CORONA The Worlds First Satellite Reconnaissance System In August of 1960 the CIA launched and recovered the exposed film package from the first orbiting photographic satellite. It was Mission 9009, launched and recovered on 18 August. The picture on the left is the first intelligence target photographed. The camera, in the single orbit it made around the world, photographed more of the Soviet Union than all of the previous U-2 missions flown. Prior to this mission eight other previous missions had ended in failure. The ninth was a success. The United States now had a camera system that could not be shot down as the U-2 was on May 1, 1960. With this intelligence tool the Cold War was never the same again. The Soviet Union was now an open book. From that time forward the Intelligence Community would know the location of every significant weapons system deployed by the Soviets. There would be no more “missile gap” or “bomber gap.” In November of 1962 I was hired by the Naval Photographic Interpretation Center, located in Suitland, Maryland. When my Top Secret, Codeword, clearances were completed several months later, I joined the National Photographic Interpretation Center (NPIC) in the Washington Navy Yard. It was NPIC (run by CIA) that was responsible for the interpretation of photography from CORONA. My job was an Imagery Analyst, commonly referred to as a P.I. or Photo Interpreter. On the 50 Yard Line of History Exploitation of CORONA Imagery in the 1960s Thomas N. Farrell Senior Imagery Analyst Defense Intelligence Agency, Retired Chapter One - June 1963 The long awaited day had arrived. My security clearance was approved. No more card games between classes, no more classes on the Soviet Union, on briefing, writing and research techniques. Almost eight months of “make work” was ended. It had been more than seven months since I had been hired by the Navy Photographic Interpretation Center (NPIC) in Suitland, Maryland to fill a vacancy in the Special Activities’ Unit. The past five months had been spent working at the Suitland, Maryland facility, tracking Soviet deck cargos on merchant ships sailing to Cuba. Four months after the Cuban Missile Crisis, Cuba was still a top priority in the intelligence community. My special clearance had been completed in March of 1963, but because the unit I had been hired for had been taken over by the newly-formed Defense Intelligence Agency (DIA) the clearance was not finalized. The Navy, knowing that DIA would take me along with the Special Activities’ Unit, decided not to sign off on my newly completed security clearance. To sign off would mean the Navy would have to pay for the clearance. Not only did the Navy PIC lose me to DIA, they also lost their name. The Naval Photographic Interpretation Center (NPIC) had to give up the acronym “NPIC” to the newly organized National Photographic Interpretation Center. The word “Naval” in “NPIC” was replaced with the word “National.” As a national level organization, NPIC had first choice on the acronym “NPIC.” DIA started a new clearance. The Navy - wanting to get rid of me completely - talked the CIA into placing me in their training unit for Agency employees awaiting clearance for building 213. My move to 213 meant I would miss my work with Phil Frank, Mel Guss, and the center’s commanding officer, Captain Dietz. What I wouldn’t miss was the long drive from Spring Hill Lake in Greenbelt to Suitland. My new location, Building 213, was a remodeled warehouse located in the Washington Navy Yard at 1st and “M” Street S.E., and it was much closer to home. Very few people knew what went on in Building 213. The name, National Photographic Interpretation Center was classified Confidential. In the early 1960s CIA’s reconnaissance programs matched the WW II Manhattan Project in terms of security level and need-to-know. I was aware of this, but little did I know how exciting the next 13 years would be! It was said by those in charge of our organization that, “we had a seat on the 50-yard line of history.” And truly it was. By mid June, when the second clearance was completed, I made the rounds of various offices in the Pentagon. At each one, I read indoctrination documents for the series of special codeword clearances I had been granted, then I signed the agreement of understanding that accompanied each one. As I finished the last one in Building 213's Security office, I became one of a very select group in government service. I was now a member of Art Lundahl’s National Photographic Interpretation Center (NPIC). I was at the top of my career field working at the National Level in the intelligence community, eight years after joining the federal government as a GS-2 photo lab technician working in the U.S. Forest Service’s photo lab. Art had made a name for himself and his photographic interpretation organization during the Cuban Missile Crisis. I -- as a photo interpreter with six plus years in writing photographic interpretation keys (training manuals) -- welcomed the opportunity to join an elite organization and help build on NPIC’s reputation. Building 213 was a new facility the year I joined. NPIC had moved out of the old Stewart building located at 5th and New York Avenue, N.E. on January 1st 1963 -- a cold, snowy New Years day. While I had been hired the past November to be a part of the organization, I was still in processing and did not take part in the move. A friend from Baltimore had spent New Year’s Eve with Beth (my wife) and me, and he was scheduled to help his unit move. Lou was not in the best shape for a move that day, and I was glad I didn’t have to go. (The Stewart building was demolished in 1995 and replaced by a multistory hotel. I was in Washington, attending a meeting and staying at The Renaissance Hotel just two blocks away. Looking back, I’m sorry I didn’t go over and salvage a brick or two from that historical site. So much went on in that building, and so few outside the building knew anything about it.) NPIC’s early years in 213 were the most interesting years in my government career. The organization had just come off the most successful operation in its short history, that of the Cuban Missile Crisis. Art Lundahl was at the top of his career, having daily