Spycraft. Part 1

Spycraft: the secret history of the CIA's spytechs from communism to Al-Qaeda.

by Robert Wallace and H. Keith Melton with Henry R. Schlesinger.

Preface.

The CIA's new Deputy Director for Operations, David Cohen, called me to his office in August 1995. "I want you to apply for the job of Deputy Director, Office of Technical Service in the DS&T [Directorate of Science and Technology]," Cohen directed. "We need a DO [Directorate of Operations] person there and I think you're a good candidate."

He might as well have suggested that I apply for NASA's astronaut program. I had been an operations officer for almost twenty-five years, but for the past eighteen months I was a.s.signed to the Comptroller's office. At age fifty-one, I was out of operations, doing the type of staff and budget work that motivated me to plan for early retirement.

"I've never worked in the DS&T. I'm a history-political science major, an operations type. I'm an a.n.a.log guy in a digital world. I don't even change the oil in my car," I objected.

"I know what your skills are and this is a good a.s.signment for you." Cohen left no doubt about the answer he wanted.

"Okay, I'll apply, but I can't imagine I'll be compet.i.tive if there are other candidates."

"There'll be other candidates and you'll do fine. We need a DO officer in OTS who knows senior ops people and is someone I have confidence in. You've been looking at the budgets in every DO division almost two years, so you know the key players and they know you. I have to make sure technical service and operations stay linked."

The interview was over. I had worked for Cohen several years earlier and recalled his frequent admonition that once a decision was made he had no patience for further discussion. This was not the first time that he had directed me to a job I had not sought, and the others had worked out pretty well. In 1988, he sent me to a large station that had never been on my a.s.signment wish list. That put me into position to join the ranks of the CIA's Senior Intelligence Service. Three years later he ordered me back to Headquarters to serve as a division-level resource manager. Since I had spent the previous eighteen years in various field stations, this responsibility introduced me to a previously unknown world of billion-dollar budgets and the Agency's senior leadership.

Six weeks following the conversation with Cohen, after separate interviews with the Executive Director, Nora Slatkin, and the Deputy Director for Science and Technology, Dr. Ruth David, both recent appointees to their positions, I became Deputy Director, OTS.1 Evidently, they agreed with Cohen that the job required a breadth of operational and management experience more than a technical degree. Evidently, they agreed with Cohen that the job required a breadth of operational and management experience more than a technical degree.

"OTS is America's 'Q', sort of," said "Roy," in welcoming me to the office and offering no apology for the reference to the gadget master of James Bond movies. Roy had spent his first ten years at OTS in the forgery shop working as a "doc.u.ment authenticator," making certain that CIA-produced travel and alias-ident.i.ty doc.u.ments were flawless in print type, color, design, and paper texture. Now, as a senior staff officer for Robert Manners, the Director of OTS, he had drawn the task of providing the new guy with a much-needed CliffsNotes CliffsNotes version of the office. "I say 'sort of,'" Roy continued, "because, unlike the movies, if one of our visas doesn't pa.s.s muster at an immigration checkpoint, or one of our concealments accidentally opens and spills its contents, we can't reshoot the scene. If people are arrested or get killed because of our mistakes, they stay in jail for a long time or they really die." version of the office. "I say 'sort of,'" Roy continued, "because, unlike the movies, if one of our visas doesn't pa.s.s muster at an immigration checkpoint, or one of our concealments accidentally opens and spills its contents, we can't reshoot the scene. If people are arrested or get killed because of our mistakes, they stay in jail for a long time or they really die."

Roy also made it clear that America's "Q" consisted of not one scientific genius or a handful of eccentric inventors, but a large contingent of technical officers, engineers, scientists, technicians, craftsmen, artists, and social scientists deployed throughout the world and cross-trained in operational tradecraft. OTS had a hand in every aspect of the CIA's spy gear from design and development through testing, deployment, and maintenance.

"Now, this is what's really important," Roy said, beginning the comprehensive briefing with a slow, deliberate delivery that conveyed no-nonsense seriousness. "We consider ourselves part of the Directorate of Operations as much as a part of the DS&T. Whatever the DO stations and case officers need for technical support, we do everything in our power to deliver. When we go to the field to do a job, there's no question who we work for-the chief of station."

Roy explained that the techs did much more than build and deliver spy gear. "Usually we are right there with the case officer or the agent, at the user's side in the operation. We train agents, install equipment, test systems, and repair stuff that breaks. We take the same risks as case officers-share the same emotion of accomplishment or otherwise. Over the course of his career, the tech becomes involved in more operations and meets more agents than many case officers."

Roy described OTS's five primary organizational elements, or "groups," as these were designated. The largest was a covert communications, or "covcom," group with a name that described its function. This group developed systems for agents and case officers to communicate covertly and securely. Secret writing, short-range radio, subminiature cameras, special film, high-frequency broadcasts, satellite communications, and microdots were all included in covcom. A second OTS group designed and deployed audio bugs, telephone taps, and visual surveillance systems. These techs were often on the road up to fifty percent of the time, traveling from country to country, as their services were required. The third group, called on for special missions that may include support to paramilitary operations, included a mixture of technical and "soft science" capabilities. This group produced tracking devices and sensors, conducted weapons training and a.n.a.lysis, a.n.a.lyzed foreign espionage equipment, performed operational psychological a.s.sessments, and built special-use batteries. Roy came from a fourth group that made disguises and "reproduced" doc.u.ments. Its work in creating counterfeit travel doc.u.ments could be traced directly back to a predecessor organization in the Office of Strategic Services. Rounding out OTS were the concealments and electronics fabrication laboratories, known collectively as Station III, and a field structure with regional bases in South America, Europe, and Asia.2 Roy's briefing supplemented my prior knowledge of OTS from two recent a.s.signments, one operational and the other administrative. For two years in the early 1990s, I served as Deputy Chief for the CIA's nonofficial cover (NOC) program. There I worked with OTS officers who support NOC officers with doc.u.mentation, covert communications, disguise, ident.i.ties, and concealments to a.s.sure the NOCs were never identified with the U.S. government. The OTS provided the equipment and doc.u.ments that enabled NOCs to live a "normal" life as, say, a businessman, freelance photographer, scientist, or rice merchant while engaging in their clandestine work for the Agency.

