Since I was a young child Mars held a special fascination for me. It was so close and yet so faraway. I have never doubted that it once had advanced life and still has remnants of that life now. I am a dedicated member of the Mars Society,Norcal Mars Society National Space Society, Planetary Society, And the SETI Institute. I am a supporter of Explore Mars, Inc. I'm a great admirer of Elon Musk and SpaceX. I have a strong feeling that Space X will send a human to Mars first.
Thursday, December 4, 2025
Wednesday, December 3, 2025
A Big Win For European Space
ministerial
Ministers from ESA’s member states gather in Bremen, Germany, November 26 to debate agency funding levels for the next three years. (credit: ESA/Ph. Servent)
A big win for European space
by Jeff Foust
Monday, December 1, 2025
It turns out there can be a little too much European unity in space.
During last week’s European Space Agency ministerial conference in Bremen, Germany, ESA officials passed out a book titled Elevation highlighting the agency’s long-term strategy and various programs intended to implement that strategy—programs that ESA was seeking funding for at the ministerial. Rather than just distribute a PDF or other electronic document, Elevation was a hardcover book lavishly illustrated with images of those programs.
Thumbing through one copy of the book left in the media room at the ministerial showed a problem. A production error—apparently limited to that one copy—meant that the pages in that copy were not properly trimmed and bound. Some pages, as a result, were effectively stuck together.
While other nations scale up space investments, one official said, “Europe risks falling behind, not because of lack of expertise but because of insufficient and fragmented investment.”
The production of the book showed the lengths ESA was going to make its case for a larger budget. Every three years, the ministers representing ESA’s 23 full member states, along with several associate and cooperating nations, meet to decide on funding levels for agency programs. At the previous ministerial, in Paris in November 2022, ESA sought €18.5 billion and got its members to agree to €16.9 billion (see “For ESA, a good enough budget”, The Space Review, November 28, 2022).
At that 2022 ministerial, ESA was already seeing the effects of geopolitical forces, as Russia’s invasion of Ukraine earlier that year ended cooperation between the agencies except for the International Space Station. Europe lost access to Russia’s Soyuz rocket that was launching from French Guiana, a precursor to the “launcher crisis” that, for a time, deprived Europe of independent access to space. It also upended the Rosalind Franklin rover mission to Mars, which was to launch on a Russian rocket using a Russian landing platform.
Those forces only grew since the Paris ministerial. In the last year, uncertainty about the relationship with the United States under the Trump administration, including proposed major cuts to NASA that would affect cooperation with Europe in science and exploration programs, led ESA to enhance cooperation with other countries while seeking to build up its own capabilities.
“We have a paradigm shift,” said Alberto Maulu, manager for technologies at the Luxembourg Space Agency, during a panel at Space Tech Expo Europe, a conference held a week before the ministerial in the same convention center in Bremen. “Resilience, security, European independence is now what’s driving at the institutional level and also at the commercial level.”
“Europe seems to be losing ground,” with its share of the global space economy shrinking, said Craig Brown, investment director at the UK Space Agency, during the same panel. The ministerial, he argued, “is perhaps an opportunity for us to think about how we do things differently.”
There was the perception that Europe was falling behind the United States, China, and others in space. ESA officials and others would routinely compare the much larger amount of government space spending in the US versus Europe, using that as an argument that Europe should up its game.
“Other global actors, such as the United States, China and India, but also Japan and Russia, are scaling up their investments, including in dual-use space capabilities,” one official, speaking on background, said a couple weeks before the ministerial. “Meanwhile, Europe risks falling behind, not because of lack of expertise but because of insufficient and fragmented investment.”
The ministerial, that official concluded, was a “decision point” for Europe’s future in space.
ESA spent the better part of two years developing its package of programs for the ministerial. About 20% of its budget is for “mandatory” activities, primarily science, where members contribute based on the sizes of their economies. But the rest consists of optional programs that countries can choose to fund, or not fund, with the expectation that their contributions would result in a proportional share of contracts to their nations’ companies—the “georeturn” principle.
“When Europe unites, Europe succeeds,” Aschbacher concluded.
ESA director general Josef Aschbacher formally presented the agency’s proposal, with a total value of €22.254 billion ($25.8 billion), as the ministerial formally started last Wednesday. It was time for Europe to come together on space and increase investment on ESA programs rather than just increase spending on national-level programs, as some countries have done.
“We face a perfect storm, a perfect storm that demands courageous decisions,” he said. “Do we truly believe that these crises are only temporary disruptions, and do we really want to retreat to narrow, exclusively national solutions that may feel simpler but leave us all weaker?”
“When Europe unites, Europe succeeds,” he concluded.
ministerial
Josef Aschbacher, ESA’s director general, presents his proposed budget at the ministerial conference November 26. (credit: ESA/S. Corvaja)
Security focus
Much of the package involved funding of ongoing programs in space transportation, navigation, Earth observation, and more. But there were some new efforts, like programs in ESA’s human and robotic exploration department to develop a lunar cargo lander, Argonaut, that could support later Artemis missions while giving ESA an opportunity to barter those services for seats on Artemis landing missions.
ESA also requested funding for the European Launcher Challenge, a program to promote the development of new launch vehicles. In a break with its traditional georeturn approach, ESA “preselected” five companies in the summer—Isar Aerospace, MaiaSpace, Orbex, PLD Space, and Rocket Factory Augsburg—earlier in the year, allowing countries to decide which companies to support.
But perhaps the biggest change in ESA’s proposal was the addition of a new effort called European Resilience from Space (ERS), which marked the civil agency’s move into defense and security. ESA announced earlier this year that its member states asked the agency to develop a proposal for ERS to develop space capabilities that could serve civil and defense needs.
The heart of ERS is starting work on a constellation of optical and radar imaging satellites for surveillance. The goal is a constellation that can provide a revisit time of about 30 minutes, far better than existing European national systems can provide. Production of the constellation would come in a second phase, funded by ESA and the European Commission starting in 2028, but the request for the 2025 ESA ministerial would support development of prototypes that could launch by 2028.
“The ministerial should be about strategic autonomy,” Wachowicz said. “It should be more security driven.”
ERS would also include funding to advance a low Earth orbit navigation satellite constellation intended to augment the existing Galileo system in medium Earth orbit. It would also support IRIS², the European secure connectivity constellation.
ERS stemmed from European concerns about Russia as well as a desire to reduce reliance on American systems. “Poland will advocate for a European approach to space security that treats satellites, launch capabilities and ground systems as critical assets,” said Marta Wachowicz, president of the Polish space agency POLSA, during the Space Tech Expo Europe panel.
“The ministerial should be about strategic autonomy,” she said. “It should be more security driven.”
ERS raised some issues within Europe about the role ESA, a civil space agency, should be playing in defense programs. The ESA Convention, the 50-year-old document that forms the foundation of the agency, states that ESA will work on space programs for “exclusively peaceful purposes.”
“We are a space agency, and space, as you know, is dual use by nature,” Aschbacher told reporters the day before the ministerial. He noted that many ESA programs, from launch vehicles to navigation satellites, have applications for defense as well as civil and commercial uses.
“We had a very deep discussion with our member states,” he said, “to clarify exactly the role of ESA and how much ESA can or cannot work in the defense domain. This was a very profound discussion and a very profound deliberation.”
Renato Krpoun, chair of the ESA Council, confirmed that ESA members concluded that the agency could be involved in defense activities, but “nothing aggressive.”
Whatever ESA develops, he said, will be operated by someone else, either the European Commission or national governments. “ESA is not the agency that will operate these systems. We can prepare it, but we should not operate it.”
ministerial
Aschbacher (center) discusses the outcome of the ministerial November 27 with Italian minister Adolfo Urso (left) and German minister Dorothee Bär. (credit: ESA/Ph. Servent)
“Outstanding” outcome
After Aschbacher gave his speech about the agency’s proposal at the ministerial Wednesday, the ministers representing ESA’s members got to give brief opening statements.
