Beruflich Dokumente
Kultur Dokumente
LONDON
by Andrew Gordievsky
Controlling Intelligence
edited by Glenn P.Hastedt
Spy Fiction, Spy Films and Real Intelligence
edited by Wesley K.Wark
Security and Intelligence in a Changing World: New Perspectives for the 1990s
edited by A.Stuart Farson, David Stafford and Wesley K.Wark
A Don at War
by Sir David Hunt K.C.M.G., O.B.E. (reprint)
Intelligence and Military Operations
edited by Michael I.Handel
Leaders and Intelligence
edited by Michael I.Handel
War, Strategy and Intelligence
by Michael I.Handel
Strategic and Operational Deception in the Second World War
edited by Michael I.Handel
Codebreaker in the Far East
by Alan Stripp
Intelligence for Peace
edited by Hesi Carmel
Espionage and the Roots of the Cold War: The Conspiratorial Heritage
by David McKnight
Swedish Signal Intelligence 1900–1945
by C.G.McKay and Bengt Beckman
AMERICAN
INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-
TIME LONDON
THE STORY OF THE OSS
Nelson MacPherson
Acknowledgements viii
List of Abbreviations x
Introduction 1
Chapter 1: The British Intelligence Community: Setting the Tone for 16
OSS
Chapter 2: The Genesis of OSS/London, and the British Dimension 41
Chapter 3: Servants of OVERLORD: SO, SI, and the Invasion of 63
Europe
Chapter 4: Reductio Ad Absurdum: R&A/London’s Quest for 90
Relevance
Chapter 5: Falling Short of the Target: EOU, SIRA, and the Pitfalls 112
of R&A
Chapter 6: Inspired Improvisation: William Casey and the 143
Penetration of Germany
Chapter 7: Following the British Example: X-2 and Morale 169
Operations
Chapter 8: Full Circle: Anglo-American Intelligence and the 193
Transition to Cold War
Conclusion 233
Bibliography 243
Index 267
This book is dedicated to the memory of my mother, Mrs
Orma B.MacPherson, 14 October 1930–7 January 2001.
Everything I have accomplished in my life I owe to her.
I will always be her son.
Acknowledgements
This book owes much to a great deal of support and encouragement from a
variety of sources. I am grateful for the opportunity to acknowledge them here.
The research for this book was made possible by the generous financial
support of the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada, the
Alberta Heritage Scholarship Fund, and the NATO Research Fellowship
programme. The Centre for International Studies at the University of Toronto,
the Associates of the University of Toronto, the Royal Canadian Legion, and the
University of Salford’s European Studies Research Institute also provided
funding.
For their help in my research, I would also like to thank: Mr John Taylor and
the staff of the Military Reference Branch, US National Archives and Records
Administration, Washington, DC; Dr Richard J. Somers, Dr David Keough, and
the staff of the US Army Military History Institute, Carlisle Barracks; and
Professor John Kieger, European Studies Research Institute, University of
Salford. Appreciation is also due the staffs of the Public Record Office, Kew; the
Churchill College Archive Centre, University of Cambridge; the Robarts
Research Library, University of Toronto; the Metropolitan Toronto Research
Library; and the Mackimmie Library, University of Calgary. Material from the
Public Record Office is cited by permission of the Controller of Her Majesty’s
Stationary Office. Material from the McLachlan-Beesly Papers is cited courtesy
of the Churchill Archives Centre, Churchill College, Cambridge. The bulk of
Chapter 4 appears in the International Journal of Intelligence and Counter
Intelligence (Fall 2003), and its material is used here with permission of Editor-
in-Chief Richard Valcourt. An earlier version of Chapter 6 appeared as ‘Inspired
Improvisation: William Casey and the Penetration of Germany’, Intelligence and
National Security 9, 4 (October 1994), pp. 695–722, and its material is used here
with permission of Frank Cass Publishers.
Every effort has been made in good faith to seek and obtain permission to
quote from known copyright materials. If, through oversight or ignorance, any
permission is outstanding, every effort will be made to rectify the situation upon
notification by the appropriate copyright holder(s).
I am indebted to Professor Martin S.Alexander, Department of International
Politics, University of Wales, Aberystwyth, for his considerable advice and
ix
‘C’ Traditional appellation for the Chief of SIS; see also CSS
CALPO Moscow-controlled Comité de l’Allemagne Libre pour
l’Ouest; French Office of Free Germany Committee
Capt. Captain
CAS British Chief of the Air Staff
CBO Combined Bomber Offensive
CCS Combined Chiefs of Staff
‘CD’ Codename for the Head of SOE
CD OSS Censorship and Documents branch
Cdr Naval rank of Commander
CE Counter-espionage
CES SO Central European Section
CG Commanding General
CHARLES SO communications station at Hurley, England
CI Counter-intelligence
CIA US Central Intelligence Agency
CICIP British Combined Intelligence Centre Iraq and Persia
CIG US Central Intelligence Group, immediate precursor to the CIA
CIGS British Chief of the Imperial General Staff
C-in-C Commander-in-Chief
CO Commanding Officer
COI Office of the Coordinator of Information; predecessor of OSS
Col Military rank of Colonel
COS British Chiefs of Staff Committee
COSSAC Chief of Staff to the Supreme Allied Commander
CROSS SO’s 1945 proposed assassination project against Nazi/
Gestapo officials
CSS Chief of the Secret Service; see also ‘C’
CSTC Combined Strategic Targeting Committee; successor to JOTC
DCAS British Deputy Chief of the Air Staff
DCOS British Deputy Chiefs of Staff
DDI OSS Deputy-Director of Intelligence
DEG An item of CI interest derived from ULTRA
DGER Direction Generate des Etudes et Recherches, successor to
BCRA
DIP SI Division of Intelligence Procurement
DMI British Director of Military Intelligence
xii
HM His/Her Majesty
HMSO His/Her Majesty’s Stationary Office
Hut 3 The element of GC&CS/GCHQ responsible for processing
German Army and Air Force decrypts at Bletchley Park
IAB US Intelligence Advisory Board
ISK Designation for counter-intelligence SIGINT derived from
ULTRA; the designation ISOS also covered this material
ISLD Inter-Services Liaison Department; MI6’s overseas colonial
manifestation
ISOS Intelligence Service Oliver Strachey; see ISK
ISPB British Inter-Services Planning Board
ISTD British Admiralty Inter-Services Topographical Department
JCS US Joint Chiefs of Staff Committee
J/E JOAN ELEANOR; codename for OSS air-ground radio.
JEDBURGH Codename for SOE/SO sabotage project in support of
OVERLORD
JIB British Joint Intelligence Bureau
JIC US or British Joint Intelligence Committee
JIS US or British Joint Intelligence Staff
JOTC Allied Joint Oil Targeting Committee; predecessor of CSTC
JPS British Joint Planning Staff
KENT Unrealized 1944 joint SI/SIS espionage plan for penetrating
Germany
LAMDA SIS economic reports given to SSU
LPS British Lord Privy Seal
Lt Lieutenant; a navy Lt is equivalent to an army Captain; an
army Lieutenant is equivalent to a US Navy Ensign/ Royal
Navy Acting Sub-Lieutenant
Lt-Cdr Lieutenant-Commander
Lt-Col. Military rank of Lieutenant-Colonel
Lt(jg) US Navy rank of Lieutenant, junior grade; equivalent to a
Royal Navy Sub-Lieutenant
Maj. Military rank of Major
Maj.-Gen. Military rank of Major-General
MAN Military, Air, Naval series of SIS intelligence reports
Maquis French partisans, from the Corsican word for brushwood
MEDTO Mediterranean Theater of Operations
MEW British Ministry of Economic Warfare
xiv
PR Photo Reconnaissance
PRO Public Record Office, Kew
PROUST Independent SI espionage project in Normandy; follow-up to
SUSSEX
PW Psychological Warfare; Prisoner(s) of War
P/W, Ps/W Prisoner(s) of War
PWD SHAEF Psychological Warfare Division
PWE British Political Warfare Executive
R&A OSS Research and Analysis branch
R&D OSS Research and Development branch
RAF Royal Air Force
RE8 British Ministry of Home Security Research and Experiments
Department 8
RSHA Reichssicherheitshauptamt; SS Reich security office; see also
GIS
RSS Radio Security Service
S&T OSS Schools and Training branch
SA Sturmabteilung; Nazi paramilitary organization
(‘Brownshirts’); literally, ‘Assault Detachment’
SA/B OSS Special Activities/Bruce, predecessor of SI branch
SAFE HAVEN OSS/SSU intelligence on post-war Nazi capital
SA/G OSS Special Activities/Goodfellow, predecessor of SO branch
SA/H Redesignation of SA/G, predecessor of SO branch
SAS British Special Air Service
SASO (SB) RAF Senior Air Staff Officer (Strategic Bombing)
SCAEF Supreme Commander, Allied Expeditionary Force
SCI Detachment Special Counter-intelligence Detachment; X-2 teams attached
to the field armies
SCIU Special Counter-intelligence Units; alternative designation for
SCI Detachments
SD Sicherheitsdienst; Nazi Security Service
Section D SIS sabotage section, later merged with MIR to form SOE
Section V MI6 counter-intelligence section
Security Service British organization responsible for domestic counter
espionage; see MI5
Secret Service British organization responsible for foreign intelligence and
imperial counter-espionage; see Broadway, MI6, SIS
xvi
Donne’s fatalistic maxim succinctly defines the essential context that modern
intelligence services function within, and the variables determining their relative
fortunes. Their experiences suggest that they are very human institutions largely
shaped by the vagaries of circumstances beyond their control, not to mention
misfortune and luck. As refined information used by the state to further national
goals and policies, intelligence is directed, collected, analysed and disseminated
(the ‘intelligence cycle’) within the milieu of international politics. Intelligence
work must therefore function within the ‘anarchical society’ of Great Powers.1
Equally significant is the extent to which intelligence functionaries serve at the
mercy of their policy masters. The intelligence officers themselves, in their
various professional incarnations, are the ‘desperate men’ in this formulation,
striving as they do to carry out their risky and/or problematic duties in the face of
inertia and outright opposition on the part of rivals, enemies, and occasionally
their own countrymen. It is unlikely that any intelligence service in history has
ever completely escaped sub-jugation to such restrictive bondage.
These facts hold particularly true for the Office of Strategic Services mission in
London, America’s critical liaison and operational intelligence outpost during the
Second World War. Expanding to a peak of 2,800 personnel in 1944, OSS/
London was originally established in October 1941 with the arrival of a single
representative, followed by a staff nucleus the day after America’s entry into the
war. Eventually consisting of contingents from the four major OSS branches—
Research and Analysis, Secret Intelligence, Special Operations, and X-2
(counter-intelligence)—the mission served as a focal point for Anglo-American
intelligence relations in the decisive theatre in the war against Germany. The
London mission was at the heart of OSS relations with British intelligence, and
as such it personified the essence of that connection in the Allied war effort. The
Allied invasion of Europe ensured that OSS/London, more than any other OSS
outpost, would have the greatest opportunity to perform a decisive role in the
intelligence war. Other OSS missions would also make important contributions,
2 AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON
notably in Cairo, Algiers and Italy; but these were ultimately secondary theatres,
while in the Pacific and Asia, OSS never acquired the sound relationship with the
military necessary for intelligence operations. London was at the heart of the
Allied war effort, and at the heart of the Anglo-American alliance itself. While
intelligence exchanges with the Soviet Union have been documented by Bradley
F.Smith, London was the ‘big league’ in Allied intelligence during the war.2
Many significant matters were accordingly played-out there, offering detailed
examples of intelligence services in action. The experiences of OSS in London
therefore illuminate the process by which America was introduced to the various
components of intelligence and clandestine work, and how well American
intelligence performed in its own right. As the presumed precursor to the post-
war US Central Intelligence Agency, OSS further invites study in order to
understand the antecedents of America’s Cold War intelligence service. The
significant Anglo-American context of the evolution of modern American
intelligence moreover suggests that the Anglo-American ‘Special Relationship’
had an intelligence component that was manifested most strongly and clearly in
OSS/London.
The mission thus provides a case study of how US intelligence matured and
became institutionalized within the context of the larger Anglo-American
political-military alliance. This analysis accordingly examines an aspect of that
alliance, and of intelligence history in particular, that has not yet been explored
in any comprehensive detail. It is part of a current historiographical review of the
significance of intelligence services in military and international affairs. It
specifically examines OSS/London within the context of Anglo-American
relations, as well as the evolution of both modern American, and Allied,
intelligence during the Second World War.3
The general research approach blends what has been termed the American and
British ‘schools’ of intelligence scholarship. The more historical nature of British
intelligence studies has been noted by Kenneth G.Robertson, while Roy
Godson’s ‘Intelligence: an American View’, in Robertson’s British and
American Approaches to Intelligence, distinguishes between this historical
methodology and the more conceptual or theoretical nature of American studies
(for example, Sherman Kent’s Strategic Intelligence for American World
Policy). British diplomatic historian D.C. Watt has therefore identified these
approaches as two distinct schools of intelligence study, though a recent
noteworthy British contribution to the theoretical school is Michael Herman’s
Intelligence Power in Peace and War, which surveys the interrelationship
between post-war structures, tasks, and effectiveness.4 This study for its part
demonstrates the influences of both schools by linking theoretical concepts to the
role of intelligence ties within the larger wartime Anglo-American alliance.
The purposes of this study are threefold. The first and most general purpose is
to examine more closely the trend in western intelligence communities toward
slow and uneven professionalization noted by Christopher Andrew and David
Dilks in The Missing Dimension. In addition to underscoring the gradual and
INTRODUCTION 3
mature? Was OSS/London persistently amateur, or did it make the most of its
opportunities and flourish as well as could be expected? Did OSS/London reflect
the popular portrait of Anglo-American intelligence relations (i.e., American
dependence), or of Anglo-American relations in general (i.e., British
dependence)? In other words, the popular portrait of Anglo-American relations
has as its theme Britain’s gradually increasing dependence on American power in
the first half of this century, especially from 1940 onwards. Conversely, the
popular portrait of Anglo-American intelligence relations during the war, with
the establishment of OSS, stresses the dependence of American intelligence
neophytes on the worldly-wise, yet perfidious, British. The issue at hand is thus
whether OSS/London’s evolution conformed to either, or both, of these
characterizations at various points in time. For example, did the evolution of
OSS/London change as US power made itself felt in the European Theatre from
1943 onwards? Did Britain’s growing subordination to US power develop in the
intelligence sphere as it did in diplomatic and military matters? Finally, how far
did mutual hidden agendas and priorities figure in the western intelligence
alliance during the Second World War? To what extent was OSS/London
trying to exploit its ties with British services for their own long-term bureaucratic
needs, and how extensively were the British intent on using organizational links,
including intelligence cooperation, to influence the application of American
power for British ends? These latter questions focus on the motivations and
agendas of the intelligence agencies themselves. As will be detailed in the
chapters that follow, the evidence indicates that OSS/London was not necessarily
slavishly subordinate or dependent on British intelligence. It in fact walked a fine
line between absorbing intelligence skills from the more experienced British
while trying to prove the organization’s worth and independence in order to
secure its post-war status. The British, moreover, certainly extended their
tutelage in order to win the war efficiently, but with the transition to cold war,
Anglo-American intelligence ties were in turn exploited to mobilize American
power to suit British purposes, in part by influencing the character of American
intelligence so as to shape how America perceived evolving Great Power
issues.12
Answering these questions involves a unique application of intelligence theory
to a particular intelligence organization with a manageable historical lifespan.
Blending the British and American ‘schools’ will also permit testing some
theoretical concepts, and provide for a better understanding of the intelligence
dimension—what Andrew and Dilks have called ‘the missing dimension’—of
Anglo-American political and strategic relations during the Second World War.
An essential preliminary step involves identifying the historiographic themes
of Anglo-American relations.13 Broadly speaking, they bring out the consistency
of competitive cooperation and manoeuvring for advantage. While Warren F.
Kimball refers to the ‘most productive and cooperative coalition in modern
times’, there remains the reality of increasing political, economic and strategic
rivalry, culminating with Britain’s sub-ordination to America.14 Robert
INTRODUCTION 5
pains during the war.23 A more critical view is expressed in Bradley F.Smith’s
The Shadow Warriors: OSS and the Origins of the CIA. Bradley Smith stresses
Donovan’s susceptibility to Britain’s experimentation with ‘shadow warfare’
(i.e., with the expedient of organized resistance and espionage as a centrepiece of
the Allied war effort) since this reduced OSS to being a handmaiden of tactical
military operations rather than a strategic intelligence arm. Donovan’s role in
establishing centralized intelligence is also overrated in Bradley Smith’s view.
Bradley Smith instead stresses the concrete influence of the large body of OSS
veterans who provided the real nucleus of CIA. His work, based on examining
mostly Joint Chiefs of Staff and State Department records, thus finds the
presumed achievements of OSS wanting, although his analysis predated the
release of the full OSS archive. Irregular warfare, espionage, the parentage of
post-war US civilian intelligence, and the relevance of OSS strategic intelligence
are nevertheless all cast into doubt.24 More recent works have challenged these
conclusions. William Casey’s memoir, The Secret War Against Hitler,
emphatically argues that the penetration of Germany in 1944–45 by OSS
espionage contributed to the service’s stature by war’s end; Robin Winks’s
Cloak and Gown defends the importance and relevance of OSS strategic
assessments produced by the Research and Analysis branch, although Winks
makes no definitive claims as to their true significance. Barry Katz’s study of
R&A, Foreign Intelligence, also stresses the talent within the branch, but
concedes that it was overshadowed by OSS’s clandestine activities.25
Concerning the question of Anglo-American intelligence relations, there is a
fairly superficial consensus. American inexperience and/or gullibility are the
major themes of the British Official Histories (Hinsley; Foot), and of the main
studies of OSS. Smoother relations over time are generally described as a
function of increased American experience in the official British view, while
British motives for helping OSS are suspect by OSS historians.26 This portrait
was presaged by events from the First World War, where the judicious use of
discretion and personal diplomacy enabled the British Secret Service
representative in Washington, William Wiseman, to solidify an Anglo-American
alliance of necessity.27 By smoothing ruffled feathers and allowing American
leaders to deal with one of their own kind, this covert diplomacy helped Britain
influence American government policy. Rhodri Jeffreys-Jones further suggests in
American Espionage that Wiseman was so adept at his role, he allowed Britain to
manipulate America’s own intelligence resources for British ends.28 Whether or
not this was the case before America entered the war, it certainly describes
Anglo-American cryptographic cooperation after 1917, where Britain preserved
its pre-eminence, and used its product to influence American policy-makers.29
America’s isolationism and demobilization of a cryptographic capability together
distanced it from Britain between the wars, and broke the existing Anglo-
American intelligence linkage.30
Alex Danchev’s Establishing the Anglo-American Alliance: The Second World
War Diaries of Brigadier Vivian Dykes demonstrates how this all began to
INTRODUCTION 7
change after the fall of France in 1940, when Britain sought to impress American
representatives (including William Donovan), and to establish the basis for more
concrete ties upon America’s entry into the conflict in 1941.31 Anglo-American
ties in the realm of signals intelligence (SIGINT) were particularly strong with
the BRUSA (British/USA) agreement of 1943, which codified intelligence
pooling and the division of resources, and which possibly set the stage for post-
war American dominance in SIGINT with the alleged 1947 UK-USA pact.32
This all presumes a pre-ordained American intelligence ascendancy that smacks
of being wise after the fact, however, and contrasts with the widely conceded
portrait of American inexperience, and the assumption of allegedly perfidious
British intelligence dominance over OSS. For example, Kermit Roosevelt’s War
Report of the OSS, and Carlton S.Coon’s A North Africa Story, both accuse
British intelligence of obstructing and holding back independent long-range OSS
espionage.33 Nathan Miller’s Spying for America confirms the view of poor field
cooperation, while Harris Smith and Bradley Smith suggest that OSS gullibility
and Anglophilia allowed British intelligence to co-opt OSS to British methods,
and therefore establish de facto dependence on their British tutors.34
A more nuanced insight into the Anglo-OSS intelligence relationship is
provided by a British sabotage officer. Douglas Dodds-Parker notes in his
memoir how in Algiers, Donovan pressed for independent US projects that
would demonstrate the worth of an independent American intelligence service.
Donovan suggested to Dodds-Parker that if Franklin Roosevelt thought that OSS
only supported or reinforced British initiatives and projects, he would not be
likely to give full support to such an imperially-tainted organization after the war.
This created a conflict between Donovan’s long-term needs and plans (requiring
independent US operations), and the short-term aims of the Allied high
command (requiring the coordination of Allied intelligence, and so US
subordination).35 Dodds-Parker thus introduces a critical, if underrated, theme in
the history of Anglo-American intelligence relations during the Second World
War, and in the heritage of modern American intelligence: the agenda and
priorities of William Donovan relative to military imperatives, and to the
competitive cooperation between OSS and British intelligence. The need to
secure bureaucratic standing (as underscored by Rhodri Jeffreys-Jones’s The CIA
and American Democracy) is clearly identifiable in the experience of OSS/
London. It demonstrated throughout the war the necessity for an untried
intelligence organization to receive tutelage while trying to achieve
independence and long-term security, all within the context of a larger alliance
relationship.36
Intelligence theory suggests some concepts relevant to interpreting these
elements of OSS/London’s activities. Regarding the relationship between
intelligence ‘producers’ and intelligence ‘consumers’, should intelligence be
expected to help guide policy directly?37 Alternatively, should intelligence
instead be detached from policy-making to avoid compromising the integrity of
its work?38 These questions relate to how well OSS/London served its military
8 AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON
and political masters, hence providing a framework for judging its relevance to
America’s war effort and post-war statecraft.39 More specifically, a persistent
theoretical issue involves the tension between supplying short-range current
estimates (or ‘spot reports’), and providing long-range estimates. This is directly
relevant to judging the significance of OSS/London’s revered R&A branch in
comparison with OSS/London’s operational intelligence work.40 Perhaps even
more significant to OSS/London’s history is the practicality of cooperation
between an intelligence service’s component branches, and the efficacy of
centralized organization.41 These points are relevant to the level of
organizational efficiency within OSS/London as compared to, and influenced by,
the structure of British intelligence. They moreover speak to the presumed OSS
legacy of centralization. Finally, is the vital essence of intelligence the
centralized production of analytical estimates, or is it intelligence as responsive
servant of immediate consumer needs?42 This relates to the question of whether
OSS/London’s intelligence operations were of greater significance than the work
of R&A, and to the relevance of OSS/London as a whole.
These themes of inquiry suggest the potential pitfalls and obstacles which
threaten to complicate, and even nullify, any intelligence organization’s efforts,
much less those of a novice service. Ambiguity concerning function;
ambivalence from, and misuse by, superiors; and the simple circumstances
confronting a given organization are all the stock in trade of modern intelligence.
The manner in which OSS/London functioned internally, with the British, and
within the context of Anglo-American relations can thus be interpreted in light of
these theoretical questions. It is in this sense that OSS/London can serve as a
case study which tests theories about the ideal practice of the ‘craft of
intelligence’ in relation to the realities of historical experience and power
politics.43
Undertaking such a case study is facilitated by the extensive availability of
OSS records, unprecedented for an intelligence agency. Held at the US National
Archives and Records Administration in Washington, DC, the 6,000-cubic-foot
OSS archive is deposited in Record Group 226, 3,000 cubic feet of which were
accessible when research was conducted between June 1992 and March 1993.
RG 226 is divided into over 110 Entries, the most significant of which regarding
OSS/London include: Entry 91 (OSS/London War Diary); Entry 92 (Central
Files); Entry 99 (records gathered by the OSS History Office); Entry 180
(Director OSS files); and Entries 115, 148, and 190 (Field Files). The superiority
of contemporaneous documentation over self-serving memoirs and decades-old
recollections is obvious. Extensive correspondence, memoranda, reports,
directives, and cables allow a detailed reconstruction of the key developments
within this crucial OSS outpost, and equally significant, an understanding of
developments and information relating to British intelligence. OSS/London’s
‘War Diary’, while blatantly geared toward proselytizing for a post-war
intelligence agency, is nevertheless useful for contemporary analyses and
chronologies of events. RG 226 is also supplemented by Record Group 263,
INTRODUCTION 9
Records of the Central Intelligence Agency. This material includes the Thomas
Troy Papers, containing many records used in preparation of his in-house CIA
history Donovan and the CIA, and two other rival CIA histories by Arthur B.
Darling and Ludwell Montague. Also of some use were the William J. Donovan
Papers at the US Army Military History Institute in Carlisle, Pennsylvania.
Although this collection is badly organized and difficult to use, it offers some
important individual documents, especially concerning British intelligence.
Uncovering intelligence documents from British records at the Public Record
Office, Kew is a more problematic exercise in light of traditional British reluctance
to acknowledge, let alone document, the work of its secret services. Luck and
thoroughness are necessary to collect relevant records buried in the various
Cabinet, War Office, Air Ministry, and Foreign Office record classes.
Nevertheless, a considerable amount of material can still be discovered that
illustrates key aspects of the British intelligence community, and its relationship
with American intelligence. Despite the best efforts of departmental record
‘weeders’, important facts can slip through. As one British officer attached to the
War Office Historical Section noted about some military records in 1959,
[t]he trouble is that they were never properly screened and one often finds
really ‘hot’ documents tucked away in what would appear to be a completely
innocuous file. The best example of this was the finding of Sir Winston
Churchill’s personal opinion of the American Admiral [Ernest J.] King in a
very ‘dull’ Q[uartermaster] file.44
Churchill was himself keen to ensure that British Secret Service records were
kept from premature release. After learning that a bomb hit on the Ministry of
Transport’s archives had scattered ‘a vast mass’ of driving licences, he wrote the
Chief of the Secret Service to say that he had ‘no doubt that all your papers are in
absolute bombproof security, but if not, they should be put there as soon as
possible’.45 Finding intelligence documents in British archives is thus the
historical profession’s own version of the ‘Great Game’, but not one without its
rewards.
The fruits of this paperchase are organized as follows: Chapter 1 surveys the
British intelligence community with particular reference to how its fragmentation
and method of direction set the context for OSS/London’s own evolution, and
thereby shaped that portion of the Anglo-American intelligence relationship.
Chapter 2 illustrates how significant this phenomenon proved to be for the
London mission’s establishment under the aegis of the Coordinator of
Information before it gave way to OSS. This chapter also underscores the
mission’s bureaucratic insecurity, the power wielded by the American military
over its prospects, and the primacy of fragmentation over theoretical
centralization.
The remaining chapters survey the mission’s component branches and the
work done in connection with British services. Chapter 3 covers how OSS/
10 AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON
These chapters together show the stresses and strains of fate and chance on
OSS/London; the defining role of modern-day sovereigns on modern intelligence
bureaucracies; and the efforts of many British and American desperate men in a
necessary relationship. OSS/London’s experiences thus provide a foundation for
drawing lessons about intelligence work in general. They also contribute to the
scholarly understanding of a unique element within American statecraft, and its
role in one of the more critical alliances formed in modern international history.
NOTES
Maochun Yu, OSS in China: Prelude to Cold War (New Haven: Yale University
Press, 1996).
8. Richard J.Aldrich, Intelligence and the War Against Japan: Britain, America and
the Politics of Secret Service (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000); see
also Richard J. Aldrich, ‘American Intelligence and the British Raj: The OSS, the
SSU and India, 1942–1947’, in Martin S.Alexander (ed.), Knowing Your Friends:
Intelligence Inside Alliances and Coalitions from 1914 to the Cold War (London:
Frank Cass, 1998), pp. 132–64.
9. Jay Jakub, Spies and Saboteurs: Anglo-American Collaboration and Rivalry in
Human Intelligence Collection and Special Operations, 1940–45 (London:
Macmillan, 1999).
10. David Reynolds, The Creation of the Anglo-American Alliance, 1937–41: A Study
in Competitive Co-operation (London: Europa, 1981); see also William Roger
Louis, Imperialism at Bay, 1941–1945: The United States and the Decolonization
of the British Empire (Oxford: Clarendon, 1977).
11. Shulsky, Silent, pp. 177–9; see Bull, Anarchical, pp. 185–6, 208, 219; see also
Michael I.Handel, ‘The Politics of Intelligence’, Intelligence and National Security
2, 4 (October 1987), p. 38.
12. See Jakub, Spies, pp. 185–97, for his analysis of independence/dependence at the
level of OSS-British intelligence in various theatres.
13. Representative works on the subject include Reynolds, Creation; James R.Leutze,
Bargaining for Supremacy: Anglo-American Naval Collaboration, 1937–1941
(Chapel Hill: The University of North Carolina Press, 1977); Robert M.Hathaway,
Ambiguous Partnership: Britain and America, 1944–1947 (New York: Columbia
University Press, 1981); Christopher Thorne, Allies of a Kind: The United States,
Britain, and the War against Japan, 1941–1945 (London: Hamish Hamilton, 1978);
Keith Sainsbury, Turning Point: Roosevelt, Stalin, Churchill, and Chiang-Kai-
Shek, 1943: The Moscow, Cairo, and Teheran Conferences (Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 1985); more superficial treatments are John S.D.Eisenhower,
Allies: Pearl Harbor to D-Day (Garden City: Doubleday, 1982); Joseph P.Lash,
Roosevelt and Churchill, 1939–1941: The Partnership That Saved the West (New
York: W.W. Norton, 1976).
14. Warren F.Kimball, The Most Unsordid Act: Lend-lease, 1939–1941 (Baltimore:
The Johns Hopkins Press, 1977), p. 241.
15. Hathaway, Ambiguous, pp. 5–6, 16–53, 308, 316–17.
16. See C.A.MacDonald, The United States, Britain and Appeasement, 1936–1939
(London: Macmillan, 1980), pp. 180–1; Alex Danchev, Very Special Relationship:
Field-Marshal Sir John Dill and the Anglo-American Alliance, 1941–44 (London:
Brassey’s, 1986), pp. 14, 33, 41–2, 79.
17. A.C.Turner, The Unique Partnership: Britain and the United States (New York:
Pegasus, 1971), pp. 67, 86–9, 96–7; see also Robert Dallek, Franklin D.Roosevelt
and American Foreign Policy, 1932–1945 (New York: Oxford University Press,
1979); Herbert Feis, Churchill, Roosevelt, Stalin: The War They Waged and the
Peace They Sought (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1957); Charles L.Mee,
Meeting at Potsdam (New York: M.Evans, 1975).
18. See Max Beloff, The Special Relationship: an Anglo-American Myth’, in Martin
Gilbert (ed.), A Century of Conflict, 1850–1950: Essays for A.J.P.Taylor (New
York: Atheneum, 1967), pp. 148–71; D.Cameron Watt, Succeeding John Bull:
INTRODUCTION 13
34. Nathan Miller, Spying for America: The Hidden History of US Intelligence (New
York: Paragon House, 1989); R.H.Smith, OSS, pp. 33–4; B.F.Smith, Shadow, pp.
168–76, 184–7.
35. Douglas Dodds-Parker, Setting Europe Ablaze: Some Account of Ungentlemanly
Warfare (Windlesham: Springwood Books, 1983), pp. 124–5, 179–80; see the
discussion of this point in the review by Nelson MacPherson of Max Corvo, The
OSS in Italy, 1942–1945: A Personal Memoir, in Intelligence and National
Security 6, 3 (July 1991), p. 646; a recent survey of presidential use of American
intelligence is Christopher Andrew’s For the President’s Eyes Only: Secret
Intelligence and the American Presidency from Washington to Bush (New York:
Harper Collins, 1995), with pp. 123–48 detailing Roosevelt’s relationship with
intelligence.
36. Rhodri Jeffreys-Jones, The CIA and American Democracy (New Haven: Yale
University Press, 1989), pp. 248, 250; see Jakub, Spies, pp. 196–7.