In the Comptroller's Office, I encountered OTS from the perch of a budget weenie.3 Beginning in 1991, after the collapse of the Soviet Union, the Comptroller had the unenviable task of managing a declining CIA budget at a time when operations officers were, in reality, being pressed by demands for new, better, and faster intelligence on counterproliferation, counterterrorism, and counternarcotics. OTS, like other components of the CIA, struggled to absorb the impact of reduced budgets without any reduction in demands for spy gear. Beginning in 1991, after the collapse of the Soviet Union, the Comptroller had the unenviable task of managing a declining CIA budget at a time when operations officers were, in reality, being pressed by demands for new, better, and faster intelligence on counterproliferation, counterterrorism, and counternarcotics. OTS, like other components of the CIA, struggled to absorb the impact of reduced budgets without any reduction in demands for spy gear.

For the next three years as OTS Deputy Director or Acting Director, I would deal firsthand with the damage that the budget cuts of the 1990s did to the CIA's countersurveillance systems, advanced power sources, technical counterintelligence capabilities, and paramilitary-related weapons and training.4 Then, beginning in 1999, as new resources began to be available, I would have the opportunity as Director to lead OTS in creating and reconst.i.tuting capabilities for the twenty-first century. Then, beginning in 1999, as new resources began to be available, I would have the opportunity as Director to lead OTS in creating and reconst.i.tuting capabilities for the twenty-first century.

From its formation in 1951, OTS concentrated its efforts on creating devices and capabilities to improve the CIA's ability to identify, recruit, and securely handle clandestine agents. Whether the operational requirement needed research, development, engineering, production, training, or deployment, OTS responded. Motivated by a philosophy of limitless possibility, a few hundred technical specialists gave American intelligence its decisive technical advantage in the Cold War, a conflict that continues today in the worldwide battle against terrorists.

Collectively, the stories that form the OTS history convey a level of dedication and commitment by officers whose pride in their service to America was more important than personal wealth or individual acclaim. At their best, these experiences are models for successive generations of intelligence officers who would apply technology to agent operations. I cannot imagine a more rewarding responsibility or an honor greater than working with this remarkable cadre of technical officers, successors to the rich heritage of OSS General William Donovan and his chief technical genius, New England chemist Stanley Lovell.

The genesis of Spycraft Spycraft occurred during an afternoon-long conversation with John Aalto, a retired case officer, in San Antonio in February 1999. I had been appointed Director of the CIA's Office of Technical Service three months earlier. John had joined the CIA in 1950 and spent the next five decades in Soviet operations. occurred during an afternoon-long conversation with John Aalto, a retired case officer, in San Antonio in February 1999. I had been appointed Director of the CIA's Office of Technical Service three months earlier. John had joined the CIA in 1950 and spent the next five decades in Soviet operations.

John took note of my recent appointment and with unexpected seriousness asked, "Do you have any concept of what OTS and its predecessor, the Technical Services Division, accomplished for operations?"

Before I could respond, John continued. "I tell you," he began, "it is because of the techs and TSD that we in Soviet operations eventually won the intelligence war against the KGB in Moscow. And to my knowledge, no one has ever recorded that story, officially or unofficially."

Over the next three hours John described a remarkable inventory of TSD devices, technologies, inventions, gadgets, and tricks that he and others used in Moscow and throughout the Iron Curtain countries during the forty-year Cold War. He recounted fascinating tales about the leadership of Dr. Sidney Gottlieb, the cleverness of the TSD engineers, the inventiveness of the field techs, and the determination shared by TDS and Soviet Division case officers to break the stranglehold of the KGB on the CIA's operations in Moscow.

"You should do something," John urged, "to get this story recorded before all of us who were involved are gone and the inevitable organizational changes at CIA obscure this history."

Two years earlier I had met H. Keith Melton, a lifelong student of intelligence history and private collector of espionage devices and equipment. Keith lent the Agency hundreds of artifacts from his private collection of espionage equipment for display during the CIA's fiftieth anniversary in 1997. Subsequently, I a.s.sisted Keith in transforming the display into a permanent Cold War exhibit in CIA's Original Headquarters Building. On September 7, 2001, OTS celebrated its fiftieth anniversary with a gala dinner highlighted by Keith's presentation of the international history of spy gadgets and technical espionage.

Shortly after I retired, Keith and I had dinner during one of his visits to Washington. As we shared our admiration of the creativity and courage of the engineers and technical officers whom we had come to know, Keith asked if I had considered writing an account of my tenure as OTS Director. I had not, but his question reminded me of John Aalto's admonition four years earlier and sparked the idea of writing a public history of OTS from the accounts of retired technical officers. It would be a true espionage story that, combined with Keith's wealth of knowledge and images of historical spy gear, could be a valuable addition to intelligence literature. Keith agreed, and Spycraft Spycraft was born. was born.

We understood the obligations from my CIA employment to submit writing about intelligence subjects to the Agency for prepublication review to preclude the inadvertent release of cla.s.sified information. I antic.i.p.ated no particular difficulties with such review. Before beginning the project, I met with the CIA's Publications Review Board, outlined the concept, and received encouragement to proceed. In July 2004, the board approved a detailed outline of a proposed "popular account of OTS adventures and contributions to U.S. intelligence" along with the two sample chapters we had submitted. Relying on that approval, we contracted with Dutton, an imprint of Penguin USA, for publication, with full expectation of delivering a properly Agency-reviewed ma.n.u.script in late 2005. We submitted our 774-page ma.n.u.script under the t.i.tle An Uncommon Service An Uncommon Service, to the board on September 6, 2005. Agency regulations specify ma.n.u.scripts are to be reviewed within thirty days.

After six months, on March 13, 2006, the board issued us a letter stating: "except for Chapters 1-3 your ma.n.u.script is inappropriate for disclosure in the public domain." The Agency had approved only the first thirty-four pages, all of which discussed equipment from the Office of Strategic Service (OSS) World War II inventory. The 740 "inappropriate" pages included the previously approved detailed outline and sample chapters. No specific cla.s.sified material was identified. Rather, the Agency applied a previously discredited "mosaic theory" of redaction, contending that a compilation of uncla.s.sified information becomes cla.s.sified when written by someone at my senior level. The board's letter a.s.serted that "in the aggregate the ma.n.u.script provides so much information . . . it would be of immense value to our adversaries." There seemed to be no awareness that adversaries read English and have the same Internet access and Google tools we used in our research.

During my previous seven years with OTS, I reviewed several books and articles as part of the Agency's prepublication review process. In preparing this ma.n.u.script, I exercised the same conscientious judgment regarding potentially cla.s.sified information as I had done as a government employee. In its attempt to prevent the authors from publishing Spycraft Spycraft, the March 2006 letter revealed the Agency's apparent unwillingness to distinguish between responsible writing on intelligence subjects and unauthorized leaks of cla.s.sified information.