Most stated their intent to support the package, at least broadly, and back up those words euros. Spain’s science minister, Diana Morant, said her country would increase its 2022 contribution by 50% in 2025, citing “how strategically important space is and the importance of our work through ESA.”
“We have to evolve. Europe has to undergo significant reform,” said Baptiste. “It has to give up its pipe dreams, starting with georeturn.”
Canada—not a full ESA member but instead a “cooperating state” that has worked on ESA programs for decades—offered an even bigger increase. Lisa Campbell, president of the Canadian Space Agency, confirmed comments a week earlier from the country’s industry minister, Mélanie Joly, that the country would make a massive increase in spending on ESA programs.
Canada, which provided €98 million in 2022, was now committing €407.7 million. “This investment will enable our country to contribute to important ESA missions directly benefiting Canadian industry and allowing it to grow and diversify,” Campbell said.
A couple countries, though, said they wanted to increase their spending but could not fully commit to it at the ministerial. The Dutch minister of economic affairs, Vincent Karremans, said the Netherlands planned to increase its ESA spending by 25%, or €110 million, but since the country currently has a “caretaker government” it could not formally commit to that increase until as late as the end of January.
Belgium also asked for an extension for its contribution. “Belgium has decided to make a particular and an exceptional budget effort in the context of this ministerial council. However, I do require a bit more time to make that additional contribution official,” said Vanessa Matz, minister of modernization of the public administration.
The closest thing to criticism came from France. “We have to evolve. Europe has to undergo significant reform,” said Philippe Baptiste, the country’s minister of higher education, research, and space. “It has to give up its pipe dreams, starting with georeturn.”
Once all the countries, and several observers like the European Commission, completed their opening statements, the ministerial went into closed-door negotiations. That featured several rounds where member states could subscribe to the various optional programs, with negotiations between the rounds,
Aschbacher, talking to reporters at the end of the day Wednesday, offered few specifics about the negotiations but sounded upbeat. “There are some countries who are putting a little more in the beginning, and some others a bit less at the beginning,” he said of the ongoing subscriptions.
“The mood is very positive,” he added. “There is a very good spirit, and I think we are on a very good track. But I don’t want to speculate on what comes out tomorrow.”
Those discussions continued until early Thursday afternoon, when ESA discussed the results. Out of a request of €22.254 billion, ESA members provided €22.067 billion.
Aschbacher, who told reporters just before the ministerial that anything “above 20 billion will be considered a good success,” declared victory.
“This is quite outstanding,” he said at a press conference where ESA announced the results. “It’s the first time, according to my recollection of years in ESA, that we have reached almost the level that the director general has proposed to the member states. This has never happened before.”
“I think this message of Europe needing to catch up and to step up and literally elevate the future of Europe through space has been taken by our ministers very seriously,” Aschbacher said.
While ESA got 99% of its topline budget request, the results varied among various programs. Some, such as in space transportation and navigation, were oversubscribed, getting more money than requested. That include the European Launcher Challenge, where ESA had requested less than €500 million but ended up securing more than €900 million. All five companies would get significant funding in the form of launch contracts or awards to fund development of larger vehicles.
Science, a mandatory program, also got an increase that will exceed the rate of inflation for the first time in several years. “We are leveling up with the science program,” Aschbacher said, saying it would support missions in development as well as new concepts, like a lander mission to Saturn’s moon Enceladus—an icy world with a subsurface ocean—that requires preparatory work now even though the mission will not launch until the 2040s.
However, human and robotic exploration, which includes programs ranging from the International Space Station to Mars Sample Return, fell short of its goal by about 20%, with just under €3 billion committed.
It wasn’t clear why member states did not support exploration as enthusiastically as it did other programs, and Aschbacher said it was too early to say what specific programs might be affected. ESA said later that programs like Argonaut and an initiative to develop European cargo spacecraft were funded.
Just before the press conference, Aschbacher stood outside the main meeting room for the ministerial with the ministers representing France, Germany, and Italy. He announced that astronauts from those three countries would get ESA’s three current seats on Artemis missions to the lunar Gateway, with a German astronaut going first.
One question mark at the end of the ministerial was the funding for ERS. In the budget proposal released Wednesday, ESA said it was seeking €1.35 billion for ERS, but the funding results it released at the press conference did not mention how much funding the agency secured for ERS.
Aschbacher said that the numbers presented had folded ERS funding into ESA’s existing budget lines for Earth observation, navigation, and communications. However, he and other officials said members had provided significant funding for ERS, including an oversubscription for initial phases of the work on the imaging constellation.
Despite the uncertainties on some programs, Aschbacher said he was pleased with what came out of the ministerial, as ESA members delivered on the call for unity in space. “I think this message of Europe needing to catch up and to step up and literally elevate the future of Europe through space has been taken by our ministers very seriously.”
Jeff Foust (jeff@thespacereview.com) is the editor and publisher of The Space Review, and a senior staff writer with SpaceNews. He also operates the Spacetoday.net web site. Views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author alone.
The Death Of A Russian AST Plane
Falcon Echelon
On the night of November 24, Ukraine launched an attack on a Russian airfield, damaging aircraft maintenance facilities and destroying two aircraft, including the A-60 aircraft equipped with an experimental laser ASAT system. The plane is identifiable by the structure atop the fuselage aft of the wing. (credit: Russian internet)
Burning Falcon: the death of a Russian laser ASAT plane
by Dwayne A. Day
Monday, December 1, 2025
In the darkness of the early morning of November 25, Ukrainian drones and missiles hit the Russian Taganrog airbase. Russian social media soon lit up with videos of the attack, including an intriguing one showing a missile exploding above a large, oddly-shaped airplane. By early in the day on November 25, commercial satellite photos of the airbase became available, showing what many observers already suspected—that one of the airplanes destroyed at the base was a retired laser testbed, apparently for developing systems for attacking American satellites. Named “Falcon Echelon,” it is now a pile of rubble. But its mysteries remain.
Falcon Echelon
The night of the attack, the NASA FIRMS infrared sensor showed infrared events at the Taganrog airfield, later confirmed by satellite images. (credit: NASA)
Popping balloons
In the very early 1980s, CIA analysts at the agency’s headquarters outside of Washington received an odd bit of intelligence. According to a former analyst, a Russian who emigrated to Israel had reported on a new aircraft that the Soviet Union was developing. It was a modified Il-76 transport aircraft equipped with a laser to shoot down American “spy balloons”.
The Russians had an active laser weapon development program, as did the United States. What surprised the analysts was that they were unaware of any American “spy balloons” for the Soviets to shoot at.
The aircraft, which was designated the Beriev A-60, was an awkward-looking bird featuring a bulbous nose and several other large bulges to the fuselage.
It is possible that the information was compartmented and the CIA analysts didn’t have the need to know about it. The United States had certainly flown reconnaissance balloons over the Soviet Union in the 1950s and apparently had a program to disguise signals intelligence receivers as weather balloon equipment during the 1960s. But the émigré’s story did not make sense in the early 1980s, long after the programs were supposedly discontinued (see “The truth is up there: American spy balloons during the Cold War,” The Space Review, April 17, 2023.)
A few years later, the CIA, checking periodic imagery of the airfield where the aircraft was based, saw that it had burned up. Analysts reviewing the evidence concluded that there had probably been an accident involving the reactive chemicals used in the gas-dynamic laser. It would be many years before they learned the truth. A second aircraft was converted, but it was not finished until the early 1990s and was placed in storage without starting test flights.
