Excitement and anxiety swarmed the area in good measure, with journalists and Television News reporters all over the developing story like a rash. UFO enthusiasts descended on Saltmoon, erecting a camp on the clifftops out toward Harrow’s Peak. unable to find any evidence of such landings or mysterious sightings, A senior investigator from the Ministry of Defence, stationed at the airbase, speculated to gathered members of the media, the ‘disturbances’ may have been the craftiwork of "a local prankster".

That appeared to be bollocks to anyone with a modicum of intelligence. Officially, it was part of the UK’s Electronic Warfare Division, a listening post tied into the joint US–UK SOSUS programme—a vast underwater network of hydrophones stretching across the Atlantic to track Soviet submarines. The base bristled with antennae and odd radar domes. Trucks rolled in at night under tarpaulins.

To the villagers, that was all it was: a Cold War outpost.

To Ralph, it was clearly a front.

He’d spent many long days in the local library, combing obscure journals and decoding defence budget lines. He believed the SOSUS story to be only “the crust.” Beneath it lay the core—Room 36, a sealed sub-basement chamber “below the lowest of the listening vaults” where the real experiments took place.

Ralph’s subversive theories ranged deep and wide. he suspected The base’s “sound and frequency” arrays weren’t only for tracking submarines. They were also tuned to geomagnetic and Schumann resonances, a global heartbeat of the planet.the airbase was positioned near ancient standing stones and ley-lines; in Ralph’s mind, the placement wasn’t coincidental.

By 1978, Ralph’s obsession had reached a fever pitch. He’d spend nights with Pascal on the cliffs above the base, chalking symbols into the rock and holding up a battered tape recorder to “catch the transmissions.” He said he could hear low, pulsing tones no one else noticed—a kind of subterranean hum.

During hours in the library, he’d stumbled upon the secret space programs of the SS...time machines and other fanciful experiments; most famously ‘Die Glocke’, or 'The Bell'; an anti-gravity programme discovered in the forests of post-war poland. He’d always wanted to visit the site, but life got in the way. it’d been thirty years since wars end and the stays of execution for Werner Von Braun and his cuddly band of Nazi scientists underOperation Paperclip had paid a multitude of dividends; stimulating quantum leaps in US missile and jet propulsion technology; the Saturn project and v2 programme laid the groundwork for modern rocketry. NASA built upon Von Braun’s scientific blueprints, and his compatriots guided the fledgling C.I.A. from conception helping to turn it into the global demonic force of today. The fourth reich had risen and was alive and very well fed in California.

On the surface, with the nazi’s ‘routed’, the military industrial complex, coffers swelled by research funds and arms contracts from paranoid administrations, needed a new enemy - a fresh device with which to sell another fear project. As the 40s rolled over in the ‘50s, reds were firmly under the bed and subsequently under the skin of the public.

Western powers weren’t faking paranoia. With the spoils of war split east/west, they knew only too well what'd been divvied up. Post harvesting of Nazi prototypes, the soviets embarked on secret programs of their own, firing the starter pistol in the great space race and life on the planet would never be the same again.

The romance gripped the west. From Ziggy to A Space Odyssey, cling-ons to the clangers, the prospect of journeying to far off distant worlds spawned a global obsession, tempered by the unnerving prospect of attracting unwanted, potentially ruinous visitors to earth and the era of the alien was born.

As the war ended, secret programs gathered steam and, right on cue, things started to go bump in the night. From ‘42 and the 'Battle of Los Angeles’ to Roswell in ‘47 to the incredible Washington flap in ‘52; UFOs dazzling for consecutive weekends in one of the most extensive and well publicised UFO events on record. The western governments were time-served masters of distraction so with the livestock staring bug-eyed into the heavens, scanning for little green men, black projects rumbled on unscrutinised. If any exotic propulsion systems inadvertently went haywire and buzzed past a block of downtown apartments, or tempted local cops into the forest with multicoloured flashing lights, the swift and strategic deployment of a juicy UFO mystery would be spun out by suits in the military. the local news agencies willingly regurgitating sanctioned press releases into the mouths of an enraptured public, steeped in a cultural pot heavily seasoned with assortedUFO-related bunkum.

Aside from Kubrick and possibly Nixon (what was ‘Watergate’ really about?), who could've even suspected the moon landings staged? At the dawn of the cold war, gullible subjects, hammered by inescapable propaganda, living under the oppressive shadow of the mushroom cloud didn't stand a chance. Von Braun, head of the Apollo programme and ‘respectable’ face of scientific rocketry, guided humanity into a new epoch…the long, dark shadow of his past obscured from history by smoke and mirrors.

It was a remarkable operation of unthinkable magnitude. A mind trick so huge and ‘Goebellesque’ as to fool a shell-shocked generation still picking through the post-war rubble for scraps of hopium. They were ripe for the scam.