With the a.s.sistance of attorney Mark Zaid, we filed an appeal two weeks later. Such appeals, according to Agency regulations, would be adjudicated by the CIA's Executive Director within thirty days of receipt.

We received no response to our appeal for eight months. Mid-level officers of the bureaucracy took no action in what appeared to be an attempt to deny publication by causing an indefinite delay. Faced with the unwillingness of the Agency to conduct a review consistent with its prepublication policies, we prepared to seek relief in federal court. In the opinion of our legal counsel, the Agency's refusal to honor its own regulations, coupled with the capricious deletions of uncla.s.sified material from the ma.n.u.script, const.i.tuted a violation of First Amendment Const.i.tutional rights.

Before taking the legal step, we made a personal request to the CIA's a.s.sociate Deputy Director in December 2006 for intervention. As a result, on February 8, 2007, we were advised that another review had reduced objections to approximately fifty of the ma.n.u.script's pages. Further, the board offered to reconsider the remaining deletions if the authors could demonstrate the material was not cla.s.sified. Although we believe none of the disputed material is cla.s.sified, as an accommodation, we revised certain pa.s.sages and deleted some terminology that the CIA considered operationally sensitive. On July 18, 2007, we received approval to publish virtually all of the original ma.n.u.script.

The best that can be said of the experience is that Agency management eventually recognized a need to reform its prepublication policy and repair the broken review process. A historical irony is that William Hood encountered a similarly recalcitrant bureaucracy in 1981 when writing Mole Mole, an account from the 1950s of the Soviet spy Pytor Popov.5 "Every word in this ma.n.u.script is cla.s.sified," said the initial CIA review. Twenty-five years later, "Every word in this ma.n.u.script is cla.s.sified," said the initial CIA review. Twenty-five years later, Mole Mole is now recognized as an espionage cla.s.sic. is now recognized as an espionage cla.s.sic.6 The first five sections of Spycraft Spycraft recount remarkable stories of ingenuity, skill, and courage throughout the first fifty years of OTS history. Section VI presents the doctrine of clandestine tradecraft from the perspective of espionage historian H. Keith Melton and includes a chapter devoted to the revolutionary changes digital technology has brought to spy work. recount remarkable stories of ingenuity, skill, and courage throughout the first fifty years of OTS history. Section VI presents the doctrine of clandestine tradecraft from the perspective of espionage historian H. Keith Melton and includes a chapter devoted to the revolutionary changes digital technology has brought to spy work.

We wrestled from the beginning with the difficulties of when to present necessary explanations of the operational doctrine behind the technical topics that appear in the text. The impracticality of repeating explanations each time a technical topic appeared became quickly obvious. Lengthy footnotes also seemed more likely to distract rather than enlighten the reader.

Therefore, we consolidated into Section VI the five essential elements of clandestine operations used by every intelligence service regardless of nationality or culture. These chapters, drawn from Melton's widely acclaimed lectures, writings, and exhibits, set out the basic principles underlying technical support to operations. These principles transcend any specific service and represent knowledge common and available to intelligence professionals and civilians alike from print, electronic, and film media. The individual chapters will aid the reader in understanding the basic philosophy and principles of a.s.sessment, cover, concealments, surveillance, and covert communications as practiced by professional services. Readers have the option of diving directly into the OTS story and the development of CIA's clandestine spy gear in Chapters 1-19 or first immersing themselves with the doctrine and terminology of espionage operations presented in Chapters 20-25.

Spycraft combines the experiences and lore of the techs based on the authors' personal interviews and correspondence with nearly one hundred engineers, technical operations officers, and case officers. We verified specific details to the extent possible by collaboration with public material and multiple primary sources. The names of several individuals quoted by the authors throughout the book are changed as a matter of security, cover, or requested privacy. Appendix E provides a list of pseudonyms the authors a.s.signed to these officers. Otherwise, we use true names throughout. combines the experiences and lore of the techs based on the authors' personal interviews and correspondence with nearly one hundred engineers, technical operations officers, and case officers. We verified specific details to the extent possible by collaboration with public material and multiple primary sources. The names of several individuals quoted by the authors throughout the book are changed as a matter of security, cover, or requested privacy. Appendix E provides a list of pseudonyms the authors a.s.signed to these officers. Otherwise, we use true names throughout.

We did not seek access to, or use, cla.s.sified files. At times, the fallibility of memory may produce less than a perfectly accurate account of events many years past. In a few instances, we purposefully obscured facts to protect operational information, or omitted sensitive details for the same reason. For example, the locations of operations, except those in Moscow, the former Soviet Union, and other denied area countries, are regionalized. Some operational terms and Agency jargon that appear in works by other authors not bound by secrecy agreements have not been used at the request of the Agency.

Why do history? Two thousand years ago Cicero observed, "To be ignorant of what occurred before you is to remain always a child. For what is the worth of life unless it is woven into the lives of our ancestors by the records of history?" A twentieth-century view, as expressed by G. K. Chesterton, is: "In not knowing the past we do not know the present. History is a high point of vantage from which alone we can see the age in which we are living." Richard Helms, who headed CIA operations in the early days of the Cold War and served as Director of Central Intelligence from 1967 to 1973, explained that he wrote A Look Over My Shoulder A Look Over My Shoulder because it is "important that the American people understand why secret intelligence is an essential element of our national defense." because it is "important that the American people understand why secret intelligence is an essential element of our national defense."7 Our hope is that Our hope is that Spycraft Spycraft becomes a part of that legacy. becomes a part of that legacy.

-RW Official Message from the CIA The Central Intelligence Agency requested the following message be included in Spycraft. Spycraft. To provide the reader a sense of the reality of covert communications, the authors have presented the message using a page from a one-time pad issued to Aleksandr Ogorodnik ( To provide the reader a sense of the reality of covert communications, the authors have presented the message using a page from a one-time pad issued to Aleksandr Ogorodnik (TRIGON) in 1977. Chapter 8 presents the TRIGON TRIGON story. Use the one-time pad on page 99 and the instructions in Appendix F to decipher this message. story. Use the one-time pad on page 99 and the instructions in Appendix F to decipher this message.

SECTION I.

AT THE BEGINNING.

CONFIDENTIAL 7 September 1951

1. Effective immediately the Operational Aids Division is redesignate<1 the="" technical="" services="">

CHAPTER 1.