Falcon Echelon
The badge for the SOKOL-ESHELON project, which shows a lightning bolt striking what looks like the Hubble Space Telescope, symbolizing an American reconnaissance satellite, and making it go dark over Russian territory. (credit: Russian internet)
Misshapen Falcon
By the 2000s, the Russians began flight testing a converted Il-76 transport aircraft equipped with an onboard laser. Painted on the side of the aircraft were the words “SOKOL-ESHELON,” which translate to “Falcon Echelon”, and an image of the Hubble Space Telescope being zapped by a lightning bolt and going dark over Russian territory.
The aircraft, which was designated the Beriev A-60, was an awkward-looking bird featuring a bulbous nose and several other large bulges to the fuselage. Although some reports stated that the nose housed a tracking laser in a turret, like the US Air Force’s 747-based Airborne Laser, close up photographs of the nose revealed no openings or indications that it rotated to expose a laser emitter. A December 2010 Russian article indicated that this was a “Ladoga-3” radar for detecting aerial targets. Two bulges on either side of the lower fuselage reportedly housed auxiliary power unit generators for the laser. A large bulge on the upper back of the aircraft, which was not easily visible in photos from the ground, was apparently a sliding port for a one-megawatt laser turret. The laser was clearly intended to fire upwards, at something above the plane, rather than to the sides or down, to engage ground targets or other aircraft. It apparently had an effective range of 300 to 600 kilometers. It was that distinctive bulge on the upper side of the plane that quickly led observers to believe that it was this aircraft that was blown up in the Ukrainian attack.
Falcon Echelon
The A-60 was equipped with a tracking radar in the nose. The plane was parked for a long time before it was destroyed. (source)
The first Russian airborne laser aircraft, the one spotted by the CIA and later destroyed by fire in the 1980s and designated LL1A, had a somewhat stereotypically Russian demise.
Although a Russian artist chose to paint the Hubble on the plane, it was clearly meant to symbolize an American reconnaissance satellite. The satellite’s path indicated a polar orbit that goes black over Russian territory—the obvious implication being that the laser was intended to blind or otherwise disable American surveillance satellites over Russia.
It is likely that this was somewhat fanciful and that Falcon Echelon was a test program and not an operational laser system.
Falcon Echelon
Internal cutaway of the modified Il-76 aircraft. This depicts the first laser test system, which was destroyed in a fire in the late 1980s. Another airplane was converted in the late 1980s and was the one destroyed in 2025. (credit: Russian internet)
Cold War origins
The original airborne laser program was started in 1977 and used a modified IL-76(MD) aircraft renamed the Beriev A-60 for the Beriev aircraft company that modified the airframe. The first aircraft was designated 1A and first took flight on August 19, 1981. The second aircraft, designated 1A2, did not fly until August 29, 1991. According to Pavel Podvig, a researcher on Russian strategic weapons systems, the project was originally called Dreif (“Drift”).
The first aircraft began laser tests against airborne targets in late 1983–1984 and fired against high-altitude balloons at 30 to 40 kilometers altitude. The plane later was used to attack an airborne La-17 drone aircraft.
Falcon Echelon
The A-60 was a modified Il-76 transport plane. (source)
The first Russian airborne laser aircraft, the one spotted by the CIA and later destroyed by fire in the 1980s and designated LL1A, had a somewhat stereotypically Russian demise. No James Bond snuck onto a military installation late at night and planted plastic explosives to destroy a Soviet superweapon. Instead, it was a story that is all too Russian. According to one account, the aircraft was being prepped for flight. Early one morning two technicians snuck out to the aircraft to siphon alcohol out of its de-icing system so that they could party. This is not exactly news—MiG pilot defector Viktor Belenchko discussed this practice in the 1980 book MiG Pilot and noted how it was common for enlisted personnel to suffer alcohol poisoning from drinking the nearly toxic brew that was used in aircraft de-icing systems. But the system was pressurized, and while the men were in the plane they somehow started a fire. They jumped out, closed the hatch, and ran away. When a fire crew finally showed up, the firemen did not have permission to open the hatch on the secret aircraft to get inside with their fire hoses. Unfortunately, the aircraft apparently exploded on the ground, killing one person. The airplane was lost, and later photographed by American reconnaissance satellites.
A second aircraft, designated LL1A2, was built and first flew in 1991, but the program was ended by 1993. The aircraft was preserved for another decade before being called into service.
Falcon Echelon
The modifications to the aircraft included a hump behind the wing for the laser aperture. (source)
Laser sword
The Russian military started the SOKOL-ESHELON program in 2002. NPO Almaz was the prime contractor. The Chemical Automatics Design Bureau (KBKhA) in Voronezh started development of the laser system. Russian language articles about SOKOL-ESHELON referred to it as being in the “OKR” or “Experimental Design Work” stage, a well-established R&D category that follows “NIR”, “Scientific Research Work.” One of the subcontracts let under SOKOL-ESHELON is for a precision system for imaging “exoatmospheric objects”, which tends to support the ASAT application theory that was confirmed by the satellite on the aircraft’s emblem.
Falcon Echelon
The logo on the aircraft indicating that its intended target was an American satellite. (source)
Test flights of the LL1A2 aircraft started in the second half of the decade. On August 28, 2009, the aircraft fired a laser at Ajisaj, a Japanese geodetic satellite equipped with reflectors, making it a good target for a test.
By 2011, a new Il-76 aircraft was ordered to continue tests. It was built in 2014 and delivered to the Ministry of Defense in 2015. According to Russian space analyst and historian Bart Hendrickx, who kept track of the program by searching for obscure Russian military procurement documents, SOKOL-ESHELON continued throughout the 2010s, but remained an experimental test program during this time, not transitioning into an operational weapon system. The older LL1A2 aircraft was to be a test aircraft, with the newer modified Il-76 intended to carry an operational laser. One illustration emerged allegedly of this third aircraft modified with a bulbous structure mounted behind the cockpit, apparently the aperture for the upward-shooting laser. This was different than the rear-mounted laser aperture on the LL1A2 aircraft.
Rather than destroy satellites, it was intended to “dazzle” or blind them. Dazzling means obstructing their optical sensors, like somebody shining a flashlight in your eyes at night. Blinding involves permanently destroying the optical sensor. Significant information on the LL1A2 aircraft, including an internal cutaway of what was apparently the preliminary design, is on a Russian website.
The program gathered a lot of media attention in Russia, but not all of it positive. One article referred to it as “pointless and not so ruthless.” Although the Beriev A-60 was photographed in flight and the Russian media reported on several test successes, by 2011 it was photographed by amateur military buffs, looking slightly weather-beaten. It was parked at an unguarded location.
Falcon Echelon
The A-60 parked at the location where it was destroyed in November 2025. (source)
By 2015, the aircraft was parked at a location at Taganrog near the end of an apron and outside of a large maintenance building. According to Google Earth photos, it sat there for the next ten years, occasionally moved to another spot before moving back, but apparently never leaving the airport or the ground. The last flight was apparently in 2016. There it sat, until Ukraine blew it up last week.
By 2020, SOKOL-ESHELON was apparently canceled. As Hendrickx noted in 2022, the decision to terminate the program was made in 2017, but it took another three years to actually terminate it, with some minor experiments still taking place. There were plans to remove equipment from the LL1A2 aircraft, but no indications that this ever occurred.
Falcon Echelon
TThe A-60 was tested in the later 2000s. Its last flight was apparently in 2016. It is unclear why Ukraine targeted it. (credit: Russian internet)
Russia has long had ground-based laser programs. During the Cold War they were based at a sprawling missile test complex at Sary Shagan, in Kazakhstan. Even by the mid-1970s the CIA undertook a project called LAZY CAT to put a telescope with a laser detection sensor on an Iranian mountaintop to detect the reflection of lasers fired at satellites over Sary Shagan (see “Lazy Cat on a mountaintop,” The Space Review, April 29, 2024.)