37. As suggested by H.H.Ransom, The Intelligence Establishment (Cambridge, MA:
Harvard University Press, 1970), pp. 5–7; Kenneth Strong, Men of Intelligence:
A Study of the Roles and Decisions of Chiefs of Intelligence from World War II to
the Present Day (London: Cassell, 1970), p. 131; Walter Laqueur, A World of
Secrets: The Uses and Limits of Intelligence (New York: Basic Books, 1985), pp.
11–12, 232, 340–6.
38. As suggested by Kent, Strategic, pp. 78–103, 115, 133–6, 180–3, 195–201; see also
Arthur S.Hulnick, ‘The Intelligence Produce-Policy Consumer Linkage: A
Theoretical Approach’, Intelligence and National Security 1, 2 (May 1986), pp.
212–33, and Herman, Intelligence, pp. 106–7, 128–9, 140–3, 257–9.
39. Cf. Roger Hilsman, Strategic Intelligence and National Decisions (Glencoe: The
Free Press, 1956), pp. 37, 43, 84, 118, 182; and Bruce D.Berkowitz and Allan E.
Goodman, Strategic Intelligence for American National Security (Princeton:
Princeton University Press, 1989), pp. ix–x, 22–7, 37, 109, 136, 173–5, 180–1,
183; these sources argue that intelligence cannot function properly if isolated from
policy-making, and must avoid being ignored as much as being intellectually
compromised; the relevance of intelligence thus stems from how effectively this
balance is struck.
40. See T.L.Hughes, The Fate of Facts in a World of Men: Foreign Policy and
Intelligence Making (New York: Foreign Policy Association, 1976); Ralph
Bennett, ‘Intelligence and Strategy in World War II’, in Robertson (ed.), British,
pp. 130–3; Herman, Intelligence, pp. 100–12, 257–79.
41. See Strong, Men, pp. 95, 168; Herman, Intelligence, pp. 16–35.
42. See Strong, Men, p. 151; Shulsky, Silent, chs 3, 6–7; Andrew and Dilks, Missing,
p. 13.
43. See Allen Dulles, The Craft of Intelligence (New York: Harper and Row, 1963), pp.
4, 55–64, 170.
44. Brigadier H.B.Latham, Historical Section, War Office to Sir Edward Hale,
Historical Branch, Cabinet Office, 19 August 1959, CAB 103/319, Public Record
Office, Kew [hereafter PRO].
45. Churchill to ‘C’, PM’s Personal Minute, 10 July 1944, PREM 4/68/6A, PRO; pre-
war Secret Service records had at least been moved out of London to the British
cipher-breaking station at Bletchley Park, Buckinghamshire in 1939; see R.VJones,
INTRODUCTION 15
villains were stymied in the books by a fictional British Secret Service wholly of
their authors’ imaginations.4 Harmless in themselves, these yarns began to take
hold in the minds of the public and establishment alike, and fanned by the press,
escalated into a wholesale spy mania. Where there are suspected spies, there is a
cry for counter-measures. Since the organs of the War Office and the Admiralty
were not up to the task, there was strong lobbying from within these departments
to create the means to verify and confound the knavish tricks of the continental
secret services. A sub-committee on foreign espionage of the Committee of
Imperial Defence, swayed as much by the fictional spy scenarios as anything
else, eventually concurred with that view in 1909. Their report led directly to the
establishment of Britain’s first Secret Service Bureau in that same year, modified
in 1910 to consist of a War Office home counter-espionage department, and a
foreign espionage department under control of the Admiralty.5 Upon the
outbreak of the First World War, the Home Section became an element of the
newly formed Directorate of Military Intelligence within the War Office in 1916,
and was styled as MI5. The Foreign Section also joined the War Office at that
time as MI1(c), but control and funding of the department passed to the Foreign
Office by the end of the conflict. The exclusive inter-service responsibility of the
Foreign Section for espionage, known by then as either the Secret Service, the
Special (or Secret) Intelligence Service (SIS), or by its nominal War Office
military intelligence cover title of MI6, was only formalized in 1921. The service
accordingly reported its information without interpretation to the Foreign Office,
was supervised by the Foreign Office, and its espionage system was not to
prejudice by association, or supplant, the FO’s political reporting.6
The emphasis with the return to peace was obviously on bureaucratic control.
Less attention was paid to the actual execution of such control in terms of
establishing operational priorities, and in deploying the limited resources of SIS,
especially regarding direction from the armed services. This shortcoming would
only be exacerbated throughout the period preceding the Second World War. The
lack of funding was a prime reason for this, a problem shared with the defence
establishment in general. The SIS budget was reduced from £240,000 in 1919 to
£90,000 in 1922, and SIS stressed in 1935 that the lack of finances had, for
example, forced the complete abandonment of operations ‘in several countries’
from which information could have been gathered on Italy relevant to the
Abyssinian crisis. This state of affairs persisted, with only a small temporary
budget increase in the spring of 1938, and led to the armed services complaining
about the poor, often non-existent, state of SIS information on German intentions
and rearmament.7 It is thus easy to understand why the Official Historians of
British intelligence entitled the section of their work dealing with the wartime
period from its out-break in September 1939 to the winter of 1941 ‘In the Dark’.
The British Secret Service was no all-seeing eye, no invincible collection of
cunning experts practicing their craft in the ruthless spirit of raison d’état. Two
decades of relative neglect and lack of direction were offset only by a late
realization of the need to mobilize intelligence for potential war in the manner of
18 AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON
the armed services. The same process of personnel expansion and enhanced
operational control in a transition from peacetime structures to those of war had
to be made by the SIS.8
One of the most pressing requirements with the onset of war was to develop an
effective means of executive control and direction over intelligence. Some
progress had been made on this front through the establishment within the Chiefs
of Staff organization of a Joint Intelligence Sub-Committee in 1936. It was
intended that the JIC would aid the service heads and assist the Joint (i.e., tri-
service) Planning Staff by acting as a channel for the dissemination of relevant
intelligence in support of higher planning. Actual practice was another matter
because the JIC consisted merely of service intelligence deputies who showed
little initiative in providing appreciations, and who were seldom consulted by the
JPS. There was, curiously, no SIS representation. It became clear by June 1939
that closer integration was required of the service intelligence departments, and
that Foreign Office political input would have to be incorporated into the JIC as
well. The Sub-Committee from then onwards consisted of the service
intelligence chiefs or their deputies, and a Counsellor from the FO who also
served in the capacity of unofficial chairman. Still without SIS participation, the
JIC was now formally expected to assess and co-ordinate intelligence for the
Chiefs of Staff in order to effect the most sound basis for Government policy,
and to contribute toward improving the ‘efficient working of the intelligence
organization of the country as a whole’.9 This essentially amounted to a mandate
to produce operational intelligence appreciations for the War Cabinet and COS,
and it was a nominal first for British intelligence. While the JIC was best suited
to compare and assess the widest range of information, it still must be noted that
the JIC only centralized strategic assessments, not the management of the
intelligence system as a whole. Even this innovation was problematic until the
creation of a Joint Intelligence Staff in May 1941 to ease the committee’s
debilitating workload by drafting basic appreciations for JIC consideration and
approval. By also serving as a ‘corporate memory’ for the British intelligence
system, the JIS established a firm foundation for the systematic influence of
intelligence on British strategy. This in itself was a laudable accomplishment,
but it nevertheless failed to resolve the thorny issue of how best to coordinate the
component clandestine services within the intelligence system. It was as yet
unclear how the competing interests of the various departments—Foreign Office,
War Office, Admiralty—could be equably balanced, and it was assumed that
intelligence was best left in the hands of the various departmental masters.10
One consequence of the ongoing fractured direction of intelligence operations
was revealed through the convoluted, nearly arthritic, attempt to organize
clandestine sabotage before the German onslaught of May 1940. A French
General of the Secretariat General de la Défense Nationale contacted the British
Military Secretary to the War Cabinet, Major-General Hastings Ismay, on 26
January 1940 with a proposal for a combined sabotage programme against
German railways and other lines of communication. Ismay in turn forwarded the
THE BRITISH INTELLIGENCE COMMUNITY 19
although he was inclined to feel ‘that the proposed board was on much too low a
level and that coordination in these matters ought to be carried out on a very high
level so that approval for projects could be given without the full War Cabinet
being consulted’. He was nevertheless prepared to concur with Churchill.18
The JIC set out their formal proposition on the subject to the War Cabinet on
26 April. It emphasized the increasingly inter-departmental nature of sub rosa
operations, particularly of those ‘irregular’ actions in support of the
Government’s economic warfare strategy designed to blockade Germany into
capitulation. The ISPB was therefore intended as ‘an advisory and consultative
body’ made up of ‘comparatively junior officers’ (Lieutenant-Colonel grade)
from SIS and the service departments, and to be distinct from the JIC in order to
avoid the apparently disquieting spectre of ‘unnecessary formalities’.19 This
document was considered and accepted by the Deputy Chiefs of Staff on 29
April 1940, just in time to be rendered largely irrelevant by the decisive German
offensive that began on 10 May.20 The dispersion of intelligence functions and
bodies, the limitations of the JIC, and the Secret Service’s detachment therefrom
had obviously served as considerable stumbling blocks in the attempt to fashion
a timely and effective means of directing sabotage activities. British intelligence
direction on the eve of disaster was undeniably diffuse and impracticable.21
With a Shakespearean sense of timing, Churchill succeeded to the premiership
on the day of the German assault as a result of the fall of Neville Chamberlain
after the April debacle in Norway. Churchill came to the premiership with a long
history of dealings with intelligence throughout his Cabinet service. As Secretary
of War in 1920, he had even recommended that MI5 and SIS be combined as an
economy measure. This proposal was not accepted, and Churchill himself
reflected that the marriage of ‘distinct and very secretive organizations…cannot
be brought about in a hurry having regard to the peculiar nature of the matters
dealt with and the importance of not disturbing the relationships which exist’.22
The Prime Minister did back a Chiefs of Staff review of the intelligence system
soon after taking power, and he pushed for the elementary measure of placing
SIS, MI5, and the Ministry of Economic Warfare in the JIC at the latter’s
arrangement on 24 May. (During a review of the secret services by Lord Hankey
the preceding March SIS had actually resisted joining the JIC in order to
‘preserve the “historic” aloofness of the SIS from the Whitehall committee
system’, but Churchill’s decision now overrode such considerations.) Despite all
of this, he was nevertheless disinclined to pursue more radical measures.23
Churchill’s reticence was evidently married to an impatience with the Secret
Service’s performance to date. He minuted his obvious discontent to Ismay, for
Menzies, on 5 August as well:
authorities. For the present Major Morton will inspect them for me and
submit what he considers of major interest. He is to see everything and
submit authentic documents for me in their original form. Further I await
proposals from Colonel Menzies for improving and extending our
information about France and for keeping a continued flow of agents
moving to and fro. For this purpose Naval facilities can if necessary be
invoked. So far as the Vichy Government is concerned it is not creditable
that we have so little information. To what extent are Americans, Swiss
and Spanish agents being used [sic]. Colonel Menzies should submit a
report on what he has done and is proposing to do.24
That report must have made grim reading, as much for Churchill as for Menzies.
Since Churchill would make his famous tribute to the ‘few’ of the Battle of
Britain on 20 August, it had to be just after that speech that ‘a somewhat cruel
jest was made at the expense of [the] Intelligence Service’. Paraphrasing
Churchill’s oratory, ‘it was said of the Secret Intelligence Service that never in
the whole sum of human experience had so little been known by so many about
so much’. This portrait, however,
was a half truth. The demand for intelligence was greater and covered a
wider field than ever in 1914/18. And the possibility of obtaining it was
much less. The occupation of so much of Europe by the Nazis and their
ruthless and terrorizing control had made the normal methods of obtaining
intelligence almost impractical. Agent after agent was ‘liquidated’ or gave
up an impossibly difficult and dangerous task, and that great source of
information—the neutral press—had almost disappeared. Restricted in
their usual sources of supply the Intelligence Branches of all three services
and other departments directly concerned with the war turned to long
distance high altitude photography as a ready solution to their troubles.25
Save for the joke, this assessment of SIS fortunes could have been that written by
Menzies for Churchill. It was certainly true that MI6 networks had been
completely destroyed in the wake of the German triumph in France and the Low
Countries, and that aerial photographic reconnaissance (PR) was of critical
importance in filling some of the intelligence void after Dunkirk. Photo
reconnaissance was, however, only part of the repertoire still available to ‘C’.
Another vital source controlled by SIS was understandably omitted from the
RAF narrative—that being signals intelligence.26
Britain achieved great success in the sphere of code- and cipherbreaking
during the First World War through the Royal Navy’s cryptanalysis unit, known
after its location within the Admiralty Building as Room 40. The War Office
equivalent was MI1(b), and both groups were amalgamated under Admiralty
authority in 1919 as the Government Code and Cipher School (GC&CS). Placed
under Foreign Office administration alongside SIS in 1922, it was subsequently
22 AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON
incorporated under ‘C’s’ control (although separate from SIS) in 1923. The SIS
head from then onwards bore the official title of ‘Chief of the Secret Service and
Director of GC&CS’, and after 1925 both services were headquartered in
neighbouring offices within the building at 55 Broadway, London. The code and
cipher establishment’s specific operations were executed by its own
administrative Head while subordinated bureaucratically to ‘C’. SIS therefore
enjoyed effective responsibility for the material produced from such activities,
generically known as signals intelligence (SIGINT).27
This was of paramount importance by the time of Churchill’s accession. The
GC&CS experts at Bletchley Park, Buckinghamshire, were fortuitously able to
penetrate the various keys of Germany’s main cipher system, which utilized the
‘Enigma’ machine. Enigma was first broken regularly by Polish cryptographers
in the years 1934–38 by means of a reconstructed device, and by an electro-
mechanical instrument designed to scan the multitudes of letter combinations
known as a ‘cryptographic bombe’. The Poles subsequently informed the French
and British cipher departments about the secret in July 1939 since they needed
help penetrating the more complex Enigma system adopted by the Germans at
the end of 1938. When the Poles fled to France after their country’s defeat, the
French took up the mantle. Upon the French defeat in 1940, GC&CS resources
and manpower came to the fore, and by 22 May of that year, one major German
Air Force key began to be read regularly with the British version of the bombe
technology. The German Naval key would follow in 1941, and the Army’s in
1942.28
Known to a strictly controlled minority within Whitehall and the services, the
contents of these decrypted signals became the backbone of British intelligence
survival. After being unscrambled and translated by GC&CS (renamed by 1942
as the Government Communications Headquarters, or GCHQ), the resultant
verbatim data were fashioned into signals that accurately summarized the
information for use by British commanders. These signals were accorded the
highest degree of security, and thus eventually described as TOP SECRET—
ULTRA, or often more succinctly as ULTRA material. Coming straight from the
proverbial horse’s mouth, these signals gave the British an unprecedented ability
to examine and use the most reliable (although not flawless) single source of
intelligence available on the enemy.29 Menzies’s August report to Churchill
could not bask in that success, however. It could not rely upon ULTRA to
obscure the lack of agents on the continent, nor the undeniable want of effective,
realistic operational plans ready for execution any time in the near future. About
all ‘C’ could do at the Prime Minister’s behest was offer up ULTRA signals,
often personally, for Churchill’s attention from at least September 1940
onwards. It is suggested in the Official History that this state of affairs ‘was to
have one beneficial result. It produced a close relationship between “C” and the
Prime Minister, whose knowledge of the products of “C’s” organization,
particularly of GC and CS, proved valuable when strategic decisions and
intelligence priorities were being debated’.30 A less contented conclusion can
THE BRITISH INTELLIGENCE COMMUNITY 23
establishment was not actually under a single fixed authority. The COS
concluded by saying that no one individual was at fault for the poor showing in
intelligence, and that so
far as the future is concerned, it may be urged that our whole intelligence
system should be reorganised… Nevertheless, there are clearly many grave
disadvantages, not only in the proposition itself but also—more particularly
—in the idea of carrying it out at the present time…it seems to us very
undesirable that a drastic reorganisation of this magnitude should be
attempted at the moment when we are fighting for our lives.38
Attlee received his copy of the report on 24 November, and he found the logic of
the COS unconvincing.39 He made his reaction clear to Churchill on the 28th. If
no individual was at fault, then the very intelligence system was flawed. The
COS argument that change was currently inappropriate moreover amounted to
arguing ‘that because [the British were] fighting for [their] lives [they] should
continue to use an inefficient instrument. It [was] precisely because [Britain was]
engaged in a critical war that [they] ought to do now, late though it is, what
should have been done years ago.’ Attlee therefore recommended appointing
‘one directing mind at the head of the Intelligence Service’, and coordinating
military intelligence with SIS. Attlee further suggested ‘that the Cabinet should
direct one individual to survey and report on the Intelligence Services. He should
be a person of analytic mind, detached from all the Services—without parti pris’,
such as ‘the Solicitor General or some other lawyer of high standing’.40
It so happened that the suggestion of a study of the feasibility of intelligence
centralization had already been put before Churchill prior to Attlee’s response. It
originated ironically enough from Churchill’s own Private Secretary brought to
Downing Street from the Admiralty, Eric Seal. He had minuted Churchill on 25
July to say that intelligence coordinating was inadequate, with the JIC recently
offering ‘little more than a reprint of some of the Foreign Office telegrams’, and
that ‘[d]uring Mr Chamberlain’s Premiership Lord Hankey was appointed to
overhaul Secret Intelligence, but his reports were not very helpful, and in fact the
only recommendations he made were of a trifling character [see above, note
23]’. Seal went on to suggest that Lord Lloyd be pressed into service as an
intelligence coordinator on Churchill’s behalf as Minister of Defence. Churchill
dismissed this proposal by scrawling below Seal’s signature a rather trivial
reason for not pursuing the matter: ‘Lord Lloyd is already fully occupied. WSC
26.VII.’41
Seal then used the COS response to Attlee as an opportunity to broach the
subject again on 22 November, when he reiterated his proposal for a ‘Chief
Intelligence Officer’ under Churchill, this time suggesting David Margesson.42
Combined with Attlee’s interest, Seal’s persistence briefly paid off. When
A.W.R.Topham from Attlee’s office wrote Eric Seal on 7 January 1941 to
enquire as to follow up on Attlee’s 28 November minute, Seal replied the same day.
THE BRITISH INTELLIGENCE COMMUNITY 25
He said that Churchill had given thought to Attlee’s minute, dictating ‘a long
note on the subject which he has now marked to be brought up on January 14’.
Seal reminded Churchill of this note on 13 January, and informed him of Attlee’s
enquiry. An undated note with no author named is attached to Seal’s 13 January
reminder, and it covers intelligence coordination, Defence statistical organization
and missions to North America. A series of amendments to the intelligence
portion of the document, elaborating the duties and powers of the intelligence
coordinator along the lines suggested by Seal are also included, but that is where
the trail ends. There is no indication of official consideration. The individual
responsible for collating the file holding these documents was presumably the
author of the notation: ‘Nothing further on this—matter fades away.’43
Churchill’s civil/intelligence aide, Major Desmond Morton, soon delivered the
next overture for intelligence centralization. Morton’s suggestions were no doubt
born of his own experience of the muddled handling of intelligence within
Whitehall. He wrote Ismay on 27 August 1940 to complain that he was not
receiving from the service intelligence directorates the material that he had been
authorized to obtain earlier that month (see above, p.23). He had received much
material from SIS, the FO, and MEW; as well as the Ministry of Information,
and the BBC, but nothing from the military services.44 Ismay responded two
days later, saying that there had been a misunderstanding which involved
confusion over Morton’s receipt of ‘Secret Service Reports’—the military
services’ main source was SIS, so they had not felt it necessary to pass
information to Morton.45 That point had, in fact, already been communicated to
the JIC by the Admiralty and War Office intelligence departments when
Churchill’s directive was first sent out, but no one had seen fit to inform either
Morton or Ismay, thus delaying matters for most of a month.46
Influenced by this episode, Morton minuted his own recipe for rational
intelligence management to Churchill on 20 January 1941, only one week after
Seal’s last abortive communication on the subject. Morton began by noting that
‘You have already mentioned in Cabinet your desire to improve our
Intelligence.’ He continued to point out that British intelligence was primarily
flawed by its ‘failure to collate and appreciate’ the available information. This
Morton ascribed to the overemphasis on ‘the responsibility of Directors of
Intelligence Departments for organisation and gathering information. A Director
of Intelligence should be responsible chiefly for appreciating information. He…
[instead] must form and give opinions on matters of fact.’ Morton went on to
note the too-rigid separation of intelligence from planning, and recommended as
a remedy the establishment of an ‘Intelligence Executive’ (not a Chiefs of Staff
Subcommittee like the JIC) composed of a Chairman and Vice-Chairman from
the Ministry of Defence, and representatives from the interested services, the
FO, MEW and the Colonial Office. The Executive would report to the Minister of
Defence (Churchill), and be responsible for appreciating information available
on overseas events. The members of the Executive would be in permanent
session, with no other duties, and the Chair and his Vice would have full access
26 AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON
to Cabinet and COS papers. Morton concluded by saying that such a body, ‘if it
proves successful, could form the nucleus of the Central Government
Intelligence Organisation’.47
Churchill did not feel moved to accept this suggestion either, since Morton’s
proposals came to nothing. The same held true in October 1942, when Morton
again brought up the matter, and re-submitted his minute of January 1941.
Regarding Churchill’s non-receipt of an Air Ministry intelligence report, Morton
said that ‘the incident serves to bring up again the question of whether the present
organisation of Intelligence in general cannot be improved. I am not talking about
“C” but about something of wider scope.’ He reminded Churchill of his previous
minute on the subject, and attached a copy.48 Churchill merely replied to the
question with some apparent disbelief about there being ‘no arrangement by
which all Intelligence of the Department is brought together’, and to order
Morton to ‘weed out’ telegrams ‘of special interest or importance so as not to
burden [the PM] with too much’.49 General Ismay was then minuted to ensure
that Churchill got a better service in intelligence telegrams, with Morton seeing
them and feeding them to the PM. This procedure was marked as ‘now working’
on 23 November 1942. More tedious drone work was thus the sole result of
Morton’s repeated supplications.50
The impetus to effect some sort of consolidated direction of intelligence next
surfaced seriously with regard to the issue of SIS-SOE coordination. The
Security Service (MI5) proffered in March 1943 that the two overseas
clandestine services be combined with itself through a committee mechanism as
a means of reducing damaging competitive friction between them, but Churchill
personally quashed that idea. He wrote that the ‘illusions’ of permanence held by
wartime departments like SOE should not be ‘encouraged’, and that he felt ‘that
it would be a mistake at the present time to stir up all these pools’. ‘I do not think
that the kind of Committee you propose would be fruitful’; better that the heads
of MI5, SIS and SOE meet monthly with Major Morton so that ‘cases of friction
could be smoothed out and common action promoted’.51
These meetings were held only twice, and the limitation of this set-up was
soon made clear. In a meeting of the Defence Committee on 2 August, the Chief
of the Imperial General Staff, General Sir Alan Brooke, strongly pointed out in
the PM’s presence that ‘a closer relationship was required not only between SOE
and the Chiefs of Staff but also between SOE and SIS. Only recently the Chiefs
of Staff had received through SIS information relating to the penetration by the
enemy of certain Resistance Groups in France.’ Brooke went on to stress that it
‘was wrong that this important information should reach the Chiefs of Staff in
this way. They should have received it from SOE themselves. He endorsed the
suggestion of the Chief of the Air Staff that SOE be more closely integrated with
the Chiefs of Staff organisation.’ In response,
THE PRIME MINISTER emphasised the immense value to the war effort
of stimulating resistance amongst the people of Europe. He recognised that
THE BRITISH INTELLIGENCE COMMUNITY 27
It was therefore agreed that the COS should be ‘kept continually informed of
SOE activities and intentions’, and that SOE views should be expressed in person
to the COS when their activities were under discussion.52
The COS followed this apparent Prime Ministerial injunction to harmonize the
overseas secret services with a report on the SOE organization on 30 September.
They urged forthrightly that they wanted the ‘higher control and direction’ of SOE
transferred to them, ‘acting in consultation with the Foreign Office. This would
be in accordance with the normal procedure for the strategical conduct of the war
on the high level. It would not involve the creation of any new machinery.’ The
proposal evidently did not meet with the PM’s substantive support, but its
timeliness was underscored within three months when a major disaster came to
light which dramatically focused attention on the question of effective
intelligence management.53
The COS directed the JIC on 1 December 1943 to investigate the SOE effort
in Holland—and throughout Europe—due to the receipt by the Air Ministry of
original information from two Dutch escapees indicating that SOE’s Holland
network had been penetrated by the Germans since late 1942. This was the first
evidence of the German Englandspiel, the playing of captured SOE agents in
Holland by German counter-intelligence, owing in great part to the failure of
established SOE security procedures.54 More information came to light later that
day. The COS noted that ’[i]t appeared that SIS had had doubts for some time as
to the situation in Holland, and had issued warnings to SOE on the subject’. The
Minister of Economic Warfare, Lord Selborne, countered that such warnings had
been received only recently. He also noted that when heavy Dutch casualties
arose in June 1943, parallel SOE and SIS enquiries had both been negative. SOE
then attributed the casualties to increased German night fighter operations
intercepting British clandestine aircraft carrying agents for insertion.55
The JIC report on their enquiry into the fiasco was considered by the COS on
3 January 1944. CIGS Brooke stated outright that the situation ‘was so serious
that he felt that the Chiefs of Staff should again state their opinion that from the
military point of view it was desirable that the SIS and SOE should be brought
under one ministerial head’. The Ministry of Defence was suited for that role,
but if difficulties arose from removing SIS from Foreign Office control, Brooke
wanted SOE to join SIS under the FO. Sir Hastings Ismay replied that since
Churchill ‘had always taken a keen personal interest in these questions’, it was
best that the COS view should be given to the PM before their consideration by
28 AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON
the Defence Committee or the War Cabinet. Ismay was thus directed to inform
the PM and Deputy PM accordingly.56
Ismay clearly told Churchill that the COS believed ‘that the time [had] come
to make a fresh start and to find a radical solution to this troublesome problem.
They feel strongly that SOE and SIS should be under the same ministerial
control.’57 This issue was further addressed by the Foreign Secretary, Anthony
Eden, who indicated that the JIC report was ‘certainly most disquieting’, and that
the matter needed ‘to be fully gone into by Ministers’. He did not approve of
SOE coming under the FO, however, since it allegedly lacked the resources and
personnel to direct it. The Ministry of Defence was Eden’s preferred home for
SOE, ‘with day to day control by the Chiefs of Staff in consultation with [Eden
himself] only in respect of policy’. The Foreign Secretary conceded that SOE—
SIS relations had ‘never been easy’, but he remained unconvinced that
amalgamation was the solution. The two services’ roles were distinct, while SIS
was a small, professional ‘service of long standing’ and proven capacity; SOE
was conversely ‘a large, loose organisation improvised to meet war needs’ (one
official, the future Lord Gladwyn, described the FO as ‘quite unduly suspicious
of SOE’ despite its ‘war-winning potentialities’ if it were ‘intelligently used’).
Anthony Eden thus supported coordination under the Ministry of Defence, but
not necessarily full amalgamation; his reservations regarding the creation of a
single intelligence service echoed Churchill’s comments as War Secretary in
1920 (noted above, p.22).58 Clement Attlee then wrote Churchill to say that he
agreed with Eden.59
The Defence Committee eventually considered the JIC report on 14 January
1944, prior to which, on 11 January, Lord Selborne had circulated his own paper
concerning that report. Selborne’s paper held that the JIC report revealed ‘certain
grave misapprehensions on matters of fact which is not altogether surprising in
that the JIC normally have no contact with SOE’, and since SOE was not itself
contacted for evidence ‘specifically connected with the wider issues…[the JIC
had] raised’. While the Joint Planners were familiar with the method of COS
direction of SOE operations, they were not consulted by the JIC, and worse still,
SOE was in fact ‘practically excluded from contact with the JIC as all
intelligence received by SOE from its own sources is, by charter, passed direct to
SIS, whose representative [“C”] attends JIC meetings as required’.60
Selborne further noted that the JIC raised the issues of ‘coordination with SIS,
the necessity for unification of intelligence and subversive activities and the
institution of a single system of clandestine communications’. He observed
Churchill’s ruling in COS (43) 618 (O) that the ‘SOE organisation [would]
preserve its integrity under the Minister of Economic Warfare’; that the COS
recommendations for closer control through the submission to them of SOE
reports had been accepted (in COS [43] 240th Meeting of 7 October); that the
COS had not subsequently complained about the matter; and that no SOE officer
was permitted to sit with the COS. ‘On this point I can only repeat that I have
throughout been anxious that SOE should be subject to the control’ of the COS,
THE BRITISH INTELLIGENCE COMMUNITY 29
‘and should furnish them with all the information they desire’. He also stated
that the functions of SIS and SOE, ‘separated by War Cabinet decision in June
1940’, should be kept that way. He then concluded that SOE should have the
same relationship with the COS as the Army’s commandos. If SOE’s current
separation from the Ministry of Defence precluded this arrangement, he fully
supported placing SOE under the MoD ‘with or without the Minister of
Economic Warfare, who could either act as the Minister of Defence’s Under
Secretary or be eliminated’.61
At the 14 January Defence Committee meeting itself, a good deal of
discussion revolved around the issue of the control of SOE by the COS, with
Selborne stating that SOE should join the COS Committee itself. General Ismay
said that the COS would discourage the suggestion that their Committee be
enlarged to include SOE given permanent representation as a ‘fourth service’.
Ismay went on to say that in his personal opinion, many difficulties would
diminish if special operations came under military control through theatre
Commanders-in-Chief. Selborne agreed, but pointed out that this had indeed
been the case for some time. The Foreign Secretary then commented, saying that
the JIC and Selborne reports indicated an unresolvable conflict of evidence. He
then reiterated his objections to the amalgamation of SIS and SOE, ‘but
wondered, however, whether the COS would like to put forward a plan for the
future organisation of SOE and for the relationship which it should have with
SIS’. It has been seen above that in COS (44) 1st Meeting of 3 January, the COS
did in fact have such a plan, which they had stated directly to Ismay—mandate
control of both organizations through the Ministry of Defence. Eden, Attlee and
Selborne had accepted that as a solution, albeit with differing degrees of
enthusiasm. Ismay, however, was now evidently not about to forget where his
first loyalty lay, since he replied to Eden that ‘he felt that the COS would take
the view that this was a matter for Ministers’, the Prime Minister in particular,
presumably. Ismay then took the initiative to define ‘the sense of the [Defence]
Committee’ as being ‘that the control of special operations should be
decentralised [sic] to Commanders-in-Chief. This point was duly recorded in the
Committee’s conclusions as being ‘desirable in principle’, and Churchill so
informed on 29 January. Exit organizational reform.62
Churchill was not prepared to alter this situation as the war drew to a close.
Lord Selborne counselled in October 1944 ‘that a nucleus of SOE should be
continued after the war’. The Secretary to the Cabinet, Sir Edward Bridges, said
that this suggestion raised ‘the same question as arises about many inter-Service
organisations, particularly in the intelligence field; namely “To Whom should
these organisations be responsible?”’—this had also been the case concerning the
issue of a possible SIS-MI5 merger in June 1944 which went nowhere, largely
because of the military’s concerns about SIS answering to both the Foreign and
Home Secretaries, and about checks on security authorities (cf. the significance
of MI5’s lack of arrest powers in Chapter 7, p. 189). Bridges went on to submit
that SOE’s future had to be resolved to prevent the secret services developing on
30 AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON
divergent lines. This subtle call for timely decision was followed with the
observation that such a question could not be answered until Britain’s post-war
defence organization was decided. Would there be a ‘full-blooded’ Ministry of
Defence, or just a Minister of Defence like Churchill? If the latter, current
arrangements permitted making such organizations responsible to him; if the
former, then the necessary machinery had to be arranged. Regarding the control
of SOE military functions for the duration of the war, the likelihood that MEW
would be ‘wound up in the near future’ suggested that such control should be
exercised by the COS ‘in close collaboration with the Foreign Office’. The
necessary machinery could then be worked out between the FO and COS.63 This
analysis was sent to Churchill; the PM noted the minute, but gave no further
indication of his views.64
The Foreign Secretary soon weighed in with his own thoughts on 23
November. MEW’s ‘impending disbandment’ raised the issue of responsibility
for SOE. The war with Japan continued, while ‘in liberated territories and in
neutral countries there [might] be…useful scope for a covert organisation to
further the policy of HM Government’. Eden would therefore regret abandoning
all ‘special operations’ machinery even after the war. His preference was to put
SOE activities and SIS ‘under the same controlling head’ since only chaos would
result through two independent secret organizations working in foreign countries
during peacetime. The Foreign Secretary was evidently trying to profit from the
experience of clandestine chaos in wartime. He went on to say that as Foreign
Secretary, he was responsible for SIS and the Political Warfare Executive’s
propaganda work; he was also in his personal capacity responsible for MI5 (see
below, Chapter 7, p. 189). Eden therefore proposed assuming Selborne’s
responsibility for SOE, and responsibility for administration and policy
concerning special operations.65 So much for Eden’s January argument about the
FO lacking the machinery or personnel to control SOE.