My Hair Stood on End

The weapons of secrecy have no place in an ideal world.

-Sir William Stephenson, A Man Called Intrepid On a quiet autumn evening in 1942, as World War II raged across Europe and Asia, two men sat in one of Washington's most stately homes discussing a type of warfare very different from that of high-alt.i.tude bombers and infantry a.s.saults. The host, Colonel William J. Donovan, known as "Wild Bill" since his days as an officer during World War I, was close to sixty. A war hero whose valor had earned him the Medal of Honor, Donovan was now back in uniform.1 Donovan responded to the call to duty and put aside a successful Wall Street law practice to become Director of the Office of Strategic Services (OSS) and America's first spymaster. Donovan responded to the call to duty and put aside a successful Wall Street law practice to become Director of the Office of Strategic Services (OSS) and America's first spymaster.2 Donovan's guest, for whom he graciously poured sherry, was Stanley Platt Lovell.3 A New Englander in his early fifties, Lovell was an American success story. Orphaned at an early age, he worked his way through Cornell University to ascend the ranks of business and science by sheer determination and ingenuity. As president of the Lovell Chemical Company, he held more than seventy patents, though still described himself as a "sauce pan chemist." A New Englander in his early fifties, Lovell was an American success story. Orphaned at an early age, he worked his way through Cornell University to ascend the ranks of business and science by sheer determination and ingenuity. As president of the Lovell Chemical Company, he held more than seventy patents, though still described himself as a "sauce pan chemist."

Donovan understood that the fight against the Axis powers required effective intelligence operations along with a new style of clandestine warfare. Just as important, he appreciated the role men like Lovell could play in those operations. "I need every subtle device and every underhanded trick to use against the Germans and the j.a.panese-by our own people-but especially by the underground in the occupied countries," he had told Lovell a few days earlier. "You'll have to invent them all . . . because you're going to be my man."4 The wartime job offered to the mild-mannered chemist was to head the Research and Development (R&D) Branch of the OSS, a role Donovan compared to that of Professor Moriarty, the criminal mastermind of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes stories.5 Lovell, although initially intrigued by the offer, was now having doubts and came to Donovan's Georgetown home to express those reservations. Lovell, although initially intrigued by the offer, was now having doubts and came to Donovan's Georgetown home to express those reservations.6 He had been in government service since that spring at a civilian agency called the National Development and Research Committee (NDRC). Created by President Roosevelt at the urging of a group of prominent scientists and engineers, the NDRC's mission was to look into new weapons for what seemed to be America's inevitable entry into the war. Lovell had joined the NDRC to act as liaison-a bridge-between the military, academics, and business. He had been in government service since that spring at a civilian agency called the National Development and Research Committee (NDRC). Created by President Roosevelt at the urging of a group of prominent scientists and engineers, the NDRC's mission was to look into new weapons for what seemed to be America's inevitable entry into the war. Lovell had joined the NDRC to act as liaison-a bridge-between the military, academics, and business.7 But what Donovan proposed now was something altogether different. But what Donovan proposed now was something altogether different.

The mantle of Professor Moriarty was, at best, a dubious distinction. An undisputed genius, the fictional Moriarty earned the grudging respect of Holmes by secretly ruling a vast criminal empire of London's underworld with brutal efficiency and ingenuity. In his role as Professor Moriarty of the OSS, Lovell would oversee the creation of a clandestine a.r.s.enal that would include everything from satchel concealments to carry secret doc.u.ments and subminiature spy cameras to specialized weapons and explosives. These were the weapons to be used in a war fought not by American troops in uniform, but by soldiers of underground resistance movements, spies, and saboteurs.

Spying and sabotage were unfamiliar territory for both America and Lovell, who had made his fortune developing chemicals for shoe and clothing manufacturers. America, Lovell believed, did not resort to the subterfuge of espionage or the mayhem of sabotage. When the United States looked into the mirror of its own mythology, it did not see spies skulking in the shadows of back alleys; instead, it saw men like Donovan, who faced the enemy in combat on the front lines.

"The American people are a nation of extroverts. We tell everything and rather glory in it," he explained to Donovan. "A Professor Moriarty is as un-American as sin is unpopular at a revival meeting. I'd relish the a.s.signment, Colonel, but dirty tricks are simply not tolerated in the American code of ethics."8 Donovan, as Lovell would later write, answered succinctly. "Don't be so G.o.dd.a.m.n naive, Lovell. The American public may profess to think as you say they do, but the one thing they expect of their leaders is that we be smart," the colonel lectured. "Don't kid yourself. P. T. Barnum is still a basic hero because he fooled so many people. They will applaud someone who can outfox the n.a.z.is and the j.a.ps. . . . Outside the orthodox warfare system is a great area of schemes, weapons, and plans which no one who knows America really expects us to originate because they are so un-American, but once it's done, an American will vicariously glory in it. That is your area, Lovell, and if you think America won't rise in applause to what is so easily called 'un-American' you're not my man."9 Lovell took the job. Donovan knew what he wanted, but even more important, he knew what was needed.10 He had toured the secret labs of Great Britain that created just such devices. He also maintained close ties with the British Security Coordination (BSC), England's secretive intelligence organization in North America, through which the United States was already funneling weapons to a.s.sist in the war effort. Even the mention of Sherlock Holmes's ruthless criminal adversary may not have been a chance literary allusion. Two years earlier, in 1940, British Prime Minister Winston Churchill signed into existence the Special Operations Executive (SOE) with the instructions "Now go out and set Europe ablaze!" He had toured the secret labs of Great Britain that created just such devices. He also maintained close ties with the British Security Coordination (BSC), England's secretive intelligence organization in North America, through which the United States was already funneling weapons to a.s.sist in the war effort. Even the mention of Sherlock Holmes's ruthless criminal adversary may not have been a chance literary allusion. Two years earlier, in 1940, British Prime Minister Winston Churchill signed into existence the Special Operations Executive (SOE) with the instructions "Now go out and set Europe ablaze!"11 SOE's mandate was unconventional warfare, including the arming of resistance fighters in the war against Germany. Its London headquarters was an undistinguished office building on Baker Street, the same street as Sherlock Holmes's fictional address. SOE's mandate was unconventional warfare, including the arming of resistance fighters in the war against Germany. Its London headquarters was an undistinguished office building on Baker Street, the same street as Sherlock Holmes's fictional address.

