of satellites were visible on the display. “Lieutenant, there is nothing particularly fascinating about this plot. However, if you plot the orbit by looking down directly over the pole you will notice some interesting dynamics taking place. These satellites were designed to stay in orbit for seven years. There is enough maneuvering fuel on board to reposition and provide for station keeping. Now, Sergeant, show a plot of the orbits for the next five years filtering out known deviations, perturbations, precession and known errors without station keeping.”
Lieutenant Sheridan couldn’t believe his eyes. The plot looked like a kid’s Spirograph with lines spiraling off in every direction. “Okay, Sheridan, you’ve seen it. There is not enough steering fuel on board to keep these birds in a polar orbit for four years let alone seven. Clearly there are some forces acting on these satellites that are unseen and unaccounted for in our orbital calculations. They are not random errors. A statistical analysis proves there is a very perceptible left hand twist to these polar orbits. Depending upon altitude, each one of these satellites takes up to a one second degree of left hook on each orbit. At ninety minutes per orbit, this adds up to quite a deviation over a month or two. We can’t afford to keep sending up more hundred million dollar satellites every few years. Thank God, the Russians are even worse off than us.”
“Your job is going to be to figure out what the hell is going on. We’re sending you to the Greenland icecap to find out. Congratulations, Captain Sheridan,” as General Giffen handed Dave his new silver bars.
CHAPTER 3
Greenland
The C-141 Starlifter cargo plane had been in the air for about three hours heading north out of McGuire AFB, New Jersey to Sondrestrom Air Base on the west coast of Greenland. The accommodations weren’t too bad. For the grueling five hour flight, actual passenger seats were clamped onto the aluminum cargo deck in lieu of the cargo net seats. Surprisingly, there were a dozen or so passengers on this flight along with several cargo pallets on their way to the Arctic. As Captain Sheridan grabbed for a cup of coffee, he accidentally dropped it. The hot liquid literally froze to the metal floor before the crew chief could come back with some paper towels to clean it up. The pilot had announced that the outside air temperature was a balmy minus sixty-four degrees.
When he got up to use the six hundred dollar toilet seat, he took the opportunity to look out one of the door windows. He had never been this far north before. Looking above, there was a dark indigo sky without a cloud in sight. Down below, the colors and geography were magnificent and striking. The ocean was majestic blue, the icebergs and ice flows were blinding white, and the black rock cliffs along the fjords gave a foreboding, yet, tranquil appearance.
A couple of hours later, the pilot began his approach up the ninety mile long fjord into Sondrestrom. Glaciers fanned out into the ocean and adjacent fjords for as far as the eye could see. Water in the ice crevasses was a beautiful blue, like someone had poured Aqua Velva aftershave onto the ice.
Dave had studied up on Sondrestrom prior to his departure. What he found was fascinating. Beginning in September of 1941, Sondrestrom Air Base was built under the guidance of the famed Arctic explorer and aviator, Bert Balchen. During World War II, Sondrestrom was known as Bluie West 8 or BW-8, and was an alternate base for the ferrying of aircraft to England. It soon became one of the most important stopover sites for flying missions between the US and Europe, due to the fine flying conditions for which Sondrestrom became known.
The base was laid out on a sandbar near the beginning of the fjord. The fjord was about a mile wide at this point and was surrounded by thousand foot cliffs and mountains with a five hundred foot tall glacier entering the fjord a couple of miles upstream. The massive Greenland icecap, twice the size of Texas, was only twenty miles to the east. Greenland is a Danish Territory. The 50,000 residents, mostly Inuits, were in the process of voting for home rule and independence from Denmark.
It took a great deal of piloting skill to land at Sonde, as it was affectionately called. You had to be specially trained and signed off to make the risky approach and landing. There had been quite a few nasty accidents over the years. As a matter of fact, one of them involved a C-141 in the late summer of 1976. The first third of the runway here has an upslope. During landings, the rest of the runway seems to disappear over the horizon. This optical illusion may have caused the pilot to think he either overshot the runway or that the runway was very short. As a result, after touchdown the pilot evidently decided to go around for another try. During the liftoff the plane over-rotated, developed a nose-high attitude and then stalled. It crashed on the runway, killing seven crew members, and sixteen passengers. The navigator and three passengers survived.
Rumor has it, that the base chef was one of the survivors. He has now been on base for the past nine years, because he absolutely refuses to get on another aircraft.
The Starlifter made a smooth landing on the 12,000 foot runway exactly on schedule at 1100 hours on a balmy spring day in 1985.
An Air Force bus met the passengers at the plane and dropped them off at base operations. Dave was met there by the Base commander, Lieutenant Colonel Dan Snyder. “Welcome to Sondrestrom, Captain. I know this flight is an ass kicker. Let’s get you over to billeting. Your bags will be delivered there shortly.” Snyder drove him over to the Visiting Officers Quarters (VOQ) and walked him up to the desk. “Henry, take care of this young man. Give him a wakeup call for 1400 hours and then run him over to my office.”
Snyder was right. The flight was grueling. He’d been up since 0400 to get ready for the 0600 flight that morning. He took the key from the desk clerk, thanked Snyder and stumbled off to his room. He was surprised at how modern and nice the room was. He had envisioned something between an igloo and Quonset hut. Instead, this reminded him of any Ramada Inn in the States. He took his boots off, flopped on the bed and crashed.
Three hours later, the phone rang. Henry was on the line with his wakeup call and told him that his bags were outside his door. He guessed that they didn’t have to worry about someone running off with your luggage up here. Their getaway route would only be six miles long at the most. That was the longest road in Greenland that ran down to the port. Amazing, the amount of trivia he had already tucked away.
Henry told the Captain that transportation would be waiting in half an hour. He used the time to get cleaned up, put on a fresh uniform, and walk down to the lobby. He was met there by Master Sergeant Andy Caudill. “Good afternoon, Captain. I’m here to drive you to your 1400 meeting. We’ll be stopping by the Danish Hotel on the other side of the base to pick up Dr. Paul Rapp and Dr. Ralph Timken. These gentlemen are doing the ice core drilling out at the DYE-3 site.”
He hopped into the staff car and got the guided tour of the base on their way around the runway to the Danish side of the base. He was surprised by the number of buildings, and warehouses. He was even more surprised to see cabins and bungalows scattered on the sides of the hills. Sergeant Caudill explained that many Danes flew in from Copenhagen to spend the summers here. Also, several Inuits that worked at the base lived here, too.
The Danish Hotel was even more impressive than the VOQ. They walked into the lobby and met Dr. Rapp and Dr. Timken waiting for them. “Hello Captain Sheridan, nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you,” Dr. Rapp said as he shook his hand. This surprised him. He didn’t know he had a reputation, let alone one that preceded him. “Thanks…I hope,” he quipped.
The sergeant interrupted politely and pointed out they were five minutes late for their 1400 meeting. They hopped in the staff car and drove back around to the Air Force side of the base. Along the way, he noticed a huge shaggy looking buffalo critter a hundred yards off the end of the runway. Dave asked, “Is that a musk ox?” The sergeant replied, “Yes, sir. It sure is. Those things are too stupid to know that they are supposed to be extinct. They are all over the place. Have to watch driving at night. And believe me; the nights can be really long up here.”
The car pulled up to the Base Headquarters building. All four men walked up to the front door. Every facility had a cable running between them strung between bollards every fifty feet or so. The sergeant smiled and said, “We use those to find our way home when the wind kicks up and puts us in a whiteout; nice