The Chiefs of Staff were provided with a copy of this minute, and they
reviewed and accepted its proposals provided that the FO’s control of SOE was
temporary and ‘in no way prejudice[d] the future control of either SOE or SIS,
both of which the Chiefs of Staff would prefer to see under the Ministry of
Defence’; that SOE would preserve its own Head without being placed under
‘C’; and that SOE’s Head dealt directly with the COS on all operational
matters.66 These provisos were communicated to Eden and Selborne, and were
evidently accepted.67 Upon receipt of a 14 August 1945 report by an ad hoc
committee under the Chairman of the JIC regarding the future of SOE, the COS
noted that ‘for the present the organisation could continue under the Foreign
Office’.68 That had only come about, of course, because MEW was disbanded,
and actual SOE activities were winding down. Further movement on the question
of intelligence centralization progressed only after Churchill’s departure from the
Premiership, and Clement Attlee’s succession. As the man who had himself
pushed more than once for greater intelligence coordination, Attlee rapidly (31
August) approved the ad hoc report’s recommendation that SIS and SOE ‘should,
THE BRITISH INTELLIGENCE COMMUNITY 31
for the present, be placed under a common executive head’, and that
‘arrangements should be made to appoint an Executive Head of the Secret
Service having separate Special Operations and Secret Intelligence branches with
common services’; after the Defence Committee ‘[i]nvited “C” and “CD” to
effect such measures of coordination as were practicable’, it was subsequently
‘agreed with “C”’ that the ‘part of SOE which was required by the Secret Service
should be merged into SIS’ effective 30 June 1946.69
Attlee had thus initiated within a month of taking office a course of action
designed to integrate intelligence activities, all in response to a single ad hoc
report from the Chairman of the JIC, later supported by a report from a
committee established under Sir Findlater Stewart to study the entire intelligence
establishment. This was in direct contrast to the fate of such proposals under
Churchill. The open documentation shows in unambiguous detail a multitude of
instances where Churchill received overture after overture throughout the war,
from the highest echelons of the Cabinet, the special services, the military, and
the civil service concerning the need to improve the coordination and structure of
Britain’s intelligence system. On no fewer than eighteen different occasions
between 1940–44, these recommendations, plans, concurrences and/or reminders
of plans were communicated to Churchill—four times by the Chiefs of Staff
(August 1943; September 1943; January 1944; November 1944); thrice by Attlee,
the Deputy Prime Minister (two in November 1940; one in January 1944); thrice
by Eric Seal, the PM’s own Private Secretary (July 1940; November 1940; January
1941); twice by Desmond Morton, the PM’s own intelligence functionary
(January 1941; October 1942); twice by Anthony Eden, the Foreign Secretary
(January 1944; November 1944); once by Lord Selborne, the Minister of
Economic Warfare, who was prepared to give up his position to effect change
(January 1944); once by MI5 (March 1943); once by the JIC (January 1944); and
once by the Secretary to the Cabinet, Sir Edward Bridges (October 1944). None
of these was to any avail. The inclination of the Prime Minister in power was
obviously of paramount importance to the form and control of British
intelligence. As the primary consumer of intelligence, the PM had the power to
fashion the system to his liking, with consequent ramifications for the efficiency
and effectiveness of the component services. This judgement is certainly contrary
to the dubiously reasoned and thinly documented theses of works such as Nigel
West’s Secret War, and Robert Marshall’s All the King’s Men, both of which
strive to attribute the problems between SIS and SOE in particular to gratuitous
inter-service rivalry, and in the case of Marshall, even dark conspiracy.70 As
demonstrated by the events surrounding the 1943 failure in Holland detailed
above, one need not look to conspiracy or thoughtless competition when the
outstanding issue of command and control of SOE, as well as the unresolved
question of how best to coordinate that service with SIS at the highest levels of
the intelligence system, can be so clearly documented.
These problems persisted throughout the war, with the JIC proving an
inadequate mechanism for their resolution. This survey of Churchill’s preferred
32 AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON
NOTES
1. Consider Stanley P.Lovell to Ned Buxton, December 1944, p. 3, Entry 180, Reel
118, R[ecord]G[roup] 226, US National Archives and Records Administration,
Washington, DC [hereafter NARA]: ‘Since the days of Queen Elizabeth Great
Britain has maintained her Secret Intelligence Service. It was founded by a great
Englishman, greatly ignored by History, Sir Francis Walsingham. Sir Francis it was
who gave the masculine Elizabeth advance intelligence…which greatly help to
explain the flowering of England under the Virgin Queen. As we looked over the
world scene we saw the British Secret Agent as a real power in the world. We
noted that to likely British youth a career in Secret Intelligence was as noble and
fine a future as a talented youngster could pick. Why was this so…? The answer is
that in the generation between World Wars I and II the minds of Britons had been
dramatically touched. Touched by Somerset Maughan [sic] in his classic
“Ashenden, the British Agent”, by Lord Tweedsmuir (John Buchan) in “The
Twenty-Nine Steps” [sic] and scores of other stories…until the life-long or life-short
profession of British Agent appealed to Britons as the acme of patriotism,
adventure and reward’; see also William J.Morgan, The OSS and I (New York:
W.W.Norton, 1957), p. 20; Thomas Powers, The Man who kept the Secrets:
Richard Helms and the CIA (New York: Alfred A.Knopf, 1979), p. 21; Patrick
Howarth, Intelligence Chief Extraordinary: The Life of the Ninth Duke of Portland
(London: The Bodley Head, 1986), pp. 111, 114.
2. Andrew, Secret Service, pp. 1–59.
3. See the PRO’s HD 3 Foreign Office: Permanent Under Secretary’s Department:
Correspondence and Papers series of records—see Louise Atherton, TOP SECRET:
An Interim Guide to Recent Releases of Intelligence Records at the Public Record
Office (London: PRO Publications, 1993), especially pp. 7–13, 16–20, 30–1.
4. David French, ‘Spy Fever in Britain, 1900–1915’, Historical Journal 21, 2 (1978),
pp. 355–70; David Trotter, ‘The Politics of Adventure in the Early British Spy
Novel’, Intelligence and National Security 5, 4 (October 1990), pp. 32–54; Nicholas
P.Hiley, ‘Decoding German Spies: British Spy Fiction 1908–1918’, Intelligence
and National Security 5, 4 (October 1990), pp. 55–77; on the impact of Erskine
Childers’s The Riddle of the Sands, see Maldwin Drummond, The Riddle (London:
Nautical Books, 1985), pp. 153–201.
5. French, ‘Fever’, pp. 355–70; Nicholas P.Hiley, The Failure of British Counter-
Espionage Against Germany, 1907–1914’, Historical Journal 28, 4 (1985), pp.
835–62; F.H.Hinsley, et al., British Intelligence in the Second World War: Its
Influence on Strategy and Operations, Vol. I (London: HMSO, 2nd impression,
THE BRITISH INTELLIGENCE COMMUNITY 35
1986), p. 16; see also Nicholas P.Hiley, ‘The Failure of British Espionage Against
Germany, 1907–1914’, Historical Journal 26, 4 (1983), pp. 867–89.
6. Hinsley, I, pp. 16–18.
7. Ibid., pp. 48–51, 55–6; see also Eunan O’Halpin, ‘Financing British Intelligence:
the Evidence up to 1945’, in Robertson (ed.), Approaches, pp. 202, 211–12; for a
portrait of inter-war British intelligence, see Andrew, Secret Service, especially pp.
339–59, 376–411, Wark, Ultimate, pp. 21, 47, 232.
8. Hinsley, I, p. 87; on the state of SIS, see Howarth, Chief, pp. 111–14; M.R.D.Foot,
Resistance: An Analysis of European Resistance to Nazism, 1940–1945 (London:
Eyre Methuen, 1976), pp. 134–5; for more caustic observations, Hugh Trevor-
Roper, The Philby Affair: Espionage, Treason, and Secret Services (London:
William Kimber, 1968), pp. 39, 42, 47, 69; see Andrew, Secret Service, pp. 448–63
on intelligence mobilization in general; see also Christopher Andrew, ‘The
Mobilization of British Intelligence for the Two World Wars’, in N.F.Dreiszinger
(ed.), Mobilization for Total War (Waterloo: Wilfred Laurier University Press,
1981), pp. 107, 109–10; see also Christopher Andrew, ‘F.H.Hinsley and the
Cambridge moles: two patterns of intelligence recruitment’, in Richard Langhorne
(ed.), Diplomacy and Intelligence during the Second World War: Essays in honour
of F.H.Hinsley (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1985), pp. 31–3,
concerning the recruitment of university graduates; for German perceptions of SIS,
see Walter Schellenberg, Invasion 1940: The Nazi Invasion Plan for Britain
(London: St Ermin’s Press, 2000), pp. 121–44.
9. Hinsley, I, pp. 36–43; most of the pre-war minutes and memoranda of the JIC are
now available at the PRO in CAB 56; early wartime minutes and memoranda are in
CAB 81.
10. Edward Thomas, ‘The Evolution of the JIC System Up to and During World War
II’, in Christopher Andrew and Jeremy Noakes (eds), Intelligence and
International Relations, 1900–1945 (Exeter: Exeter University Publications, 1987),
pp. 220–32.
11. Beaumont-Nesbitt to Ismay, 9 February 1940; Ismay to Colonel Petibon, 14
February 1940; both in CAB 21/1425, PRO; on MIR, see also Nigel West, MI6:
British Secret Intelligence Service Operations, 1909–45 (London: Panther, 1985),
pp. 115–16.
12. Beaumont-Nesbitt to Ismay, 3 March 1940; on the Cadogan committee, see G.
Barnard to Ismay, 2 April 1940; both in CAB 21/1425, PRO; cf. Andrew, Secret
Service, pp. 471–6.
13. Ismay to Beaumont-Nesbitt, 5 March 1940, CAB 21/1425, PRO.
14. Ismay to [Cabinet] Secretary, 8 March 1940; Bridges to Ismay, 12 March 1940;
Ismay to COS, 29 March 1940, which notes the JIC proposing the ISPB in the
paper COS (40) 271, both in CAB 21/1425, PRO.
15. Ismay to COS, 29 March 1940.
16. Ibid.; on Menzies (pronounced as ‘Meng-eez’), see Charles Whiting, The Battle for
Twelveland: An account of Anglo-American intelligence operations within Nazi
Germany, 1939–1945 (London: Transworld, 1975), p. 23, and Troy, Donovan, p.
32; West, MI6, pp. 141–4; Andrew, Secret Service, pp. 343–4, 439; the designation
‘C’ was derived from the name of the first CSS, Mansfield Gumming; see Andrew,
Secret Service, p. 73; Hinsley, I, p. xi.
17. Churchill minute, 2 April 1940, CAB 21/1425, PRO.
36 AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON
18. G.Barnard to Ismay, 2 April 1940, on Hankey’s reaction, CAB 21/1425, PRO; see
Hinsley, I, pp. 93–4, on ISPB.
19. JIC (40) 36 (also as COS [40] 305 [JIC]), CAB 21/1425, PRO.
20. Registry form regarding the DCOS (40) 19th Mtg, 30 April 1940, CAB 21/1425,
PRO.
21. See also Hinsley, I, pp. 93–4, and Wesley K.Wark, ‘Beyond Intelligence: The
Study of British Strategy and the Norway Campaign, 1940’, in Michael Graham
Fry (ed.), Power, Personalities and Policies: Essays in Honour of Donald Cameron
Watt (London: Frank Cass, 1992), pp. 238–40.
22. Hinsley, I, pp. 18–19.
23. Christopher Andrew, ‘Churchill and Intelligence’, Intelligence and National
Security 3, 3 (July 1988), pp. 181–93; Hinsley, I, p. 160; the role of SIS in the JIC
is also acknowledged in the American Liaison Sub-Committee of the War Cabinet,
AL (41) 1st Mtg, 29 May 1941 (noting the presence besides the service intelligence
departments of ‘representatives of other Departments particularly concerned with
intelligence’), in CAB 99/9, PRO; see also COS (40) 932 (Final) of 14 November
1940, PREM 4/97/11, PRO, which outlines the intelligence structure, including the
place of the ‘officer in charge of the SIS’ within the JIC; on Hankey’s review, see
Hinsley, I, pp. 91–2, and Wark, ‘Beyond’, in Fry (ed.), Power, p. 239.
24. Churchill to Ismay, for Menzies, 5 August 1940; Ismay passed on the verbatim
substance of Churchill’s pugnacious directive to Menzies that same day, adding a
PS that he believed that Morton ‘has already told you the Prime Minister’s wishes:
but thought it better to let you have his exact minute’; on 21 August, someone
informed Colonel Jacob of the Secretariat that no reply from Menzies had been
received, although he ‘may have rendered a report direct to Major Morton’, and
enquiring whether to remind Menzies; when asked that same day whether he
wished any further action to be taken on the question, Ismay replied, ‘No. This is
Morton’s pigeon!’; all in CAB 120/746, PRO; cf. Hinsley, I, p. 295, which quotes
only the first paragraph of the 5 August minute to Menzies (described as ‘to
General Ismay’ alone) as an illustration of Churchill’s irritation with ‘collective
wisdom’.
25. Draft Paper on the History of the Photo Reconnaissance Unit, n.d., AIR 40/1816,
PRO.
26. See Hinsley, I, pp. 26–30, 274–82, 496–9; Andrew, ‘Mobilization’, p. 106;
on destruction of SIS networks, see M.R.D.Foot, ‘Was SOE Any Good?’, Journal
of Contemporary History 16, 1 (January 1981), p. 172, and M.R.D.Foot, ‘A
Comparison of SOE and OSS’, in Robertson (ed.), p. 156.
27. Hinsley, I, p. 20; Peter Gudgin, Military Intelligence: The British Story (London:
Arms and Armour, 1989), p. 53; Andrew, Secret Service, pp. 259–60.
28. Hinsley, I, pp. 54, 108–9, 488–95; Andrew, Secret Service, pp. 449–51; Gordon
Welchman, The Hut Six Story: Breaking the Enigma Codes (New York: McGraw-
Hill, 1982), pp. 1–115; Jean Stengers, ‘Enigma, the French, the Poles and the
British, 1931–1940’, in Andrew and Dilks (eds), Missing, pp. 101–37; Hugh Sebag-
Montefiore, Enigma: The Battle for the Code (London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson,
2000).
29. Andrew, Secret Service, pp. 448–9, 486; Welchman, Six, pp. 92, 128, 160.
30. Hinsley, I, pp. 295–6.
THE BRITISH INTELLIGENCE COMMUNITY 37
31. Howarth, Chief, p. 144, quotes Cavendish-Bentinck of the JIC as saying that
‘Churchill had a tendency to create his own intelligence’; cf. Robert Cecil, ‘“C’s”
War’, Intelligence and National Security 1, 2 (May 1986), pp. 179–80.
32. ‘C’s’ view is recorded in the OSS/Washington report ‘Coordination of Intelligence
Functions and the Organization of Secret Intelligence in the British Intelligence
System’, July 1945, p. 39, held in the Sir William Stephenson File, Folder 78, Box
120B, William J.Donovan Papers, US Army Military History Institute (USAMHI),
Carlisle Barracks, Carlisle, Pennsylvania; Arthur B.Darling MS, ‘The Central
Intelligence Agency: An Instrument of Government, to 1950, Vol. I’, DCI
Historical Series, December 1950, pp. 29–30, and Ludwell Lee Montague Ms,
‘General Walter Bedell Smith as Director of Central Intelligence, October 1950–
February 1953, Vol. I: The Essential Background’, DCI Historical Series,
December 1971, p. 18, both in RG 263, NARA, each identify this report as being
written by the Deputy G-2 12th US Army Group, William Harding Jackson, after a
1945 trip to England to study the British intelligence system; Montague cites a
December 1969 letter he received from Jackson to note that Foreign Secretary
Anthony Eden was Jackson’s main source of information; Eden was at that time the
minister responsible for SIS through the Foreign Office, and responsible in his
personal capacity for MI5 (see Chapter 7).
33. See also Malcom Muggeridge, Chronicles of Wasted Time, Vol. 2: The Infernal
Grove (London: Collins, 1973), p. 128, and Anthony Verrier, Through the Looking
Glass: British Foreign Policy in an Age of Illusions (New York: W.W. Norton,
1983), pp. 25–8, 40.
34. Hinsley, I, pp. 277–8; see Wark, ‘Beyond’, in Fry (ed.), Power, pp. 240–4.
35. Quotations from Andrew, Secret Service, pp. 475–6.
36. See David Stafford, The Detonator Concept: British Strategy, SOE and European
Resistance After the Fall of France’, Journal of Contemporary History 10, 2 (April
1975), pp. 185–217; David Stafford, Britain and European Resistance, 1940–1945:
A Survey of the Special Operations Executive, with Documents (London:
Macmillan, 1980), pp. 2, 10–49; J.R.M.Butler, Grand Strategy, Vol. II: September
1939–June 1941 (London: HMSO, 1957), pp. 212–17, 344, 408–15; J.M.A.Gwyer,
Grand Strategy, Vol. III: June 1941–August 1942, part i (London: HMSO, 1964),
pp. 21–48; W.N.Medlicott, The Economic Blockade, Vol. I (London: HMSO and
Longmans, Green, 1952), pp. 25–9, 33, 43, 47, 420–1; see also the Official History
by Foot, SOE; David Reynolds, ‘Churchill and the British “Decision” to fight on in
1940: right policy, wrong reasons’, in Langhorne (ed.), Diplomacy, pp. 14–67,
David Stafford, ‘Britain Looks at Europe, 1940: Some Origins of SOE’, Canadian
Journal of History 10, 1 (April 1975), pp. 239–48; David Stafford, ‘Secret
Operations versus Secret Intelligence in World War II: The British Experience’, in
Timothy Travers and Christon Archer (eds), Men at War: Politics, Technology and
Innovation in the Twentieth Century (Chicago: Precedent, 1982), pp. 120, 128–9;
Brian Bond (ed.) Chief of Staff: The Diaries of Lieutenant-General Sir Henry
Pownall, Vol. II: 1940–1944 (London: Leo Cooper, 1974), pp. 23–7; Cecil, ‘“C’s”’,
p. 176.
37. Note by Lord Privy Seal, via PM for Ismay, 5 November 1940; L.C.Hollis to
A.M.R. Topham, 24 November 1940; both in PREM 4/97/11, PRO; cf. Hinsley, I,
pp. 291–6, on the issue of intelligence centralization; Hinsley, I, p. 291 also
erroneously attributes the origin of the questions about the intelligence service, and
38 AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON
about ‘who’ was responsible for it, to Churchill—COS (40) 932 of 14 November is
cited, even though this document clearly states that the questions originated with
the Lord Privy Seal; Andrew, Secret Service, p. 485, repeats this; see also Thomas,
‘JIC’, in Andrew and Noakes (eds), International, p. 233, regarding the presumed
dearth of alternatives to the JIC system of intelligence coordination.
38. COS (40) 932 (Final), 14 November 1940, PREM 4/97/11, PRO.
39. Hollis to Topham, 24 November 1940, PREM 4/97/11, PRO.
40. Attlee to PM, 28 November 1940, PREM 4/97/11, PRO.
41. Seal to PM, 25 July 1940, PREM 4/97/11, PRO.
42. Seal to PM, 22 November 1940, PREM 4/97/11, PRO.
43. Topham to Seal, 7 January 1941; Seal to Topham, 7 January 1941 (this is the
document with the ‘Nothing further…’ notation); Seal to PM, 13 January 1941,
with attachment and amendments, on 10 Downing Street letterhead; all in PREM 4/
97/11, PRO; see Andrew, Secret Service, p. 485, which mentions that Churchill
was at this time ‘carefully considering… Intelligence and Secret Service control’.
44. Morton to Ismay, 27 August 1940, CAB 120/746, PRO.
45. Ismay to Morton, 29 August 1940, CAB 120/746, PRO.
46. Lt-Col Edwards to DNI, DMI and ACAS(I), 29 August 1940; P.R.Chambers to
Edwards, 5 August 1940; Maj.-Gen. Beaumont-Nesbitt to Edwards, 9 August
1940; all in CAB 120/746, PRO.
47. Morton to PM, 20 January 1941, PREM 4/97/11, PRO.
48. Morton to PM, 30 October 1942; Morton to PM, 3 November 1942; both in PREM
4/97/11, PRO.
49. Churchill to Morton, 1 November 1942, PREM 4/97/11, PRO.
50. Churchill to Ismay, 5 November 1942, with handwritten notation of 23 November,
PREM 4/97/11, PRO.
51. Hinsley, II, pp. 14–17; F.H.Hinsley and C.A.G.Simkins, British Intelligence in the
Second World War, Vol. IV: Security and Counter-intelligence (New York:
Cambridge University Press, 1990), pp. 173–5; for a source of the friction, see also
COS (43) 142 (O), 20 March 1943, CAB 80/68, PRO (the SOE Directive for
1943), which states that the ‘requirements of SIS should in general be accorded
priority over your own operations’ in western Europe; the July 1945 OSS report by
Jackson, ‘Coordination of Intelligence Functions’, Donovan Papers, USAMHI notes
that the ‘lack of cooperation between SIS and SOE was a notable instance of failure
in the British system’ (p. 55), and that the ‘coordination between the secret
intelligence agencies and…the Special Operations Executive…has been sporadic
and undirected’ (p. 65); see also Stafford, ‘Secret’, p. 133; WO 193/624, PRO
contains a series of October–November 1942 memoranda pertaining to the
appointment of Col E.H.L.Beddington from the MO Directorate ‘as a link between
SIS and SOE and co-ordinate their work with general Staff policy’; although his
charter has been weeded, it is shown that SIS and SOE would equally share the
cost of his salary.
52. Extract from DO (43) 7th Mtg, 2 August 1943; F.H.Hinsley, et al., British
Intelligence in the Second World War: Its Influence on Strategy and Operations,
Vol. III, Part 1 (London: HMSO, 1984), p. 462, cites a copy of this document held
in CAB 69/5 without giving details of its contents.
53. COS (43) 594 (O), 30 September 1943, CAB 80/75; the background of this report
can be traced in COS (42) 150th Mtg, 14 May 1942, CAB 79/20, and in COS (42)
THE BRITISH INTELLIGENCE COMMUNITY 39
172nd Mtg, 8 June 1942, CAB 79/21; see also the extract of COS (43) 180th Mtg
(O), 4 August 1943, Minute 5, WO 193/624; all in PRO.
54. COS (43) 293rd Mtg, 1 December 1943, CAB 79/88, PRO; on the Englandspiel,
see H.J.Giskes, London Calling North Pole (London: William Kimber, 1953), pp.
39–136, 202–3; Lauren Paine, The Abwehr: German Military Intelligence in World
War II (London: Robert Hale, 1984), pp. 139–49.
55. COS (43) 294th Mtg, 1 December 1943, both in CAB 79/88; see also E.I.C.Jacob
to Deputy Prime Minister, 1 December 1943, CAB 120/827; all in PRO.
56. COS (44) 1st Mtg, 3 January 1944 on JIC (43) 517 (O), SOE Operations in Europe,
CAB 79/89, PRO.
57. Ismay to PM, 5 January 1944, CAB 120/827, PRO.
58. Eden to PM, 5 January 1944, CAB 120/827, PRO; Gladwyn view from Lord
Gladwyn, The Memoirs of Lord Gladwyn (New York: Weybright and Talley,
1972), p. 103.
59. Ismay to Deputy Prime Minister, 3 January 1944; Attlee to PM, 6 January 1944, both
in CAB 120/827, PRO.
60. DO (44) 2, 11 January 1944, SOE Operations in Europe—Note by Minister of
Economic Warfare, CAB 69/6, PRO.
61. Ibid.; JIC chairman Cavendish-Bentinck reiterates the need for SIS-SOE
coordination in Howarth, Chief, pp. 174–5; Foot, Resistance, p. 265, notes that SIS
handled SOE ciphers during the Dutch Englandspiel.
62. DO (44) 2nd Mtg, 14 January 1944, CAB 69/6; L.C.Hollis to PM, 29 January
1944, CAB 120/827; both in PRO.
63. Bridges to PM, 25 October 1944, CAB 120/827, PRO; June 1944 SIS-MI5 proposals,
Hinsley and Simkins, IV, pp. 175–8.
64. G.B.Baker to Maj.-Gen. Jacob, 26 October 1944, CAB 120/827, PRO.
65. Eden to PM, 23 November 1944, Annex I to COS (44) 381st Mtg (O), CAB 79/83,
PRO.
66. COS (44) 381st Mtg (O), Minute 6, 27 November 1944, Confidential Annex, CAB
79/83, PRO.
67. L.C.Hollis to PM, 4 December 1944, CAB 120/827, PRO.
68. COS (45) 198th Mtg, 14 August 1945, CAB 79/37, PRO.
69. Ismay to PM (Attlee), 14 August 1945; Ismay to PM, 27 August 1944, suggesting
that the Defence Committee meet on the subject of SOE’s future, marked
‘Approved CRA 27.8.45’, both in CAB 120/827; DO (45) 4th Mtg, 31 August
1945, CAB 69/7; COS (45) 289th Mtg, 27 December 1945, CAB 79/42; COS (46)
58th Mtg, 11 April 1946, CAB 79/47; all in PRO; the ad hoc report was
memorandum COS (45) 504 (O), not currently available in the PRO.
70. Nigel West, Secret War: The Story of SOE, Britain’s Wartime Sabotage
Organisation (London: Hodder and Stoughton, 1992), pp. 2–6, 246–54; Robert
Marshall, All the King’s Men: The Truth Behind SOE’s Greatest Wartime Disaster
(London: Collins, 1988), effectively discredited by Mark Seaman’s review in
Intelligence and National Security 4, 1 (January 1989), pp. 198–201.
71. See Hinsley, I, p. 296; F.H.Hinsley, ‘Churchill and Special Intelligence’, in Robert
Blake and William Roger Louis (eds), Churchill (New York: W.W.Norton, 1993),
pp. 408–12, Andrew, Secret Service, pp. 485–6; Andrew, ‘Churchill and
Intelligence’, pp. 181–93; see also Thomas, ‘JIC’, in Andrew and Noakes (eds),
International, p. 233, and Stafford, ‘Secret’, pp. 131–3; on the Great Game and
40 AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON
Total War, see David Jablonsky, Churchill, The Great Game and Total War
(London: Frank Cass, 1991), pp. 12–23, 29–43, 56–65, 73–6, 84–189.
72. See Churchill to Ismay, 10 February 1944, CAB 120/827, PRO, where he describes
‘the warfare between SOE and SIS’ as ‘lamentable’; see also Stafford, ‘Secret’, p.
133; Stafford, Resistance, pp. 86, 204; cf. West, Secret War, pp. 246–54.
73. Cf. Thomas, ‘JIC’, pp. 232–3.
74. Muggeridge, Chronicles, p. 174; the Abwehr was the German Intelligence Service.
75. Cf. Hinsley, ‘Churchill’, in Blake and Louis (eds), Churchill, pp. 408–12, on the
issue of ‘general direction’; see also Ronald Lewin, Churchill as Warlord (London:
B.T. Batsford, 1973), pp. 3, 43–4, 56–7, 73–5, 132–3, 265–6, and John Charmley,
Churchill: The End of Glory: A Political Biography (Toronto: Macfarlane, Walter
and Ross, 1993), p. 505.
2
The Genesis of OSS/London, and the British
Dimension
Stephenson was duly appointed to the SIS post of Chief, British Security
Coordination (BSC) in the United States in June 1940, in part to smooth the way
for British security and intelligence activities in North America through personal
liaison. Claims advancing a more glamorous and seminal role for Stephenson in
the Anglo-American partnership, and the origins of US intelligence, have little
substantive evidence to support them. They originated for the most part in
Stephenson’s impaired post-war memory, and in the tales of hagiographers.4
What is certain, however, is that Stephenson’s service as an observer in the
British effort to woo the Americans was paralleled by the manner in which
Donovan was also used by President Franklin Roosevelt to assess Britain’s
chances against Germany, in part through the use of links with British
intelligence officials. After journeying to London in July 1940, and meeting
leading figures in SIS and SOE, Donovan returned to communicate to Roosevelt
and the American public that Britain could, and would, fight on. Donovan’s
conclusions, emanating from a Republican, were no doubt expected by the
Democratic president, and designed merely to provide an ostensibly objective
and non-partisan source of public support for the President’s overly cautious
efforts to help Britain as a neutral; but they also opened up possibilities for the
British. Donovan was now on the British bandwagon, weaned on contacts with
the legendary ‘masters’ of British intelligence. He was thus a natural target for
suggestions that America cultivate its own intelligence sources in order to further
its national interests. By so doing he would confirm the British assessments of
the Nazi threat to civilization, and therefore to Britain and America in equal
measure.5
The only scholarly debate concerns the source of these suggestions, and their
role in the genesis of Donovan’s organization. Stephenson partisans credit ‘Little
Bill’ for nurturing his new relationship with his soul-mate, Donovan, throughout
the autumn of 1940. Stephenson was particularly instrumental in arranging a
December trip by Donovan throughout the Middle East and the Balkans for a
tutorial on British strategy (that of closing a ring around the periphery of Europe,
bomb ing, and subversive warfare). The ensuing report by Donovan, his
concomitant enthusiasm for Britain’s intelligence and war efforts, and his
appointment as a Coordinator of Information (COI) in July 1940, are thus
presumed to have enjoyed an exclusive causal relationship, thanks largely to
Stephenson. Another view is that the good offices of British Naval Intelligence
officials were as equally, and perhaps more importantly, involved in the origins
of American intelligence as were Stephenson and SIS.6
The documentation in fact clearly supports a combination of these views:
British Naval Intelligence played the most important role of the two in originally
articulating the actual form of a US intelligence service; Stephenson and BSC
apparently helped to cultivate Donovan’s interest in intelligence, and provided
assistance during the subsequent early days of COI/OSS. In direct response to a
personal request from Donovan, Commander Ian Fleming communicated some
‘suggestions concerned with the obtaining of intelligence through United States
THE GENESIS OF OSS/LONDON 43
sources and the cooperation of US Intelligence Services with our own’ on 9 June
1941 in his capacity as assistant to the Director of British Naval Intelligence (DNI),
Rear-Admiral John Godfrey. Although they were ‘submitted privately’, they
were first vetted by Godfrey, with an information copy to Stephenson. While
naturally stressing that none of the suggestions concerning SIS could be acted
upon ‘without prior consultation with Mr Stephenson, or without the full
concurrence of his chief [Menzies]’, Fleming was their sole originator. He
particularly mooted the possibility that a ‘suitable representative of the US SIS
should be sent to London forthwith for discussions with CSS London, and it will
probably be necessary to form a small US SIS mission in London’.7 Stephenson
denied in 1969 that Fleming had had anything to do with the idea of an American
intelligence organization, calling the portrait in Donald McLachlan’s Room 398
(which reproduces portions of the Fleming memo without archival source) ‘a
pack of nonsense’. He further claimed that Dick Ellis of BSC could confirm that
‘Godfrey would have been “horrified” at the thought of Fleming being so
engaged’, and that Ellis himself was a key source on the establishing of US
intelligence.9 Ellis’s citation for the US Legion of Merit, however, clearly states
that it was only during the period from 1 January 1942 to early 1943 that Ellis
served as BSC-COI liaison, assisting in the ‘firm establishment and growth of
the Coordinator of Information’, and ‘in laying the foundation for an American
counterpart’ of SIS.10
In a report on his observations of American intelligence efforts at that time,
Godfrey offered more detail on the specifics of British influence in the creation of
COI:
The overall agenda and intent of British officialdom is clear: cultivate Donovan,
and get the Americans to establish some sort of intelligence organ as a first step
toward a complete mobilization of American resources ‘in the common cause’.