Although Donovan eventually persuaded Lovell to join the OSS, the chemist's initial a.s.sessment of the American public's dim view toward espionage was not unfounded. From the beginning, the idea of an American intelligence service was controversial. One senator proclaimed, "Mr. Donovan is now head of the Gestapo in the United States."12 In the best tradition of Washington's bureaucratic infighting, the person in charge of the State Department's Pa.s.sport Office, Mrs. Ruth Shipley, insisted on stamping "OSS" on the pa.s.sports of Donovan's personnel traveling overseas, making them perhaps the most well-doc.u.mented secret agents in the history of espionage. To remedy the situation, which had reached a deadlock between the OSS and the State Department, FDR himself had to intervene on the young agency's behalf with the stubborn Mrs. Shipley. In the best tradition of Washington's bureaucratic infighting, the person in charge of the State Department's Pa.s.sport Office, Mrs. Ruth Shipley, insisted on stamping "OSS" on the pa.s.sports of Donovan's personnel traveling overseas, making them perhaps the most well-doc.u.mented secret agents in the history of espionage. To remedy the situation, which had reached a deadlock between the OSS and the State Department, FDR himself had to intervene on the young agency's behalf with the stubborn Mrs. Shipley.13 The media of the day was no more charitable, often treating the OSS dismissively. The Washington columnist Drew Pearson called the nascent spy agency "one of the fanciest groups of dilettante diplomats, Wall Street bankers, and amateur detectives ever seen in Washington."14 More colorful phrases were penned by Washington's More colorful phrases were penned by Washington's Times-Herald Times-Herald society columnist, Austine Ca.s.sini, who breathlessly wrote: society columnist, Austine Ca.s.sini, who breathlessly wrote: .

If you should by chance wander in the labyrinth of the OSS you'd behold ex-polo players, millionaires, Russian princes, society gambol boys, scientists and dilettante detectives. All of them are now at the OSS, where they used to be allocated between New York, Palm Beach, Long Island, Newport and other Meccas frequented by the blue bloods of democracy. And the girls! The prettiest, best-born, snappiest girls who used to graduate from debutantedom to boredom now bend their blonde and brunette locks, or their colorful hats, over work in the OSS, the super-ultra-intelligence-counter-espionage outfit that is headed by brilliant "Wild Bill" Donovan.15 .

Ca.s.sini made it all sound like good clean fun. A bastion of pampered blue bloods, the OSS seemed no more dangerous than a country club cotillion. But at a time when less privileged sons and husbands were fighting and dying in the South Pacific and North Africa, the levity in the words "gambol boys" and "dilettante detectives" was almost a.s.suredly bitter reading for many. Not surprisingly, the organization's acronym was soon transformed into the less than flattering "Oh So Social" by career military officers and draftees alike. The fact that an early OSS training facility was based at the plush Congressional Country Club, located just outside Washington, only served to reinforce the notion of privilege and elitism.16 If OSS seemed a bastion of aristocrats and bankers, it was not without reason. Donovan worked on Wall Street in the days leading up to World War II. When he became Coordinator of Information (COI), an OSS predecessor, in 1941, Donovan staffed the organization from circles with which he was familiar-the New York legal, business, and financial worlds-along with graduates from the nation's finest universities. However, there was more to this than simply establishing an "Old Boys' Club" of espionage. Prior to World War II, travel opportunities for abroad and learning foreign languages were largely limited to the privileged. As a result many of those recruited came with intimate knowledge of the European landscape, including the cities and towns of France, Germany, and Italy, from past travels. Others had done business in Europe before the war and could reestablish contacts.

Less visible than the privileged blue bloods were the refugees, those recent immigrants and first-generation native-born Americans (many of them academics) who also joined the ranks of the OSS. Unlike the Wall Street bankers and ex-polo players, these recruits brought day-to-day knowledge of foreign cultures, along with clothing, ident.i.ty papers, and language skills.17 Even as it became the target of Washington infighting and attracted the derision of newspaper columnists, Donovan's organization expanded rapidly. 18 18 If the United States was going to enter what Rudyard Kipling called "the Great Game" of international espionage Donovan needed to move quickly. Spurred on by the urgency of war, the OSS would share clandestine responsibilities with the Allies. The London Agreements, negotiated in 1942 and 1943, If the United States was going to enter what Rudyard Kipling called "the Great Game" of international espionage Donovan needed to move quickly. Spurred on by the urgency of war, the OSS would share clandestine responsibilities with the Allies. The London Agreements, negotiated in 1942 and 1943,19 established a protocol for clandestine cooperation between OSS and the SOE, defining each side's role, down to the development of weaponry and financial responsibilities. Theaters of secret operations were divided between the United States and Great Britain. OSS had responsibility for China, Manchuria, Korea, Australia, the Atlantic Islands, and Finland, while SOE covered India, East Africa, the Balkans, and the Middle East. Western Europe would remain primarily British, with U.S. representation. established a protocol for clandestine cooperation between OSS and the SOE, defining each side's role, down to the development of weaponry and financial responsibilities. Theaters of secret operations were divided between the United States and Great Britain. OSS had responsibility for China, Manchuria, Korea, Australia, the Atlantic Islands, and Finland, while SOE covered India, East Africa, the Balkans, and the Middle East. Western Europe would remain primarily British, with U.S. representation. 20 20 As "junior partner" in this joint wartime venture, Donovan needed to build not only America's first spy agency, but one capable of waging a global intelligence war. This was no easy task. Whatever espionage legacy remained from previous wars was largely out of date or forgotten. He would have to a.s.semble the organization from the ground up with a.s.sistance from the British. The United States provided technology while Britain offered experience and counsel, training Americans in the craft of intelligence.

The blue bloods, so easily dismissed by the society columnists as frivolous playboys and genteel sportsmen, learned quickly from their British tutors.

"Ah, those first OSS arrivals in London!" wrote veteran British intelligence officer Malcolm Muggeridge. "How well I remember them arriving like jeune filles en fleur jeune filles en fleur straight from a finishing school, all fresh and innocent to start work in our frowsty old intelligence brothel. All too soon they were ravished and corrupted, becoming indistinguishable from seasoned pros who had been in the game for a quarter century or more." straight from a finishing school, all fresh and innocent to start work in our frowsty old intelligence brothel. All too soon they were ravished and corrupted, becoming indistinguishable from seasoned pros who had been in the game for a quarter century or more."21 As the British schooled that first generation of American spies, American ingenuity was about to transform espionage. Lovell's new R&D unit was officially established on October 17, 1942. General Order No. 9 in early 1943 described its mission as the invention, development, and testing of "all secret and special devices, material and equipment for special operations, and the provision of laboratory facilities." R&D was divided into four divisions: Technical, Doc.u.mentation, Special a.s.sistance, and Camouflage. Each would work closely with Division 19 (originally codenamed Sandman Club) of the Office of Scientific Research and Development (OSRD), which served as their link with contractors in the private sector. Division 19 maintained its own testing laboratory at the Maryland Research Laboratory (MRL), located on the site of the Congressional Country Club.