The attack on the A-60 is puzzling. The aircraft was no longer in use. Even if the laser equipment was stripped out, it is unlikely the plane would have had much military value as a transport.
Russia was also pursuing development of a ground-based laser ASAT system. Peresvet and Kalina are ground-based laser dazzling systems, with Peresvet apparently now operational (see “Peresvet: a Russian mobile laser system to dazzle enemy satellites,” The Space Review, June 15, 2020, and “Kalina: a Russian ground-based laser to dazzle imaging satellites,” The Space Review, July 5, 2022.)
Falcon Echelon
Falcon Echelon
Planet satellite photos showing the airfield before and after the attack. The A-60 and an Il-76 modified as a radar plane were destroyed. Surprisingly, the Tu-95 Bear bomber was not attacked. (credit: Planet, via Intelligentia Geosptialis)
A mysterious target
The Ukrainian attack destroyed the A-60 and another aircraft nearby designated A-100. The A-100 was an experimental airborne warning and control aircraft that had apparently not achieved much success. Nearby a Tu-95 Bear bomber remained unscathed. Additional Ukrainian missiles hit part of an aircraft maintenance building. According to a Ukrainian report, an important target inside that building was hit.
The attack on the A-60, and to lesser extent, the A-100, is puzzling. The aircraft was no longer in use. Even if the laser equipment was stripped out, it is unlikely the plane would have had much military value as a transport, because it would have required substantial structural modification. The Bear would have been a more significant target because that type of aircraft is involved in launching missiles at Ukraine, and Ukraine destroyed several of them in a daring raid in June. Perhaps another aircraft was parked nearby earlier in the day and moved before the nighttime attack. Perhaps at some point the Ukrainian military will reveal why the plane was targeted.
Special thanks to Bart Hendrickx.
Dwayne Day can be reached at zirconic1@cox.net.
Mapping The Dark Side Of The World
ARGON
A HEXAGON Mapping Camera image of Thailand, taken in 1976. (credit: Via Harry Stranger)
Mapping the dark side of the world (part 3): Replacing ARGON, the SAMOS E-4, and mapping the Moon
by Dwayne A. Day
Monday, December 1, 2025
Throughout the early 1960s, there was a constant bureaucratic turf battle over which service would control satellite mapping. While ARGON was in development and beginning launches, the Air Force was trying to produce a follow-on system, in the hopes that it would succeed ARGON and eventually push out the Army, which had a lead role in ARGON in cooperation with the CIA, and place the Air Force in overall charge of mapping and geodesy from space. The CIA’s position was primarily that mapping requirements should not interfere with gathering reconnaissance photos. By the second half of the decade, these arguments would result in compromises that ultimately led to the DISIC camera system, which also eventually made it to the Moon (see “Mapping the dark side of the world (part 1): the KH-5 ARGON geodetic satellite,” The Space Review, November 17, 2025).
ARGON
Launch of the seventh ARGON mission in October 1962. (credit: Peter Hunter)
The SAMOS E-4
The Air Force had first defined the requirement for a mapping and charting satellite in September 1958. By January 1959, the Air Force refined this into a proposal for a recoverable mapping satellite capable of taking pictures with high geometric fidelity. The Air Force started this as the E-4 SAMOS system, and it was tied to the SAMOS E-5 reconnaissance system, which had a much larger camera. The SAMOS E-4 would use the same type of large recoverable spacecraft that would bring the entire camera back to Earth. The capsule was 72 inches (183 centimeters) in diameter and 84 inches (213 centimeters) long, far bigger than was needed to carry a mapping camera. It also required an Atlas rocket, which was more expensive than the Thor that was used to place ARGON into orbit.[1]
“It appears that SAFSP does not want to do this job,” Charyk told a brigadier general. “The system is obviously gold plated and fat. It is necessary that the program be scrubbed down to the core and re-estimated.”
The E-4 was supposed to be a system that provided position accuracies of 500 feet (150 meters) or less. The terrain camera had a 6-inch (15-centimeter) focal length with a f/5.6 lens, and the stellar camera was 3-inch (7.6-centimeter) focal length. The system would have a five-day mission with an apogee of 178 nautical miles (330 kilometers). Ground resolution would be approximately 150 feet (46 meters) during the 90-mile (145-kilometer) perigee over the target area. The film would be 9.5 inches (24 centimeters) wide and 4,000 feet (1,220 meters) long. The stellar image camera would be f/2.5 and produce 4.5-by 4.5-inch (11.4-by-11.4-centimeter) film frames, exposing each frame for four seconds. It would have 2,000 feet (610 meters) of film. Each mission theoretically would provide 50 million square miles (130 million square kilometers) of coverage.[2]
According to an official history of the later HEXAGON Mapping Camera Program, the Air Force’s senior leadership, the Air Staff, “was never more than lukewarm” about the E-4. This resulted in the E-4 being a “tenuous development which was in direct competition” with an interim mapping system proposed by the Advanced Research Projects Agency, and with the ARGON system that entered development along with CORONA. Lockheed had just finished its initial development plan for the E-4 when in May 1959, ARPA directed the Air Force to cancel the program.
In October, the SAMOS Washington office advocated for a camera system known as “412,” which was a new name for the E-4 camera. Major C.E. James proposed that this would be a “logical follow-on to ARGON.” Two cameras were already scheduled for completion by early 1961, with seven more planned, and they offered better performance than ARGON. James claimed that the first flight could take place by August 1961.
The HEXAGON history noted that by pursuing E-4, the “cumbersome ARGON management complex, which then included the Army Mapping Service, the National Photographic Interpretation Center, the Central Intelligence Agency, and the West Coast ARGON office,” could be simplified. But while the bureaucratic arrangement might be less complicated, the E-4 was a larger and more complex spacecraft.
In December 1960, Joseph Charyk, the Air Force civilian responsible for overseeing the reconnaissance satellite program, directed that the “412” camera be integrated into SAMOS and the contracts expanded to include three flight cameras, two test articles, and four follow-on models. Three Atlas Agena rockets would be provided for the missions.[3]
The head of the West Coast satellite program office was concerned that the E-4 was needlessly complicating the overall satellite effort, and would be costly, because it now appeared to have precedence over several other programs.
By February 1961, Charyk directed that the E-4 would have to be developed within existing funding limits. E-4 was generally referred to as “Program 1A” at this time for security reasons. By April 1961, the design was relatively firm. The plan was for launches in March, June, and September 1962, followed by the first of five supplemental payloads launching in April 1963.[4]
The program began to lose support by around the same time as it was being formalized. The Army was made responsible for managing “a single geodetic and mapping program to meet Defense Department requirements.” Army officials then began planning for an ambitious research and development program to support this, which the Air Force opposed.
In late May 1961, the Director of Defense Research and Engineering took on the evaluation of mapping satellite responsibilities. Deputy Secretary of Defense Roswell Gilpatric authorized the continuation of procurement of four cameras for E-4, but instructed Charyk to suspend procurement for boosters and spare vehicles. Soon the E-4 program was limited to those four vehicles. The camera payload continued in development for another six months. Some in the Air Force hoped that they would be given the go-ahead to launch them in the near future. But the cost for the program was growing.[5]
Upon learning of the cost, Charyk was unhappy. “It appears that SAFSP does not want to do this job,” he told a brigadier general. “The system is obviously gold plated and fat. It is necessary that the program be scrubbed down to the core and re-estimated.” (SAFSP was the Air Force office in Los Angeles that was then responsible for reconnaissance satellite photos. By fall 1961, Charyk was named as the first Director of the National Reconnaissance Office, and SAFSP was directly under his control.) Charyk might have been influenced by the fact that CORONA hardware, including the Thor booster, was cheaper than what the Air Force was proposing for any of its SAMOS projects.
The first two ARGON missions, launched in early 1961, had suffered reentry failures. The second two, in June and July, had suffered launch failures. The first ARGON success did not occur until May 1962.