Stephenson was just one of a number of British contacts designed to point
Donovan in the right direction. British Naval Intelligence was certainly another
key player, being particularly instrumental in helping to define the necessities of
an American intelligence service with the vital attribute of working in
partnership with its British counterpart through a mission in London. Once COI
was formed on 11 July 1941, Stephenson and BSC then played a substantive role
in developing the specific contacts required by the Americans for creating their
unit from scratch.12
Donovan’s 10 June 1941 ‘Memorandum of Establishment of Service of
Strategic Information’ indirectly referred to by Godfrey thus bears the hallmarks
of British guidance flavoured with Donovan’s own proposals born of enthusiastic
brainstorming rather than experience. The memo lectures the reader at the
beginning that ‘[s]trategy, without information upon which it can rely, is
helpless. Likewise, information is useless unless it is intelligently directed to the
strategic purpose.’ It goes on to state that the US lacked a service for collecting
and analysing strategic information. With much relevant data scattered
throughout the government, Donovan argued that it was imperative that some
organization be formed to collect (‘at home and abroad’), collate, analyse
expertly, and disseminate such information. He also stressed the idea of the
proposed organization participating in ‘psychological warfare’ in close
connection with intelligence. This body would be directed by a Coordinator of
Information answering directly to the President as Commander-in-Chief to aid
him in his military and operational decisions.13
The memo explicitly stressed the need for an information conduit direct to the
President embodying the means for gathering the requisite data overseas, and
directing its efforts to the obvious hostile target, all under the supervision of
Britain’s star pupil in these matters. It was nevertheless long on what was needed,
and a little vague on how exactly the mechanics of such an organization could be
mobilized and made to function. COI was intended chiefly as a rough
counterpart to the BSC in that it was orientated toward both secret intelligence
and ‘coordination’. The organization would accordingly grow along the
following haphazard lines during 1941–43: COI’s initial priorities upon its
establishment on 11 July 1941 involved nailing down spheres of operation and
securing sufficient budgetary funding. Donovan hoped to match a strong research
and analytical component with branches devoted to procuring intelligence (SA/B),
and executing subversive activities (SA/G, later SA/H). Establishing these
THE GENESIS OF OSS/LONDON 45
his task was to transmit ‘a balanced picture of the British viewpoint’.18 At this
stage Whitney and his propaganda colleague, Robert Sherwood, inspected all
relevant British installations (SOE, SIS, political warfare, MOI, and MEW). In
doing so they were acting in the capacity of general observers and had no
particular liaison purpose in mind. Their intent was to gain some idea of how the
British were fighting the irregular conflict of psychological warfare, secret
intelligence, and sabotage.19 These British organizations also served as direct
sources of information. ‘Liaison contracts’ were then established with the
individual British agencies for the exchange of information after the timely
arrival of a staff for Whitney the day following the Japanese attack on Pearl
Harbor.20
This was obviously precisely what the British had in mind for COI.
Particularly noteworthy is COI/London’s role at this time as the foremost contact
point with the British regarding propaganda, psychological war-fare,
intelligence, and sabotage. COI/London was the most critical pathway for
creating formal links through which hard information from British intelligence
services was passed. One specific example of intelligence passed to COI/London
involves the JIC decision to pass on to Donovan’s ‘representative in London’
certain JIC papers concurrently circulated to the American military (see also the
recollections of W.H. Shepardson in Chapter 3, p. 75). BSC, on the other hand,
served mostly as a courier service passing reports which had already been
selected and cleared by SIS in London.21 An 18 November 1941 memo from Ismay
to Churchill specifically stated that ‘it was hoped that the London Representative
might particularly reflect and emphasize the British viewpoint’.22 Among the
various British agencies, the Political Warfare Executive proved most helpful
and prodigious in supplying information to Whitney and his associates, and SOE
enthusiastically sought out COI/London as an ally.23 The major complication
involved the precise status of Whitney and COI regarding intelligence work and
relations with SIS. Whitney discussed this matter with Churchill on 25
November, stressing that his function was one of coordinating information, not
executing intelligence operations. Churchill replied that he agreed with COI/
London’s view that ‘there was a gap here which could usefully be filled between
high official channels…conducted by himself and the many lower channels…
conducted by the collaborating agencies’. Whitney was then advised by the PM
to deal through his assistants, Ismay for the military, and Desmond Morton on
civil matters.24 A major snag in this arrangement involved the dearth of a
suitable COI official to nurture links with SIS. The man originally selected for
the job was R.M.J.Fellner. While he was successful in correctly identifying the
willingness of Menzies and SIS to create an arrangement with COI/London,
Fellner blundered by misunderstanding, or perhaps misrepresenting, SIS views
on the geographical scope of US intelligence operations in Europe. He further
presented a laughable impression to the British due to his being ‘frightened and
jittery for fear that he would be shot or kidnapped by the Germans between the
airport and the American Legation’ while visiting neutral Lisbon. An unamused
THE GENESIS OF OSS/LONDON 47
the service. This nicety would remain an essential stumbling block in the OSS
drive to establish itself.38
The experience throughout 1943 of what was now OSS/London, with Whitney
replaced by William Phillips in July, bore this out. As corroborated in the
Director’s Office War Diary, these directives concerning operations in the
European Theater of Operations (ETO) ‘were valid for OSS/London only in that
they described the Washington, or main, section of the Office of Strategic
Services’. Their relevance to the overseas missions ‘was not explicitly apparent’,
since they were not directly subordinate to the JCS. They were instead
answerable ‘to a two-fold intermediary authority, the Director OSS on one hand,
and the Theater Commander on the other’. This undeniably complicated OSS/
London’s duties (now defined primarily as gathering strategic intelligence for the
JCS) since the Theater Command in London had its own ideas about the scope of
OSS activities. The Theater Commander believed that OSS/London should be
limited to acting as a section of US Army intelligence (G-2) in London. This held
true for both General Frank M. Andrews, killed in a May 1943 plane crash, and
his replacement as Commanding General, US Army European Theater of
Operations (CG, ETOUSA), General J.L.Devers.39
General Devers in particular showed a distinct inclination to accept the myth of
British intelligence invincibility to the point of supporting the British
organizations over OSS. OSS/London’s new mission head, David Bruce,
indicated in his correspondence that Devers was impressed with British
intelligence, and consequently ‘somewhat apprehensive of the development of
OSS intelligence lest it should jeopardize the British system’. This in turn
reflected ‘how often Americans new to London’ easily presumed ‘the adequacy
and competence of things British’.40 The American general’s attitude soon
complicated OSS-SIS negotiations for joint operations, code-named SUSSEX
(see Chapter 3). When the American Assistant Chief of Staff, G-2 in London
indicated that OSS should expedite its ‘detailed arrangements’ with SIS, he was
told on 2 August that OSS had been ‘informed by the British that they would
prefer to suspend further discussions until the Office of Strategic Services shall
have been given official authorization by the Theater Commander to execute the
project with British SIS’.41
The very day that this memorandum was being written, the OSS Director met
with Menzies to obtain the good word of SIS in his battle to convince the
American Theater Commander of the utility of OSS secret intelligence. Donovan
detailed a meeting held with Devers the preceding day in which Devers had
stated that SIS had complained about the ‘slick’ and underhanded methods of
OSS, and about their breaking of agreements. Donovan earnestly denied these
charges to Menzies, and said that ‘it is inconceivable that anyone from your
organization could have undertaken to speak for you in this manner. If anyone
has done so we can only look to you as the responsible head to deal with it.’
Donovan’s memorandum to this effect had been drafted ‘without address or
signature so that Sir Stewart could discuss it with Sir Claude Dansey’,
52 AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON
presumably the suspected culprit. Menzies then ‘agreed to go and clear the
matter with General Devers’.42 Whether by coincidence or by way of
punishment, Dansey was in fact relieved as Chief Deputy Director of SIS soon
after this meeting, and replaced by General James Marshall-Cornwall. SI/London
later described Dansey as a ‘man of vast experience in secret intelligence work, a
stalwart defender of the British imperial interest, a sharp and skillful negotiator,
and, in his fashion, a genial friend of SI officers’ who had ‘nevertheless been an
“obstructionist” in a number of matters which [SI had] sought to achieve’.43
Menzies’s support was critical in light of the American Joint Chiefs of Staff
enquiry to Devers on 14 July as to the utility of OSS in the theatre, and since the
JCS ordered Devers to solicit the views of the British Chiefs of Staff on the
matter. The COS replied, after consultation with ‘C’, that they supported a role
for OSS in secret intelligence provided that it was fully coordinated with the
British and French services (i.e., according to the terms of SUSSEX); and that
counter-intelligence operations be coordinated in London by SIS, all without
precluding the theatre commander from tasking OSS as desired, aircraft
availability permitting.44 With this qualified British support of OSS, Devers
reported to the JCS that ‘[i]t [was] most desirable that OSS be developed to its
fullest capacity. This [could not] be done, however, without the complete
integration of all OSS activities with similar activities of the British SIS and SOE,
and for this purpose OSS [London] should have direct contact with those
agencies’ for operational planning.45 This development saved OSS/London from
being gutted by its own high command, but it moved David Bruce to compose a
rather bitter letter to Washington on 18 September:
You will, before this, have read a copy of the reply of the British Chiefs of
Staff to the JCS letter of July 14th to General Devers. To those in OSS,
Washington, who seem to have a feeling that the OSS Mission in London
is somewhat prone to allow its independence to be fettered by SIS and
SOE, this communication from the British Chiefs of Staff should afford
interesting food for reflection. After having our operations here submitted
to the closest scrutiny by the American Theater Commander who sought the
opinion of some of our British colleagues concerning them, it became
necessary as a result of the request by the American Joint Chiefs of Staff to
the British Chiefs of Staff for the opinion of the latter upon our functions,
for us to go hat-in-hand to Broadway and Baker Street [the SIS and SOE
HQs] and ask them to be as kind as possible to us in whatever answer they
made to the questions addressed to them by the British Chiefs of Staff. On
top of a performance such as this it seems to me sometimes remarkable
that we enjoy any independence whatever; in fact to date we have obtained
our strongest support, not from any American authority, but from our
English competitors, which is a sad and undeniable fact.46
THE GENESIS OF OSS/LONDON 53
This incident is significant since only at this point (autumn 1943) could OSS/
London be said to have acquired the authority to function as the primary US
intelligence service in the ETO, with the correlative bureaucratic security to
convince the British that OSS was in the intelligence field for the duration.
Equally noteworthy is that if SIS had been motivated simply by a petty desire to
cripple OSS, they had ample opportunity to do so during summer 1943. That
they did not so ruin the Americans is a testament to their willingness to forge a
partnership, provided OSS had the backing of the American authorities—to
cooperate without such assurances risked a colossal waste of time and precious
effort by SIS. The various organs of British intelligence had accordingly been
sufficiently impressed with the potential and capacity for effectiveness
demonstrated by the various branches of OSS (albeit often for their own reasons)
to marshal this necessary recognition and acceptance of OSS by the American
military.47
With the recognition and support of the Anglo-American military leadership,
and an understanding with its own theatre command, OSS/London could then fit
itself into the strategic and operational agendas of the Allies. The Anglo-
American intelligence relationship was thus, by the autumn of 1943, finally
progressing beyond the initial stages of cultivation and subtle exploitation in the
name of British survival to the point of establishing a truly functioning
partnership. OSS as a whole benefited from this recognition since it reflected a
real accomplishment and contribution to the US war effort, and a demonstration
of confidence in the potential of the Donovan organization to function as
advertised.
It remained to be proved, though, just how effective the theory of a single all-
encompassing clandestine service could be in practice. OSS/London certainly
owed its survival to the good offices of its British colleagues; but the fragmented
structure of British intelligence was another consequence of the British link that
had already made itself felt. The form and preoccupations of the British
intelligence services effectively moulded OSS in their own collective image. The
head of American Military Intelligence, Major-General George Strong, once
stated to an OSS representative that ‘he did not understand the reason for the
wide divorcement between SO and SI’. It was pointed out to him that ‘the
apparent [sic] impression that there was a divorcement was based on the
relationship, or lack of relationship, between the British organizations, SOE and
SIS’.48
This insight obviously applies in equal measure to British intelligence since it
served as the blueprint for the reality of OSS. Whatever the mythical ideal of
OSS as the origin of centralized intelligence, it was undoubtedly the British
intelligence apparatus which determined the operating method of OSS/London.
The R&A branch War Diary reveals the precise method by which the Americans
had to establish links with the British. While ostensibly an organization
combining all intelligence functions—SI, SO, R&A—the reality was that the
‘most unfortunate feature of this early period in the history of the London office
54 AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON
is the fact that these branches [SI and SO], certainly in relation to R&A, were
wholly unintegrated’. The R&A/London Branch Head, Allan Evans, had not
even been briefed on the existence of SO before arriving in London. The overall
effect was to ensure that the ‘conditions within the London office were
essentially those of a free-for-all pioneering and expansion’.
[D]efinite rules of the game existed, and in the course of time careful
account had to be taken of them. The situation which confronted the British
was difficult, for strange American agencies were pouring into London and
setting up offices, and all trying to spread their contacts as wide as
possible. In short, the same free-for-all existed outside the limits of OSS as
existed within it.
Amidst this chaotic situation every British office of importance made an
effort to distinguish the one American agency which most closely
corresponded to its own function, and to establish more or less exclusive
relations with that agency.49
Since there was no single official coordinating British intelligence authority for
OSS/London to deal with, this branch independence manifested itself in the
distinct relationships arranged by the OSS components with the disparate organs
of British intelligence. The SO branch was thus moved to establish its own
direct, formal agreement with SOE in June 1942 outlining the extent of
American and British spheres of responsibility for sabotage and resistance (or
‘executive’) operations (see Chapter 3).51 The R&A War Diary commented that
SO/London’s ‘preoccupation with the British was especially intense—indeed
that branch in London operated so closely with the highly elaborate British SOE
organization as hardly to need any further auxiliary services on its own
accountt’.52
The SI branch’s situation paralleled that of SO in this respect. It eventually
forged a relationship with its opposite number, SIS, which for all practical
purposes was stronger than any bond it had with the rest of OSS/London for
most of the war (see Chapter 3). This partnership was summarized in a memo
outlining the basis for recommending Menzies for a US decoration:
SI was not wholly content, however. The branch long harboured the belief that
SIS was seeking to frustrate the development of an independent American secret
service in Europe. During an April 1943 meeting in London to discuss the
creation of an SI operational base, it was argued that
SO was shortly going to have men in the field working with SOE but SI
was in a different position than SIS, as SIS was a career organization and
would not or could not afford to permit SI to develop lines that might
jeopardise their own…SIS was jealous of its training program, considered
it one of its greatest secrets and SI could not hope to have their cooperation.54
Whatever the Americans’ perceptions, the reality was more subtle and complex
than they realized. SIS was itself in the position of fighting for its bureaucratic
56 AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON
life—of trying to survive the war as an intact entity. It was not in any shape to
reveal cavalierly its methods and assets to just any group of possibly transient
Americans. As suggested earlier, before SIS was going to bare itself to any part
of OSS, it needed some proof that OSS was there to stay, and that the effort and
cost of forging a working relationship with SI would be justified in terms of
successful secret intelligence operations which would reflect well on SIS. Any
reticence on the part of SIS was therefore not due merely to pique or jealousy,
however frustrating the SIS attitude may have seemed to outside observers (a
further consideration was the distinction between the attitude of particular SIS
officers, as opposed to the service itself, see Chapter 3).
The finer points of the SIS attitude are born out in the documentation. Some
time in the early days of OSS/London, an OSS staff member was visited by Sir
William Wiseman, the former SIS liaison officer to the United States during the
First World War.
During the course of the conversation he hinted that there was still a good
deal of uncertainty in official circles here with regard to the Donovan
organization, and in particular with reference to its permanency during the
‘duration’. I said I was very much interested in this impression, and asked
him whether he was referring to the attitude of ‘C’. He said yes, he knew
for a fact that ‘C’ had in his own mind considerable doubts, and he
mentioned also Duff Cooper [overseeing SOE] who was of a similar mind.
He went on to say that ‘C’s’ attitude was partly caused by his
dissatisfaction with the set up of the British agencies having to deal with
intelligence, that he was not in sympathy with the rapid creation of these
agencies, some of which intruded upon the activities of his own
organization. Moreover, he felt that with each new alphabetical creation
the security of the Secret Service was seriously affected. Sir William
thought that gradually the standing of OSS would be clarified and that
everything was going satisfactorily in that direction. He thought that
anything I could say to ‘C’, indicating the President’s backing of OSS,
would be of great value at this time.55
Combined with the role of SIS in the Devers-JCS episode, this insight into the
British reaction to OSS shows how the British Secret Service was fundamentally
supportive of its American counterpart, although the functioning of British, and
therefore Allied, intelligence necessarily entrenched the reality of fragmentation
and often debilitating institutional isolation.
All of the attempts at fashioning some sort of centralized approach to
intelligence management which emanated from the British, and the centralization
hopefully embodied in the organizational flow-charts of OSS, were thus no
match for the simple reality of fragmented allied intelligence coordination.
Neither the old hands in the British services, nor the new boys in OSS, could be
immune to that defining factor in the Allied intelligence alliance during the
THE GENESIS OF OSS/LONDON 57
Second World War. While it might conceivably be argued that modern American
intelligence services have uniformly and typically tended toward fragmentation
of their own accord during the twentieth century, it cannot be seriously posited
that OSS/London might well have evolved as it actually did regardless of the
British dimension to its experience. OSS was by definition established as a
unique entity, deliberately embodying the principle of centralization in direct
contrast to both British and past American experience. The establishment of
component branches as part of a single intelligence agency rather than of fully
independent services was the defining, if theoretical, characteristic of COI and
OSS.56 It could also be argued on the basis of Graham Allison’s analysis of
government organizations during the Cuban Missile Crisis that government is a
‘conglomeration of semi-feudal, loosely allied organizations, each with a
substantial life of its own’. These fiefdoms accordingly eschew homogenous aims,
reflecting instead an inherent drive toward competitive bureaucratic politics
dominated by parochial priorities and perceptions, rival goals and interests, and
clashing stakes and stands.57 This model is not particularly applicable to OSS/
London, though. The very homogeneity and centralized authority within COI/
OSS was, in the first place, explicitly expected to avoid just that problem as
compared with the rest of the US government. The role of extra-governmental
influences must also be accounted for. The simple reality of OSS/London’s
position relative to the US military, and to the firmly entrenched British system,
combined to break down the structural innovation of OSS in the European
theatre. All of the ensuing developments and experiences of OSS/London in
relation to its British counterparts were destined to bear the imprint of this reality,
and its component branches would accordingly be required to carve their own
separate niches within the context of the Allied war effort in Europe.
NOTES
nom de guerre was ‘Little Bill’ to Donovan’s ‘Big Bill’—he was never ‘a man
called INTREPID’- see Hyde, Quiet, p. 5; see also David Stafford, Camp X
(Toronto: General Paperbacks, 1987), pp. 15, 25–7, 279, and the final two
unnumbered pages of the Postscript.
4. See B.F.Smith, Shadow, pp. 21–3; Andrew, ‘Churchill’, pp. 191–2; Troy,
Donovan, p. 34; Troy, Bill, passim; Dunlop, Donovan, p. 203; Whiting, Battle, pp.
111–12; Patrick Beesly, Very Special Admiral: The Life of Admiral J.H.Godfrey,
CB (London: Hamish Hamilton, 1980), pp. 176–85; Donald McLachlan, Room 39:
Naval Intelligence in Action, 1939–45 (London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1968),
pp. 224, 228; Mark M. Lowenthal, ‘INTREPID and the History of World War II’,
Military Affairs 41, 2 (April 1977), pp. 88–9; David Stafford, ‘“Intrepid”: Myth and
Reality’, Journal of Contemporary History 22, 2 (April 1987), pp. 306, 315;
Stafford, X, pp. 15–17, and Postscript; Timothy J.Naftali, ‘Intrepid’s Last
Deception: Documenting the Career of Sir William Stephenson’, Intelligence and
National Security 8, 3 (July 1993), especially pp. 75–6, 79, 82, 87; John Bryden,
Best Kept Secret: Canadian Secret Intelligence in the Second World War (Toronto:
Lester Publishing, 1993), pp. 56–7, 67–9, 81, 84–5, 107–8, 113, 116, 271–2, 335;
cf. Hyde, Quiet, pp. 151–6, Dunlop, Donovan, pp. 213, 280–1, and Whiting, Battle,
pp. 111–12; cf. also the interview with Stephenson conducted by Thomas F.Troy in
1969, Troy to Director of Training, CIA, 13 March 1969, Folder 66, Box 8, and
Donovan’s comments on Conyers Read to Donovan, 12 February 1944, ‘Attached
British Manuscript’, Folder 4, Box 1, both in the Thomas Troy Papers, RG 263,
NARA.
5. Cf. J.H.Godfrey, The Naval Memoirs of Admiral J.H.Godfrey, Vol. V, 1939–1942,
Part I: Naval Intelligence Division’, Chapter XX, McLachlan-Beesly Papers,
Churchill Archives Centre (CAC), Churchill College, Cambridge; Hyde, Quiet, pp.
36–8, and Paul Kramer, ‘Nelson Rockefeller and British Security Coordination’,
Journal of Contemporary History 16, 1 (January 1981), pp. 75, 78; see B.F.Smith,
Shadow, pp. 55–8, 62–3; James Leutze (ed.) The London Journal of General
Raymond E. Lee, 1940–1941 (Boston: Little, Brown, 1971), p. 21; David
E.Koskoff, Joseph P. Kennedy: A Life and Times (Englewood Cliffs: Prentice-Hall,
1974), p. 255, n. 123; regarding the influences on Roosevelt concerning Britain, see
David G.Haglund, ‘George C.Marshall and the Question of Military aid to
England, May–June 1940’, in Walter Laqueur (ed.), The Second World War:
Essays in Military and Political History (London: SAGE Publications, 1982), pp.
143–4, 154–5, and Mark M. Lowenthal, ‘Roosevelt and the Coming of the War:
The Search for United States Policy, 1937–42’, in Laqueur (ed.), Second World War,
pp. 60, 66, 69–71; Mark L. Chadwin, The Hawks of World War II (Chapel Hill:
University of North Carolina Press, 1968), pp. 92–3, 125–6; Lewin, Warlord, p.
50n; see also Halifax to Eden, c. 5 December 1940, A4925/4925/45 (1); Archibald
Sinclair to Halifax, 7 December 1940, A5059/4925/45 (2), both in FO 371/24263;
Minute by Sir D.Scott, 27 February 1941; and Alexander Cadogan to PM, 1 March
1941, both in A1 154/183/45, FO 371/26194, Cadogan noting that ‘although we
have every reason to think that he enjoys the latter’s [i.e., FDR’s] confidence, he is
not one of his intimate associates’; all in PRO; cf. M.R.D.Foot, SOE: An outline
history of the Special Operations Executive, 1940–46 (London: BBC, 1984), p. 150;
see also Danchev (ed.), Diaries of Vivian Dykes, pp. 21–4.
THE GENESIS OF OSS/LONDON 59
Folder 16, Box 73, Entry 99; SA stood for Special Activities, B and G for the
branch heads, Bruce and Goodfellow (H is unknown); see Bruce to Donovan, 16
March 1942 on SA/B designation, Folder 44, Box 8, Entry 92; all in RG 226,
NARA; see also Jakub, Spies, pp. 22–47.
15. B.F.Smith, Shadow, pp. 140–254; Max Corvo, The OSS in Italy, 1942–1945: A
Personal Memoir (New York: Praeger, 1990), pp. 32–272; Jakub, Spies, pp. 48–
109.
16. Robert A.Solborg to Donovan, 6 October 1941, Folder 38, Box 1, Entry 92, RG
226, NARA.
17. Roosevelt to Churchill, 24 October 1941, Folder 489, Box 48, Entry 110, RG 226,
NARA; see also Warren F.Kimball (ed.), Churchill and Roosevelt: The Complete
Correspondence, Vol. I: Alliance Emerging, October 1933–November 1942
(Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1984), p. 263.
18. Whitney to Donovan, 19 November 1941, with enclosure Ismay to PM, 18
November 1941, Folder 8, Box 70, Entry 99, RG 226; Donovan to JCS 5 August
1942, Folder 15, Box 73, Entry 99 also mentions the London mission’s liaison
function; despite what he put on paper, Ismay had, in reality, been evidently
‘perplexed as regards the true object of Whitney’s visit’—see the cable, no author,
no recipient, 23 November 1941, Folder 20, Box 2, Troy Papers, RG 263; all in
NARA.
19. Interview with Mr William Dwight Whitney, London, 6 June 1945, Folder 31, Box
2, Entry 147, RG 226, NARA.
20. Ibid.; see also Conyers Read History, Part II, ‘The Office of the Coordinator
of Information’, pp. 55–6, Folder 7, Box 70, Entry 99, RG 226, NARA.
21. See the Whitney interview; JIC decision in JIC (41) 35th Mtg, 2 December 1941,
Minute No. 6, CAB 81/88, PRO; ‘War Diary, SI Branch, OSS/London, Vol. 1,
Introductory Survey’, pp. 2–4, 6, in Bradley F.Smith (ed.) Covert Warfare, Vol. 2:
The Spy Factory and Secret Intelligence (New York: Garland, 1989), also
demonstrates the intelligence-conduit role of SI, then named SA/B branch; see also
H.Montgomery Hyde, Secret Intelligence Agent (London: Constable, 1982), p.
255.
22. Ismay to Churchill, 18 November 1941, Folder 8, Box 70, Entry 99, RG 226; see
also Donovan to Churchill, 27 October 1941, Folder 20, Box 2, Troy Papers, RG
263; both in NARA.
23. E.L.Taylor to William Whitney, 12 November 1941, Folder 20, Box 2, Troy
Papers, RG 263, NARA.
24. Whitney to Donovan, 25 November 1941—Ismay and Morton were to show
Whitney papers ‘in their discretion’; in Folder 20, Box 2, Troy Papers, RG 263,
NARA.
25. Whitney to Donovan, 2 December 1941, Folder 20, Box 2, Troy Papers, RG 263;
re: Fellner’s early work, Fellner to Donovan, 2 November 1941 and Fellner to
Donovan, 5 November 1941, both in Folder 8, Box 70, Entry 99, RG 226; all in
NARA.
26. Whitney to Donovan, 21 November 1941 (with Phillips’s denial), Folder 20, Box
2, Troy Papers, RG 263, NARA; Phillips’s recollection in Dunlop, Donovan, p.
357.
THE GENESIS OF OSS/LONDON 61
27. Letter, Whitney to Donovan, 2 December 1941; typescript (of a cable?), Whitney to
Donovan, 2 December 1941, both in Folder 20, Box 2, Troy Papers, RG 263; see
also Whitney interview, Folder 31, Box 2, Entry 147, RG 226; all in NARA.
28. On Morton enquiry, see the cable, for Taylor from Winner, 2 January 1942; on
Whitney’s reaction, Whitney to Donovan, 5 January 1942; Whitney to Donovan, 6
January 1942, Folder 20, Box 2, Troy Papers, RG 263, NARA.
29. Whitney to Donovan, 8 January 1942, Folder 20, Box 2, Troy Papers, RG 263,
NARA.
30. Whitney to Donovan, 8 January 1942; see Whitney’s further memos exploring the
possibility of arranging an alliance with the State Department in the handwritten
Whitney to Donovan, 15 January 1942; Whitney to Donovan, ‘Position of British
Foreign Office Illustrating Our Relations with State Dept.’, 15 January 1942;
Whitney to Donovan, ‘State Department/Joint Intelligence’, 17 January 1942; all in
Folder 20, Box 2, Troy Papers, RG 263, NARA.
31. Donovan for the President, 21 February 1942, frames 578–82, Reel 22, Entry 162,
RG 226, NARA.
32. For Roosevelt’s response, see ibid., frame 578; for Marshall’s response, see Folder
21, Box 2, Troy Papers, RG 263; the Secretary of War, Henry Stimson, called the
proposal ‘mostly wild’—see B.F.Smith, Shadow, p. 126; see also Kenneth Young
(ed.) The Diaries of Sir Robert Bruce Lockhart, Vol. II: 1939–1965 (London:
Macmillan, 1980), p. 175, with Lockhart’s 17 July 1942 entry: ‘according to
Desmond Morton, who quotes [Ambassador Drexel] Biddle as his authority, the
President likes Colonel Donovan, says he must be helped down, but that he is no
organiser and is a child in political matters’.
33. Notes by Dick Ellis, McLachlan-Beesly Papers, 6/5, CAC.
34. See ‘History of OSS, Vol. II’, pp. 3, 22–3, Entry 99, RG 226, NARA; Troy,
Donovan, pp. 129–53.
35. See R.H.Smith, OSS, pp. 163–203; B.F.Smith, Shadow, pp. 175–6, 184–7, 202–11,
248, 252–3; on SI/SO activities, see Jakub, Spies, pp. 53–66.
36. R.H.Smith, OSS, pp. 163–203; B.F.Smith, Shadow, pp. 175–6, 184–7, 202–11,
252–3.
37. General Order No. 9 is found throughout the OSS archive, e.g., Folder 489, Box
48, Entry 110, RG 226, NARA.
38. ‘History of OSS, IF, pp. 3, 22–3, Entry 99, RG 226, NARA; Vivian Dykes of the
British Staff Mission in Washington noted on 4 July 1942, that Donovan’s ideas
were ‘a bit too big’ to suit his new [JCS] masters’—Danchev (ed.), Diary of Vivian
Dykes, p. 165.
39. ‘War Diary, Director’s Office, OSS/London, Preamble to January 1944, Part IF,
pp. 18–19, Folder 38, Box 3, Entry 147; ‘Office of Strategic Services—London’
(mission statement), 24 June 1942, Folder 8, Box 73, Entry 92; Robert Cresswell to
Whitney, 2 June 1943, Folder 22, Box 325, Entry 92, all in RG 226, NARA.
40. These observations with reference to Bruce’s correspondence are from Hugh R.
Wilson to Donovan, 19 June 1943, Folder 24, Box 334, Entry 92, RG 226, NARA.
41. David Bruce to Brig.-Gen. J.C.Crockett, 2 August 1943, Folder 535, Box 238,
Entry 190; see also Bruce to G.Edward Buxton, 19 June 1943, Folder 39, Box 24,
Entry 92; both in RG 226, NARA; see also Stewart Alsop and Thomas Braden, Sub
Rosa: The OSS and American Espionage (New York: Harcourt, Brace and World,
1964), pp. 31–2.
62 AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON
42. Memorandum of Meeting, 2 August 1943, with letter, Donovan to Menzies, 31 July
1943, in Folder 33, Box 4, Troy Papers, RG 263, NARA.
43. SI Branch Semi-Monthly Report #15, W.P.Maddox to Bruce, 15 September 1943,
in Folder 1, Box 1, Entry 99, RG 226, NARA; see also Cecil, ‘“C’s”’, p. 180.