At the time Donovan and Lovell were sipping sherry in Georgetown, the OSS in its infancy was already showing evidence of American character, differing from its SOE cousin in subtle but significant ways. While the British had kept SOE separate from the country's traditional intelligence-gathering arm, the Secret Intelligence Service (SIS), the OSS combined espionage and unconventional warfare into a single organization. Whereas the SIS was a civilian agency, OSS was a military organization, functioning with relative independence under the Joint Chiefs of Staff (JCS).22 The new agency also differed from its British counterpart in the way it acquired its clandestine technology. Great Britain created government laboratories for the scientific and technical work in espionage, scattering them throughout the country. These highly secretive "Stations," as they were called, operated largely independently and with defined responsibilities. Station VIIa, for instance, responsible for covert radio production, was located in Bontex Knitting Mills in Wembley, while a part of the camouflage section, Station XVa, was housed in the Natural History Museum in London. 23 23 England's best scientific and engineering minds had been recruited to work at these top-secret government labs and used whatever limited wartime resources they could muster. England's best scientific and engineering minds had been recruited to work at these top-secret government labs and used whatever limited wartime resources they could muster.

By contrast, Lovell, rather than recruit engineers and scientists into government service and build laboratories from the ground up, sought out private companies with the technical expertise and manufacturing capabilities to produce the needed gear, either from all original designs or by modifying existing consumer products for clandestine work. Traditionally clever artisans turned out one custom-made clandestine device at a time. Under Lovell's leadership the new generation of spy gear would be engineered and produced using modern manufacturing techniques.

American industry and Lovell were particularly well suited for the mission. The advances in science and engineering since World War I were broadly integrated into the nation's manufacturing and technical infrastructure and Lovell offered OSS far more than just management and technical expertise. As a scientist and businessman of the post-World War I generation, he arrived at his task with a lifetime of business and research contacts. These personal relationships with executives and scientists would prove invaluable for OSS.

Producing clandestine devices required a mind-set on the part of the designer and motivation on the part of the manufacturer quite different from other wartime industries. Work on spy gear was highly secretive, specialized, and the dollar value of the production runs relatively small. Compared to wartime contracts for millions of canteens or boots, the OSS might require only a few hundred clandestine radios or few thousand explosive devices. To recruit contractors and their technical talent, Lovell would need to appeal to an owner's patriotism and personal history, more than profit.

In the months following his meeting with Donovan, Lovell and his OSS/ R&D branch developed an a.r.s.enal of special weapons and devices with which to "raise merry h.e.l.l," along with increasingly inventive schemes.24 Time-delay fuses for explosives were needed, so agents or saboteurs could safely leave the area before detonation. Building on the work of the British SOE, Lovell's engineers developed the Time-delay fuses for explosives were needed, so agents or saboteurs could safely leave the area before detonation. Building on the work of the British SOE, Lovell's engineers developed the Time Delay Pencil Time Delay Pencil, a copper tube containing a gla.s.s ampoule of corrosive liquid and copper wire connected to a spring-loaded firing pin, which could also be used to ignite incendiary devices. Small and reliable, the Pencils Pencils were color-coded to indicate different timing intervals. were color-coded to indicate different timing intervals.25 A pocketable cylinder called a A pocketable cylinder called a Firefly Firefly, developed by Lovell's team, mated a small explosive incendiary device with a self-contained time-delay fuse for a saboteur to drop into a car's gas tank.26 Another explosive device called a Limpet Limpet, named after the mollusk that fastens itself to rocks, was specifically designed to attach to the sides of ships beneath the waterline and blow a twenty-five-square-foot hole through either steel plates .27 The The Limpet Limpet featured an delay detonator that could be set for hours or days or rigged to set off multiple detonations sympathetically with the concussion of one timed explosion triggering the others nearly simultaneously. featured an delay detonator that could be set for hours or days or rigged to set off multiple detonations sympathetically with the concussion of one timed explosion triggering the others nearly simultaneously. 28 28

OSS scientists discovered that explosives in powder form could be mixed with wheat flour and safely shipped, shaped, and even baked until needed for sabotage operations. The "explosive flour" could pa.s.s inspection as ordinary flour except under microscopic examination.

The Limpet Limpet's delay relied on acetone to eat away a celluloid disk and trigger the detonation. While the timing of the explosion varied with the water temperature, it still offered a marked improvement over a British version that used aniseed b.a.l.l.s-a traditional British hard candy-dissolving in water as a fuse.29 Several Lovell-inspired devices relied on the environment or the target's natural function to set them off. The Anerometer Anerometer, a small barometer-activated device designed to sabotage airplanes, triggered an explosion when the aircraft reached an alt.i.tude of 1,500 feet above its starting elevation.30 A sabotage tool intended for trains featured an early version of a photosensitive "eye." Called the A sabotage tool intended for trains featured an early version of a photosensitive "eye." Called the Casey Jones Casey Jones or or Mole, Mole, the eye reacted to the sudden absence of light. the eye reacted to the sudden absence of light.31 When attached to the undercarriage of a train, it ignored gradual light changes, but exploded in dark tunnels, derailing the train. Clearing a train wreck from within a tunnel compounded the effectiveness of the sabotage. Explosives were also disguised as coal for sabotaging a locomotive's firebox or a power plant. Since the enemy often left stocks of coal unprotected the disguised explosive coal was simply tossed onto the pile. When attached to the undercarriage of a train, it ignored gradual light changes, but exploded in dark tunnels, derailing the train. Clearing a train wreck from within a tunnel compounded the effectiveness of the sabotage. Explosives were also disguised as coal for sabotaging a locomotive's firebox or a power plant. Since the enemy often left stocks of coal unprotected the disguised explosive coal was simply tossed onto the pile.32 In one exceptional example of camouflage, Lovell's engineers began work in November of 1942 on a new type of high explosive disguised as flour. Eventually, DuPont produced fifteen tons of the granular explosive, nicknamed Aunt Jemima Aunt Jemima, for use by OSS in China. Designed to match the gray color of Chinese wheat flour, Aunt Jemima Aunt Jemima could be safely used to bake pancakes or biscuits indistinguishable from the real thing in appearance and taste, other than a slightly gritty texture. could be safely used to bake pancakes or biscuits indistinguishable from the real thing in appearance and taste, other than a slightly gritty texture.33 With the proper detonator attached, however, the biscuit contained sufficient explosives to become a small bomb. With the proper detonator attached, however, the biscuit contained sufficient explosives to become a small bomb.