Emaciated, malnourished and decimated, the collective stumbled out of the 40s and wandered aimlessly through the 1950s in a trance, silently processing the raw psychological wounds of global conflict. Kinship and humanity itself had been brought into question and the hive became post-traumatically tangled in stories of unthinkable barbarity, cynically weaved into public consciousness by the allied ‘liberators’. The fervour for space travel upsold itself as the new hope…the next bold frontier. An opportunity to look outward, away from the lizard-brained failures of mankind.

Expansions in the occult stratum also took a sharp left-field tack, bringing together an unholy alliance of Aryan supremacists, warped sadists and technical wizardry. Credited with developing key solid-fuel rocket technology, Jack parsons, a brilliant but reckless rocket scientist, founded the jet propulsion laboratory in the 1930s. Some suggested the ‘JP’ in J.P.L. originally stood for Jack Parsons. Curiously, he was branch leader Agape lodge of the Californian O.T.O. and longtime associate of Aleister Crowley.

Though initially a hero to parsons, the appreciation was not mutual; Von Braun labelled Parsons as reckless, a danger to the scientific method. As parsons grew more influential, Von braun became concerned. He understood only too well the volatile potential of fusing megalomaniacal technology with mystical, unseen forces.

From parson’s perspective, the hero-worship quickly faded. Ultimately Von Braun epitomised the straight-jacket of the empirical establishment. Parsons continued practicing increasingly dramatic ‘out-there’ experiments, combining scientific genius with powerful mysticism, firmly believing space travel had a magical, destiny driven component. He famously performed ‘the Babylon working’ out in the Mojave desert, bringing forth entities he couldn’t control into a future he helped destroy. He shared a house with fellow magickal practitioner L. Ron Hubbard, creator of scientology, who legged it with Parson's partner and key occult conspirator.

Alongside hardcore drugs, the house oversaw a dangerous, rudimentary program of rocket science and ritual magic, hosting many physicists and occultists. Parsons later blew himself apart, aged 37, in an ill-fated experiment. The military establishment and shareholders at Caltech had become twitchy about parson’s behaviour and associations. Although theories were sketchy, commentators suggested he was taken out by dark actors in the us government. others hypothesised that terrible demons, conjured and unleashed in the desert, had done for him. Best not to rule anything in or out.

The brain-washed public were duly hypnotised, Flapping helplessly around the eye of a perfectly created storm of machine cultists and black magicians. With the Nazi-inspired era of space exploration underway, the inexorable potential of stepping out into Huxley's brave new world proved irresistible to our masters of war - and they created another beautiful illusion with which to trick humanity.

Ad infinitum.

By ‘79, the strange lights and unexplained sightings near the airbase gave Ralph a new focus. To him, it wasn't a coincidence UFO flaps across the world occurred in close proximity to UK/US air bases. It served as an effective and convenient fairy story, skilfully weaved into the zeitgeist to avoid public gaze. He told anyone who would listen, the rash of UFO sightings wasn’t about aliens visiting Wales —but something being opened under the base. The “silver suits” weren’t extraterrestrial, he claimed, but test personnel in reflective gear to shield them from, as he put it, “resonant field bleed.”

He became convinced the base housed something called Room 36, which he described as “the dimensional aperture.” Villagers reported seeing him late at night in fields, drawing chalk sigils and muttering in Norwegian.

Inside Room 36, he suspected, scientists and military occultists were testing frequency-based consciousness manipulation—using sound and vibration to open “dimensional apertures” or amplify human psychic ability. the reason shit had gone south in Saltmoon over the past year or so.

He called it “the binaural rift.”

Ralph claimed Nazi scientists, absorbed into British intelligence after the war (via Operation Paperclip’s lesser-known European cousin), had already experimented with “acoustic portals” in the 1940s. architects of the third reich were stationed at the British government's top secret research facility at Porton Down, tasked with developing all manner of appalling projects to be road tested on an unwitting herd, up and down dale.  Room 36, he insisted, was the culmination of that work.

He scribbled in his notebooks:

“Saltmoon = perimeter effect. Airbase = aperture. the Welsh Triangle = spillover.”

The phenomenon brought in media from all over the globe and, by the fall of 1979, journalist Clive Harold began investigating and later published The Uninvited (1980), chronicling the sightings and alleged harassment of a local family by mysterious forces. While the book framed the phenomenon as a UFO flap, Ralph read it differently. To him, the Welsh Triangle was not dissociate from Room 36 — it was a symptom.

He believed The Uninvited to be a cover-up in plain sight — a way to make the phenomena look like a classic UFO case, when it was really a classified British–American experiment using Room 36 to contact non-human intelligences via sound and symbol.

Ralph annotated his copy of The Uninvited in the margins, underlining passages about:

• Low humming noises reported before sightings.

• Mysterious men visiting witnesses, a warning them to keep quiet.

• Odd lights and craft appearing near airbases RAF Brawdy and RNAS Dale , installations — both linked to SOSUS operations.

He wrote in the margin: “Clive [Harold] peddles aliens, but he’s a willing accomplice . he works for THEM, The same people under Room 36. our government”

Call me paranoid...