44. ‘Proposed Operations by OSS in the European Theater: Memorandum by the
Representatives of the British Chiefs of Staff, n.d. (c. July 1943), Folder 376, Box
227; see also CCS 449, 28 December 1943, frame 1129, and CCS 449/1, 5 April
1944, frame 1130, Reel 4, Entry 190; both in RG 226, NARA.
45. Devers to JCS, 6 August 1943, Folder 406, Box 229, Entry 190, RG 226, NARA.
46. Bruce to G.Edward Buxton, 18 September 1943, Folder 39, Box 24, Entry 92, RG
226, NARA; see also Young (ed.), Diaries of Robert Bruce Lockhart, p. 238, with
Robert Bruce Lockhart’s prescient 31 May 1943 diary entry stating that OSS ‘is
making headway all the time…and is backed by the army chiefs’.
47. Cf. Jakub, Spies, pp. 106–7
48. C.S.Vanderblue to Bruce, 14 August 1943, Folder 429, Box 231, Entry 190, RG
226, NARA.
49. ‘War Diary, R&A Branch, OSS/London, Vol. 1, Early History’, pp. 10, 12, 16, 87,
Reel 3, Entry 91, both in RG 226, NARA; West, Secret War, p. 218, understands
the phenomenon, if not its cause; cf. W.T.M.Beale to Bruce and Wilson, 9
September 1942 on the need for greater cooperation between SA/B (later SI) and
SA/H (formerly SA/G, later SO) in Folder 18, Box 129, Entry 92, RG 226, NARA.
50. Lord to Director, OSS, with ‘Hold this for me’ written on it in Donovan’s hand, 13
September 1945, Folder 46b (#1), Box 11, Entry 99, RG 226, NARA.
51. Sir Charles Hambro (‘CD’) to Donovan, 9 September 1942, Folder 196, Box 344,
Entry 190, RG 226, NARA.
52. ‘War Diary, R&A, 1’, p. 87.
53. Ernest Brooks, Jr to Mr Nichols, 18 April 1945, Folder 88, Box 300, Entry 190, RG
226, NARA.
54. ‘Meeting of London Branch SI to consider operational base in London’, 23 April
1943, Folder 424, Box 319, Entry 190, RG 226, NARA.
55. Minute, n.d., n.a., presumably by William Phillips, c. early to mid-1943, Folder
538, Box 238, Entry 190, RG 226, NARA; see also Young (ed.), Diary of Robert
Bruce Lockhart, p. 191, with Robert Bruce Lockhart’s report of William
Wiseman’s views on the permanency of OSS propaganda efforts, 27 August 1942;
cf. Robin W.Winks, ‘Getting the Right Stuff: FDR, Donovan, and the Quest for
Professional Intelligence’, in George C.Chalou (ed.) The Secrets War: The Office
of Strategic Services in World War II, (Washington, DC: National Archives and
Records Administration, 1992), pp. 26–7; see also Kermit Roosevelt, War Report of
the OSS (New York: Walker and Company, 1976), pp. 256–7.
56. See Troy, Donovan, pp. 3–21, on pre-OSS American intelligence.
57. Graham T.Allison, Essence of Decision: Explaining the Cuban Missile Crisis
(Boston: Little, Brown and Co., 1971), pp. 67, 144, 146, 166–7.
3
Servants of OVERLORD: SO, SI, and the
Invasion of Europe
London SO presence to prepare for future operations with the US military, and
sending ‘embryonic’ forces to potential invasion targets. It was accordingly
agreed that since SOE was already so engaged, it was reasonable in the spirit of
avoiding duplication and misunderstandings that any SO activity controlled from
London (not Washington) would for the time being fall under SOE direction and
supervision. Regional arrangements defining exclusive or joint SO or SOE work
would cover those countries and areas not falling within the ‘invasion sphere’,
and thus not within any operational military command. Both Donovan and
SOE’s Head (‘CD’), Sir Charles Hambro, initialled the agreements, and the
American JCS, British COS, and Foreign Office all approved them by the end of
August 1942.7
SO and SOE ostensibly carved up their own operational niches with this
‘spheres’ agreement, but in practice it gave approval for SO/ London’s full
collaboration with SOE concerning the exchange of information, intelligence,
and training methods, thereby conferring considerable legitimacy to SO’s
potential. It also placed operational execution firmly within the military
leadership’s purview, as SO would join SOE to serve military plans and
priorities. Phillips actually emphasized this aspect of SOE’s relationship to the
British High Command. He noted the implicit suggestion that OSS develop a
similar relationship, thereby putting SO on a more ‘equal footing’ with SOE, and
permitting SO-SOE collaboration ‘on any future large-scale operations’.8
David Bruce found upon relieving Phillips and arriving in London in February
1943 that actually creating such a viable SO operational capa bility necessitated
considerably more effort than merely signing agreements. Bruce began sending
Donovan a series of weekly letters in February describing OSS/London
developments, and his letter of 20 March stressed that the ‘[m]ost important’
current objective involved joining SOE on the ‘ground floor’ with their
JEDBURGH plan, which SOE considered ‘their most useful potential operation’.
Complicating this, however, was the fact that SO was ‘handicapped’ by
inadequate supplies, an as yet unfulfilled need for quality recruits, and
insufficient SO officers, those already in London being described as ‘hard
working but not competent to deal as equals with their opposite numbers—
higher leaders in SOE’.9 He wrote further on 10 April that SO’s basic policy
question centred on whether it ‘should integrate in effect with SOE’, and so be
subordinated to SOE in Europe. Bruce assumed British control over future
military invasion operations, and noted the ‘tendency…not only in the military
but in the civil sphere, (as represented by the Ambassador), to allow the British
to play a predominant part’. It was perhaps largely because of this phenomenon
that Bruce considered the SO-SOE partnership to have its attractions. SO’s
‘integration with them and the advantage of their experience’ would enable
faster development than otherwise possible without SOE. Equally sobering was
that when OSS asked ‘for such facilities as airplanes, we can only describe
hopes; the British can point to visible results, plans in being, and personnel in
great forces’.10
66 SERVANTS OF OVERLORD
Bruce felt moved on 17 April to ‘clarify and amplify’ his previous suggestion
about a ‘complete integration’ of SO with SOE after Donovan responded on 13
April to demand a defence of SO’s independent status as a junior partner with the
British service.11 Bruce in fact believed that accepting British command
authority would enable SO to ‘infiltrate [its] people actually into the various
sections of the SOE organization’. He went on to note that ‘this would give…
[SOE] only ultimate authority for leadership; our men would perform certain
duties under British command, but at the same time maintain their own offices
for purposes of administration and carrying out their other activities’. A further
development concerned revising the SO-SOE agreement. Bruce was ‘about to
receive a memo from the British on a new and shorter form’ of the June 1942
Donovan-‘CD’ spheres agreement since the original had ‘become so overlaid by
various notations and subsequent conversations that it is almost impossible to
decide from the written record where the two organizations stand’. A clearer
understanding with SOE was desired given the prospective creation of a joint
Anglo-American invasion staff with a British head (Major-General Frederick
Morgan) and an American deputy (Brigadier-General Barker). Bruce had already
informed Barker of the SO-SOE arrangement, discovering that Barker knew well
SOE’s Major-General Colin Gubbins (responsible for liaison with SO). Barker
agreed that this was desirable, and felt ‘that SO should concede leadership to
SOE with the understanding that this authority would be revoked if and when
supreme command of an invasion were transferred to American forces’. Barker
further suggested that SO ‘should request permission simultaneously from the
new joint staff for the Jedburgh plan’.12
Notwithstanding the acceptance of SO by the high-ranking officers of what
would become the Chief of Staff to the Supreme Allied Commander (COSSAC),
Bruce’s reliance on SO-SOE integration must also have been affected by the
aforementioned tendency for American officials to defer to British capabilities. It
has been seen earlier how General Devers, commanding US Army forces within
the theatre, was notorious for this propensity. Bruce informed Donovan on 29
May that Devers worried about OSS/London operations ‘tangling with British
arrangements’. Bruce detailed Devers’s intention ‘to adhere strictly to the
Eisenhower policy [as Commanding General, ETOUSA in 1942] of not
conflicting with anything the British do, but to cooperate and use British
facilities’. Bruce understandably found this attitude ‘somewhat disturbing’.13 It
was nevertheless a reality which could not be ignored, particularly as OSS was
designated a fully military detachment subject to military control on 4 June
1943.14
The ensuing drama of OSS/London securing British backing to convince the
JCS and Devers of OSS/London’s utility has already been detailed (see
Chapter 2, pp. 57–9), and the impact of this development on SO’s fortunes was
soon clear. Bruce informed Donovan on 23 August that the Theater Commander
would ‘back up [OSS] on [its] joint operations (Jeds, etc.)’, but perversely
complained that ‘the trouble is that both the theater and the British expect us to
AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON 67
produce 100 French speaking American Army officers out of a hat like so many
rabbits’.15 By 4 September, Bruce was less irked. ‘MIRABILE DICTU! There
seems to have been during the last fortnight a complete change of atmosphere in
our relations with the Theater Commander. We only have to ask for something;
it is granted…[Everything has been approved, everything is smooth.’16
The American military’s support enhanced SO’s ability to function
meaningfully with SOE, particularly as Major-General Gubbins replaced
Hambro within a week of Bruce’s ecstatic letter to Donovan. This ‘shift’ from a
civilian to a military ‘CD’ was taken by Bruce to be consistent with SOE’s
increasing ‘militarization’.17 The most obvious operational rationale for this was
the formulation of the JEDBURGH plan, alluded to above. Named after an abbey
town in the Scottish Borders, this plan was designed to utilize French Resistance
forces to assist in the invasion of Normandy.18 SOE tested the concept of ‘direct
British aid to resistance’ in March 1943 during exercise SPARTAN in western
England. This scenario demonstrated the potential of employing ‘Allied teams to
organize resistance behind the lines’ as coordinated with Army plans by staff
detachments. The exercise’s lessons were discussed over the following two
weeks in meetings between SOE and SO representatives at Norgeby House (across
from SOE’s 64 Baker Street headquarters in London). Their conclusions were
then submitted in a draft memorandum dated 18 March detailing how SOE
cooperation with conventional military forces could complement the invasion of
Europe, which would in turn serve as the basis for subsequent SO-SOE
operational planning. In securing personnel for JEDBURGH, SO/London drafted
another paper stressing the opportunity for ‘a definite American contribution’ to
OVERLORD’s resistance programme. This was submitted to the CG, ETOUSA
on 23 April, with his approval following on 29 August.19
The dual requirements of reaching agreement with SOE on incorporating SO
within its ‘militarized’ OVERLORD plans, and securing the American Theater
Commander’s support of OSS/London in general, thus converged by autumn
1943. This situation was, as might be expected, paralleled in SI. That branch first
discussed the prospect of collaborating with SIS and Free French intelligence in
autumn 1942, but progress on that front had been precluded by the restrictions
placed on OSS/London’s freedom to engage in espionage by the US military.20 SIS
was not prepared to interfere in what it considered a purely American
jurisdictional dispute.21 SI/London was therefore restricted to performing its
original COI function of ‘collection of intelligence through liaison’ with the
British and other allied services, with a complement of two SI officers, Whitney
Shepardson and William Maddox. Shepardson in fact met the British JIC’s
chairman, Victor Cavendish-Bentinck in summer 1942, whereupon Cavendish-
Bentinck ‘in most generous fashion…put before [Shepardson] examples of many
kinds of British SIS intelligence intake and told [Shepardson] that he might
regularly receive any or all of these categories of intelligence’.22
In light of the uncertainty about its own status with the American military,
however, and its own paucity of resources, OSS/London harboured doubts about
68 SERVANTS OF OVERLORD
MI6’s receptivity to a more active operational role for SI. It has been shown
earlier how SIS in fact desired guarantees as to the permanency of OSS before
agreeing to completely joint operations (Chapter 2). SI/London’s head actually
knew in 1942 that the US military’s restrictions on OSS were ‘a mistaken
consideration on their part, inasmuch as British SIS was itself prepared to regard…
[SI] as its “opposite number”’.23 Such matters were further exacerbated by US
military intelligence interference in OSS relationships with exile intelligence
services, and with SI’s receipt of SIS material.24 These facts combined with the
restrictions placed on SI espionage by US military intelligence to make the US
Army G-2 contingent in London potentially responsible for both American
espionage and for working with SIS. The question of OSS status therefore
developed in tandem with the formulation of plans for joint clandestine
operations. By 10 April, Bruce notified Donovan of an SI/London plan
developed by Stacey Lloyd for the infiltration of uni-formed two-man teams to
transmit military intelligence.25 The requirements for staff, training, potential
agents, and more SI personnel to liaise with foreign services were communicated
to Donovan two weeks later, and Bruce assured Donovan on 24 May that the SI-
SIS relationship continued satisfactorily despite OSS/London’s uncertain
position. He further told one OSS/Washington officer that SI/London ‘was in the
best possible standing, thanks to Whitney [Shepardson, presumably] and the
continuation of his work and contacts’.26 The Devers episode then intervened,
with Bruce informing Donovan on 29 May about the Theater Commander’s
deference to British intelligence. This was all the more disheartening as Bruce
outlined in the same letter the encouragement he had received directly from ‘C’
to arrange the assignment of SI officers for ‘staff intelligence and secret
intelligence duties to be trained before invasion’, with SIS providing assistance
to SI groups at Army HQs ‘as long as their presence was desirable’. There was
also a ‘tentative suggestion… by “C” that French operations be conducted jointly
by SIS’ and OSS along with the French. Bruce understandably noted his
unhappiness with the idea of being denied the Theater Commander’s permission
to move along such lines, especially since SIS ‘made it clear that no further
consideration’ could be given to joint operations until OSS/London in fact
obtained ‘the Theater Commander’s official authorization to proceed’. This was
all particularly galling since Bruce was mindful of the need to change over OSS/
London’s functions from liaison to operations, and because effective Broadway-
Si planning for an SIS operation similar to the Lloyd proposal, code-named
SUSSEX, was proceeding smoothly.27 With the successful resolution of OSS/
London’s standing, Bruce was able to inform Donovan on 28 August that the
Theatre Commander’s intelligence staff was ‘disposed to cooperate fully in the
activation of approved SI…plans’, thereby permitting SI to exploit its budding
operational links with SIS.28 A tripartite SUSSEX committee was soon formed
on 4 January 1944 to oversee planning, training, etc., consisting of MI6’s
Commander Kenneth Cohen as chairman, with SI’s Lieutenant-Colonel Francis
P.Miller and a Lieutenant-Colonel from French intelligence.29
AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON 69
Such an artificial distinction could hardly grease the wheels for interbranch
collaboration regarding planning, coordinating field operations, joint liaison with
the military, information exchanges, intelligence sharing, and the economical use
of personnel and resources. The entire prospect of SI/London engaging in
SUSSEX particularly vexed Brewer, who described SI’s intentions as ‘a
thoroughly crack pot action program’ that could interfere with the JEDBURGH
plan, particularly with regard to recruiting wireless operators. Brewer informed
Bruce on 26 April 1943 of his certainty that ‘confusion, wastage of common
resources, etc.’ would result if SI carried on. While Bruce apparently saw
Brewer’s point, he remained ‘fundamentally unsympathetic’ to Brewer’s ‘desire
to curtail the activities of SI which appear[ed] to [Brewer] to be operational
rather than concerned with Intelligence’. Even after meeting with SI officers on
30 April to clarify their operation, Brewer and other SO men still concluded ‘that
SI had completely overstepped themselves and the only excuse for their pursuing
their plan at all was one of politics, namely that by performing this particular
service for the Army, the Army might be more inclined to grant us favors in the
future’.37
This friction contrasted strongly with the apparently warm SO-SOE
relationship as personified by SOE’s liaison officer, who Brewer described as
Brewer further described his SOE counterparts as men who ‘all impressed [him]
as being the highest type of honorable and loyal officers who are playing
absolutely square with [SO] in every particular’, whereas when SO officers were
briefed on North African operations by SOE’s Douglas Dodds-Parker, he
referred to one OSS officer in that theatre as being ‘more an SI than an SO man’,
thus confirming Brewer’s ‘suspicions that he had never really been sold on the
SO gang’.38
Brewer’s observations clearly indicate that SOE-SIS fragmentation affected
the separate planning within OSS for JEDBURGH and SUSSEX. The sabotage
people spoke one another’s language, and saw things in similar terms; likewise
for the intelligence services and their operations. The two groups could only
speak past one another, and this obviated developing a distinctive, unified
American intelligence-sabotage campaign in Europe. Brewer evidently could not
AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON 71
OVERLORD’s successful execution. This objective was the driving force behind
the support given to these plans by General Dwight Eisenhower, appointed in
January 1944 as Supreme Commander, Allied Expeditionary Force. One factor
contributing to Eisenhower getting SOE/SO HQ ‘under his wing’ through its
subordination to the G-3 (Operations) staff of the Supreme Headquarters, Allied
Expeditionary Force (SHAEF, successor to COSSAC), was the question of
America’s relationship with the Free French. Prime Minister Churchill had
proven a strong backer of the French National Committee of Liberation (FNCL),
which Washington officials interpreted as Churchill’s attempt to woo the French
for the post-war political end of securing British influence in non-communist
Europe. When Eisenhower informed the JCS at the end of January 1944 that he
and SHAEF were dependent on SOE for their Resistance policy, he was naturally
moved to see the integrated SO-SOE effort (formalized on 24 January) as a
means of injecting an American component to Resistance support. By 19 April, a
JCS cable informed Eisenhower that ‘an equalization of effort’ in arming the
French was required. SO’s potential to help realize that goal was again
obvious.45 This clearly helped to counter a January 1944 JCS demand that SO/
London work independently of SOE (the British observed in March that the
‘close coordination’ between SO-SOE did not compromise OSS
independence).46
Another reason for Eisenhower to embrace the joint Anglo-American
intelligence/sabotage plans stemmed from their potential utility to the
conventional invasion forces. More bluntly, Eisenhower’s concern for
OVERLORD’s success understandably encouraged a maximum effort of
wholesale rail-cuts beyond the original phased programme of JED-BURGH pre-
invasion sabotage.47 Eisenhower’s recognition that the military would ‘need very
badly the support of the Resistance Groups in France’ also helped to overcome
his reluctance to mix with the FNCL—he would, in fact, ‘deal with any French
body that seem[ed] capable of assisting’ the invasion.48 The work of SO-SOE
through JEDBURGH thus fitted precisely into Eisenhower’s calculations of the
correlation of forces for OVERLORD, grasping as he was for any possible
battlefield advantage available in order to secure his bridgehead. The SUSSEX
plan was also geared toward providing timely tactical intelligence for the armies
which would be at a premium in the effort to survive the inevitable German
counter-attack, let alone to launch an eventual break-out.49
As an integral part of that risky enterprise, the joint SOE/SO Headquarters was
renamed Special Forces Headquarters (SFHQ) on 1 May 1944, with training and
material preparation proceeding at a rapid pace for executing what was originally
conceived as a two-phase plan of sabotage. The first phase would cover the pre-
invasion (or ‘pre-D-Day’) period, as three-man teams consisting of two officers
and a signaller drawn from American, British, and French personnel commenced
dropping by parachute immediately before the scheduled invasion date, and
continuing thereafter. These JEDBURGH teams would organize French
Resistance forces in a general sabotage programme against German military
74 SERVANTS OF OVERLORD
installations. The second (or ‘post-D-Day’) phase would begin with the invasion
itself, when JEDBURGH teams would coordinate the Resistance forces with
allied bombing, attacks against German reserves, and general guerrilla warfare.
As noted above, however, the original phased plan was intensified to concentrate
on attacks against German communications, particularly rail lines, in order to
impede the immediate German reaction to the landings. Throughout these
operations, the JEDBURGH teams would be directed from, and report to, SFHQ,
which was in turn directly controlled under the aegis of SHAEF’s G-3
(Operations) staff, although the French Resistance forces themselves were placed
under the command of the French General Marie-Pierre Koenig by SHAEF on 6
June without consulting SFHQ.50
The first JEDBURGH team dropped into France on the night of 5/6 June, with
a total of six teams in the field by the end of the month. Four of these teams
(FREDERICK, GEORGE, HAMISH and IAN) contained SO personnel.
FREDERICK conducted attacks against enemy communications; HAMISH
interfered with troop movements, and arranged reception of supplies; IAN
likewise interfered with troop movements, but was effectively uncontrolled due
to wireless difficulties; GEORGE was largely thwarted by enemy action, and
compromised by an enemy agent among its Resistance colleagues. From July
through August, these teams primarily engaged in coordinating general Maquis
guerrilla warfare while monitored by Station CHARLES. During the July–
September period, they were joined by additional teams, of which GAVIN,
HORACE, HILARY, GERALD, RONALD, DOUGLAS II, IVOR, ALEC, LEE,
JAMES, ALEXANDER, ANTHONY, and BRUCE contained SO personnel.
These new teams further contributed to the guerrilla campaign by organizing the
Maquis as reconnaissance, holding, and general nuisance forces despite strained
relations with the more action-orientated Special Air Service (SAS) troops, who
also fell into organizing Resistance forces (the SAS were primarily designed as
raiding forces, whose independent OSS counterparts were the OGs, or
Operational Groups). These teams profited from the work of the SO units
attached to the field armies, now renamed SF Detachments. The detachments
engaged in a considerable amount of personal liaison with Resistance groups
encountered by the armies when direction from London proved impracticable.
This, in turn, contributed greatly to the further tactical employment of the
Maquis in support of immediate military operations, and to their provision of
tactical intelligence in the course of their activities. Such support by the SF
Detachments proved so popular with the armies that the OSS officers involved
could not keep up with the demand.51 The JEDBURGH operations thus helped
complicate German attempts to establish set defences against the conventional
military forces in what amounted to a tactical, rather than strategic role. The
entire Resistance effort in turn tended to exhibit potential beyond that expected
before the invasion.
The SUSSEX teams’ experiences also evolved beyond original expectations.
With three-quarters of the SI/London staff concentrating on SUSSEX, this
AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON 75
scheme offered OSS its first real chance at contributing substantively to the
European intelligence war. SUSSEX in its final form envisaged tripartite
cooperation among SIS, SI and BCRA in providing both strategic and tactical
intelligence to the Allied armies for OVER-LORD. This intelligence would be
collected by 96 agents recruited from a common pool of potential agents drawn
from the Free French Army, and dropped into France in two-man teams over the
period 9 April–1 September 1944. Half of these observer-signaller teams would
be dispatched to locations in the US Army’s area of operations, and controlled by
SI through Station VICTOR. These teams would be collectively known as
OSSEX. The remaining teams, code-named BRISSEX, would function in the
British-Canadian 21st Army Group sector, and be controlled by SIS from its own
radio facility in England. SI and SIS would then communicate to SHAEF and the
invasion armies the intelligence messages they received from the field. A
Pathfinder mission was sent to France in February to make advance security
arrangements for the SUSSEX teams in the form of safe landing fields, safe
houses and reception committees. By D-Day, there were seven each of the
BRISSEX and OSSEX teams in the field providing messages on German
military installations and movements. All of their messages were received by the
respective SIS and SI radio stations, passed to the respective SIS or SI
Operations Rooms, translated and processed (in SI, by their Reports Division),
and disseminated to SHAEF and the SI Field Detachments in the American sector.
The messages were then passed on to the relevant field army intelligence staffs;
copies of each message were subsequently sent by the receiving service (SI or
SIS) to its Anglo-French or Franco-American colleagues.52
The OSSEX teams’ most notable coup immediately before and after D-Day
involved tracking the Panzer Lehr Division’s movements. By the end of June, 87
reports had been received from the 12 OSSEX teams in contact with Station
VICTOR or with monitoring aircraft; 22 messages were disseminated by
BRISSEX teams. Eight further OSSEX teams were dropped during July,
resulting in 219 messages containing intelligence.53 SI/London disseminations of
intelligence to SHAEF graded for reliability indicate a one or two day delay in
getting OSSEX material to SHAEF throughout June–August 1944, with most
OSSEX messages graded ‘B-2’, as compared to ‘B-3’ for material of SFHQ
origin.54 This intelligence effort was well regarded in the field by the 1st US
Army, and received an equally positive reception from SHAEF.55 Major-General
K.W.D.Strong stated after the war that as SHAEF G-2, secret agents were one of
his main sources as his staff made the transition from focusing on strategic
intelligence to procuring tactical intelligence. His best sources of tactical
intelligence were air reconnaissance supplemented through ‘tie-ins with OSS,
SIS, [and] SOE’, with OSS in particular doing a ‘good job’.56 The 21st Army
Group’s Brigadier General Staff (Intelligence), E.T.Williams, also valued OSS
intelligence on the movement of German armour, whereas British agents were
‘too thin in the south to get this dope’. The ‘[b]ulk of the sources [were]
established by the British’, but Williams believed that after OVERLORD,
76 SERVANTS OF OVERLORD
‘British sources from [the] agents’ point of view ceased. American sources came
alive tactically’, while the British remained the ‘best strategically—[as they were
more directly] linked back to London’.57 Williams further wanted an SI
Detachment to work with the 21st Army Group because its product ‘was so
highly regarded’, compared to the intelligence from the 2nd British Army, which
‘had been unsatisfactory’.58
The SI Field Detachments were critical to the military’s increasingly positive
reception toward OSS intelligence work in Normandy (General Sibert, 12th US
Army Group G-2, ‘several times expressed satisfaction with work done by [the]
12th Army Group [SI] Detachment’).59 The strategic and operational picture
available to the army staffs obviously centered on ULTRA material gleaned from
cryptanalysis, and passed to the armies by Special Liaison Units attached to the
army field headquarters.60 ULTRA was also useful as a means of selecting
correct information from the mass of available material.61 A 1st US Army SLU
officer believed that G-2 had to use ‘PW interrogations, P/R and Tac[tical]/R
[econnaissance], Signal Intelligence, Agents and Documents, as well as Ultra.
No single one is a touchstone and dire results will follow from the notion that
Ultra is the only agency which need be studied and believed.’62 One officer
attached to SHAEF Air Intelligence stated outright that ‘ULTRA gives merely
proper direction and the rest is a matter of applying sound Intelligence
procedure’ to the other sources, rather than simply ‘providing conversational
titbits for generals’.63 The main relevance of OSSEX-generated information was
therefore at the immediate tactical level as another valued source of combat
intelligence. The SI Field Detachments fulfilled much the same role as an SLU
by being a link between SUSSEX intelligence and the field armies, but they were
also more closely involved in directing and controlling their own particular
assets. The SI Detachments recruited local people as agents without special
training for use in ‘shallow infiltration missions to obtain short range tactical
intelligence’.64 SIS encountered the same phenomenon, and credited it both to a
gap in the British and American armies’ long-range intelligence capabilities, and
to their immediate, pressing demands for tactical intelligence.65 This must have
contributed to Broadway’s 11 June decision to sanction sending SI-controlled
agents to the American zone without formal SIS clearance.66
The commander of the 1st US Army’s SI Detachment ironically took
exception to this whole trend, as a dissipation of SI resources at the expense of
its ‘proper’ espionage role, although this attitude may have stemmed from the 1st
US Army G-2’s personal antipathy toward OSS, which contributed to this
detachment eventually moving to the 12th US Army Group HQ.67 The SI
Detachment commander’s superiors in London did not concur with his view,
however. OSS/London’s Theater Report for 1–15 June 1944 emphasized that:
This hard reality was brought home even more by David Bruce himself two
weeks later:
During the past week, Colonel Bruce visited the lodgment area and
returned with several distinctive impressions which may be summarized as
follows:
Regardless of the value of the contribution that OSS has made in the
past, or will continue to make in the field of Strategic or long-range
intelligence and operations, from now on OSS’ [sic] reputation and
prestige will be considerably affected by the success obtained by its field
units in achieving the tactical desires of army commanders. This is in large
part due to the fact that those field commanders whose word will mean
much concerning the value of any given components of the military
organization will have small appreciation of long-range activities of OSS,
but they are likely to have definite opinions concerning the operations of
our field units. OSS is therefore in a position where it must give full
support to its field units, even though they may have been considered as
subsidiary and incidental to the long-range activities of the organization.69
(Bradley Smith credits Donovan for pushing this agenda throughout 1944, but
the documents obviously show how this was only realized after D-Day, and by
Bruce and other officers.)70 For their part, the American military concluded that
agents’ reports were of particular use, fourth in priority to the more immediate
means of PW interrogation, PR, and SIGINT. The 3rd US Army G-2 believed
that
[t]he OSS Detachment was an agency of wide versatility and great value.
Under aggressive and cooperative leadership, and functioning in close
coordination and confidence, it executed a wide range of important
missions, from procuring of information of enemy forces, defenses and
movements behind his lines, to preparing economic and political surveys
of areas under enemy control… It contributed vitally to effective combat
intelligence and in a number of cases was the sole source of information
upon which tactical decisions could be based. From the Army point of
view, under proper leadership, it was indispensable.
78 SERVANTS OF OVERLORD
armies in the field quickly came to rely on them to fill a real gap in their
intelligence capabilities, and to augment the conventional forces with the
widespread harassment factor embodied in the Resistance.76
The relevance of the Anglo-American secret services was therefore directly
proportionate to their ability to serve SHAEF and the armies. SIS and SOE were
as heavily invested in the successful execution of that mission as were SI and SO.
SOE was driven to validate the entire concept of sabotage and resistance as a
‘fourth arm’, while SIS had with SUSSEX its only real prospect of redeeming
itself for past operational shortcomings with some tangible successes in the field.
That SI outstripped its British counterpart, and SO kept pace with the
numerically superior SOE, were achievements made possible by the British
services’ obvious support of OSS. Both SIS and SOE gave their support to their
American colleagues as OSS secured the authority to act from its own theatre
command, and as certain unavoidable technical prerequisites, such as
communications and personnel, were met. That the British did so testifies to their
whole approach toward working with OSS. Each British service paired off with
the OSS branch most similar to itself, and supported what would presumably be
a junior partner that would probably enhance the viability of JEDBURGH or
SUSSEX with its modest contribution. It may also have been considered politic
to involve OSS fully with British plans in keeping with the corporatism of the
entire OVERLORD enterprise. As events unfolded, however, SI and SO
surpassed all expectations, and delivered what the military desired. Both
branches proved better able to adapt and respond to evolving circumstances, and
their focus on doing so was not an indication of a minimalized anti-climactic
role, but a recognition of what was required from intelligence as supporting
players.77
These two branches’ successes were simultaneously facilitated, and
complicated, by their relationship with the British services. The support of SIS
and SOE was of paramount importance to the survival and evolving credibility
of OSS in the face of persistent scepticism from the American military. At no
time did SIS or SOE seek to curtail the growth of OSS, whatever the suspicions
of some within SI, or whatever inevitable personality clashes occurred. The
British in fact fostered OSS. SI and SO moreover owed their involvement in
OVERLORD to their being permitted to fuse with their counterparts in what
were really the only viable clandestine programmes that OSS could have hoped
to participate in, much less develop on its own, whatever premature pretensions
Donovan in particular harboured about ‘independent’ SI espionage launched
from Britain. What must also be conceded, though, is the fact that OSS did not
participate in OVERLORD as a coherent entity. It was as fragmented as the
British intelligence community, and in fact suffered from the same rivalries and
infighting as the British. George Brewer’s diary particularly illuminates the
institutional parochialism involved, while Bruce’s correspondence further
underscores the reality that the branches had to forge their own relationships with
the individual British services to make any headway. The evolution of SUSSEX
80 SERVANTS OF OVERLORD
and JED-BURGH therefore had to overcome the competition tolerated within the
British system, thus nullifying the presumed advantage of a unified intelligence
service supposedly embodied by OSS. The classic manifestation of this was SI’s
opposition to SO disseminating intelligence obtained from the Resistance; ‘SIS
continues to disseminate its own reports and interpretations of Resistance
independent of SOE. Since SIS preserves its freedom as an intelligence agency,
SI must retain a similar right on the American side.’78 It is moreover clear in
retrospect that this fragmentation prevented the clandestine services from making
an even greater contribution to OVERLORD than was in fact the case. It
obviously precluded contemplating, much less developing, a unified secret
service HQ that could oversee both SUSSEX and JEDBURGH; it ruled out the
possibility of having a joint SI/SF Detachment with each army HQ; and it certainly
prevented a unity of effort in the field between the SFHQ-controlled Resistance,
and the SUSSEX intelligence gatherers. It is not unreasonable to hold that a truly
coordinated clandestine programme could have provided even better support for
the military. It is undeniable, though, that cooperation between functionally
identical services—SI with SIS, SO with SOE—was as far as unity of effort
could go. Functional loyalties thus took precedence over national ones. SI and
SIS could fuse more effectively than either could with their own national
sabotage service (William Phillips characterized this phenomenon as SO and
SOE working ‘jointly’, while SI and SIS worked on ‘parallel lines’).79
The popular mythology about British intelligence colouring most
interpretations of OSS/London’s evolution are accordingly rooted in some
fundamental misconceptions about the outstation’s imperatives. The patrician
background of OSS/London’s hierarchy, particularly as embodied by David
Bruce, is granted pride of place in explaining Anglo-American intelligence
harmony. Bruce’s ability to mix in the British establishment’s Savoy/White’s
milieu is often presumed to have been a prerequisite for creating a sound, even
like-minded, relationship with British services keen to see OSS evolve under
their thumbs. By projecting the correct image, the Americans were able to secure
British tutelage and subsequently bloom to assume the British espionage mantle.
