Each U-2 aircraft arrived at Area 51 from Lockheed’s facility in Burbank in pieces, hidden inside the belly of a C-124 transport plane. The pointy fuselage and long, thin wings were draped in white sheets so no one could get even a glimpse. “In the very beginning, we put Ship One and Ship Two together inside the hangar so nobody saw it before it flew,” recalls Bob Murphy, one of the first Lockheed mechanics on the base. From the moment the CIA began operating their Groom Lake facility, they did so with very strict protocols regarding who had a need-to-know and about what. All elements of the program were divided into sensitive compartmented information, or SCI. “I had no clue what the airplane looked like until it flew directly over my head,” recalls security guard Richard Mingus.
Getting the U-2 operations ready was a dream job for the daring experimental test pilot Ray Goudey. “I learned to fly an airplane before I could drive a car,” Goudey explains. As a teenager, Goudey joined the flying circus and flew with Sammy Mason’s famed Flying Brigade. After the war, he became part of a daredevil flying team called the Hollywood Hawks, where his centrifugal-force-defying outside snap made him a legend. In 1955 he was thirty-three years old and ready to settle down, in relative terms.
Getting Lockheed’s tricky new spy plane ready for the CIA was not a terribly daunting task for a flier like Goudey. Still, the U-2 was an unusual airplane, with wings so long their ends sagged when it sat parked on the tarmac at Groom. To keep its fuel-filled wings from tipping side to side on takeoff, mechanics had to run alongside the airplane as it taxied, sending huge dust clouds up from the lake bed and covering everything in fine sand. The aircraft’s aluminum skin was paper-thin, just 0.02 inches thick, which meant the aircraft was both fragile on the ground and extremely delicate to fly. If a pilot flew the U-2 too slow, the airplane could stall. If he flew too fast, the wings could literally come off. Complicating matters was the fact that what was too slow at one altitude was too fast at another height. The same variable occurred when the weight of the plane changed as it burned up hours of fuel. For these reasons, the original flights made by the test pilots were restricted to a two-hundred-mile radius from the center of Groom Lake. The likelihood of a crash was high, and the CIA needed to be able to keep secure any U-2 wreckage.
“In the beginning, all we did was fly all day long,” Goudey recalls. At Area 51 “we’d sleep, wake up, eat, and fly.” Soon, the base expanded and one hundred more people arrived. Navy Quonset huts were brought in and two additional water wells were dug. Commander Bob Yancey located a pool table and a 16-millimeter film projector in Las Vegas; now the men had entertainment other than stargazing. By September, there were two hundred men on base from three organizational groups: one-third were CIA, one-third were Air Force, and one-third were Lockheed. Everyone had the same goal in mind, which was to get the U-2 to sustain flight at seventy thousand feet. This was a tall order and something no air force in the world had been able to accomplish.
Every Monday Ray Goudey would fly from Burbank to Groom Lake with Lockheed’s gung-ho young mechanic Bob Murphy beside him in the passenger seat. All week, Murphy worked on the U-2’s engine while Goudey worked with the other test pilots to achieve height. The pilots wore specially designed partial-pressure suits, tight like wet suits, with most of the tubing on the outside; it took two flight surgeons to get a pilot into his suit. Pre-breathing pure oxygen was mandatory and took two full hours, which made for a lot of time in a recliner. The process removed nitrogen from the pilot’s bloodstream and reduced the risk of decompression sickness at high altitude.
In those early days at Area 51, history was being laid down and records were being set. “I was the first guy to go up above sixty-five thousand feet, but I wasn’t supposed to be,” Goudey recalls. “Bob Mayte was scheduled to do the first high-altitude flight but he had a problem with his ears. So I went instead.” Which is how Goudey ended up becoming the first pilot to ever reach that altitude and fly there for a sustained amount of time—a remarkable fact noted in the Lockheed record books and yet kept from the rest of the world until 1998, when the U-2 program was finally declassified. Goudey explains what the view was like at sixty-five thousand feet: “From where I was up above Nevada I could see the Pacific Ocean, which was three hundred miles away.”