How a fake NASA astronaut conned the world: Meet Robert Hunt. He proved ‘school ke liye fees nahi uniform lagta hai'

Mint

06-07-2025

A dialogue from Aamir Khan's '3 Idiots' — 'school ke liye fees nahi uniform lagta hai' — succinctly imparted a lesson on how a simple uniform can open doors that talent or skills alone cannot. A perfect example of this can be traced back to the 1980s in America, but for all the wrong reasons.
Robert Hunt, 27, of Medford, had fooled the world for years by impersonating an array of people. He posed as a TV producer, inventor of a 'spray-on diaper cream,' US Marine, baseball star, senator and among many other prominent figures.
His act of impersonation reached its climax when he posed as a US Marine fighter pilot and NASA hero. In December 1988, Hunt was even feted with honorary citizenship in Dublin, Ireland.
"I was literally the best at what I did," Robert Hunt told Space.com in an interview over six phone calls in March 2025.
'He's very good [at what he did],' state Trooper Andrew Palombo, the investigator who arrested Hunt, was quoted in the Boston Herald as saying.
Meanwhile, Hunt's former attorney, James Cipoletta, said, 'Robert had some really intriguing stories...I think he enjoyed the role-playing. He had a certain charisma, but it was the media who made him a celebrity.'
Hunt continued his astronaut hoax with several lectures. During one such address in 1989, Hunt claimed he flew above Earth on the space shuttle Atlantis - 'on top-secret missions'. He went on to show two blackened tiles that he said were scorched during his reentry.
Those blackened tiles were nothing but 'ordinary kitchen floor tiles he had burned,' state Trooper Andrew Palombo was quoted as saying.
According to Space.com, Hunt also claimed he zoomed off 'the aircraft carrier USS Coral Sea in his F/A-18 jet fighter and showering Gaddafi's Libya with bombs.'
According to the report, Hunt's obsession with space began when he was 7 years old. This was particularly on the night he watched the Apollo 11 moon landing on his family's television set in Massachusetts.
As a teenager during the Vietnam War, Hunt reportedly snuck into the nearby Chelsea Naval Hospital, wore discarded uniforms, and saluted himself in the mirror. He imagined exploring distant planets one day. That image of himself, he told me, was "forever lasting,' Space.com reported.
Hunt's father Leo once told the Herald that his son had started deceiving others at 14. The first time was when he had sold a neighbor some canaries. "...when the birds Roy [Robert] sold him took a bath, all the paint, or yellow chalk, or whatever the hell it was, started to come off. And they were sparrows! Sparrows!'
Hunt was quoted as saying that in 1979, while still in high school, he had joined the Marine Corps on a delayed-entry program for recruits who were too young to qualify.
But an administrative error led to an 'honourable discharge'. He was then sent home from the recruit depot on Parris Island, South Carolina.
"It was disappointing, because that was my dream," Hunt told Space.com.
He said, "I knew everything there was about the Marine Corps and the Navy, so when I graduated, I just carried on the dream."
He said he simply bluffed his way into the barracks.
"I knew the curriculum; I knew the commands; I knew the structure," he said. But an officer reprimanded him for wearing an unstarched hat, and crestfallen, he returned to civilian life, the report added.
Now comes of the part of Hunt's life where he used a uniform and some forged documents to sneak into NASA.
In the early 1980s, Hunt allegedly dressed as a second lieutenant and snuck onto the Pease Air Force Base in New Hampshire — where his first wife used to work.
He was reportedly caught poking around Air Force 2, the vice president's plane. This led to an FBI investigation and the end of his marriage to his first wife.
Years later, after impersonating and testing his chances in several personas, Hunt fled back to the military.
"Back in the days...if you were in uniform, all you had to do is give them your SRB [Service Record Book]...That's it — 'welcome aboard,'' Hunt told Space.com told me.
He admitted adding false pages to make it appear he was a helicopter pilot with Marine Heavy Helicopter Squadron 461. He claimed he bypassed roughly two years of required training at Naval Air Station Pensacola.
Hunt reportedly said he had doctored other people's evaluations or forged his own. "It's like a rainbow," he said. "You just follow it and see where it goes,' he added.
If the report is to be believed, Hunt used his fake credentials to acquire flight uniforms, coveralls and replacement uniforms from the requisition center.
"You just had to have the balls to do it," he said.
Hunt even gave himself a promotion. He reportedly purchased $20 Navy astronaut wings, transforming from Capt. Hunt, Marine pilot, to Capt. Hunt, America's 'youngest Marine astronaut.'