The quality of life that Bruce and his British counterparts enjoyed is certainly
spelled out in Bruce’s wartime diary, with constant references to his fine dining
experiences.80 Bruce further wrote Donovan in March 1943 to request
(unsuccessfully, it seems) getting on the US Embassy’s ‘Diplomatic List’ in order
to obtain liquor ‘necessary’ for the arduous, ‘continuous entertaining that the
men in [Bruce’s] office [were] obliged to do to maintain and open up
relationships…profitable to [OSS/London’s] work’.81 Reality was nevertheless
quite different. Clubability and establishment credentials counted for very little
as long as the US military remained wary of OSS abilities. The British
were moreover guided primarily in their approach to OSS wartime operations by
their own strained resources, not by a cunning desire to ‘control’ American
intelligence. The British supported SI and SO because of what the Americans
could offer to the success of JEDBURGH and SUSSEX, not because the
AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON 81
NOTES
Books 1 and 2, Jedburgh Teams’, pp. x–xvi, in Bradley F.Smith (ed.), Covert
Warfare, Vol. 3: OSS Jedburgh Teams I (New York: Garland, 1989); the Minutes
for COSSAC Staff Conference, 2 July 1943, WO 219/588, PRO note that ‘the
possibilities of SOE action should be constantly borne in mind during planning’;
see J.R.M. Butler, Grand Strategy, Vol. III, June 1941–August 1942, part ii
(London: HMSO, 1964), pp. 517–18, on how the entry of the US into the war
changed SOE’s role.
20. See ‘OSS London, June 1942–December 1942’, Notes by Whitney S.Shepardson,
September 1959, Folder 48, Box 119B, Donovan Papers, USAMHI.
21. Bruce to Donovan, 8 March 1943, frame 92, Reel 39, Entry 95, RG 226, NARA.
22. See Shepardson notes, September 1959, Folder 48, Box 119B, Donovan Papers;
Bruce report on ‘SAB London’, 12 August 1942, names the two SA/B-SI officers,
and emphasizes London’s limited liaison role to date; Bruce to Donovan, 27
February 1943, frame 87, Reel 39, Entry 95, RG 226, NARA, states that Cavendish-
Bentinck was ‘satisfied in every respect with the relationships that he has had with
OSS’.
23. Shepardson notes.
24. Ibid.
25. Bruce to Donovan, 10 April 1943, frames 111–12, Reel 39, Entry 95, RG 226,
NARA.
26. Bruce to Donovan, 24 April and 24 May 1943, frames 120–3, 139–42, Reel 39,
Entry 95; Bruce to Francis P.Miller, 29 April 1943, Folder 39, Box 24, Entry 92;
both in RG 226, NARA.
27. Bruce to Donovan, 29 May 1943, frames 144–5; on smooth SUSSEX planning,
Bruce to Donovan, 3 July 1943, frames 165–8; 14 August 1943, frames 173–4; 23
August 1943, frame 178; and 28 August 1943, frame 182; all in Reel 39, Entry 95;
‘tentative suggestion’ and US military intelligence obstruction of SI in ‘SUSSEX:
Developments as shown in Progress Reports’, 16 October 1944, Folder 556, Box
240, Entry 190; all in RG 226, NARA.
28. Bruce to Donovan, 28 August 1943.
29. See Miller’s note to Cohen thanking him for his ‘season ticket’ to Broadway (i.e., his
pass), 18 January 1944, Folder 242, Box 308, and Miller to Maddox, report on
SUSSEX management, 14 April 1944, Folder 475, Box 234, both in Entry 190, RG
226, NARA.
30. See the draft ‘War Diary, Strategic Services Officer, Relations with the British’, p.
24; ‘War Diary, SI Branch, Vol. 1’, pp. 15–16, 23–5 (which alternately suggests
SIS was reluctant to help SI, and that SI had nothing to offer SIS in exchange for
the British help).
31. See ‘War Diary, SI Branch, Vol. 3’, pp. 3–5, 25–7.
32. ‘SUSSEX: Developments as shown in Progress Reports’; see also SI Branch
SemiMonthly Report #11, 15 July 1943, Folder 1, Box 1, Entry 99, RG 226,
NARA.
33. Bruce to Donovan, 8 March 1943; and Bruce to Donovan, 14 August 1943.
34. Shepardson notes; Shepardson’s recollection is confirmed by ‘The Relations of
OSS to the Free French BCRA, and to British Broadway’, 26 August 1942, Folder
451, Box 320, Entry 190, and Bruce to Donovan, 27 March 1943, frame 102, Reel
39, Entry 95, which remark on the mutual suspicion between SIS and the French,
both in RG 226, NARA.
84 SERVANTS OF OVERLORD
35. David Schoenbrun, Soldiers of the Night: The Story of the French Resistance (New
York: E.P.Dutton, 1980), p. 295; see also pp. 296, 330.
36. Cecil, ‘“C’s”’, pp. 172, 180; R.H. Smith, OSS, p. 172 presumes, rather than proves,
Dansey’s culpability.
37. Brewer Diary, 27 March; 24, 26, 30 April 1943—some notes on Brewer’s journal are
in Folder 343, Box 224, Entry 190; a number of memoranda concerning SO’s
hostility to the Lloyd plan are to be found in Folder 3, Box 347, Entry 92 (for
Lloyd’s plan, and the covering letter, J.M.Scribner to Donovan, 17 March 1944,
outlining the objections of SO officers), and in Folder 188, Box 343, Entry 190 for
comments and counter-comments by Lloyd and Brewer, all in RG 226, NARA.
38. Brewer Diary, 9, 10 April; 3 May 1943; Dodds-Parker further stated on 3 May that
the ‘combination of SO/SOE seemed to be headed for a joint operation’ in North
Africa ‘in exactly the same way’ as being planned in London.
39. Tightrope’ from William R.Corson, The Armies of Ignorance: The Rise of the
American Intelligence Empire (New York: The Dial Press/James Wade, 1977), p.
195.
40. Sweet-Escott, Baker, pp. 138, 145–6, 153; Thomas F.Troy (ed.), Wartime
Washington: The Secret OSS Journal of James Grafton Rogers, 1942–1943
(Frederick: University Publications of America, 1987), entry for 18 November
1943, p. 175.
41. ‘Confidential Memorandum For Colonel Donovan’ regarding ‘Communication by
radio from England with secret agents in Europe’, attached to memos, Donovan to
Col Gambier-Parry, to Sir Charles Hambro, to Capt. Louis Huot, and to Lt-Gen.
D.D. Eisenhower, CG, ETOUSA, all 25 November 1942, all in ‘War Diary,
Communications Branch, OSS/London, Vol. 7, Basic Documents’, Reel 1, Entry
91, RG 226, NARA.
42. Col R.Gambier-Parry to Capt. L.Huot, 6 January 1943; Huot to Gambier-Parry, 9
January 1943, both in ‘War Diary, Communications Branch, 7’; Gambier-Perry’s
cooperation and unlisted SIS frequencies for OSS from draft narrative
‘Headquarters Communications Branch London’, pp. 2–7, Folder 97, Box 4, Entry
103; see also note on 12 October 1942 meeting with Gambier-Parry, and letters,
Huot to Maj. L.W Lowman, 1 and 7 January, and 5 March 1943, Lowman to Huot,
21 January 1943, all in Folder 12, Box 201, Entry 190; for Stations CHARLES and
VICTOR and their technical cipher/communications methods, see ‘War Diary,
Communications Branch, OSS/London, Vol. 5, Technical Volume’, frames 492–
584, Reel 1, Entry 91; for a schematic of the CHARLES and VICTOR nets with
the armies in the field, see frame 1092, Reel 129, Entry 116; see the Minutes of the
SI/London meeting concerning the establishment of an operating base, 23 April
1943, Folder 424, Box 319, Entry 190 which concedes that ‘as [the US] had never
permitted the British to set up an independent communication system in America,
there was justification in their not wishing us to set one up here’; all in RG 226,
NARA; for the importance of radio for clandestine programmes, see ‘Resistance
Movements in the War’, Lecture by Maj.-Gen. Sir Colin Gubbins, 28 January
1948, pp. 19–24, Document No. 937, Folder 2, Box 5, Donovan Papers, USAMHI;
Jørgen Haestrup, European Resistance Movements, 1939–1945: A Complete
History (Westport: Meckler, 1981), pp. 384–5.
43. Hinsley, II, p. 53; Kermit Roosevelt’s War Report of the OSS, Vol. II, is previously
cited on that page.
AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON 85
44. ‘War Diary, SO Branch, OSS/London, Vol. 5, Army Staffs’, pp. i–viii, in OSS/
London, Reel 5; ‘War Diary, SI Branch, OSS/London, Vol. 5, Field Detachments’,
pp. 1–4, in OSS/London, Reel 7; see also material from 29 May 1944, pertaining to
the allocation of personnel for SO and SI Detachments, frames 845–70, Reel 18,
Entry 162; and the excellent survey (n.d., but presumably pre-OVERLORD) of the
purpose, planning, structure, standard procedures, and operational methods of SI
Field Detachments contained in Folder 3255, Box 230, Entry 146; see also
Standing Operating Procedures of SO and SI Detachments in Folder 432, Box 231,
Entry 190; all in RG 226, NARA.
45. Arthur L.Funk, ‘Churchill, Eisenhower, and the French Resistance’, Military
Affairs 45, 1 (February 1981), pp. 29–32; ‘War Diary, SO, Vol. 1, Office of Chief,
pp. 1–2, 23; see also Fabrizio Calvi, ‘The OSS in France’, in Chalou (ed.), Secrets,
pp. 247–8; on British motives in France, see Keith Sainsbury, ‘The Second
Wartime Alliance’, in Neville Waites (ed.), Troubled Neighbours: Franco-British
Relations in the Twentieth Century (London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1971), pp.
251–2, and Milton Viorst, Hostile Allies: FDR and Charles de Gaulle (New York:
Macmillan, 1965), p. 223; for Roosevelt’s hostility toward the FNCL, see Warren
F.Kimball (ed.), Churchill and Roosevelt: The Complete Correspondence, Vol. II:
Alliance Forged, November 1942–February 1944 (Princeton: Princeton University
Press, 1984), p. 255; see Roosevelt’s 12 May 1944 message to Churchill
concerning Eisenhower’s authority to deal with the FNCL in Warren F.Kimball (ed.),
Churchill and Roosevelt: The Complete Correspondence, Vol. III: Alliance
Declining, February 1944–April 1945 (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1984),
p. 130; see also the SIS-SOE view in the extract from the 20th Meeting of the ‘FO
[SIS]-SOE Committee’, 1 September 1943, Z9717/519/G17, FO 371/36059B, PRO;
SHAEF Operational Directive to SOE/SO, 23 March 1943, in ‘War Diary, SO,
Vol. 12’, pp. 75–83.
46. JCS demand in JSM Washington-WCO London, JSM 1396, 7 January 1944, WO
193/624; British response in Air Ministry to Britman Washington, COS (W) 1246,
30 March 1944, WO 106/4321; both in PRO.
47. See Kenneth Macksey, The Partisans of Europe in World War II (London: Hart-
Davis, MacGibbon, 1975), pp. 186–7.
48. See Eisenhower’s ‘Secret Memorandum for the Record’, 22 March 1944, in Alfred
D. Chandler, Jr, et al. (eds) The Papers of Dwight David Eisenhower: The War
Years, Vol. III (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins Press, 1970), pp. 1783–4—see also
Viorst, Hostile, pp. 192, 196–7; Robert H.Ferrell (ed.), The Eisenhower Diaries
(New York: W.W. Norton, 1981), p. 113; Mark Wheeler, ‘The SOE Phenomenon’,
Journal of Contemporary History 16, 3 (July 1981), pp. 517–18; Stephen
E.Ambrose, ‘Eisenhower and the Intelligence Community in World War II’,
Journal of Contemporary History 16, 1 (January 1981), p. 154; Stephen
E.Ambrose, ‘Eisenhower, the Intelligence Community, and the D-Day Invasion’,
Wisconsin Magazine of History 64, 4 (Summer 1981), pp. 261–2.
49. See ‘War Diary, SI, Vol. 3’, pp. 19–21 on the utility of SUSSEX; for the fixation
on securing the bridgehead, see Russell F.Weigley, Eisenhower’s Lieutenants: The
Campaign in France and Germany, 1944–1945 (Bloomington: Indiana University
Press, 1981), pp. 49–53, 70–1.
50. ‘War Diary, SO Branch, Vol. 2’, pp. 7–14; ‘War Diary, Director’s Office, OSS/
London, Vol. 1, April–June 1944’, pp. 3–5, Folder 145, Box 211, Entry 190, RG
86 SERVANTS OF OVERLORD
226, NARA; see also the chart of OSS Branch relationships with SHAEF, Folder
121, Box 93, Entry 99, RG 226, NARA; Macksey, Partisans, pp. 186–7; ‘War
Diary, SO Branch, Vol. 1, pp. 26–40; for the ‘Basic JEDBURGH Directive’ of
December 1943, see ‘War Diary, SO, Vol. 12’, pp. 36–47; for redesignation as
SFHQ, p. 85; on training for JEDBURGH, see ‘War Diary, SO Branch, OSS/
London, Vol. 9, Training’, pp. i–xiv, 1–33; on supply, see ‘War Diary, SO Branch,
OSS/London, Vol. 10, Supply’, pp. i–x, 1–12, Pierre Lorain, Clandestine
Operations: The Arms and Techniques of the Resistance, 1941–1944, adapted by
David Kahn (New York: Macmillan, 1983), and James D. Ladd, Keith Melton, and
Peter Mason, Clandestine Warfare: Weapons and Equipment of the SOE and OSS
(London: Blandford Press, 1988); on French Resistance, see ‘War Diary, SO
Branch, OSS/London, Vol. 13, Miscellaneous’, pp. 90–5, all in OSS/London, Reel
6; see also Forrest C.Pogue, The Supreme Command (Washington, DC: Office of
the Chief of Military History, Department of the Army, 1954), pp. 153–6, and
Gordon A.Harrison, Cross-Channel Attack (Washington, DC: Office of the Chief
of Military History, Department of the Army, 1951), pp. 198–207.
51. See: Foot, SOE, pp. 30–4, 400–2; ‘War Diary, SO, Vol. 3’, pp. 6, 175–7 (a list of
pre-and post-D-Day sabotage is found on pp. 268–79), in B.F.Smith (ed.), Covert
Warfare, 5; ‘War Diary, SO Branch, OSS/London, Vol. 4, Books 1 and 2, Jedburgh
Teams’, pp. 17–322, in B.F.Smith (ed.), Covert Warfare, 3 ; ‘War Diary, SO
Branch, OSS/London, Vol. 4, Books 3 and 4, Jedburgh Teams’, pp. 519–861—on
relations with SAS, see pp. 502, 567, 574, 578–9; on SAS operations, see Paul
McCue, SAS Operation Bulbasket: Behind the Lines in Occupied France, 1944
(London: Leo Cooper, 1996); on tactical versus strategic, see pp. 623, 682, 740,
747, 859; on the air operations for the SO drops, see ‘War Diary, SO Branch, OSS/
London, Vol. 6, Air Operations’, in OSS/London, Reel 5, as well as Ben Parnell,
Carpetbaggers: America’s Secret War in Europe: A Story of the World War II
Carpetbaggers 801st/492nd Bombardment Group (H) US Army Eighth Air Force
(Austin: Eakin Press, 1987); for Operational Group commando-style, rather than
clandestine, activities, see ‘War Diary, SO Branch, OSS/London, Vol. 4-A,
Operational Groups’, pp. 2–4, 22–144, in Bradley F. Smith (ed.), Covert Warfare,
Vol. 4: OSS Jedburgh Teams II (New York: Garland, 1989); ‘War Diary, SO, Vol.
5’, pp. 73–6; see also Overseas Report of Captain Reeve Schley, 27 June 1945,
Folder 46b#3, Box 11a, Entry 99, RG 226, NARA, for the observations of an SO
officer of the utility of the Maquis to the military, and ‘Phantom Operations in the
US Sector, Operation Overlord”’; for general reports on the 1st US Army SF
Detachment, see William C.Jackson to Col Haskell, 3 July 1944, Folder 304, and
24 July, with Standing Operating Procedures for the Detachment, Folder 302, both
in Box 352, Entry 190; see also Alfred D.Chandler, Jr, et al., The Papers of Dwight
David Eisenhower: The War Years, Vol. IV (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins Press,
1970), p. 2101; Fabrizio Calvi, with Olivier Schmidt, OSS—La Guerre Secréte en
France: Les Services Speciaux Americains, La Resistance et la Gestapo, 1942–
1945 (Paris: Hachette, 1990); Ambrose, ‘D-Day’, pp. 271–2.
52. ‘War Diary, SI, Vol. 1’, pp. 25–6; ‘War Diary, SI, Vol. 3’, pp. 1–2, 6–11; ‘War
Diary, Strategic Services Officer, Relations with the British’, p. 27; on signal-
processing/sharing procedure, see also Miller to Horton, 19 May 1944, and to
ACoS, G-2 SHAEF, 30 May 1944, Folder 476, Box 234; Memo, Maj. L.Dups to Maj.
Harrison, with attachments, 3 August 1944, Folder 1318, Box 292; and diagrams,
AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON 87
Folder 1171, Box 280, all in Entry 190, RG 226, NARA; G-2 Washington had
originally insisted that SI be denied authority to collect tactical intelligence, which
affected the deployment of SUSSEX agents deep behind enemy lines—see
Minutes, SI Executive Committee, 27 April 1944, Folder 236, Box 18, Entry 168,
RG 226, NARA; ‘Elaboration of the Sussex Plan of the Office of Strategic
Services’, 2 November 1943, in ‘War Diary, SI Branch, OSS/London, Vol. 11,
Basic Documents’, in OSS/London, Reel 8.
53. ‘War Diary, SI, Vol. 3’, pp. 12–14; for the origins of aircraft radio monitoring
(code-named ASCENSION), see ‘OSS Activities, January 1944’, regarding
SUSSEX in the ETO, Folder 111, Box 91, Entry 99, RG 226, NARA.
54. Folders 1027–30, Box 104, Entry 136; SI Field Detachment messages concerning
the employment of agents for the armies are in Folder 1222, Box 110, Entry 136; a
series of SHAEF information requests for SI dated 28 July, 9 and 15 August are in
Folder 325, Box 314, Entry 190; all in RG 226, NARA.
55. ‘War Diary, SI, Vol. 3’, pp. 12–14.
56. Forrest C.Pogue interview with K.W.D.Strong, 12 December 1946, in materials
used for The Supreme Command, USAMHI.
57. Forrest C.Pogue interview with Brig. E.T.Williams, 30–31 May 1947, USAMHI.
58. Minutes of Intelligence Committee Meeting, 29 June 1944, Folder 356, Box 226,
Entry 190, RG 226, NARA.
59. SI London Monthly Progress Report, 31 August 1944, Folder 97, Box 87, Entry
99, RG 226, NARA.
60. On the development of SLUs and the military’s use of ULTRA, see ‘Synthesis of
Experiences in the Use of Ultra Intelligence by US Army Field Commands in the
European Theatre of Operations’, especially pp. 6–13, 24–9, SRH-006, RG 457,
NARA.
61. Ibid., p. 20.
62. Memorandum on Ultra Intelligence by Lt-Col A.G.Rosengarten, 1st US Army, 21
May 1945 in PRO 31/20/3, PRO.
63. Memorandum by Lt-Col E.K.Thompson, SHAEF Air Intelligence, 12 May 1945 in
PRO 31/20/12, PRO; see also F.W.Winterbotham, The Ultra Secret (New York:
Dell, 1974), pp. 42–4, 114, 132–3, 182, 189–90, 205–6; Ralph Bennett, Ultra and
Mediterranean Strategy (New York: William Morrow, 1989), pp. 15–19, and
passim; Ralph Bennett, Ultra in the West: The Normandy Campaign of 1944–45
(New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1979), pp. 1–25, 29, 58, and passim; Parrish,
Ultra Americans, pp. 207–32; Hinsley, I, p. 572; F.H.Hinsley, et al., British
Intelligence in the Second World War: Its Influence on Strategy and Operations,
Vol. III, Part 2 (London: HMSO, 1988), pp. 3–277; cf. Ambrose, Ike’s, pp. 67, 71–
2; on ULTRA over-reliance, cf. David Fraser, Alanbrooke (London: Collins,
1982), p. 341.
64. On ‘Recruitment in the Bridgehead Area’, see the Memo from Maj. A.M.Scaife
through Chief, SO and Chief, SI, 27 June 1944, Folder 355, Box 315, Entry 190,
RG 226, NARA.
65. ‘OSS/London War Diary, SI, 5’, pp. 4–36.
66. See the entry from Bruce’s diary in Lankford (ed.), Diaries of David K.E.Bruce, p.
71.
67. ‘War Diary, SI, Vol. 5’, pp. 20–3; the peculiar attitude of the 1st Army G-2 is
evident in the Forrest C.Pogue interview with Col B.A.Dickson, 1st US Army G-2,
88 SERVANTS OF OVERLORD
6 February 1952, who states that after banishing OSS from his staff, he ‘got OSS
stuff anyway from Koch (3rd Army G-2)—he sent out the stuff by the pound’.
68. ETO Theatre Report, 15 June 1944, Folder 3, Box 2, Entry 99, RG 226, NARA.
69. ETO Theatre Report, 1 July 1944, both in Folder 3, Box 2, Entry 99, RG 226,
NARA (see also Scaife to Shepardson, 7 July 1944, and ETO Officers Pouch
Report, 14 July 1944, both in Folder 39, Box 9, Entry 99, RG 226, NARA).
70. B.F.Smith, Shadow, pp. 292–3.
71. ‘A Study of Operations of G-2 (Intelligence Branch) in the 12th Army Group For
the Period from 1 August 1944 to 9 May 1945’, pp. 36–7, Folder 83, Box 300,
Entry 190; see Field Report of Maj. Trafford P.Klots, of the SI Detachment, 1st US
Army, Folder 46a#4, and of Maj. E.P.Gaskell, SI Detachment, 3rd US Army,
Folder 46a#3, both in Box 11, Entry 99; all RG 226, NARA; see Bruce diary, 10
June, in Lankford (ed.), Diaries of David K.E.Bruce, pp. 70–1, 117, and n. 1, p.
220.
72. Handwritten response by Maj. Ides Van Der Gracht, on Memo, Lt (jg) H.H.Proctor
to Van Der Gracht, 2 November 1944, Folder 363, Box 316, Entry 190, RG 226,
NARA.
73. ‘War Diary, R&D Branch, OSS/London, Vol. 1, Organization’, pp. 42–3, frames
348–9, Reel 4, Entry 91; ‘shockingly’, Lt E.C.Crocker to S.P.Lovell, 10 May 1944,
Folder 1232, Box 84, Entry 148, both in RG 226, NARA.
74. ‘War Diary, SI Branch, OSS/London, Vol. 4, Proust’, pp. 1–3, 38–41, in B.F.Smith
(ed.), Covert Warfare, 2; see also Waller B.Booth, Mission Marcel Proust: The
Story of an Unusual OSS Undertaking (Philadelphia: Dorrance and Company,
1972) for a narrative of the PROUST teams.
75. Thompson memo, PRO 31/20/12, PRO.
76. See ‘The Value of SOE Operations in the Supreme Commander’s Sphere’, n.d, c.
July 1945, WO 219/40B, PRO; cf. B.F.Smith, Shadow, p. 418.
77. See B.F.Smith, Shadow, pp. 292–3, 305, 307, and Jakub, Spies, pp. 146–84; on the
‘militarization’ of OSS, see Robert H.Alcorn, No Bugles for Spies: Tales of the
OSS (London: Jarrolds, 1963), pp. 187–8; on SOE aims, see Wheeler, pp. 517–18;
see M.R.D.Foot, ‘What Good Did Resistance Do?’, in Stephan Hawes and Ralph
White (eds), Resistance in Europe, 1939–1945 (London: Allen Lane, 1975), pp.
210–1; see also ‘Historical Survey, Report #1, German Intelligence Services M.I.
4’, September 1947, WO 208/4358, PRO regarding Referat IV A2 of the Gestapo,
which states that the resistance movements in Western Europe did not become
‘fully developed’ until 1943–4, and that German counter-resistance efforts were
focused on the East until that period; FO 371/41905–8, PRO holds excerpts from
fortnightly SIS-SOE meetings (‘FO-SOE Committee’), with those of 12 April, 9
May, and 11 July 1944, survey the increased German counter-measures
encountered by Resistance groups over this period; George Brewer specifically
described the SO-SOE operational relationship ‘as that of a junior partner working
under the direction of a senior partner’ in draft of ‘War Diary, Strategic Services
Officer, Relations with the British’, p. 18.
78. Col John Haskell to Col Bruce, 3 June 1944, Folder 780, Box 255, Entry 190, RG
226, NARA—corroborated by Bruce Diary for 22 June 1944, in Lankford (ed.) p.
83, which states that ‘the touchy relationship between SIS and SOE’ complicated
plans for SF Detachments to make intelligence reports; Maj. R.G.D’Oench to Lt
Col W.P. Maddox, 19 June 1944, Folder 465, Box 34, Entry 115, RG 226, NARA
AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON 89
shows that SHAEF ordered all SFHQ intelligence reports to be disseminated to G-2
SHAEF by SI; see also Foot, ‘Partnership’, in Chalou (ed.), Secrets, pp. 295–300; a
Minute by V Cavendish-Bentinck, 25 October 1944, Z6774/82/G14, FO 371/41907,
PRO refers to the French knowing ‘perfectly well that SIS and SOE are not only
separate organizations, but are at daggers drawn’.
79. William Phillips, Ventures in Diplomacy (London: John Murray, 1955), p. 211; cf.
Miller, Spying, pp. 282–5; Roosevelt, II, p. viii, argues that such coordination
amounted to direct British control; see Donovan’s reaction to the September 1943
British COS opinion on the worth of OSS, followed by the JCS authority for SI to
act ‘independently’ should the opportunity arise in ‘War Diary, Strategic Services
Officer, Relations with the British’, pp. 58–63; Donovan’s full memo, 18 October
1943, is in Folder 1, Box 89, Entry 92, RG 226, NARA; COS (43), 240th Mtg (O),
7 October 1943, Minute 6, WO 193/624, PRO clearly indicates that the British
were primarily concerned with ‘once and for all…clarify [ing] the principles
underwhich SOE and OSS should operate in…combined theatres and US or British
theatres’ without restricting the freedom of SI; cf. J.G.Beevor, SOE: Recollections
and Reflections, 1940–1945 (London: The Bodley Head, 1981), p. 83, on the
British emphasis on procedures for the control of operations, and not spheres of
influence, and SI/London Minutes, 23 April 1943, which reluctantly concedes that
SIS could not be expected to jeopardize its own operations for American ones of
dubious potential; see also Jakub, Spies, pp. 146–84.
80. Lankford (ed.), Diaries of David K.E.Bruce, pp. 12–34.
81. Bruce to Donovan, 4 March 1943; ‘continuous’, Hugh R.Wilson to G.Howland
Shaw; this request was vetoed by Donovan since Bruce would have been listed as
an Assistant to the Military Attache, and this would have implied subordination to
G-2/London—see Donovan to Bruce, 12 April 1943; all in Folder 39, Box 24,
Entry 92, RG 226, NARA..
82. Cf. with Christopher Hitchens, Blood, Class and Nostalgia: Anglo-American
Ironies. (London: Chatto and Windus, 1990), pp. 330–9; Winks, Cloak, pp. 152–
230, especially p. 179, and pp. 190–2 on the Mediterranean; Donald Downes, The
Scarlet Thread: Adventures in Wartime Espionage (New York: The British Book
Centre, 1953), especially p. 86, where Downes opines that spying is ‘essentially
unmilitary’; and Corvo, Italy, passim; see also the negative view of SIS in Coon,
Story, pp. 131–3.
83. For the ‘Manhattan Project’ analogy, see Barry M.Katz, ‘The OSS and the
Development of the Research and Analysis Branch’, in Chalou (ed.), Secrets, p. 47.
4
Reductio Ad Absurdum: R&A/London’s Quest
for Relevance
been suggested by Bradley F.Smith that with OSS restructured and distanced
from Roosevelt, the branch essentially became orientated as ‘a data-feeding
organization that developed information and then tried to find customers who
would use it’. Smith does, however, mirror Winks’s view of research and
analysis being the core of intelligence agencies, and of R&A demonstrating the
potential application of academic study to a centralized service that continued
after the war.7 Barry Katz particularly embraces this positive view of academia’s
contribution to intelligence, and of intelligence-experienced scholars to
academia, through R&A.8
This latter inclination is understandable in terms of intellectual history, but it
still leaves the specific issue of R&A’s contribution to intelligence unresolved. It
is not enough to presume R&A’s effectiveness in the face of the continuing
scholarly ambiguity regarding R&A’s actual work. R&A/London’s experiences
in fact demonstrate quite clearly that it was not very unique in its achievements;
that it was more often superfluous to collection-synthesis-analysis than an
embodiment of it; and that in ‘many situations, there was a discrepancy between
what social scientists thought they could do and what policy-makers were
prepared to let them do’, although R&A’s work did often remain unused.9
Britain began mobilizing scholars and professionals to provide expert
analytical support for the government well before Donovan’s creation of an OSS
academic branch. This infusion of ‘new men and new methods’ into wartime
Whitehall is termed ‘Hitler’s reforms’ by one historian of the British Civil
Service. The reoccupation of the Rhineland on 7 March 1936 prompted Lord
Hankey to begin focusing government attention on the steps necessary for
mobilizing new ministries in the event of war with Germany. Profiting from First
World War experience, it was quickly realized that talent originating outside the
Civil Service would have to be identified and earmarked for official use. A
report on the ‘Employment in war of University men’ delivered by the Manpower
Sub-Committee of the Committee of Imperial Defence in August 1938
recommended ‘that undergraduates and graduates wishing to enlist should be
treated primarily as a field for the selection of officers or for employment on
special duties and therefore dealt with under special recruiting arrangements’. A
Central Register for gathering particulars on suitably qualified individuals was
subsequently established within the Ministry of Labour. While GC&CS had
already begun recruiting ‘probably the greatest collection of first-class British
grey matter ever assembled in one place’ the preceding June, other government
departments began identifying people with presumed technical and
administrative expertise. The Central Register was sidestepped to an extent by
SIS who ‘had rather special requirements for men who were not specifically
covered’ by the Register’s mandate, but the outbreak of hostilities in September
1939 soon had academics placed throughout the war ministries. Almost 1,000
each month found themselves assigned duties within the first 6 months of war.
