight, ed. Alex Roland (Washington, D.C.: NASA, 1985), 81.
3. The first important period, 1944-1951, involved the establishment of the base and its early development. The third important period, 1979-1983, centered on the merger of Wallops with Goddard Space Flight Center, and the retirement of many NACA veterans.
4. Alex Roland, Model Research: The National Advisory Committee for Aeronautics 1915-1958, vol. 2 (Washington, D.C.: NASA, 1985), 394-95. Unless otherwise noted, citations for Roland hereafter will refer to either volume one or two of this work.
5. Roland, l: 5-29. See also, James R. Hansen, Engineer In Charge: A History of Langley Aeronautical Laboratory 1917-1958 (Washington, D.C.: NASA, 1987), 1-5.
6. Hansen, 9-16; quote is on page 11. See also, Roland, I: 79-81.
7. Hansen, 58-62. Hansen also notes that, "forty-six Langley workers died of influenza between September 1918 and January 1919," (page 18).
8. Hansen, xxxii-xxxiii.
9. Ibid., 325. See also, Howard E. McCurdy, Inside NASA: High Technology Organizational Change in the U.S. Space Program, (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1993), 25-34.
10. Roland, 1: 147-66.
11. Edwin R Hartman, Adventures In Research: A History of Ames Research Center, 1940-1965 (Washington, D.C.: NASA, 1970), 32. See also, Roland, I: 249-50 McCurdy, 25-60.
12. Hansen, 159.
13. Roland, I: 196.
14. Ibid., 108-23.
15. "The transonic region refers to that area between mach .7 and mach 1.3 where a plane encounters mixed subsonic and supersonic airflow." Richard P. Hallion, On The Frontier: Flight Research at Dryden, 1946-1981 (Washington, D.C.: NASA, 1984),4. See also, Roland, I: 199; and Hansen, 220, 249-56. Hansen gives a good account of the forces encountered at Mach 1.
16 Joseph A. Shortal, A New Dimension: Wallops Island Flight Test Range: The First Fifteen Years (Washington, D.C.: NASA, 1978), 4-6. See also, Hansen, 257-58. The fourth method used to obtain transonic data did not find wide spread use. The wing-flow method involved mounting a small model atop the wing of an aircraft which would then fly close to Mach 1. The airstream close to the wing would go supersonic allowing the research model to experience what the aircraft carrying it could not.
17. Shortal, 9; Roland, 1: 252-53.
18. Ibid., 23-4.
19. Ibid.
20. Ibid., 25-32.
21. Shortal, 29.
22. Ibid., 48. See also, Doug Garner, "Seeking Guidance," in Air & Space Smithsonian, October/November 1993, p. 80-83; for an account of early operations at Wallops.
23. Shortal, 60-66, 98, 107, 118-22.
24. Ibid., 66-69.
25. "Victory reveals existence of secret missile base," New York Times, 24 September 1946. Shortal, 146. See also "Spinak, et al.," Oral History interview, Tape la: 140.
26. Shortal, 73, 104-5, 115-16.
27. Hansen, 269-70; Shortal, 93-7.
28. Biographical file #001246, "Robert L. Krieger," in the Biographical Collection of the NASA History Office, Washington, D.C. (This repository hereafter cited as NHO). See also, Shortal, 94-95.
29. Shortal, 93-95; on page 68 there is a photograph from October 1945 showing Ira Abbott and John Stack, among others, at Wallops "for a flight operation."
30. Roland, I: 197-98.
31. Ibid., I: 498; Shortal, 104-6.
32. Shortal, 115.
33. Ibid., 141-43, for the helium gun, an apparatus that launched small models with a blast of pressurized helium. On page 183 Shortal relates that 20 people were assigned to the Research Section "which handled all flight operations and the Preflight Jet;" 45 were assigned to the Mechanical Services Unit which maintained the equipment and the base; and 10 were assigned to the Administrative Unit to handle paperwork.
34. Ibid., 186.
35. Ibid., 237-40; Hansen, 269-70.
36. Shortal, 160, 202.
37. Hansen, 348. On page 344 Hansen notes, "Generally speaking, aerodynamicists considered speeds above Mach 5 as hypersonic, since this was the supersonic speed at which aerodynamic heating seemed to become vitally important in aircraft design."
38. Ibid., 356, 362; Roland, 1: 200-06. Roland notes on page 253 that the NACA's lack of a clear mandate to pursue rocket research left the investigation of this device largely in the hands of the military.
39. Shortal, 237, remark is attributed to Harry J. Goett, who later became the first director of the Goddard Space Flight Center.
40. Ibid., 241.
41. Ibid., 237-41. Note that unlike the earlier X-series aircraft, no models of the X-15 appear to have been tested at Wallops.
42. Ibid., 116-18, 293-4.
43. Ibid., 170, as to Naval opposition to Wallops increased range, "Langley was informed privately that no relief could be expected as long as the incumbent: CINCLANT was in command." See also pages 293-4; and for conflicts with civil air routes, page 116.