OPERATING INSTRUCTIONS.

1. Hold the item as shown in the sketch.

2. Pull safety pin out with your left hand or with your teeth.

3. With the thumb and forefinger, rotate the end counterclockwise as far as it will go. The item is now armed and ready to fire.

4. Hold the item so that the end, between your thumb and forefinger, is NOT in line with your body. Push forward with your thumb and forefinger to fire.

CAUTION:.

Observe the following precautions to prevent injury to yourself: When fired, the item will recoil out of your hand, but if it is directed away from your body, no injury or discomfort will result. Be sure to hold the item as shown and do not put your thumb over the end to push for firing.

Other devices provided by Lovell and his men were less subtle. The Liberator Liberator pistol fired a single .45 caliber bullet. General Motors ma.s.s-produced this inexpensive but deadly weapon from sheet metal in its Guide Lamp Division. pistol fired a single .45 caliber bullet. General Motors ma.s.s-produced this inexpensive but deadly weapon from sheet metal in its Guide Lamp Division.34 For airdrop to resistance forces behind enemy lines, the For airdrop to resistance forces behind enemy lines, the Liberator Liberator 's packaging included ten rounds of ammunition, pictorial firing instructions, and a stick to poke out the empty sh.e.l.l casing after firing. 's packaging included ten rounds of ammunition, pictorial firing instructions, and a stick to poke out the empty sh.e.l.l casing after firing.35 With an effective range of twenty-five yards, but wildly inaccurate beyond six feet, the Liberator was "the gun to get a gun." Due to its low cost and Spartan design, the firearm soon acquired the unflattering nickname "Woolworth Gun." With an effective range of twenty-five yards, but wildly inaccurate beyond six feet, the Liberator was "the gun to get a gun." Due to its low cost and Spartan design, the firearm soon acquired the unflattering nickname "Woolworth Gun."36 A more substantial weapon was the silenced .22 caliber automatic pistol Lovell's team created by modifying the commercially available Hi-Standard Hi-Standard pistol to add a silencer and special bullets. The silencer reduced ninety percent of the weapon's noise, so its gunshot would be drowned out by traffic noises, closing doors, and other activities of everyday life. It was ideal for use inside closed rooms or when eliminating sentries. pistol to add a silencer and special bullets. The silencer reduced ninety percent of the weapon's noise, so its gunshot would be drowned out by traffic noises, closing doors, and other activities of everyday life. It was ideal for use inside closed rooms or when eliminating sentries.37

The Tear Gas Pen Tear Gas Pen was a personal defensive weapon designed for carrying in a pocket or purse. The pen had an effective range of six feet, firing strong tear gas to incapacitate the target or attacker long enough to allow an escape. was a personal defensive weapon designed for carrying in a pocket or purse. The pen had an effective range of six feet, firing strong tear gas to incapacitate the target or attacker long enough to allow an escape.

A third weapon, the Stinger Stinger, was a small single-shot disposable .22 caliber pistol about the same size as a cigarette and intended for use at close range. Inexpensive to produce in large quant.i.ties, the Stinger Stinger was concealable and could be fired from the palm of a hand at a person sitting in a room or pa.s.sing in a crowd. was concealable and could be fired from the palm of a hand at a person sitting in a room or pa.s.sing in a crowd.38 Lovell's wartime efforts also included spy gear and gadgets for agents to conduct conventional espionage. When unable to obtain Minox subminiature cameras in sufficient numbers, OSS joined forces with Kodak to develop America's first spy camera. Small enough to fit into a penny matchbox, the tiny Match Box Camera Match Box Camera or or Camera-X Camera-X held two feet of 16mm film, enough for thirty-four exposures. The lens design allowed agents to capture distant images of enemy installations, while doc.u.ments could be photographed with a special attachment. Easily concealed, the camera was operable with one hand and could be requisitioned with a choice of camouflaged matchboxes that included Swedish or j.a.panese origins. held two feet of 16mm film, enough for thirty-four exposures. The lens design allowed agents to capture distant images of enemy installations, while doc.u.ments could be photographed with a special attachment. Easily concealed, the camera was operable with one hand and could be requisitioned with a choice of camouflaged matchboxes that included Swedish or j.a.panese origins.39 OSS printers counterfeited currency and reproduced ident.i.ty doc.u.ments with "official" seals and forged signatures.40 Beginning in 1943, they issued hundreds of virtually perfect German stamps, pay books, ident.i.ty papers, ration cards, and even Gestapo orders. Beginning in 1943, they issued hundreds of virtually perfect German stamps, pay books, ident.i.ty papers, ration cards, and even Gestapo orders.41 OSS tailors created clothing so flawless the st.i.tching resembled the genuine article from the country of supposed manufacture. OSS tailors created clothing so flawless the st.i.tching resembled the genuine article from the country of supposed manufacture.42 No idea seemed too far-fetched for Donovan, whose motto became "Go ahead and try it." The R&D lab created a soft metal tube with a screw cap that projected a thin stream of liquid chemical with a repulsive and lasting odor as a psychological hara.s.sing agent. When squirted directly on the body or clothing of a person, it engulfed them with the odor of fecal matter. The plan called for Chinese children in occupied cities to squirt the liquid at j.a.panese officers. Lovell dubbed it "Who Me?" 43 43 When a civilian dentist suggested to President Roosevelt that one million bats with tiny incendiary devices attached to them could be released over j.a.pan to ignite a firestorm among houses constructed almost entirely of wood and paper, experiments leading to what would become known as BAT BAT or or Project X-ray Project X-ray were undertaken. were undertaken.44 Bats were clandestinely collected from Carlsbad Caverns in New Mexico and transported to an OSS test site. Developers designed a parachute container to house the bats during their descent from a highflying airplane, while Division 19 engineers produced tiny (15 grams) incendiary and Bats were clandestinely collected from Carlsbad Caverns in New Mexico and transported to an OSS test site. Developers designed a parachute container to house the bats during their descent from a highflying airplane, while Division 19 engineers produced tiny (15 grams) incendiary and Time Delay Pencil Time Delay Pencil devices. devices.45 The initial testing at Carlsbad Air Base was both a high and low point for the project. The armed bats successfully, but accidentally, burned down a hangar after crawling into the rafters of the newly constructed building. The initial testing at Carlsbad Air Base was both a high and low point for the project. The armed bats successfully, but accidentally, burned down a hangar after crawling into the rafters of the newly constructed building. 46 46 For a brief time the plan seemed to have potential. In large quant.i.ties, the price of the incendiary device and time-delay fuses were less than four cents per unit and the bats could be obtained at no cost during their hibernation cycle. The separate elements necessary for the project to work were all in place and tested, but military planners would not authorize a bat operation, declaring insufficient data existed about the processes needed to arm and transport one million bats for an air strike. The project was cancelled in March of 1944.47 Additional experiments were undertaken to use a larger animal, the common Norwegian rat, to deliver bigger payloads than the tiny bats. Tests showed that a rat could carry up to seventy-five grams of explosives attached to its tail. The rats, which normally live in buildings, factories, and warehouses, were thought to provide a way of introducing explosives into guarded installations.48 But, like the bat attack, this project also floundered in military planning. But, like the bat attack, this project also floundered in military planning.

