The Real Star Wars? A Cosmic Race and A Spacecraft Heist

Beep-beep-beep-beep-beep... Steady and high-pitched were the sounds of Sputnik.

The Soviet-launched Sputnik. [www.nasa.gov]

On October 4, 1957, the Soviet Union launched Sputnik I, the world's first artificial satellite, into orbit at an altitude of 150 miles above the Earth's surface.

For the next three months, the small, spherical "new moon" circled the globe at 18,000 miles per hour. Its chirping continued for about three weeks before its batteries ran out. Ham radio operators tuned in to hear its signal. On clear nights, many people looked up at the sky in hopes of seeing the metal sphere as it streaked across, not realizing that it could only be seen with a telescope.

It seemed like people everywhere were suddenly interested in the mysteries of the universe and what lay beyond planet Earth.

* * * * *

Unbeknownst to the public, CIA had tracked and warned of Soviet capabilities and intentions well before Sputnik's launch. According to CIA Trailblazer Eloise Page who, during the 1950s, had worked in the unit focused on collecting technical secrets:

"By May of 1957 we had everything there was to know about the Sputnik. We had the angle of launch. We had the date. It was to be between September 20th and October 4th."

However, the reality of the ascent is what catapulted space exploration to the forefront of America's goals. And the hard truth was that the Soviets had intercontinental ballistic missiles capable of striking our land. We couldn't allow Cold War adversaries to have a scientific or military advantage.

So began the race to dominate the new frontier.

Shooting for the Moon

The ambitious nature of the Soviet space program was confirmed on November 3, 1957 with their launch of Sputnik II. The United States soon responded with the successful launch of the Explorer 1 satellite. Its scientific success laid the groundwork for the establishment of NASA.

A poster highlighting the main characteristics of Explorer 1 and the Jupiter C rocket that launched it into space. [www.nasa.gov]

At the start of 1959, the Soviet Union kicked off its Luna program (called Lunik by Western media) with the launch of Luna I, which was designed to orbit the moon. It missed its target, but Luna II became the first manmade object to impact the lunar surface. By year's end, Luna III returned history's first-ever pictures of the far side of the moon.

These developments compounded U.S. fears that we were losing the race.

A Soviet-Style Tour

It wasn't long before the Soviets began touring several countries to showcase their achievements and technological prowess. Traveling exhibits feature the standard displays of industrial machinery, consumer goods, and textiles. Of greater interest to CIA were models of the Sputnik and Lunik space vehicles. But perhaps they weren't just replicas? Some suspected the Soviets were proud enough of the Lunik spacecraft to show off the real thing.

One night, after an exhibit closed to visitors, several CIA officers gained unrestricted access to the Lunik on display. They verified that it was indeed authentic.

An international Soviet exhibition (left); The cover of a booklet on the USSR exhibition in New York, June 1959 (right). The US-USSR national exhibitions were part of a cultural exchange program aimed at increasing mutual understanding. [www.state.gov]

The tour moved from city to city until the U.S. intercepted a shipping manifest that listed an item called "models of astronomic apparatus." Its dimensions matched what the officers had recorded. This information was passed to the CIA Station nearest the Lunik's next stop.

Agency officers began monitoring the item's movements while they hatched their daring plan.

CIA's Mission Impossible

A four-man team of officers arrived on-location with specialized photographic gear. By this point, the station had already filmed the Lunik's 17'x8' shipping crate to give the officers a better idea of how to access the precious cargo. The only way in would be through the top.

More equipment was procured: ladders, ropes, a nail puller, drop lights, flashlights, extension cords, a pinch bar, metric wrenches, screwdrivers, and hammers. They were all set.

After exploiting a Soviet security lapse, the truck delivering the Lunik to the rail yard was diverted to a rented salvage yard, where the team converged. CIA patrolled the vicinity with two-way radios, maintaining contact with the team and Station. When it was clear the Soviets did not suspect anything was amiss, they got to work.

Zero Hour and the Long Night

It was a hot and humid evening. The time was about 7:30 p.m. In a little while the shock of street lamps flooding the salvage yard with light would cause a brief panic. Just a false alarm.

The CIA team assembled the photographic gear and rigged the drop lights. Two climbed a ladder on opposite sides of the crate and pried loose the two-inch tongue-in-groove planks. Their task was to remove enough of the top to get in without leaving telltale traces of forced entry.

Once open, they pulled back a canvas cover, removed an inspection window in the Lunik's nose section, and squeezed inside. A roll of film was filled with close-ups of markings and sent out to an awaiting patrol car to ensure that the results were satisfactory. Word quickly came back that the processed film negatives were fine, so the operation continued.

Meanwhile, the other half of the team tackled the tail section of the Lunik. They gained access to the engine compartment by using a wrench to remove the bolds holding the large base cap together. Although the engine had been removed, its mounting brackets and fuel and oxidizer tanks remained in place. They proceeded to take out some coupling to send back to Headquarters for detailed analysis.

The exploitation was now complete. During the night, Station had delivered duplicate plastic and wiring to replace that which had been damaged in the process. All that remained was to put things back together and close up the crate.

The first job was to re-secure the payload orb, which was held in the vehicle's central basket, with its antenna probe extended toward the tip of the cone. This turned out to be the trickiest part of the whole night's work. One man was in the cramped nose section trying to get the orb into precisely the right position while another was in the engine compartment trying to engage the threads on the end of a rod he couldn't see. After an hour, and a number of futile attempts, the connection was finally made, and they all breathed a sigh of relief.

Then they put the inspection window back in place and re-bolted the base cap. One last check for evidence of their tampering, and once clear, they climbed out of the crate, pulled the canvas covering back over, and nailed the crate lid shut. They packed up the ladder and equipment, and a car came to pick them up at 4:00 a.m.

An hour later, a driver came and moved the truck to a pre-arranged point where the original driver took over and made the delivery to the rail station. The Soviet official inspecting arrivals gave the all-clear, and in due course, the spacecraft was enroute to its next destination. Nothing suspicious.

Legacy of the Caper

Now you know the true story of how CIA borrowed a Soviet spacecraft for the night.

The daring Lunik heist was an American intelligence victory. CIA was able to draw upon the hands-on experience and seamless cooperation between covert intelligence operators and overt counterparts for future operations.

As for the space race, the Agency's intimate look into the Lunik's construction and technology played an important role in determining the weight, power, and payload limits of the spacecraft. This knowledge helped NASA set the goals and shape timelines that would ultimately lead to the U.S. overtaking the Soviet Union in space.

Hello again, Moon.

View of Earth from window of Orion spacecraft on April 6, 2026 during the Artemis II crew’s flyby of the moon. It was the first crewed mission to deep space in more than half a century. [www.nasa.gov]