By early January 1962, Charyk ordered that as the four payloads were completed, they would be stored in a readiness-in-9-months flight condition. Any decision to fly would require the provision of substantial funds for launch, boosters, and space vehicle costs.[6]
Although four E-4 camera systems were apparently built, no photos or drawings of the cameras or overall systems survived. The hardware was almost certainly destroyed sometime after program cancellation.
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An ARGON mapping camera image of Brisbane, taken in October 1962. (credit: Harry Stranger)
The follow-on program and the feud
In December 1962, after three successful ARGON flights, now-Director of the National Reconnaissance Office Joseph V. Charyk sent a memo to the Assistant Secretary of the Army concerning the development of ARGON PRIME, a more advanced geodetic satellite system to replace ARGON. Herbert York had halted ARGON PRIME in August. The proposal was called ARGON PRIME, or A’, after the sequence established with the CORONA cameras. The system would rely upon most of the existing hardware for the ARGON program, but would also include a new 12- or 18-inch (30- or 45-centimeter) focal length terrain camera and a 6-inch (15-centimeter) focal length stellar camera, considerably bigger than ARGON’s cameras and the SAMOS E-4 camera.
The Air Force also apparently wanted to modify CORONA’s panoramic photography to include a reseau, a grid etched on the lens system of a camera which shows up in the image and allows photogrammetrists to make accurate measurements of the terrain. This grid survives the warping and distortion produced during processing of the film. But it could also affect the spotting of small targets on the imagery.
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In 1963, the US Army proposed a mapping satellite known as ARGON PRIME. It was not accepted. It would have also operated in polar orbit. Senior intelligence officials determined that in the future, mapping cameras should be included in reconnaissance missions. (credit: NRO)
In June 1963, the Chief of Engineers, Department of the Army, produced a report on a “Follow-On Geodetic-Mapping Satellite.” This was a more detailed version of the Army’s earlier ARGON PRIME proposal. This new satellite was to produce imagery useful not only for making large-scale maps (such as that already provided by the ARGON system) but also for medium-scale maps as well. ARGON was used for 1:250,000 maps, whereas ARGON PRIME could be used to produce 1:50,000 scale maps. ARGON PRIME would use two cameras. The first would be a precision vertical mapping camera with a 12-inch focal length and a 9x14.5-inch (23x37-centimeter) film format. The second camera would be a 6-inch focal length stellar camera, mounted perpendicularly to the vertical camera. It would provide accurate stellar images at the same time that the vertical camera photographed the ground. These two images, coupled with a timer in the Agena D vehicle (which read out the time and date onto the film) could provide highly accurate data. The system would return 100 pounds (45 kilograms) of film.[7] Charyk’s reaction to this new proposal is unknown, but it apparently was not well-received, for the Army quickly began looking for alternatives.
Clearly what the Army wanted was a satellite essentially dedicated to its mapping mission. The Air Force also wanted its own mapping satellite.
In October 1963, Brigadier General George H. Walker, Army Director of Topography and Military Engineering, sent a report to the Assistant Secretary of the Army for Research and Development. The report was an analysis of a concept for a “combination satellite system.” The proposal was to develop a version of the current KH-4 CORONA satellite with only one 24-inch (61-centimeter) panoramic camera instead of two (like the earlier KH-3 version). In place of the missing camera, a 12- to 18-inch mapping camera would be installed. [8]
But clearly what the Army wanted was a satellite essentially dedicated to its mapping mission. The Air Force also wanted its own mapping satellite. The CIA, which was then in the midst of a battle within the NRO to maintain control of the CORONA system, was interested in not harming its own program, not giving the Air Force any more leverage, and not impacting the national reconnaissance effort. CIA officials did not want reseau grids over CORONA images, and did not want to lose of one of the two CORONA cameras carried on KH-4 CORONA MURAL missions.
Replacing the Stellar-Index camera
By the end of 1962, ARGON had achieved three successes out of seven missions. CORONA Index, and later Stellar-Index cameras, however, were flying on almost every CORONA mission, and CORONA was launching nearly once a month. But despite its excellent performance record, the Itek Stellar-Index camera lacked the focal length needed to meet future mapping, charting, and geodesy (MC&G) accuracy requirements. Military requirements—and capabilities—were always increasing the demand for higher and higher accuracy. The Army clearly wanted a camera with a focal length of at least 12 inches (the Stellar-Index camera was 1.5 inches). But the Army was apparently unable to convince the leaders of the intelligence community that such a large camera was justified, or at least worth the cost. What the MC&G community wanted was something like the ARGON camera, only flown on the CORONA vehicle. This way they would not have to sacrifice one of the panoramic cameras, like the Army had proposed with its “combination satellite.” (See: “Mapping the dark side of the world (part 2): supplementing, and supplanting, the ARGON geodetic satellite program,” The Space Review, November 24, 2025).
Assistant Secretary of Defense Eugene Fubini served as Deputy Director, Research and Engineering (DDR&E), starting in 1963. He had replaced Herbert York, who had earlier killed the Army’s plan for ARGON PRIME. Because of an ongoing fight over the NRO, the DDR&E had been designated monitor for the National Reconnaissance Program—the name of the overall American strategic reconnaissance effort. In fall 1964, Fubini proposed that instead of developing an ARGON follow-on camera, they should incorporate a reseau into the CORONA imagery (as the Air Force had proposed) and also incorporate a new Stellar-Index camera into existing CORONA satellites, replacing the existing one.
In October 1964, the Director of Central Intelligence, John McCone, replied to Fubini’s proposal. McCone emphasized that, although he thought this capability was important (he noted the high expense of the Department of Defense’s mapping effort and the economies that this modification would produce), “the mapping mission must at no time take precedence over the intelligence mission or compete with the intelligence mission for funds, available launchers, and payloads.”[9] McCone was also worried about the added complexity of the Stellar-Index system and suggested that, to ensure that it did not impact any of the CORONA missions, the camera first be tested separately during three or four non-CORONA launches before being incorporated into the CORONA system. McCone did not mention the issue of the reseau grid for the CORONA panoramic photography.
Fubini then sent a memo to Director of the NRO Brockway Macmillan, who had replaced Charyk in March 1963, proposing the reseau for the CORONA camera and a new 3-inch Stellar-Index camera. He also apparently proposed that the new mapping camera could be incorporated into GAMBIT satellites as well.[10]
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A DISIC camera system mounted in a holding frame. KH-4B CORONA cameras are at back left and right.
DISIC, the Dual Image Stellar Index Camera
After some further discussion, the parties reached an agreement: a new camera, based upon the existing ARGON camera, would be developed for incorporation in the CORONA satellites. McCone’s proposal for testing the new camera separately was apparently rejected. Fubini’s proposal for a reseau grid for the CORONA camera was also rejected.