Another unconventional project that failed, although it had been supported by the Chairman of the Senate Appropriation Committee, was the Cat Guided Bomb Cat Guided Bomb. The idea was to harness a cat to the underside of a bomb in such a way that the feline's movements would steer the explosive to its target. In theory, when a cat was dropped over open water with a ship in sight, it would steer itself, and the bomb, toward the safety of the ship's deck. Initial tests proved cats were ineffective and the concept died as quickly as the first test subjects.49 Another failed idea included plans to poison Hitler with female hormones by injecting them into the vegetarian Fuhrer's vegetables. Another failed idea included plans to poison Hitler with female hormones by injecting them into the vegetarian Fuhrer's vegetables.50 Some programs that approached the edge of America's ethical standards were accepted as the price for winning an unconditional surrender from Germany and j.a.pan. Botulism and toxins were toyed with, along with the possibility of using germs and nerve gas, although such projects never represented a major effort by the OSS.

There were also some experiments with truth drugs and hypnosis but these never progressed very far.51 The idea of a truth serum was not new. Law enforcement had been searching for such a magic elixir for years with little success. Nevertheless, Lovell budgeted a modest $5,000 for the project but it turned up nothing substantial. "As was to be expected, the project was considered fantastic by the realists, unethical by the moralists, and downright ludicrous by the physicians," Lovell wrote in a preliminary report. The idea of a truth serum was not new. Law enforcement had been searching for such a magic elixir for years with little success. Nevertheless, Lovell budgeted a modest $5,000 for the project but it turned up nothing substantial. "As was to be expected, the project was considered fantastic by the realists, unethical by the moralists, and downright ludicrous by the physicians," Lovell wrote in a preliminary report. 52 52 In May 1943, after less than a year on the job, Lovell visited David Bruce, the OSS chief of station in London, where the New England chemist captured Bruce's attention. The day after the meeting, Bruce wrote to General Donovan: "Stanley Lovell arrived yesterday, and he and I have just had a long talk at lunch, in the course of which he made my hair stand on end with his tales of the new scientific developments on which he has been working." Clearly taken by Lovell's ideas, Bruce continued: "His [Lovell's] arrival has been anxiously awaited and I have put him in touch immediately with various people [at SOE] who are engaged in similar work."53 One of the most forward thinking projects undertaken by Lovell's team was Javaman Javaman, a remote-controlled weapon consisting of a boat packed with four tons of explosives. Using early television technology, a camera mounted on the boat's bow broadcast images to a plane circling fifty miles away where a crew member watching a monitor guided the boat to its destination, then triggered the explosives by remote control. Despite encouraging tests, the project was eventually dropped.54 According to Lovell, the Navy abandoned the idea because it judged the explosive load as too dangerous to carry either by ship or submarine. According to Lovell, the Navy abandoned the idea because it judged the explosive load as too dangerous to carry either by ship or submarine.55 By the summer of 1944, with bases of operations established throughout the world, OSS printed a Sears and Roebuck-style catalog of espionage and sabotage devices, listing the specifications of each piece of equipment along with pictures.56 Station chiefs could peruse the catalog and choose whatever device they required. At war's end in 1945, OSS had produced-in less than thirty-six months after its creation-more than twenty-five special weapons and dozens of sabotage devices, along with scores of other gadgets, including concealments, radios, and escape and evasion tools. Station chiefs could peruse the catalog and choose whatever device they required. At war's end in 1945, OSS had produced-in less than thirty-six months after its creation-more than twenty-five special weapons and dozens of sabotage devices, along with scores of other gadgets, including concealments, radios, and escape and evasion tools. 57 57 Mirroring the accelerated wartime production schedules that turned out ships, canteens, boots, and bombs in record time, it was a remarkable achievement. With initial guidance from the British, the OSS progressed in two years from offering a handful of basic tools of the spy trade to the design, manufacture, and deployment of an astonishing array of devices. The OSS officer corps developed at a similar frenetic pace, establishing intelligence networks throughout Europe, the Middle East, and Asia. Yet, in the autumn of 1945, the fruits of America's dramatic entry into the international spy game were nearly lost in the wake of America's rapid military demobilization.

CHAPTER 2.

We Must Be Ruthless

We cannot afford methods less ruthless than those of our opposition.

-John Le Carre, The Spy Who Came in from the Cold With the end of the war growing near, Donovan remembered the lessons of Pearl Harbor and the value of intelligence in occupied Europe and other theaters of war. At the behest of President Roosevelt, he prepared a detailed memorandum calling for the creation of a permanent postwar agency to act as a central clearinghouse for intelligence. In the covering letter of this 1944 memo, Donovan wrote: "When our enemies are defeated, the demand will be equally pressing for information that will aid us in solving the problems of peace . . ."1 However, Washington politics during the last days of World War II eroded Donovan's influence along with his dream of forming a civilian central intelligence service. Many in government considered the OSS a temporary wartime agency, not needed in peace time any more than the Office of Price Administration, which oversaw the rationing of sugar and car tires. For them espionage was an inconvenient wartime necessity like gas coupons and war bond drives. Unable to see future challenges to national security, they believed America's involvement in spying should end with the war.