briefed President Kennedy on all aspects of the Soviet missile deployment in Cuba. The replacement for the U-2 which had been downed over the Soviet Union on May 1, 1960 (the CORONA satellite reconnaissance system) was just about to become operational and NPIC was gearing up to take advantage of a new facility and increasing staffing levels to handle the expected workload. I was never a part of the Stewart building cadre, but I heard many stories about the rough neighborhood, parking problems, poor working conditions and the like. In my short career I had also worked in some buildings that offered little in the way of comfort. Building 213, however, was designed from scratch for photographic intelligence exploitation. It was state of the art for the early 1960s with the latest computers, briefing equipment, and office furniture. It was equipped for crisis situations where 24 hour shifts could work comfortably. I would come to appreciate this in future years. A 20-hour day was not unusual during some of the crisis periods. Nor was it unusual to receive a phone call at 3:00 am to come in to work on a newly-arrived mission. My assignment when I was brought on board was in the Southeast Asia Section, supervised by Major Walt Lindsey. It was under the Geographic Division, headed by Clayton Dalrymple. “Dal” was the Navy PIC member that interviewed me for the job. He had been taken over by DIA at the same time they picked me up. As I learned much later, I was the first new hire for DIA. All the other DIA employees were taken over as other military units were absorbed by DIA. The Imagery Exploitation Group, under Colonel Lew Allen, was located in a vaulted area on the third floor. All the units in the building were vaulted. No windows in the building. One could work around the clock and never know what the weather was like, or if it was day or night. Major Walt Lindsey picked me up in the Security Office, welcomed me to the unit and took me for a tour of the group. I was introduced to a number of P.I.’s, their supervisors, and other support people. Some of the individuals I knew from previous employment in the Forest Service Photo Interpretation Keys project. These people had dropped out of sight after they left the Forest Service. I did not know at the time that the CIA recruited them for the newly-formed U-2 Project. I had an offer to go with CIA in the late 1950s, but when faced with the 16 page personal history statement that was required before they would talk to you was too much for a young, single male in D.C. I didn’t have the time or the desire to go to that much trouble for another job, besides I was happy doing what I was doing with the Forest Service. A mission, the first KH-4, (KH-4 9054) had arrived that week and people were clustered around light tables reading out the photography. I was shown various high priority targets as we moved between light tables and in and out of the various sections in the Scientific & Technical Division (S&T). My first impression of the satellite photography was ‘how can anyone get anything of value from coverage at that small scale?’ My work in the past with the Air Force and Army Keys Divisions had involved working with photos with scales of 1:1800 or less. An image of a tank on such photography would show the smallest detail because the image was almost a half inch long. We could identify military equipment by nomenclature, i.e. T-54 Medium Tank, PT-76 Amphibious Tank, SU-100 Assault Gun, etc. On the early CORONA photography equipment just showed up as dots. I learned later that my unique perspective in terms of working with large scale photography would allow me to identify images on the smaller scale photography. My other co-workers had been involved with the U-2 coverage which had scales in the 1:20,000 range. At this scale it was difficult to differentiate types of equipment within the classes, i.e. tanks, artillery, etc. The S&T Division was headed by Art Stevens. Art became a good friend during my years at NPIC and, after my early retirement, we corresponded until his death in 1996. Art was a stickler for dress codes. He was a retired Army Major and he believed in a professional image for the photo interpreters. Ties and white shirts were required during conventional working hours. Most of us photo interpreters however, believed that overtime and weekends should be more relaxed. I remember an incident one Saturday working a Cuban mission that almost put Art into orbit. Art was the senior group member present in the vault and we had made a discovery that required a cable be sent to other elements in the intelligence community. Art had to sign off on the cable. When the cable was completed the individual that had to take it to him for signature realized he was not wearing a tie. No one else in the room had a tie, so it was decided we would make a tie out of a piece of cardboard and scotch tape it to his sport shirt. Needless to say it was not received in the spirit intended! The Geographic Division and the S&T Division had a friendly rivalry going (S&T looked down on the Geographic Division). In their opinion S&T thought they had the most important targets - missiles, nuclear weapons, industrial facilities and the like. The Geographic Division was responsible for country coverage and we justly thought our job was equally important. Our job was to scan all the coverage after the technical people had finished the high priority targets. We reported on the lower priority targets in the database. We also identified new ones which were written up and added to the database. It was the new targets that were the important part of the job. The areas of interest we were photographing had not been under observation for a long time. The coverage that the U-2 provided was very limited. For example, the first successful CORONA KH-1 mission (9009) on August 18, 1960, covered more area in one mission than all of the U-2 coverage flown prior to the shoot-down in 1960, and it only orbited the earth once before being recovered  The project managers were not out to set records in orbiting the earth.  Success for this mission was, get the thing in the air, take some pictures, and successfully recover the film.  That goal was achieved!