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The KH-4B was the final version of the CORONA reconnaissance satellite and was equipped with the Dual Image Stellar Index Camera for mapping purposes. (credit: NRO)
In the spring of 1965, Fairchild Camera and Instrument Company, which had produced the ARGON camera, was asked to supply a nearly identical version of the camera for use on CORONA. The major difference was that, unlike the ARGON lens, the new camera’s lens would emphasize resolution over distortion-free imagery. The ARGON lens had striven for minimal distortion, but sacrificed resolution. The MC&G experts now felt confident enough that they could compensate for lens distortion and they therefore strove for the best resolution possible with the limited focal length.[11]
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The Dual Image Stellar Index Camera – DISIC for short - flew aboard the 17 KH-4B CORONA spacecraft launched between 1967 and 1972. (credit: NRO)
The terrain camera had a focal length of three inches. Ground resolution was improved to approximately 100–400 feet (30–120 meters). It used an lkogon lens with a film format of 4.5 by 4.5 inches (11.4 by 11.4 centimeters) and a rotary shutter. It imaged an area approximately 140 miles (225 kilometers) on a side: the same width as a CORONA panoramic swath, just like the earlier Stellar-Index camera. It could be preset to operate at 9.375, 12.5, 15.625, or 18.75 seconds per cycle, based on the planned spacecraft altitude. The stellar photography was provided by two three-inch focal length cameras using 35 mm film. They were mounted port and starboard and tilted ten degrees above the horizontal axis. The terrain and stellar cameras each carried 2,000 feet (610 meters) of film.[12]
This new camera was called the Dual Image Stellar Index Camera—DISIC for short—and It flew aboard the 17 KH-4B CORONA spacecraft launched between 1967 and 1972. Only one DISIC was flown for each spacecraft compared to the two Stellar-Index cameras carried on earlier missions. A special “cut and splice box’’ was used to direct the film into either A or B Satellite Recovery Vehicles. A Doppler beacon was later added to the spacecraft to improve tracking and orbit determination.
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One of the last CORONA missions, launched in September 1971. This spacecraft included a DISIC mapping camera. (credit: Peter Hunter)
In June 1966, before DISIC even began flying, Itek issued a report on a “Geodetic Orbital Photographic Satellite System,” otherwise known as GOPSS. GOPSS was a proposal to use not only a satellite, but also tracking and auxiliary data to produce an accurate landmark catalogue. This would then help in determining the geophysical parameters and other factors affecting the satellite orbits.[13]
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In 1966, Itek proposed the Geodetic Orbital Photographic System, or GOPSS, a large mapping camera in a dedicated satellite. Although it was not accepted, it formed the basis of the later HEXAGON Mapping Camera. (credit: NRO)
But by this time the idea of dedicated mapping satellites (like the earlier ARGON and E-4 programs) was a non-starter: mapping cameras would only be flown with reconnaissance cameras. DISIC was the ultimate refinement of the mapping cameras developed for the early American military space program. In the 1970s it was replaced by another dedicated mapping camera carried aboard CORONA’s successor, the KH-9 HEXAGON, which began flying in 1971. The HEXAGON Mapping Camera satisfied the Army’s earlier ARGON PRIME requirement for a 12-inch focal length camera. The original goal for a large film load could be accommodated considering HEXAGON’s much larger mass margins and a dedicated reentry vehicle for mapping camera film.
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Apollo 15, 16, and 17 carried instruments in the Service Module, including two cameras, a panoramic camera derived from an aerial reconnaissance camera, and the Metric Camera System, derived from the DISIC mapping camera developed for the CORONA program. (credit: NASA)
Mapping cameras for Apollo
Despite the incredible secrecy surrounding American reconnaissance and geodetic cameras, similar or identical versions of these cameras were used in a totally unclassified program aboard Apollo missions 15, 16, and 17 in lunar orbit. Rather surprisingly, no one in the media or later in the academic community had ever connected the reconnaissance systems carried on Apollo with the ones flown by the CIA and Air Force.[14]
Rather surprisingly, no one in the media or later in the academic community had ever connected the reconnaissance systems carried on Apollo with the ones flown by the CIA and Air Force.
Several reconnaissance cameras developed for space were adapted for aerial use. The early CORONA camera was adapted to serve as the “C-Camera” for the U-2 reconnaissance aircraft in the early 1960s. By the mid-1960s, Itek applied the technology from the KH-3 CORONA panoramic camera for aerial use aboard the U-2, A-12, and later SR-71 aircraft. The camera was highly modified (unlike the C-Camera) and essentially maintained only the KH-3’s lens assembly. The CIA called it the Optical Bar Camera or OBC. The US Air Force designated it the KA-80A. A modified version of the KA-80A was fitted inside the Apollo Scientific Instrument Module (SIM) bay.
Fairchild also adapted a version of DISIC for use on the Apollo missions, where it was referred to as the Metric Camera System. It used essentially the same DISIC design, with its 3-inch (76 mm) f/4.5 lens. A range of exposures from 1/15 to 1/240 seconds could be selected. The film magazine held 1,509 feet (460 meters) of film, enough for 3,600 frames. The camera compensated for the movement of the spacecraft and the velocity over height value determining this was set by the Command Module Pilot in lunar orbit. Successive frames overlapped by 78% and alternate frames by 57%.
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The Apollo Metric Camera was derived from the DISIC design, but also included a laser altimeter. It was carried on three Apollo missions. (credit: NASA)
The MCS also included a stellar camera with a three-inch f/2.8 lens. The stellar camera operated in concert with the terrain camera, also taking 3,600 frames. It was mounted with its optical axis 96 degrees to the terrain camera. Unlike DISIC, the MCS had only one stellar camera. The film from both cameras was collected in a single takeup cassette. The Command Module Pilot retrieved this cassette, along with the panoramic camera cassette, during a spacewalk on the return trip from the Moon.
The revolution in map making that CORONA, ARGON, and their successors represented was felt in all areas of American cartography, and US maps frequently became hot commodities in foreign nations as well.
The one major difference between DISIC and the MCS was the addition of a laser altimeter aligned parallel to the axis of the terrain camera. A ruby laser emitted a very short pulse of red light at the time of each terrain camera exposure. A photomultiplier tube detected the portion of the pulse that was reflected from the Moon. By measuring the round-trip travel time and multiplying it by half the speed of light, the precise altitude of the spacecraft above the Moon’s surface could be determined. Together, the panoramic camera and MCS provided highly useful imagery of the Moon.[15]
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During the same time that the ARGON mapping missions were flying, the National Reconnaissance Office was equipping CORONA reconnaissance satellites with Index, and later Stellar-Index cameras (circled in red) that had some mapping capability. Later KH-4B CORONA satellites were equipped with the DISIC mapping camera. (credit: NRO)
Revolutions in mapping
By the early 1960s, the US military’s World Geodetic System model of the Soviet Union was far better than it had been only a few years earlier, but it was still highly idiosyncratic. The location of nearly all Strategic Air Command targets in the USSR had been accurately determined and extensive bombing routes had been charted for SAC’s B-52 Stratofortresses. However, most Soviet territory remained uncharted. But as time progressed, Soviet air defenses such as the SA-200 (NATO designation: SA-5 GAMMON) drove SAC’s bombers from the high thin air and forced them to make their penetrations into Soviet airspace at low altitude. There was thus an ever-increasing demand for accurate charts to ensure that poorly mapped mountain ranges did not surprise a B-52.
Around 1965, Air Force Chief of Staff General Curtis LeMay ordered that ACIC revise all its World Aeronautical Charts of the Soviet Union.[16] LeMay wanted complete charts of the entire country so that he could destroy it. This involved a massive effort that soon occupied all the relevant agencies, the intelligence and defense communities.
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A HEXAGON Mapping Camera image of the Soviet launch complex at Baikonur, taken in 1975. (credit: Harry Stranger)
In 1965–1966, the civilian US Geological Survey (USGS) was granted access to CORONA and ARGON data for production of maps of US and connected territory, such as Canada and Mexico. This resulted in a remarkably close working relationship between the civilian and military mapping communities. Lowell Starr, a civilian cartographer with the USGS, stated that the CORONA materials were used to update already existing maps of the United States and by this time using the materials was relatively easy:
A trained employee could view a roll of CORONA film and quickly annotate the related maps by using USGS criteria to decide whether or not the maps would require revision. This process was so reliable that we later just reprinted some of the inspected maps and included the statement ‘No Revision Required, Inspected 19_.’ Of course, maps which required revision would be corrected by conventional methods.[17]
The space-based capability made it much easier to revise the existing maps. The revolution in map making that CORONA, ARGON, and their successors represented was felt in all areas of American cartography, and US maps frequently became hot commodities in foreign nations as well: one civilian geodesist remembered a little old lady from the Soviet embassy in Washington who routinely showed up at a US government store to buy a complete set of all the latest maps of the USSR—maps produced from top secret reconnaissance satellites flying over the Soviet Union.