According to Hunt, he bluffed his way into NASA astronaut training. "I literally put myself in the service," he was quoted by Space.com as saying. He also described the alleged transfer from helicopter to fixed-wing aircraft training before being selected for the NASA.
Hunt claimed he underwent specialised physical evaluations at Johnson Space Center, studied in Huntsville, Alabama—known as "Rocket City"—and even spent "nine weeks with Morton Thiokol' learning about rocket boosters.
There's no verification for any of these claims. He told Space.com his aim was to become the first imposter in space. 'Believe it or not, that was my plan," he said. "I was actually scheduled for a shuttle flight."
But factually, history's first space hoaxer was Jerry G. Tees, a 28-year-old electrician who posed as an astronaut at a Houston nightclub in June 1963.
In the US, Robert Hunt continued his astronaut hoax. He wore his Navy uniform and told audiences how "Atlantis reaches seven Gs during takeoff," and "glides in from 220,000 feet with zero power."
Hunt claimed he also gave his father a military uniform for a photo, not realising the badges were misplaced and the hat was wrong.
Soon, trouble was brewing for Robert Hunt.
In January 1989, Massachusetts state trooper Andrew Palombo heard a strange complaint at Logan airport. A worker said a NASA astronaut in a US Marine uniform — complete with sword, medals and a Purple Heart — had visited her home and convinced her 18-year-old son to enlist in the Navy.
When he changed his mind, the man demanded $4,000 to use his "Pentagon connections" for a discharge, Space.com reported. She said he claimed to command the space shuttle Atlantis and signed a photograph "Captain Robert Hunt."
Palombo then called the Naval Investigative Service Command, who said Hunt had been a member of the US Marines Reserve for two months in 1979.
He was "mustered out after a psychological evaluation," Palombo told The Daily Item. This enraged the state trooper. He couldn't tolerate an imposter claiming unearned rewards.
Palombo figured out the truth about Hunt's military wardrobe. "He got the stuff on credit by posing on the phone as an officer and a gentleman. ... It was worth about $1,000, and of course, he didn't pay for it."
'He's a flim-flam man, and from what we can figure, he's squeezed at least $60,000 out of people since September,' Palombo had told the Herald.
Following this, Hunt planned an escape.
Later on January 28, 1989, Palombo knock on Hunt's door and searched his house, during which he found military paraphernalia, flight jumpsuits, a NASA helmet, police badges, and images of Hunt wearing Korean War medals. "He wasn't even born then," Palombo had said.
He arrested Hunt for larceny and dragged him to the station. On the morning of Hunt's trial, lawmakers joked about spaceships parked outside the courthouse, Space.com reported.
He pleaded guilty to larceny by false pretences for using his wife's corporate credit card and for swindling $4,000 from the young recruit's family. He was given a two-year suspended sentence.
Hunt walked free in May 1989.
After his release, Hunt, at one time, considered becoming an "honest" plumber but instead spent the money on another Navy uniform. "That's when I became a commando," he told the media outlet.
He presented himself at the Presidio of San Francisco, a US military base, as the head of SEAL Team Six, the elite Navy counter-terrorist group.
He reportedly slept in officers' quarters and worked three weeks at the emergency operations center, tooling around with computers.
After he parked in a general's spot, the FBI charged him with false impersonation. He was finally captured, pleaded guilty in July 1994, and served a year in prison.
Even after being released again, Hunt's cons continued. Palombo doggedly pursued him far beyond his jurisdiction.
When Hunt struck up a relationship with a wealthy French-Canadian golfer and was accused of posing as a federal drugs agent, Palombo called the Canadian authorities and revealed his criminal past.
Then, in July 1998, Palombo's Harley-Davidson hit an oil patch and spun out of control, killing him.
After the security concerns following 9/11, Hunt told Space.com his schemes became "impossible." In 2005, the Stolen Valor Act made it illegal to falsely claim military decorations.
Hunt hung up his fake uniforms and decided to rebuild his relationship with his parents.
Hunt's stories were just limited to him being part of NASA or US marine. They even corrupted the public record.
According to Space.com, Hunt convinced Rodney Stich, author of "Defrauding America," a book about CIA conspiracies, that he flew secret missions to deliver missiles to Iran.
Today, Hunt lives alone in New Hampshire, where he has held various construction jobs, according to Space.com. He is 63, has few friends, and passes his time watching the History Channel.
"What I regret is the people who got hurt," Hunt said. He said he eventually stopped dreaming of space and "grew up."