Statisticians were ‘like gold dust’, while many economists found their way
logically enough into the Economic Section of the War Cabinet. Since Churchill
92 R&A/LONDON’S QUEST FOR RELEVANCE
largely delegated oversight of the Home Front to the Lord President of the
Council, the Home Front effectively ‘became an adventure playground for
conscripted social scientists’.10
The influx of scholars into wartime policy direction commenced with alacrity
thanks to an admirable amount of foresight and pre-planning. Many men rapidly
found themselves directly involved in the formulation and execution of
government policy, achieving far greater effect than could any repository of
academics writing reports willy-nilly without reference to the issues of
immediate concern to government departments. These professorial types were
also absorbed into intelligence-orientated work beyond that of GC&CS,
including analytical tasks for various research bodies within the government.
One intelligence-veteran turned spy-novelist recalls his first exposure to this sort
of recruit upon reporting to the British Army’s Intelligence Corps depot in
Winchester, where he
hobnobbed with professors of French and German who could write theses
on Trade Unions in the Middle Ages but couldn’t ask a girl out for coffee.
On our second day, a Sunday…[following] the Saturday night dance, the
professors and I were detailed to clean up the abandoned prophylactic
devices as our introduction to security work. This led to much quoting of
Rabelais and Juvenal.11
While those possessing appropriate linguistic faculties plied their trade with the
agents, others found employment among the array of British analytical bodies.
SIS itself maintained no research and analysis unit. The service was instead
divided into Production Sections, having ‘no concern with [the] evaluation of
incoming intelligence’ beyond indicating agent reliability, and Circulating
Sections, that evaluated, screened, and disseminated intelligence for whatever
consumer they dealt with directly. In other words, the Circulating Sections were
‘largely the responsibility of the intelligence consumer, such as War Office or
Admiralty, which placed them [the Circulating Sections] in SIS’. These sections
were essentially concerned with processing data collected by SIS without
reference to other sources, and with funnelling the largely ‘raw’ product to those
who would decide for themselves how best to use it.12
Other branches of government conducted more specialized analyses. The
Ministry of Economic Warfare’s Enemy Branch contained a Damage Assessment
Unit studying the economic impact of Allied strategic bombing based on
collecting and collating relevant intelligence, and advising on further targeting.
The Research and Experiments Department 8 (RE8) of the Ministry of Home
Security was a close partner through its examination of German bombing effects
in Britain. MEW also employed Enemy Resources Departments to study and
produce expert commodities reports relative to the enemy. An Inter-Services
Topographical Department (ISTD) was established in Oxford under Admiralty
administration to process topographical intelligence on a tri-service basis for
AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON 93
producing detailed surveys by country or district, its chief editor being a classics
don. The Foreign Office for its part employed a Foreign Research and Press
Service (FRPS) that evolved into the Foreign Office Research Department, and a
Political Intelligence Department (PID) that provided a cover for the Political
Warfare Executive (PWE). FRPS originally conducted foreign press surveys,
while PID published a weekly secret Political Intelligence Summary with
supplements drawn from research on special topics. FRPS and PID were later
merged to create FORD, which continued its predecessors’ activities, including
issuing special reports at various agencies’ requests. The ‘almost entirely
academic’ staff included Professor Arnold Toynbee, and its special reports and
research were closely linked to the FO’s post-hostilities planning by war’s end.13
British research and analysis relative to intelligence obviously stressed serving
specific customers through the performing of a particular function. The cohorts of
mobilized analysts were employed to serve clearly defined existing needs, and to
provide special research in response to developing demands. The relevance and
influence of their work stemmed directly from their applying skilled research to
meet the pressing requirements of the various wartime ministries and services.
No research department or group tried to be all things to all people, or to beaver
on in splendid isolation from the real requirements of their customers. The
customers were largely able to tailor research staffs themselves without having to
establish ties with an autonomous group of academics pursuing their own
institutional agenda.
While this system could reasonably be expected to have stood as an example
to be emulated by Donovan’s OSS, such was not the case. Part of the problem
lay with the relative vacuum in US pre-war planning. There was no American
equivalent of the British Central Register, and therefore no concerted pre-war
effort to mobilize America’s rich academic resources. Donovan eagerly
presumed to fill this void with his conception of what would become the
Research and Analysis branch of COI-OSS. The Colonel planned for a
concentrated unit of academics serving under him. Scholars were from the
beginning deemed necessary to give intelligence greater substance while
focusing on key strategic and policy questions.14 The original plan for COI’s
analysts envisaged executing functional research through a unit in the Library of
Congress, filtering its product through a supreme Board of Analysts, and thence
to Donovan for the President. This soon proved impractical, due largely to
Donovan’s decision to court an ambivalent Roosevelt instead of serving specific
government departments.15 With OSS’s evolution under the JCS, the original
R&A branch was left to carry the burden of Donovan’s conception by
establishing a reputation for accurate and objective studies. A close examination
of R&A’s evolution in London with specific reference to intelligence reveals the
practical success of this innovation.
Those making up R&A have been termed the ‘bad eyes brigade’ in deference
to their bespectacled contribution to the war effort, and the personalities involved
certainly distinguished the branch from the rest of OSS.16 Ivy League academics
94 R&A/LONDON’S QUEST FOR RELEVANCE
provided many of the earliest recruits, setting a suitably elitist tone for the
branch. This did not impress all observers, however. One R&A underling later
wrote that ‘vanity seemed to rule the whole setup’. The ‘pecking order was
brutal. It was almost an insult to address any one as professor. To a man all those
eligible insisted on being called doctor’, which saw the more irreverent within
OSS referring to R&A/Washington’s building as ‘the medical school’.17
However much they were disdained, these status-conscious analysts were
nevertheless expected to establish R&A’s presence overseas. It was precisely the
elite branch format, however, that would be a source of future complications
since R&A by definition maintained ‘a virtual monopoly of the scholars working
in American intelligence’, whereas it has already been detailed how this was not
the case in ‘the British system, where academics were spread throughout a
number of secret services’. The first R&A representatives in London were thus
confronted with the fundamental task of establishing contacts with such a diffuse
collection of potential British colleagues.18
R&A interests in London were represented until 15 May 1942 by three
members of the Foreign Information Service (FIS), a propaganda section
subsequently hived-off to the Office of War Information (OWI). They were
primarily occupied with establishing cordial relations with Britain’s Ministry of
Information and PID through the flow of information digests, and with the
Political Warfare Executive in obtaining foreign newspapers. Permanent R&A
staff arrived in mid-May, but functioning without a designated branch head made
it harder to approach the British. R&A/London was essentially not integrated
with the other OSS branches, and the absence of an R&A chief obstructed efforts
to measure the branch’s standing within the London mission. This amounted to a
debilitating degree of ‘functional isolation’ in the branch War Diary’s phrase,
which meant that R&A/London was left mostly to its own devices in establishing
firmer links with British agencies, ‘links that varied considerably with the
organization concerned’. As each British agency sought out that portion of OSS
‘which most closely corresponded to its own function, and to establish more or
less exclusive relations with that [branch]’, the fact that R&A did not fit neatly
into any single existing category of British intelligence work made for slow
progress. This was particularly so since R&A was not the only American body
doing, for example, economic or propaganda research. The only recourse for
R&A was thus ‘the flexible policy of allocating and lending personnel at
strategic points’. In the early period, though, R&A/London could only establish
channels and gain access to British agencies through ‘recognized American
opposite numbers’. This was only realistic, and attained the immediate objective
of document procurement ‘rather than any close constant liaison’. The British
were for their part quite willing ‘to gamble on the future with respect of quid pro
quo’, which ‘explained how, with nothing to give, the branch was able to collect
so much material for Washington’.19
The process of securing introductions with representatives of British agencies
as a foundation for subsequent direct requests for information and materials
AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON 95
continued until the end of 1942. Profitable links were initiated with FRPS, MEW,
the JIC (with R&A participating in meetings between the JIC and other
American agencies in London), ISTD, and PWE. Relations with ISTD and PWE
particularly held the possibility of mutually beneficial projects. This situation
contrasted with the tenuous relations between R&A and the other OSS branches
during 1942. This problem was not confined to London, and stemmed from each
branch’s attempt to ‘catch up’ with its British opposite numbers, thus focusing
efforts outside, not inside, OSS. SI was particularly prone to cultivating its
independence, and to pursuing its rivalry with R&A concerning information
collection and processing.20
The R&A-PWE relationship was itself complicated by PWE’s 31 July 1942
recognition of OWI ‘as the normal channel for PWE material’ (with OWI
communicating it to OSS), and by PWE’s reluctance to formalize ties with OSS/
London before PWE understood its own position in the US with OSS/
Washington. There was also some uncertainty within PWE as to what actually
Whitney Phillips’s function was.21 R&A/London was in due course successful in
acquiring texts and information from PWE since these gifts did not involve R&A
in actual propaganda operations. Limited progress was also made with other
British organizations. Geographical handbooks and topographical proofs were
exchanged with the Admiralty, while books were borrowed from the Foreign
Office.22 Contact was made with PID on 30 October, which made R&A/
London’s Allan Evans believe that he might obtain access to PID’s ‘valuable
background sources of information’, including ‘pamphlets and books’ on
Germany and its economy.23 Evans’s enthusiasm was not blunted by the
requirement to ‘sign the most alarming engagements, oaths and promises’,
although he stressed the secrecy of the information so obtained since he preferred
‘to see the inside of the Tower only as a visitor’. The FO had also ‘opened the
mysteries of FRPS’ to the Americans by that date, giving R&A/London ‘the
right to receive the same diet of reports’ as other outsiders, all of which made
Evans feel that the branch had ‘done rather well with the Foreign Office’.24
R&A thus engaged in some rather prosaic activities centred on reaching out to
British departments for information. Far from disappointing R&A’s Washington
superiors, this was in fact completely in line with their expectations. Harvard
historian William Langer assumed overall leadership of R&A in October 1942,
and while he differed from his predecessor (James Baxter) on how best to structure
the branch, he shared Baxter’s view that ‘the purpose of the outposts was to
make [R&A] studies available in the field, [and] to collect and transmit to
Washington intelligence of all kinds that might be valuable’, with some attention
to giving ‘all possible aid to the other parts of the agency and to perform such
functions as might be required by the theater commander’.25 Langer’s focus was
on what outposts like R&A/London could do for R&A/Washington, with only
passing thought given to serving key consumers in the theatres. Langer’s attitude
toward the necessity of establishing close working ties with the British was
equally ambivalent. His views concerning the FRPS material enthused upon by
96 R&A/LONDON’S QUEST FOR RELEVANCE
Evans were communicated to London in December 1942: Langer did not think
that the FRPS data ‘warranted [R&A] dignifying them to the extent of making a
formal request for them’; but if London found them of real importance, and of
bureaucratic political utility, Langer said he ‘might reverse the decision’.26 It was
further believed in Washington that R&A/London should function as an
intelligence source on the British while working as their partner.27 Allan Evans
agreed ‘perfectly’ with the view that ‘work done in London [was] supplemental
to the work done in Washington’.28 Such was the preferred R&A method; ‘the
incoming material was systematically handled, the outposts were kept informed
of home needs, and at least a modicum of direction was supplied’, although in
Langer’s view, ‘much more could and should have been done to provide
guidance and direction’.29
Despite his belief in the need for even stronger direction of London activities
from Washington, Langer was nevertheless ‘astounded to find how little account
was taken of the Branch and its work and how little its chiefs were included in
the inner councils of the organization’ during a trip to London in September
1942.30 He was evidently unable to grasp then (or after the war) the relationship
between the primacy he placed on acquiring data for R&A/Washington, and
R&A/London’s apparent irrelevance to the activities and needs of the other OSS
branches. In light of the aforementioned ‘functional isolation’ of R&A in
London, and Langer’s lukewarm appreciation of R&A/London’s need to
ingratiate itself with similar British organizations as a means of commencing
relevant field work, it is hardly surprising that R&A/London was forever on the
outside looking in. R&A/London’s eternal dilemma was therefore defined early
on as the necessity of satisfying Washington’s demands while trying to work
with disparate British organizations as a means of demonstrating R&A/London’s
bona fides in order to accomplish something concrete in its own right. This
problem also reflected Langer’s belief ‘that if [R&A] could effectively fill a need
[for research and analysis] which certainly existed, customers would eventually
beat a pathway to [its] doors’.31 This helps explain why Langer saw R&A’s first
requirement as being the creation of a super-repository of global intelligence
housed in Washington serviced by outposts whose main duty was to fulfill what
amounted to a post-office role. The London group was accordingly obliged to
function as a conduit for the flow of information, with all other activities
ancillary to that essential task. The branch outposts were not expected to
concentrate on acting as local performers of the R&A mission since head-office
requirements outweighed independent theatre work. The material collected in
London could in theory have served as a data-base from which R&A/London
analysts fashioned reports concerning myriad political, economic, and
geographical subjects. Such reports could then have been used by both ETO
customers and the Washington HQ. Langer, however, did not see it that way.
Collecting and exchanging research materials on behalf of the home office
remained the paramount mission for his London subordinates.
AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON 97
R&A/London was therefore pulled in two directions, with the inherent tension
only increasing with time. Shepard Morgan was appointed London branch head
in January 1943 while R&A as a whole underwent structural reorganization away
from academic disciplines (Economic, Political, Psychological, etc.) toward
geographical areas of collective analysis. It was thus an ideal time for R&A/
London to appraise its situation for the benefit of its new mission chief.32
Chandler Morse of the Enemy Objectives Unit (see Chapter 5) observed in a
meeting between R&A staffers on 14 January that since R&A/London’s sources
were British, and its work with British agencies was available for R&A
dissemination, the branch’s best course of action would be ‘to supplement
deficient British manpower in existing British intelligence agencies’. A
memorandum was accordingly drawn up by Crane Brinton for Morgan on 16
January suggesting future plans. Brinton recommended that
Not everyone agreed with this policy. Allan Evans wrote an addendum to
Brinton’s report questioning that R&A men be put into British agencies simply
to get them to work. Evans argued instead for opening and cultivating contacts
on the basis of inventing research projects in London. A policy of distributing
R&A personnel throughout British units was only justified if R&A work with
British agencies paralleled projects actually under way in R&A/Washington.34
This basic policy conflict would never be resolved. The R&A War Diary puts the
best face on the situation by describing how
both policies were followed simultaneously for the next two years. At no
time did the nucleus of R&A[London’s]…headquarters wholly dissolve…
[T]here was no time when R&A did not have members more or less
completely assigned to work in British agencies. In general…the two
policies were complementary and mutually indispensable. Without a
central working headquarters the infiltrated men would have been of small
direct benefit to the R&A Branch [in Washington], but it was largely
through these same men that the central office gained access to the most
important sources of information.35
The War Diary nicely encapsulates the nature and permanence of the branch’s
predicament. Given OWI’s first claim on PWE, R&A could only collaborate on
producing Civil Affairs Handbooks designed to provide information to the
98 R&A/LONDON’S QUEST FOR RELEVANCE
The ‘cloak and dagger boys’ felt that the ‘long-haired’ researchists were
owlishly impractical with regard to existing situations and were
insufficiently schooled on security. On the other hand, the researchists felt
that the operations people were rashly eager to ‘get something done right
away’, disregarded the necessity for basic knowledge as controlling action,
and therefore made disastrous mistakes. From the first there was no useful
contact between the two points of view.
The operations people did see some need for basic information.
However, they distrusted the regional specialists of R&A and therefore
tried to build up their own information resources. They were blessed with
greater financial flexibility and were thus able to add their own
researchists, who duplicated much of the work done in R&A. This
AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON 99
R&A was thus so ‘functionally isolated’ from the rest of OSS that its very job
was being usurped by other branches. Far from standing as the apotheosis of
intelligence analysis within OSS, R&A was evidently unable to meet the
operational branches’ requirements, leading those branches to do the job
themselves. Langer moreover could not see how his own branch’s fixation with
shuffling data to Washington was executed at the expense of serving customers
within OSS/London. All of David Bruce’s references to R&A in his
correspondence with Donovan during this period make no mention of how R&A
could be integrated with the rest of OSS, although he again speaks approvingly
of R&A’s ‘infiltration’ of British agencies.41 R&A was thus still confined to a
frustrating bridesmaid role throughout 1943.
Events became even more confused in 1944. R&A/London under-went a
significant personnel expansion prior to OVERLORD as part of Washington’s
new recognition of London’s potential during January– February 1944. This
itself created strains between Washington and London which were only resolved
when a new theatre branch chief was appointed. R&A/London had reconciled
itself to fulfilling Washington’s limited expectations, particularly since a more
involved role was precluded by the existence of ‘extremely able people’ from
OWI, the American Embassy, and the US Army ‘whose talents would have to be
used’ in the Strategic Intelligence Branch of G-2, ETOUSA. Since Morgan had
returned to the US because of ill health the preceding September, R&A/London
Acting Chief Crane Brinton believed that his colleagues had to avoid aiming too
high, instead serving military plans by continuing ‘to be in large part a sort of
information bureau—an exalted information bureau maybe, but still an
information bureau’. This suggestion was in keeping with R&A/London’s
structure and experience up to that point, but Langer soon threw a wrench into
this conception. Washington decided without consulting London directly that the
main branch Headquarters of R&A should be moved to London to exploit
opportunities arising from the prospective Normandy invasion, an idea which
merely demonstrated the gulf between the two.42 David Bruce received a letter
from Langer on 3 February explaining that R&A/ London had to undergo a shift
in emphasis from military planning studies toward post-hostilities work, chiefly
military government and civil affairs. All new staff reinforcements were to avoid
dispersal, and act as integrated units on ‘a few major objectives’.43
Such grandiose plans excited hopes among London analysts for increased
action in their theatre, but they were soon tainted by the discovery of an
intemperate letter sent to Washington on 4 January by Carl Schorske outlining
his views on R&A/London’s track-record. Schorske alleged that R&A/London
‘had been established with no clear function or direction’ from Washington in
mere imitation of other branches who were creating London outposts. Without
any clear objective, R&A/London then allowed itself to be exploited by various
100 R&A/LONDON’S QUEST FOR RELEVANCE
‘persuasive British agencies’ for personnel before finally acting as a more useful
‘service unit for varied American customers’. London was nevertheless still
engaged in ‘piddling and insignificant commitments’ in early 1944.
Schorske went on to blame London’s inadequate leadership, and the outpost’s
‘chaotic history’, for involving R&A/London ‘in many commitments’ which
prevented the branch from welding its activities into a ‘unified program’. He was
obviously unaware of the necessity of working with the British as a means of
satisfying Washington’s information demands, and therefore oblivious both to
the dilemma facing his London superiors, and to the dual policy response
formulated by Brinton for Morgan. Schorske’s description of the pedestrian and
often irrelevant nature of most R&A/London activities was at least accurate, but
he failed to identify the true cause, that being Washington’s vision of London as
a data-collecting outpost, which handicapped London’s ability to provide
meaningful direct service to anyone in the ETO. Schorske also failed to
recognize the reality that R&A-British links were necessary for performing
either role. Brinton had himself ‘detected behind [Langer’s reorganization]
memorandum a feeling that R&A/L should be in contact with higher echelons
and exert an influence upon policy planning’. Brinton and ‘Allan Evans agreed
that expectations of this sort rested upon a misunderstanding of conditions in the
theatre’, and both subsequently replied to Schorske’s memorandum in that
vein.44 Brinton particularly detailed London’s two-policy approach, and
informed Langer directly that ‘[n]o one from…Schorske’s position…could
possibly be aware of the difficulties and delicacies of our work here’.45 Evans
detailed errors of fact in Schorske’s memo, and later pointedly replied to
Schorske with a personal letter suggesting a subtitle for his piece: ‘Jaundice in an
Ivory Tower’.46 Langer eventually proffered an apology of sorts to Brinton on 7
February, but the basic misunderstandings remained unresolved.47
The arrival of Harold Deutsch (the addressee of Schorske’s memo) from
Washington in February was intended to effect that resolution through various
administrative conferences, and by rationalizing R&A/London’s personnel
assignments and structure consistent with the geographic reorganization of R&A
as a whole. This programme still required maintaining links with the British, but
precluded ‘dispersing’ R&A/London staff to other agencies working for the
military in the field, and necessarily isolated R&A from the military’s
increasingly defining influence with the rest of OSS. Deutsch also negotiated a
freer exchange of intelligence with SI (see Chapter 5, p. 145), but he could not
overcome R&A/London’s exclusion from OSS/London’s operational planning
for OVERLORD.48 Hard on the heels of these developments was Chandler
Morse’s appointment as R&A/London’s permanent chief in place of Brinton,
ostensibly because Langer did not have confidence in Brinton’s administrative
abilities.49
R&A/London’s actual work programme now focused on serving the
information demands of SHAEF’s Civil Affairs’s numerous sections by
answering their ‘various factual questions’. It also concentrated personnel in the
AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON 101
British PID (tasked with weekly political intelligence reports; see above), but
PID subsequently played a disappointingly small role relative to SHAEF after D-
Day. New work was also done appraising and interpreting European economic
and political trends with a mind to civil affairs and post-hostilities applications.
The resulting European Political Reports (EPR) were deemed particularly
significant within R&A/London since they utilized all branch divisions in an
integrated application of analytical talent, and they were apparently well received
by the embryonic military government formed for the occupation of Germany
(see below pp. 114–15).50 A particularly anti-climactic contribution to
OVERLORD concerned R&A’s formal tasking as OSS/London’s post-invasion
‘channel for relations with G-5 [Civil Affairs] SHAEF’; but despite R&A/
London’s previous March 1944 realization that their people had to work closely
with PWE in ‘real joint teams’ so that evaluations of liberated populations for
SHAEF would not be made ‘exclusively by PWE’, it was clear by July that R&A
could not produce the requisite personnel for such work.51 Deutsch told Langer
as much on 3 July, stressing the consequent failure to secure an intimate
relationship with SHAEF’s Political Warfare Division.52 This did not stop R&A/
London from subsequently making the odd claim that
[o]utlets for the work of the Research and Analysis Branch in ETO
continued to develop rapidly during July. In order not to dissipate the
Branch energies in too many directions, …a work program [was] designed
toward a maximum contribution of R&A intelligence to bodies responsible
for formulating military and political policy within ETO. Complete and
satisfactory arrangements with the more important of these policy bodies
so that they look upon R&A as one of their principal research staffs had
not been made at month’s end. However, steady progress toward this goal
was realized [sic].53
As for R&A’s relationship with the rest of OSS, some changes developed in the
OVERLORD period. The prospect of close ties to the Morale Operations branch
in its propaganda work fizzled out due to MO’s failure to make significant
headway (see Chapter 7, pp. 205–9), but an SI-R&A ‘curb service’ was
established in July. This gave R&A access to SI intelligence, while R&A agreed
to create ‘an efficient routine for handling requests from SI field detachments
which R&A [was] especially qualified to fill’. This latter development heralded a
degree of SI-R&A cooperation that would culminate in a joint intelligence
processing unit late in the war (see Chapter 5, pp. 145–8).54
The post-OVERLORD period gave R&A/London one more opportunity to
carve a niche in ETO after its relationship with SHAEF G-5 failed to take off.
Langer had identified continental and post-hostilities work as definite planning
objectives in February 1944, and the post-invasion period was considered
especially ideal for dispatching R&A teams to report on local populations.55
R&A particularly desired representation in the OSS ETO Forward Headquarters
102 R&A/LONDON’S QUEST FOR RELEVANCE
the branch’s ‘effort at both strategic and tactical levels [was]…dissipated due to
the necessity for finding markets rather than meeting an existing demand’.64
Langer himself conceded that R&A studies often failed to reach those they
should have, and that he himself should have done more to ‘solicit customers’;
but since it was not in his nature to do so, he patiently waited for customers ‘to
beat a pathway to [R&A’s] doors’.65 Achieving this objective was itself
problematic in light of the branch’s eccentricities when viewed from outside. A
member of the US Joint Intelligence Staff once bluntly pointed out that
The writer went on to note that provided R&A got rid of such people, their work
would fulfil a useful role.66
This emphasizes the critical importance of identifying just who R&A could
serve—both in London and in Washington—and how best it could serve them,
but in a letter to the chief OSS historian, R&A/London’s Crane Brinton specified
many of the complications experienced in attempting to do this. The first of these
was poor liaison with Washington. London’s feeling that it was misunderstood
by Washington, and Washington’s view that the outpost was ‘wayward and
indifferent to home needs’, were natural but too prevalent. There were also
problems ‘centering around the difficulties of a brand-new agency, with a job not
quite like any previous American agency, in getting the materials it was set up to
get’. The cost of fulfilling that task ‘was a certain abandonment’ of R&A
independence since it had to ‘infiltrate’ men into PWE, et al. A related problem
Brinton ‘found hardest to solve, and which [he] solved in a way not altogether
pleasing to Donovan and Langer’, concerned that of concentration versus
dispersal of personnel. R&A/London was forced by circumstance to be nearer
the pole of dispersion than the pole of independence; ‘[i]n fact, though this was
one of [London’s] big misunderstandings with Washington’, London felt it could
only operate in the ETO if it gave ‘a quid pro quo for materials—for
“intelligence”—in actual manpower’. R&A-PWE relations depended entirely on
R&A giving manpower. R&A/London’s biggest problem, however, involved
whether it ‘should try to horn in as much as possible on the dignified work of
“planning”’, or whether it should be content ‘with doing the less spectacular
work of grinding out the often petty details of research’. Brinton described his
experience this way:
104 R&A/LONDON’S QUEST FOR RELEVANCE
Brinton’s recipe for R&A success was clear: establish a convincing track-record
by giving available consumers the material they wanted, thereby proving R&A’s
value, and building from there. The links established with the British were by
implication ideal, and indeed necessary, prerequisites for accomplishing this.
Such links opened up sources of information to be analysed, and they gave R&A
a foundation of work to build on. Brinton’s strategy was also for the most part a
mirror image of the British research and analysis model discussed earlier, which
itself involved serving specific customers to the customers’ satisfaction, rather
than pursuing self-aggrandizement. R&A/London, however, often ended up
producing material in isolation from existing theatre requirements which it
believed consumers would flock to (e.g., political and economic trends reports).
That tendency proved most unrealistic in light of the gulf between what the
‘social scientists thought they could do and what policy-makers were prepared to
let them do’;68 Brinton noted that R&A ‘was even at best…somewhat of a
parvenu’ in its relations with the US Embassy, G-2 ETOUSA, and G-2 SHAEF.
69 R&A thus failed to reconcile its pretensions with the reality of military
AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON 105
primacy in the ETO (which made the sword mightier than the pen), and to
content itself with the more humble lot of working with British agencies in
support of predominantly military requirements (Katz conversely attributes R&A/
London’s difficulties to a dearth of the ‘administrative ruthlessness’ necessary
for functioning in London’s proverbial ‘intelligence brothel’).70
However telling his observations, though, Brinton only hints at the larger
reason for R&A/London’s failure to fulfil its potential. The essential conflict
between Washington’s view of R&A/London’s fundamental purpose, and the
circumstances and opportunities facing the London analysts, effectively pre-
empted any chance of their functioning according to Brinton’s philosophy. R&A/
London was time and again expected to subordinate the execution of a distinct
service role within the theatre to the post-office duty Washington desired. The
London unit was therefore obliged to miss the opportunity to entrench itself in its
own right. Given this isolation from the other branches of OSS/London, and from
closer links with potential customers, the bulk of R&A/London was effectively
rendered irrelevant to any serious intelligence function in the ETO. It was more a
sidelight to meaningful intelligence processing than the shining embodiment of
it, as indicated by its estrangement from both G-2 SHAEF and from the
intelligence work of OSS itself.
The Assistant Chief of R&A/London’s Map Division articulated the problem
best in November 1944. Lieutenant (jg) Robert M.Coffin argued that virtually
‘all the detailed difficulties…faced at the outpost could have been traced to one
basic point, namely that there seem[ed] to be a lack of a real intelligence
philosophy in OSS’, resulting in no ‘established concept of intelligence work’.
This meant that a
Most culpable in Coffin’s view was the fact that since no clear idea existed as to
R&A’s precise intelligence function, ‘there was no clear idea as to the type of
work which needed doing by R&A when it arrived on the continental scene’. It
was ‘confused as to the big concept of a well-rounded intelligence program, and
how it could be pushed forward’ after OVERLORD. ‘Continental Operations
finally took on the appearance of an Oklahoma homesteading rush with…people
poised on the line waiting for the gun in order to get into France’ to stake out
their claims.71
The lack of a clear intelligence concept essentially explains it all, and this
crippling confusion emanated from the top down. Donovan could only articulate
the general idea that R&A scholars were to revolutionize intelligence processing,
106 R&A/LONDON’S QUEST FOR RELEVANCE
while leaving the specifics of how exactly they were to accomplish that goal to
William Langer. It has been shown that Langer was consistently obtuse in his
grasp of the circumstances and opportunities confronting the London outpost,
primarily because there was no appreciation of how R&A could function best—
in effect, no intelligence philosophy. Langer was a scholar after all, not a
professional intelligence officer. Langer saw R&A’s birthright as one of
collecting data, writing it up, and basking in the reputation automatically secured
by the self-evident brilliance of the analysis. He did not fully grasp that R&A had
to earn its place in the intelligence sun, and that doing so would require knowing
precisely what its primarily military consumers wanted, and delivering it. This
shortcoming was the main obstacle for R&A/London since R&A/Washington’s
conception of London as little more than a conduit providing information for the
home-office analysts impinged irrevocably on the chances of Langer’s London
subordinates making the most of their situation. R&A/London was thus largely
reduced to an absurd shadow of what it could have been.
R&A/Washington’s fate was little better, since Langer’s own memoir notes
that he did not do enough to solicit customers, and was generally too passive to
realize R&A’s potential.72 There was, moreover, never any indication to London
concerning what specific needs were being met by its information gathering, no
statement of direction concerning specific consumer needs that had to be met by
R&A/Washington for the JCS, or the President, or the State Department. It was all
simply about gathering information. If Langer subsequently encountered greater
success as an intelligence chief in the post-war Central Intelligence Agency, it
owed much to some obvious distinctions between CIA and OSS. Unlike the
situation he faced in the Donovan organization, Langer’s experience of the CIA
was shaped by the fact that the CIA answered directly to the President; that it
enjoyed a monopoly on high level analysis and assessments; that no parallel
analytical function was haphazardly set up in CIA outposts; and that CIA
analysts were not dependent on forging links with US military commanders, nor
on the necessity of accommodating an ally’s fragmented analysis system. In
short, the CIA had a more sophisticated intelligence concept than OSS and R&A
ever did, and its responsibilities and chain of command were much clearer and
more rationalized than those of OSS. Langer was evidently better equipped to
manage the postwar American system than he was the OSS version. The thesis
of R&A relevance and uniqueness thus stands unproved. The conception of
academics as natural intelligence analysts failed to develop in OSS/London given
the lack of a working intelligence concept. If anything, this view of academics is
more descriptive of the British experience.73
Notwithstanding the generally unproved assumptions about R&A/London, two
of its offshoots have the reputation of being particularly effective. In cooperation
with entities outside R&A, these units engaged in work that shows research and
analysis applied directly to intelligence tasks, and presumably vindicated the
RScA experiment. The extent to which these applications of R&A talent
validated the concept of scholars as intelligence officers thus invites detailed
AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON 107
NOTES
1. See the transcript of Anthony Cave Brown’s interview with O.C. Doering, Jr, n.d.,
Tape #7, pp. 109–10, and transcript of A.C.Brown interview with William Colby,
17 August 1980, pp. 11–12, both in the Donovan Papers, USAMHI; R.H.Smith,
OSS, p. 13.
2. ‘Enormous’ remark made by Barry Katz at the 11–12 July 1991 US National
Archives conference, The Secrets War: The OSS in World War II’, cited in
MacPherson, ‘Conference Report’, p. 514; powerful, effective, smoking gun, from
Winks, Cloak, pp. 62–3, 112, 114—see also Winks, ‘Stuff, p. 28.