As William Mahoney stated:
CORONA wasn’t just an intelligence and target location tool. It was also a major instrument for compiling the cartographic and digital products that were necessary to support ground forces. By 1969, we could reliably predict any position on the Earth’s surface to within 450 feet [150 meters] with a 90 percent accuracy rate. We put the cross hairs on the target that made our counterforce credible[18].
Many targets were known to an even higher accuracy. Over time, the veil of geodetic uncertainty that covered the Soviet landmass was peeled away, but the demand for better and more flexible data never abated.
In 1959, Amrom Katz at RAND had voiced his opinions on what the Air Force should do when developing a satellite mapping program. Neither the Air Force nor the rest of the intelligence community pursued the program in the way Katz believed they should. But if Katz was aware of how satellite mapping evolved over the following decade, we do not know his thoughts. Based upon what is clear about his character, his opinions would have been strong, and amusing.
Acknowledgements
The author would like to acknowledge the assistance of the following people in the preparation of this account, many of whom are sadly now deceased: Charles Ruzek, Frank Madden, Amrom Katz, William Harris, Dick Buenneke, Bill King, Dino Brugioni, and Charlie Murphy. Thanks as well to Harry Stranger for the ARGON photos.
Note: a future article will cover the HEXAGON Mapping Camera, if the author ever gets around to writing it.
Endnotes
National Reconnaissance Office, “HEXAGON (KH-9) Mapping Camera Program and Evolution,” December 1982, p. 47.
Ibid, p. 48. Note: the f-number (such as f/5.6 or f/2.5) is a measure of the light-gathering ability of an optical system such as a camera lens. It is defined as the ratio of the system’s focal length to the diameter of the aperture. The lower the number, the larger the aperture and the more light that is let into the camera in a shorter period of time. Lower f-number lenses tend to be short and wide and quickly let light into the camera.
Ibid.
Ibid, p. 49.
Ibid, p. 50.
Ibid.
“Technical Report: Follow-on Geodetic Mapping Satellite,” Special Projects Of. flee, Directorate of Topography and Military Engineering, Prepared by Office, Chief of Engineers, Department of the Army, June 28, 1963, NRRF 3/C/0013.
Geo. H. Walker, Brigadier General, USA, Director of Topography and Military Engineering, to Assistant Director for Mapping, Charting and Geodesy, Defense Intelligence Agency, “Proposed Combination Satellite System,” 16 October, 1963, with attached: Geo. H. Walker, Director of Topography and Military Engineering, to Assistant Secretary of the Army (R&D), “Proposed Combination Satellite System,” [n.d.], NRRF 2/A/0016.
John A. McCone, Director of Central Intelligence, to Honorable Eugene G. Fubini, Assistant Secretary of Defense (Deputy Director, Research and Engineering), Oct 6, 1964, NRRF 1/A/0071. Why McCone was worried about this new mapping camera is unknown, since CORONA had been flying without incident with the Stellar-Index cameras for over two years and the new camera would only replace the earlier camera in much the same manner.
Albert D. Wheelon, Deputy Director for Science and Technology, Central Intelligence Agency, to Director of Central Intelligence, “Review of the Geodetic Satellite Mapping Proposals of Or. Fubinl,” 10 November 1964, NRRF 1IC/0088. It is not clear from this second-hand account which mapping camera Fubini was proposing for GAMBIT - the earlier Stellar-Index camera, which did fly on GAMBIT, or the later OISIC camera (which may have flown on later versions of the GAMBIT).
William C. Mahoney letter to Dwayne A. Day, May 5, 1997.
National Reconnaissance Office Data Book “The KH-4B Camera System,” September 1967, Record Group 263, “CORONA Hard Copy Materials,” National Archives and Records Administration, p. 9.
Itek Corporation, “Feasibility Study Final Report: Geodetic Orbital Photographic Satellite System,” Volume 1, Program Compendium and Conclusions, June 1966, NRRF 4/E/0006.
The CIA was worried at the time that the media would draw such a conclusion. See John N. McMahon, SPS/DOS&T, Memorandum for Security Staff, OSA, “APOLLO Lunar Photographic System Ef. fort Carried on at Itek Corporation,” August 18, 1965, NRRF 1/D/0016.
Harold Masursky, G.W. Colton, and Farouk EI-Baz, eds., Apollo Over the Moon: A View From Orbit (Washington, DC: US Government Printing Office, 1978), pp.9-12.
Dino Brugioni, telephone interview with Dwayne A. Day, March 2, 1997.
Lowell E. Starr, comments at Piercing the Curtain: CORONA and the Revolution in Intelligence symposium at the George Washington University, May 23-24, 1995.
Mahoney, ibid.
Dwayne Day can be reached at zirconic1@cox.net.
Space X Now Has A Serious Competitor
New Glenn
Commercial vehicles like Blue Origin’s proposed upgrade to its New Glenn rocket, the New Glenn 9x4, should play a role in any revised lunar exploration strategy. (credit: Blue Origin)
Our best energy and efforts
by Robert G. Oler
Monday, December 1, 2025
Decades ago, when we are told the US was great, President Kennedy gave his rationale under the hot Texas sun for the lunar goal. The goal will “organize the best of our energies and skills,” he said. It did.
The success of Apollo confirmed the organization chosen. If Congress decides the goal is to return Americans to the Moon before others arrive first, we need to find the equivalent of that organization again.
Going to the Moon this decade requires a lander, not a test program.
Start by recognizing what is possible before the end of this decade. Blue Origin’s New Glenn seems to have completed the most successful test campaign since Saturn V. Saturn flew twice before it headed off to the Moon for its debut with humans. New Glenn will likely hurl a payload to the Moon on the third try but, imitating Saturn, on the second it confirmed its entire operational portfolio, including first stage recovery.
New Glenn’s cost, reusability, and flight rate need to be verified. However, Blue Origin now has a product, not a test project.
The Space Launch System (SLS) and Orion exist. That alone makes them the foundation of the return to the lunar environment. What is needed: a lander.
SpaceX has a test program in Starship, a product is aspirational. The program is extensive and continues, but it is encountering major difficulties at all levels. There is no realistic date for operational status. The current plan calls for SpaceX to have one uncrewed flight of its still unbuilt lander to “human rate” it. For a program that has completed few of its test aims in one flight it is hard to imagine prompt success on such a grand scale.
Going to the Moon this decade requires a lander, not a test program. If the NASA administrator will not make the choice, Congress must. The SpaceX lander contract should be terminated. When Starship is successful, the product can be evaluated.
“The best of our efforts” require a phased approach. Phase 1 should be an interim capability using parts that are available in the near term. Our organization will be judged by producing a modern Lunar Module (LM) that will allow interchangeable and cooperative human and robotic exploration of key areas of the Moon. This focus will be to explore and confirm the location of a crewed base.
Blue Origin has demonstrated solid engineering management and execution capability with New Glenn. This will likely transfer seamlessly to an effort to meld the soon-to-fly Mark 1 lander with a limited, but safe, human capability. This interoperability will allow unprecedented capabilities and cost reduction. Blue Origin’s contract for a lunar lander should be at once expanded to include an interim lander.
The result should be a system capable of multiple lunar landings. Success will produce confidence in a variety of abilities not currently available. All the ancillary learned skills (such as on orbit refueling) will have commercial applications and expand commercial capabilities.
Phase 1 will also start the process to replace SLS. Technically competent, the rocket costs too much, flies too infrequently, and is untethered from commercial opportunities or potential. Vehicle costs will always be fully on the federal purse, and will grow.