44. Ibid., 297-8. ~Spinak, et al.," OHI, Tape la: 140. For a more detailed description of the housing problem early on at Wallops see: Memorandum, R. R. Gilruth for E. H. Chamberlin, 28 February 1946; Memorandum with enclosures, W., Calvert Roberts to H. J. E. Reid, 9 May 1946; Memorandum, _ W. White for files, 23 May 1946; Memorandum, H. J. E. Reid to NACA Headquarters, 17 May 1946; Memorandum, H. J. E. Reid for R. E. Ulmer, 9 September 1957; Memorandum, Kurt Berlin for the record, 4 March 1959. All are in folder "Wallops, January - June 1946 [sic]," Record Group A181-1 "Correspondence Files, Wallops Island," in the Langley Research Center Historical Archives. Date on the file should read 1965. This collection hereafter cited as RGA181-l(C).
45. Shortal, 302; Hansen, 270; Roland, l: 264-65. A very revealing insight into NACA - Congressional relations can be seen in: U.S., Congress, House, Committee on Appropriations, Independent Offices Appropriations for 1957, Hearings before a Subcommittee of the House Committee on Appropriations, 84th Cong., 2nd sess., : 5602-03H, p. 984. Subcommittee Chairman Albert Thomas accused NACA Director Hugh L. Dryden of having "people hanging out of windows and on the roof." Unless otherwise noted, all Congressional records cited hereafter are in the "Congressional Records Collection" in NHO.
46. Shortal, 302; Hansen, 270.
47. Shortal, 427.
48. Ibid., 83, 441.
49. Ibid., 442, 446. For additional information on the needs of the hypersonic: program see: U.S., Congress, House, Committee on Armed Services, Hearings before Subcommittee #3 of the Committee on Armed Services on H.R. 2581 and H.R 2123, 84th Cong., Ist sess., 5502-07H, p.360; U.S., Congress, House, Committee on Appropriations, Hearings before a subcommittee of the Committee on Appropriations on the 2nd Supplemental Appropriations Bill for 1955, 84th Cong.,1st sess., 5503-03H, p. 325. Memorandum, Joseph E. Robbins to Langley, 30 April 1957, ~1959 Budget Estimates,~ in folder ~September 1956 - April 1957," in Record Group A181-1 "Special Files - Wallops Island," in Langley Research Center Historical Archives. This collection hereafter cited as RGA181-l(S).
50. Shortal, 447-50.
51. Ibid., 387-90.
52. Rip Bulkeley, The Sputniks Crisis and Early United States Space Policy (Indianapolis: Indiana University Press, 1991), 48. Constance McLaughlin Green and Milton Lomask, Vanguard: A History (Washington, D.C.: Smithsonian Institution Press, 1971), 6.
53. Shortal, 251. As NACA committee were populated by people representing many different institutions, the need to assign a NACA employee to represent the organization on its own subordinate committees was common.
54. Bulkeley, 48, 92; Shortal, 252.
55. Hansen, 351-53.
56. Letter, S. I. DeFrance to R. R. Gilruth, 25 April 1958, In folder "Wallops, March - December 58," RGA181-l(C). This file also contains a reply to the letter from H. J. E. Reid. (Shortal notes this letter in a different context on page 669.) For DeFrance's background see: Hartman, 26.
57. Memorandum, Charles B. Rumsey for Floyd L. Thompson, 25 November 1958, in folder "September - December 1958," in RGA181-l(S).
58. Hallion, 14. It should be noted that Ames eventually developed a closer relationship with the High Speed Flight Station at Muroc Dry Lake, though this took time. Unlike the relation between Langley and Wallops, the one a part of the other in a subordinate position, Ames and HSFS were administratively separate until 1981. Indeed Ames lost its flight research program to HSFS in 1959. See also: Hartman, 315.
59. The Rockoon consisted of a Deacon rocket with payload suspended beneath a balloon. Once the balloon reached a given altitude the Deacon ignited and launched. Unfortunately, there was no way to tell in what lateral direction the rocket would fly, 50 it could not be launched anywhere near a populated area. Shortal, 252, 401.
60. Shortal, 401 -3.
61. Ibid., 400, "Funding for most of the upper atmospheric research was provided by the Armed Forces."
62. Ibid., 403.
63. Roland, II: 433. Recall that the Bureau's Harry Wexler chaired the SSUA.
64. Shortal, 459-64. Memorandum, William J. O'Sullivan to Associate Director Headquarters, 12 March 1956, in folder "January - December 1956," in box #4 "Reference Material for the Book Entitled A New Dimension," in WFFRC. This box hereafter cited as Wallops box #4. The Nike-Cajun was an uprated version of the Nike-Deacon.
65. Shortal, 504-7. The Terrapin rocket was a new configuration of the Deacon and a T-55 motor. Memorandum, William J. O'Sullivan for Associate Administrator, 10 January 1956; Memorandum, H. J. E. Reid for NACA Headquarters, 13 January 1956; Memorandum, H. J. E. Reid for NACA Headquarters, 5 March 1956, all in folder "January - December 1956," in Wallops box #4. For the NACA desire for regimented paperwork, a by-product of Executive Secretary John Victory's style, see Hansen, 24, 28-33.
66. Shortal, 220, 369.
67. Ibid., 617.
68. Ibid., 457-58.
69. Ibid., 292.
70. Ibid., 292, 302.