SLS procurement should cease at the fifth Block 1 vehicle. It is very unlikely the return can occur during 2028 or on the third flight. A Phase 1 lander operational date should be by the start of 2029 and the fourth or fifth flight.
All upgrading of SLS or its infrastructure should cease. No avenue exists to increase the flight rate or lower cost of this vehicle. The proposed capabilities do not have value equal with the cost. All upgrade money should go to Phase 2.
Phase 2 of a lunar effort begins at once with a competition to human-rate one of the heavy lift vehicles flying or in development, such as New Glenn 9x4 or a Falcon Heavy, to replace SLS. Orion has unique capabilities for Earth-Moon flight.
Using commercial lift, changes in the architecture, such as Earth orbit rendezvous, might be necessary and that will require changes in Orion. These changes include embracing reusability. The results in Phase 1 will have produced confidence in other areas of change.
It is absurd to have as a goal a reusable lunar lander when Orion is not. With reusability and vehicle procurement the capsule should sustain a flight rate of at least two per year, perhaps three.
Which is more important? Free people returning to the Moon before the communist People’s Republic of China, hence proving a superior system? Or, preserving a strategy that is driven primarily by the needs of rival aerospace groups as well as NASA’s internal institutional requirements to access federal dollars?
This commercial contract should have reasonable but firm dates for first operation capability, performance, and cost. Two separate launch providers are a luxury that is costly and unneeded. Saturn V did not have a backup. If an issue develops in the system that is chosen, the contract should spell out how it will be addressed.
All the elements of the Gateway station should be launched commercially. The goal of future Western efforts in space should be a base on the Moon, but also a solid transportation system beyond Earth orbit. Gateway is the key to this. However, it needs evolution to a more robust concept including capabilities such as artificial gravity potential, such as was envisioned for the Nautilus concept.
This is not possible with the $2-billion-a-year, 18-month launch interval of SLS or the $2-billion single-use Orion capsule eating up funds. Two billion dollars spent on New Glenn 9x4 at $200 million per launch will put far more payload and infrastructure in the lunar area. Gateway should be thought of as the test version of interplanetary ships.
Appearing from this phased approach will be not only a solid relationship between commercial and government efforts, but a spin-off of the capabilities gained to other non-government sponsored commercial efforts. Aerobraking, fuel transfer, and massive communication structures are all possible. They need a catalyst.
The challenge is not the technology but will. Which is more important? Free people returning to the Moon before the communist People’s Republic of China, hence proving a superior system? Or, preserving a strategy that is driven primarily by the needs of rival aerospace groups as well as NASA’s internal institutional requirements to access federal dollars?
That is the choice which should be on the minds of various congressional committees and even inquired of the prospective NASA administrator. What we once did, we can do again, only better, but as JFK said, we need to organize. The judgment and course of history awaits.
Robert G. Oler is a professional aviator and a founding member of the Clear Lake Group. He can be reached at orbitjet@hotmail.com. These views are his own.
Chandrayaan-3 Lunar Flyby
Chandrayaan-3
The Chandrayaan-3 propulsion module, seen here below the lander in pre-launch preparations, is providing insights long after the end of the lander mission. (credit: ISRO)
Chandrayaan-3 successfully undertakes lunar flybys
by Ajey Lele
Monday, December 1, 2025
Indian space agency ISRO’s Chandrayaan-3 mission, which was launched in July 2023, is in news again, this time for a successful lunar flyby on November 6 and another five days later. Two years ago, this mission performed a successful lunar touchdown on August 23, 2023. This mission had perfectly soft-landed the lander and rover unit on the lunar surface, thus making India only the fourth country in the world to achieve this distinction. This landing was done close to the lunar South Pole. a region where no other country had landed in the past.
For ISRO, these two flyby events have provided valuable insights and experience of mission planning, operations, and flight dynamics perspectives.
This mission consisted of Vikram, a lunar lander, and Pragyan, a lunar rover, and orbiting propulsion module. On August 17, 2023, the Vikram lander separated from the propulsion module to begin landing operations. The propulsion module had carried the lander and rover configuration to a 100-kilometer lunar orbit. This module is a box-like structure with a large solar panel. Initially, the life of this propulsion module was expected to be around six months but, even after two years, it is still functional and had recently done two lunar flybys.
According to ISRO, a few months after the successful landing of Vikram and Pragyan on lunar surface, the propulsion module was relocated to a high-altitude Earth-bound orbit by executing trans-Earth injection (TEI) maneuvers in October 2023. Since then, this propulsion module was revolving in this orbit under the influence of both lunar and terrestrial gravity fields. This interplay of gravity fields had led this spacecraft to enter the Moon’s sphere of influence (SOI), where the Moon's gravitation dominates the motion, on November 4. On November 6, the first lunar flyby event took place outside the visibility of the Indian Deep Space Network (IDSN) at a distance of 3,740 kilometers from the Moon’s surface. The second flyby event was visible from the IDSN, coming within 4,537 kilometers of the lunar surface on November 11. It is believed that the propulsion module must have exited the Moon’s SOI on November 14.
The flyby event trajectory was monitored very closely from ISRO Telemetry, Tracking and Command Network (ISTRAC). Special care was taken to monitor the propulsion module’s trajectory and close proximities to any other space objects. The overall performance of the module was normal during the flyby. For ISRO, these two flyby events have provided valuable insights and experience of mission planning, operations, and flight dynamics perspectives. It has also improved ISRO’s understanding of the effects of disturbance torques. Since torques acting on a spacecraft can alter its attitude in space, understanding these effects is essential for maintaining spacecraft stability.
Major space players like the US, Russia/USSR, and China have undertaken lunar flyby missions. Since 1958, more than 35 lunar flyby missions (including failures) have occurred. In the past, such missions have been used to undertake studies like lunar radiation environment and lunar photography experiments.
It is important to note that India’s investments in its Moon program are yielding significant results even today. On October 18, ISRO announced an important assessment made by their scientists based on the observations received from Chandrayaan-2 spacecraft. This mission, which was launched in 2019, had observed effects on the Moon of a coronal mass ejection (CME) from the Sun in May 2024. This information, which details how solar phenomena can temporarily alter the lunar environment, is important from the point of view of planning human missions to Moon.
These missions are keeping India’s scientific footprint active on the Moon and prove India’s technological maturity in the era when some major programs for the Moon are in making.
The basic job for the propulsion module of Chandrayaan-3 was to carry the lander and rover to a low lunar orbit. However, ISRO was ready to consider the propulsion module as more than just a courier. Since it was to go so close to the lunar surface, ISRO put sensors on it for observations. One, the Spectro-polarimetry of Habitable Planet Earth (SHAPE), took spectral and polarimetric measurements of Earth from the lunar orbit in the near-infrared radiation (NIR) wavelength range (1–1.7 microns). Scientists are studying the findings from SHAPE and these inputs would have much relevance in future exoplanet research and search for extraterrestrial life.
When Chandrayaan-3 was active on the lunar surface, ISRO conducted an experiment known as the “Hop Experiment.” During this test, the Vikram lander fired its engines to perform a brief hop on September 3, 2023. In simple terms, the lander successfully lifted off and moved to a new location about 40 centimeters away. This achievement is expected to support ISRO’s planning for its next mission, Chandrayaan-4, which aims to bring lunar samples back to Earth.
Even today the Chandrayaan-2 and Chandrayaan-3 missions are still providing valuable data about the lunar surface, and the insights gained from these ongoing observations will help ISRO plan its future missions to the Moon. These missions are keeping India’s scientific footprint active on the Moon and prove India’s technological maturity in the era when some major programs for the Moon are in making. These missions are together positioning the country for a major role in the future lunar economy and global Moon governance.
Ajey Lele is Deputy Director General at MP-IDSA, New Delhi, India and the views expressed are personal.
Tuesday, December 2, 2025
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