3. Bernard David Rifkind, ‘OSS and Franco-American Relations: 1942–1945’, PhD
dissertation, George Washington University, 1983, p. 302.
4. R.H.Smith, OSS, p. 13.
5. Quotes from Winks, Cloak, pp. 62–4, 71–2, 77–82, 111–15.
6. Troy, Donovan, pp. 84–5, 100.
7. B.F.Smith, Shadow, pp. 77, 360–1.
8. Katz, Foreign, passim.
9. Leonard W.Doob, ‘The Utilization of Social Scientists in the Overseas Branch of
the Office of War Information’, The American Political Science Review 41, 4
(August 1947), p. 649.
10. This paragraph is drawn from Peter Hennessy, Whitehall (London: Fontana, 1990),
pp. 88–92, 94–5, 97, 100–3, 111; on GC&CS recruitment, see also Andrew,
‘Hinsley’, in Langhorne (ed.), Diplomacy, pp. 32–3.
11. Ted Allbeury, ‘Memoirs of an Ex-Spy’, in Dilys Winn (ed.), Murder Ink: The
Mystery Reader’s Companion (New York: Workman Publishing, 1977), p. 165.
12. Jackson report on ‘The British Intelligence System’, pp. 22, 24–7, 33, USAMHI.
13. Ibid., pp. 66, 69–76; for detail on RE8, see the correspondence of Seymour Janow
in Folder ‘Seymour Janow’, Box 2, Entry 77, and C.P.Kindleberger to Col
R.Hughes, 5 April 1943, Folder 94, Box 8, Entry 145; both in RG 226, NARA.
14. Katz, Foreign, pp. xiii, 5–8, 17–21; Katz, ‘Development’, in Chalou (ed.), Secrets,
pp. 43–4.
15. B.F.Smith, Shadow, pp. 73–7, 360–80.
16. Winks, ‘Stuff, in Chalou (ed.), Secrets, p. 20.
17. Alcorn, Bugles, p. 75—cf. Winks, Cloak, pp. 77–8.
18. B.F.Smith, Shadow, pp. 361–2.
19. This paragraph is drawn from ‘War Diary, R&A, Vol. 1’, pp. 1–3, 5–8, 10–12, 16–
18, frames 270–2, 274–7, 279–81, 285–7; see also the memo by ‘JDW’ (John
D.Wilson), 19 June 1942, frames 843–6, Reel 102, and the memo by Allan Evans,
The Work of R&A in London’, 22 June 1942, frames 837–9, Reel 102, all in Entry
95; see also Whitney to James P.Baxter, 9 February 1942; Fisher Howe to Baxter
and Langer, 15 April 1942; Howe to Baxter, 16 June 1942; memo and letter Wilson
to Baxter, 18 June 1942; all in Folder 1824, Box 128, Entry 146; John D.Wilson
memo, 19 June 1942, Folder 94, Box 8, Entry 145, and Wilson to Emile Despres,
21 July 1942, Folder 1302, Box 8, Entry 146; all in RG 226, NARA.
108 R&A/LONDON’S QUEST FOR RELEVANCE
20. ‘War Diary, R&A, Vol. 1’, pp. 19–21, 39–45, 54–6, 77–91, frames 288–90, 308–
14, 324–6, 354–68; J.D.Wilson, ‘Future Liaison of COI With English
Organizations Engaged in Economic Intelligence’, 11 May 1942, and Wilson to
Baxter, 20 June 1942, both in Folder 1824, Box 128, Entry 146; for a proposal on
working with FRPS, see Allan Evans to Phillips, 26 October 1942, and for an
example of informa tion obtained by the JIC and passed to Washington, see Evans
to Wilson, Note by Air Pouch, n.d. (c. January 1943), both in Folder 94, Box 8,
Entry 145; on early exchanges with SI, see ‘Report of Joint R&A/SA/B Committee
on R&A’, dated simply October 1942, Folder 1838, Box 129, Entry 146; see also
‘Interview with Mr Allan Evans, R&A’, 6 February 1945, Folder 342, Box 224,
Entry 190; all in RG 226, NARA.
21. Minutes of PWE-OWI Meetings, 31 July and 6 August 1942, FO 898/104—see
also PWE Meeting of the Propaganda Policy Committee, 4 August 1942, FO 898/
13; all in PRO.
22. ‘War Diary, SSO, Relations with British’, p. 38.
23. Evans to William Langer, 30 October 1942, Folder 94, Box 8, Entry 145; see also
Allan Evans, ‘OSS R&A/London’, 16 November 1942, Folder 1302, Box 8, Entry
146; both in RG 226, NARA.
24. Evans to Langer, 25 November 1942 (the reference must be to the Official Secrets
Act), with attached ‘Report on PID’, Folder 94, Box 8, Entry 145; see also Evans to
Phillips, 3 September 1942, in ‘War Diary, OSS/London, R&A Branch, Vol. 12,
Basic Documents’, pp. 9–13, frames 40–4, Reel 4, Entry 95; both in RG 226,
NARA.
25. Langer’s comments in ‘The Research and Analysis Branch’, 1 March 1947, pp. 21–
2, attached to Langer to Kermit Roosevelt, 5 March 1947, Folder 666, Box 48,
Entry 146, RG 226, NARA.
26. John D.Wilson, European Theatre Reports Officer, R&A/Washington to Allan
Evans, 10 December 1942, Folder 94, Box 8, Entry 145, RG 226, NARA.
27. John D.Wilson, European Theatre Reports Officer, R&A/Washington to Allan
Evans, 24 December 1942, Folder 94, Box 8, Entry 145, RG 226, NARA.
28. Evans to Wilson, 17 November 1942, Folder 1302, Box 8, Entry 146, RG 226,
NARA.
29. Langer, ‘Research’, pp. 21–2; see also the report by William Applebaum on his trip
to London over December 1942–January 1943 in ‘War Diary, R&A, Vol. 12’, pp.
15–99, frames 146–245, RG 226, NARA; see also B.F.Smith, Shadow, pp. 367–8.
30. Langer, ‘Research’, p. 13.
31. William L.Langer, In and Out of the Ivory Tower (New York: Neale Watson,
1977), p. 188.
32. Langer, ‘Research’, pp. 7–18; ‘Interviews with Drs Langer, McKay and Brinton’,
15 November 1946, pp. 1–2, Folder 666, Box 48, Entry 146; ‘War Diary, OSS/
London, R&A Branch, Vol. 2, Early Period of Independent Operations’, pp. 1–2,
frames 384–5, Reel 3, Entry 95; both in RG 226, NARA.
33. ‘War Diary, R&A, Vol. 2’, pp. 6–8, frames 389–91.
34. Evans addendum to Brinton memo, Folder ‘Basic Documents’, Box 1, Entry 75,
RG 226, NARA.
35. ‘War Diary, R&A, 2’, p. 8; see also Morse to William Hall, 27 January 1943,
Folder ‘Washington Letters’, Box 2, Entry 77; for a list of R&A/London personnel
AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON 109
at this time, see Robert H.Alcorn to Donovan, 6 January 1943, Folder 2299, Box
152, Entry 146; both in RG 226, NARA; see also Katz, Foreign, pp. 22–3.
36. ‘War Diary, R&A, 2’, pp. 21–3, 34, frames 404–6, 417; Brinton to Langer, 26
March 1943, and Conyers Read to Langer, 22 February 1943, both in Folder 1302,
Box 87, Entry 146; Morgan to Langer, 11 and 18 August 1943, Folder 94, Box 8,
Entry 145; all in RG 226, NARA.
37. Wilson to Morgan, 21 January 1943, Folder 94, Box 8, Entry 145; cable, Langer to
Morgan, 17 July 1943, Folder 2306, Box 153, Entry 146; for an interesting
descrip tion of work with ISTD, see J.A.Barnes to Langer, 29 March 1943, Folder
1302, Box 87, Entry 146—see also Shepard Morgan to Langer, 16 July 1943,
Folder 94, Box 8, Entry 145; all in RG 226, NARA.
38. Langer to Morgan, 22 October 1943; see also Langer to Shepard Morgan, 31 July
1943, both in Folder 94, Box 8, Entry 145; for detail on Civil Affairs, see ‘War
Diary, R&A, Vol. 2’, pp. 49–52, frames 432–5, and frames 689–767, Reel 102,
Entry 95; see also R&A Branch Operations Report, London, 1 March 1943, Folder
1, Box 1, Entry 99, R&A Operations Report No. 2, 15 March 1943, Folder 1302,
Box 8, Entry 146, and Progress Reports dated 15 April, 1 and 15 December 1943, all
in Folder 94, Box 8, Entry 145; see Langer’s memo to James Grafton Rogers, 5
May 1943, Folder 35, Box 3, Entry 145, which highlights London’s collection of
data for Washington ‘as a model illustration of what R&A is capable of doing in a
Theatre’; cf. William Koren to Langer, 10 December 1943, Folder ‘Koren, Lt
William’, Box 2, Entry 74; all in RG 226, NARA.
39. Langer to R&A Division and Section Chiefs, 17 July 1943, citing a passage from
Bruce’s letter to Col G.Edward Buxton, 19 June 1943, (itself in Folder 39, Box 24,
Entry 92), Folder 33, Box 3, Entry 145, RG 226, NARA.
40. John A.Wilson, ‘The Regional Specialist in OSS’, p. 2, attached to Wilson to
Langer, 17 May 1943, Folder 33, Box 3, Entry 145, RG 226, NARA.
41. Bruce first referred to the ‘successful efforts to infiltrate R&A men into various
British organizations’ in a letter to Donovan, 20 March 1943, frame 99, and did so
again in another letter to Buxton, 18 September 1943, frame 188, both in Reel 39—
his other references to R&A in this correspondence are in frames 76, 81, 87, 104,
110, 118, and 127–8 for the period February–May 1943, all in Reel 39; all in Entry
190, RG 226, NARA; on Bruce’s attitude to R&A, see also Arthur Schlesinger, Jr,
‘The London Operation: Recollections of a Historian’, in Chalou (ed.), Secrets, p.
65.
42. The foregoing is drawn from ‘War Diary, OSS/London, R&A Branch, Vol. 3,
January 1944–September 1944’, pp. 1, 5–8, frames 448, 453–6, Reel 3, Entry 95,
RG 226, NARA.
43. Langer’s memo to Bruce, 20 January 1944, Folder ‘London 1944’, Box 17, Entry 1;
see also Langer to Bruce, 18 January 1944, Folder 1219, Box 84, Entry 146,
decrying the lack of political reporting from London; both RG 226, NARA.
44. The foregoing is from ‘War Diary, R&A, Vol. 3’, pp. 11–15, frames 459–63; the
Schorske memo to Harold Deutsch, 4 January 1944, ‘Outpost-Home Office
Relations’, and ‘Notes by Allan Evans on the memorandum concerning R&A,
London Outpost, written by C.E.Schorske on 4 January 1944, for H.C.Deutsch’, 22
January 1944, are both in Folder ‘London 1944’, Box 17, Entry 1, RG 226, NARA.
45. Brinton to Langer, 22 January 1944, Folder ‘London 1944’, Box 17, Entry 1, RG
226, NARA.
110 R&A/LONDON’S QUEST FOR RELEVANCE
46. Evans’s reply to Schorske, 21 January 1944, Folder ‘Schorske, Carl’, Box 4, Entry
75, RG 226, NARA.
47. Langer to Brinton, 7 February 1944, Folder 2317, Box 155, Entry 146; see also
‘Europe-Africa Division Outpost Letter No. 4’, 3 March 1944, Folder
‘Communications to Outposts’, Box 1, Entry 39, and J.E.Sawyer to Morse, 22 July
1944, concerning support for the idea of centralizing research in Washington, and
being served by the outposts, Folder ‘London letters out, 1/6/44–5/8/44’, Box 4,
Entry 52; all in RG 226, NARA; see also B.F.Smith, Shadow, p. 368—cf. Katz,
Foreign, pp. 171–2.
48. See Deutsch to Langer, 23 March 1944, Folder 1173, Box 82, Entry 146, RG 226,
NARA; ‘War Diary, R&A, Vol. 3’, pp. 16–26, frames 464–75.
49. Langer to Bruce, and Langer to Brinton, both 26 February 1944, both in Folder
1219, Box 84, Entry 146, RG 226, NARA; cf. Schlesinger, ‘Historian’, in Chalou
(ed.), Secrets, p. 63.
50. ‘War Diary, R&A, Vol. 3’, pp. 30–44, frames 480–93; ETO Officers Pouch
Report, 14 February 1944, quoting cable No. 21641 of 8 February, Langer to R&A/
London, which states that the branch should serve Civil Affairs and SHAEF’s
Psychological Warfare Bureau ‘as a unified research staff, in Folder 35, Box 8,
Entry 99, RG 226, NARA.
51. G-5 channel from ETO Officers Pouch Report, 29 June 1944, Folder 38, Box 9; on
still-born joint work for SHAEF and July developments, see: Brinton to Bruce,
R&A Branch Progress Report, 1 March 1944, Folder 2, Box 1; ETO Officers
Pouch Report, 3 July 1944, Folder 39, Box 9; all in Entry 99, RG 226, NARA.
52. Deutsch to Langer, 3 July 1944, Folder 39, Box 9, Entry 99, RG 226, NARA.
53. OSS Activities Report for July 1944, Folder 117, Box 93, Entry 99, RG 226,
NARA.
54. On MO, see Deutsch to Langer, 27 May and 13 June 1944, both in Folder 667, Box
48, Entry 146; on SI, see Morse to Bruce, R&A Progress Report, 7 July 1944,
Folder 3, Box 2, Entry 99; all in RG 226, NARA.
55. For R&A teams, see Morse’s proposal to Colonel J.R. Forgan, 4 May 1944, and on
post-war plans, ‘Objectives of long-range intelligence organization’, 29 May 1944,
both in Folder 1235, Box 84; for Langer’s early thoughts on planning for work in
post-war Germany, see Langer to Donovan, 15 March 1944, Folder 2318, Box 155;
all in Entry 146, RG 226, NARA.
56. Morse to Langer, 7 July 1944, Folder 1235, Box 84, Entry 146; see also ‘Field
Programme of the Intelligence Services Staff, R&A/ETO (Forward)’, 21 February
1945, Folder 1032, Box 273, Entry 190; both in RG 226, NARA.
57. Morse to Langer, 17 July 1944, Folder 1235, Box 84, Entry 146; see also Langer to
Bruce, 9 October 1944, Folder 1219, Box 84, Entry 146; cf. The Work Program of
R&A/L’, 3 August 1944, in ‘War Diary, R&A, Vol. 12, pp. 150–8, frames 277–86;
see also ‘War Diary, OSS/London, R&A Branch, Vol. 3, (ii), General
Development and Planning, Oct.–Dec. 1944’, pp. 189–203, frames 642–56, Reel 3,
Entry 95; all in RG 226, NARA; see B.F.Smith, Shadow, pp. 374–5, on R&A
relevance; cf. Katz, Foreign, pp. 82–4, and Schlesinger, ‘Historian’, in Chalou
(ed.), Secrets, pp. 64–5.
58. ‘Achievements of the R&A Branch During the Past Year, 23 April 1945, Folder
‘Achievements of R&A’, Box 12, Entry 1, RG 226, NARA.
AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON 111
59. ETO Officers Pouch Report, 14 August 1944, quoting Depres to Morse for Starr, 7
August, Folder 39, Box 9, Entry 99, RG 226, NARA.
60. Wilson to Langer, 27 February 1945, Folder ‘ETO’, Box 1, Entry 39, which also
contains memoranda on R&A work during the post-hostilities period for the
Control Council, as does Folder ‘Germany’, Box 16, Entry 1; both RG 226,
NARA.
61. Norman Pearson, Acting Chief, X-2/ETO to Morse, 13 January 1945, Folder 1165,
Box 280, Entry 190, RG 226, NARA.
62. Langer ‘Directive on R&A objectives and Organization in Europe (Revised)’, 29
January 1945, Folder ‘ETO Activities of R&A—Plans and Suggestions’, Box 1,
Entry 39; for a list of R&A/London members in December 1944, see ‘War Diary,
OSS/London, R&A Branch, Vol. 11, Personnel Roster’, pp. 1–35, frames 84–119,
Reel 4, Entry 95; both in RG 226, NARA; see also Katz, Foreign, pp. 78–80.
63. See the outline of the history of R&A/London, n.d., Folder 1235, Box 84, Entry
146, RG 226, NARA.
64. ETO Officers Pouch Report, 26 July 1944, quoting Robinson to Morse, 17
July, Folder 39, Box 9, Entry 99, RG 226, NARA.
65. Langer, Tower, pp. 187–8; see also Winks, Cloak, pp. 75–6.
66. Lt-Cdr Gilbert P.Simons to S.E.Gleason, 28 August 1943, Folder 961, Box 69,
Entry 146, RG 226, NARA.
67. Brinton to Conyers Read, 19 December 1944, Folder 61c #1, Box 15, Entry 99, RG
226, NARA.
68. Doob, ‘Utilization’, p. 649.
69. Brinton to Read, 19 December 1944.
70. Katz, Foreign, p. 172.
71. Coffin Field Report, 2 November 1944, Folder 46c, Box 12, Entry 99, RG 226,
NARA.
72. Langer, Tower, p. 188.
73. Cf. B.F.Smith, Shadow, pp. 370–1, 376–8, for a less critical assessment of Langer;
cf. Winks, Cloak, p. 61 on CIA, p. 64 on R&A arrogance.
5
Falling Short of the Target: EOU, SIRA, and
the Pitfalls of R&A
The British were indeed confronted with the target selection problem in 1939. A
targeting organization was immediately required to analyse the German
economy, search for the most vulnerable ‘target systems’ and targets within
those systems, and so help employ the RAF’s limited striking power.5
The organization responsible for this task in the first instance was the Ministry
of Economic Warfare. The role of MEW’s Enemy Branch ‘in regard to
bombing’ was defined for the new Commander-in-Chief RAF Bomber
Command in 1942 as providing target information, as assessing the vulnerability
of different targets to attack, and as determining the effect of those attacks on the
German war effort.6 The high degree of uncertainty about Germany’s real
economic position at war’s outbreak coloured the Enemy Branch’s analyses and
recommendations, however. MEW found ‘it difficult to reconcile the puzzling,
but often very explicit, evidence of German deficiencies and improvisations with
the…overwhelming success of German military operations in 1939 and 1940’,
which MEW credited to ‘thorough and ruthless’ planning for a war economy
presumably running at fever pitch. This was an erroneous conception of an
enemy economy far from complete mobilization, but it led MEW to conclude in
1939 that commodity control through blockade would cause Germany’s
economic breakdown by starving the admittedly adequate industrial base of its
assumed peak consumption of raw materials.7 The stunning events of May—
June 1940 forced MEW to abandon hopes of victory by simple blockade
(particularly as Germany’s recent territorial acquisitions and pact with Russia
largely ameliorated the strength of economic warfare), and to focus on
destroying supplies of key commodities, most notably oil.8 Oil was accordingly
regarded as a prime target for RAF Bomber Command’s attacks in 1940, but two
114 AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON
enemy would have to pack up’. The RAF’s earlier experience engendered little
faith in the idea of defeating Germany through destroying allegedly key
industries, which then turned it to night bombing against industrial centres
themselves (i.e., cities). Britain thus felt forced by over-whelming circumstances
to adopt night bombing, which itself imposed the necessity of area targeting as
the most suitable means of disrupting Germany’s economy.14 As one American
analyst put it,
[a]rea bombing has not sprung full blown from the mind of a military
theorist; …it is a technique evolved from experience and determined in part
by the machines, instruments, and weapons available for air attack…
It is a mistake to suppose that the entire evolution of the British air arm
has been directed toward increasing the efficiency and effectiveness of area
bombing. The more correct view is probably that, given the stage of
aircraft development, the British believe that they can affect the German
war machine more by directing their attack by night against the whole of a
built-up area than they could achieve on German war potential by directing
their air force against particular industrial objectives… [T]his calculus has
as its basis the evaluation of damage done against losses suffered…
It is not true that ‘area bombing was probably important because of the
general job it does upon civilian morale and attitudes’. In the British
concept it is important because it forces a redistribution and re-
arrangement of materials and labour force which detracts from the volume
of war production.15
The Americans for their part still held to the belief that destroying key industries
could prove decisive once those industries were identified. Thanks to the
deliberate development of both the B-17 Flying Fortress and special defensive
formation tactics, the USAAF felt able to pursue the luxury of daylight bombing,
which then theoretically facilitated targeting individual installations. So while
Britain’s decision to target the most obvious manifestation of Germany’s
strategic economic capacity—its industrial cities—evolved from the requirement
to attack at night and from a declining faith in the existence of conveniently
vulnerable ‘bottleneck’ industries, the American faith in the existence of
convenient ‘bottlenecks’, combined with a belief that technology could
overcome adverse circumstances, led to the decision to try targeting only certain
industrial installations of presumed strategic import by day.16
The difference between the British and American air-attack strategies
therefore rested more on the degree of faith held in the efficacy of targeting
either key industries or industrial centres than it did on the commonly (if
incorrectly) understood distinction between the tactic of aiming at an ‘area’ as
opposed to a ‘precision target’. One former USAAF navigator’s experience
indicates that this was a distinction without a difference, since ‘only the lead
navigator of the squadron of planes focused its bombsight on the target. We who
116 AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON
followed simply dropped our bombs when we saw the lead plane’s bombs
falling’, with the result that ‘our bombs just fell into the center of cities’.17 Also
significant was the USAAF’s ‘combat box’ formation, which produced a ‘pattern
correspond[ing] to a bomb ground pattern larger than the usual industrial
target’.18 The difference between ‘precision’ and ‘area’ aiming thus bore less
relation to how exclusively the target was defined than to how close the aircraft
were to a somewhat arbitrary point when the bombs were released. The accuracy
of all bombing was accordingly determined by this physical reality. The
destruction of a given industrial installation could be desired, but to ensure
hitting the area that included the installation, and not a point exclusive to the
industrial site, both British and American bombs would either way have to fall in
a dispersed pattern.
A further consideration of particular relevance to RAF strategy concerned the
munitions used, which stemmed from the disparity between the effectiveness of
high explosives (HE) as compared with incendiaries. Incendiaries were judged
on the basis of British experience under German attack to cause five times as
much damage as an equal weight of high explosives. The central city and built-
up compact residential areas of German cities were especially vulnerable to fire
given their material construction and lay-out, and the fact that this 8 per cent of
the average city area contained the densest concentration of dwellings (50 per
cent). With 25–30 per cent of the force bomb-load containing HE to destroy
essential fire defence means (roads, water mains, etc.), and to complicate civil
defence measures, incendiaries offered the best hope of achieving ‘the total
destruction’ of the ‘industrial and social activity’ of an industrial centre (i.e., of
making it incapable of functioning as an industrial city). By 1942, the simple
reality was that for the RAF to have a reasonable chance of destroying German
industrial capacity, incendiaries had to be used, which were by definition area,
rather than precision, weapons.19 The effect of incendiary-bombing cities was
also assumed from the start to have the potential to precipitate a crisis in German
morale. This in fact reflected the RAF’s desire to equate area targeting with a
possibly decisive result achieved in relatively short order; it originated in
February 1942 when the very continued existence of Bomber Command was in
doubt due to its operational shortcomings.20 It was incidental to the inability to
hit precise targets (the essential reason for turning to area targeting in the first
instance), and essentially an effort to make a virtue out of a necessity.21
The choice of day or night navigation, the definition of what constituted a viable
target, and the relative efficiency of available munitions accordingly combined to
shape the Anglo-American air attacks against German industry. Early 1940s’
bombing was by definition an inexact science, and the respective methods of the
RAF and USAAF owed much to their conceptions of what was technically
possible with regard to industrial targeting. Such were the Allied bombing
offensive’s established parameters when R&A men entered the fray to fill ‘a clear
gap in the organization of the American Air Staff in Europe’.22 John D.Wilson
and Russell Dorr initially established contacts with MEW’s Enemy Branch
EOU, SIRA, AND THE PITFALLS OF R&A 117
between April and June 1942.23 When Colonel Richard Hughes arrived in
England as Eighth Air Force target intelligence officer, he was approached by
Dorr regarding the possibility of R&A contributing to his work since MEW’s
Enemy Branch considered R&A to be its opposite number. Following a series of
meetings between R&A and Eighth Air Force representatives, it was agreed that
R&A economic analysts would establish an Enemy Objectives Unit as part of an
overall Economic Warfare Division (EWD) of the US Embassy in London
staffed by the American Board of Economic Warfare. The three-man nucleus of
EOU (Dorr, Chandler Morse, and Captain Walt W. Rostow) was formally
established on 12 September 1942, and was soon joined by other analysts who
were tasked by the Eighth Air Force to start aiming point reports on 24
September.24
EOU set about independently developing its own theoretical doctrine for
target selection at a time when the USAAF wanted key target systems identified
for methodical attack. This made for a certain confluence of aims as the
USAAF’s doctrine of precision bombing committed it to destroying industrial
targets and to industrial analysis in equal measure. Since the USAAF, unlike
RAF Bomber Command, stressed selecting targets scientifically, its targeting
intelligence personnel soon commenced formulating ‘Aiming Point’ reports on
individual industrial sites, where-upon EOU laid the groundwork for its
analytical methodology.25 Using data gleaned from ground reports, prisoner
interrogations, visits to similar British factories, and photo reconnaissance, EOU
provided analyses of individual target viability for the Eighth Air Force. EOU
then moved on to special studies of German industry that were completed by
March 1943. It must be stressed that due to dissatisfaction with the methods and
performance of MEW’s Enemy Branch, EOU worked independently from its
British opposite beyond accepting MEW intelligence for EOU analysis. This
analysis work involved producing Target Potentiality Reports’ designed to show
how bombing might be best directed against specific possible target systems. In
so doing, EOU focused on ranking possible target systems according to their
military utility. This involved answering three fundamental questions, expressed
quantitatively as follows in a memo by William Salant, quoted in the EOU War
Diary:
1. How great is the impairment of the enemy’s efforts per unit of physical
destruction?
2. How many units of physical destruction will be achieved per ton of
bombs dropped on the target?
3. How many tons of bombs can be dropped per unit of air effort, or per
unit of cost? (Including losses and wastage of planes and crew, expenditure
of bombs and gasoline, etc.). Analytically, it seems best to assume that
virtually any objective can be achieved if sufficient effort is expended.
Greater effort—in terms of sorties— will mean higher cost—however
118 AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON
Known as the ‘Party Line’, these concepts were expressed as a simple ratio of
‘impairment to enemy/cost to us’, and their development corresponded with the
deliberate execution of a Combined Bomber Offensive (CBO) by the RAF and
USAAF beginning in June.26 EOU’s conclusions favouring an attack against the
production of German fighter aircraft engines contributed to the effort
throughout the summer and autumn of 1943 to wear down the German Air
Force’s front-line fighter strength (code-named POINTBLANK). POINTBLANK
did not succeed, however, given the failure to appreciate the need to repeat strikes
against aircraft industry targets in order to overcome German recuperative
powers. A revamped effort during February and March 1944 met with greater
(but not lasting) success, although the effective defeat of the German fighter
force was achieved with the introduction of US longrange fighter escorts.27
The advantages of a precision targeting strategy over RAF methods remained
unproved despite EOU’s conclusion based on its impairment/cost equation that
precision targeting was more effective, and Bomber Command was actually
encouraged in this period to concentrate its attacks against cities vital to German
aircraft production.28 Neither method was in fact yet capable of delivering a
crippling or decisive blow, however, especially since the Germans responded to
the CBO with greater economic mobilization and improvisation.29 The weight of
air attack therefore needed more time to overcome the German economy, but
that time would be denied both air forces since they were expected from 1 April
1944 to support OVERLORD’s requirements as coordinated by SHAEF’s Allied
Expeditionary Air Force.30 This development led to one of the most heated
controversies of the air war, and it would persist in modified form until Germany’s
defeat, with EOU playing a central role in applying its ‘Party Line’ as ‘a doctrine
of warfare’.31
The controversy started from considerations regarding how best to employ the
bomber forces in support of OVERLORD, and there were two leading
alternatives. The first alternative originated in the experience of the Deputy
Supreme Allied Commander, Air Chief Marshal Sir Arthur Tedder, with the
bombing of rail communications in the Mediterranean. He was supported in this
conception by the analysis of his former targeting aide, anthropologist professor
Solly Zuckerman, who believed that such bombing would complicate moving
German troops and supplies by rail while also paralysing industry.32
The second alternative was a bombing campaign against German oil facilities,
emanating from EOU. This plan was backed by the newly appointed chief of
Eighth Bomber Command, Lieutenant-General Carl Spaatz. Despite its own
early interest in the potential of rail bombing as demonstrated in Italy, EOU
became convinced of the German oil industry’s vulnerability based on its target
potentiality studies. Its view particularly stressed the deficiency of German oil
stocks in relation to German oil capacity.33 EOU’s faith in the prospects of
EOU, SIRA, AND THE PITFALLS OF R&A 119
bombing oil put it in direct conflict with Zuckerman’s rail proposal, with the
main source of friction being the competing agendas involved. EOU staff
member Charles Kindleberger outlines the friction in his memoir, although he
defers to Walt Rostow’s published version of events, and Barry Katz’s Foreign
Intelligence.34 These sources all suggest the role of competing egos and agendas,
but they do not reveal their full influence on events. Zuckerman’s status stemmed
from his personal relationship with Tedder born of their experiences in the
Mediterranean. In arguing for the rail plan, both Tedder and Zuckerman placed
their respective military and analytical reputations on the line. EOU for its part was
eager to have a direct impact on operations and to exploit the USAAF’s
predisposition in order to have their new plan for victory executed, especially since
the American Eighth Bomber Command was frankly casting about for the golden
opportunity to enable the Eighth Air Force to prove the validity of precision
targeting doctrine. The USAAF’s search was clearly reflected in the alternating
American enthusiasm for attacking first ball-bearings, and then the German
fighter industry.35 It was also a pronounced tendency in the newly designated
ETO American bomber commander, Carl Spaatz, who as Eisenhower’s former
Mediterranean air chief was ‘fascinated with the prospect of “buggering up
transportation in depth”’. Spaatz had a ‘pre-occupation with attacking
communications in Italy’ that gave him ‘a bias on the subject’ before his arrival
in England. EOU’s Charles Kindleberger was advised by a Mediterranean
counterpart that although Spaatz might ‘be sold the right line immediately’ by
EOU, it would be better to convince him through his own staff officers. EOU
could educate Spaatz on the attractions of a narrow list of vitally strategic
targets, which would obviously steer him toward EOU’s resurrection of oil as the
primary bombing target by appealing to his desire to discover some means of
validating American bombing methods. EOU was thus engaged by February
1944 in a two-front campaign designed to woo Spaatz and to discredit
Zuckerman’s rail plan in order to secure the oil plan’s adoption. EOU would not
so much serve its chief consumer as manipulate him.36
EOU accomplished its first objective with relative ease on 5 March when, as
predicted, Spaatz rapidly accepted an EOU draft plan presented to him by
Colonel Hughes of his target selection staff in accordance with the advice
Kindleberger received about approaching Spaatz. This plan implicitly focused on
using American strategic air power against oil (Kindleberger’s memoir
confusingly claims that a meeting of minds between Hughes and EOU occurred
‘[i]n the winter of 19 [4]3–4’ concerning bridge bombing, not oil bombing, that
bridges versus rail marshalling yards was the basic controversy between EOU
and Zuckerman, and that this ‘became partly entangled in the strategic issue of
bombing oil plants’).37 Achieving the second goal proved harder, not only
because of Tedder’s involvement, but because the issue was not as clear-cut as
EOU defined it. One member of Britain’s Railway Research Service responded
to the criticisms of the rail plan made by EOU and other British agencies
(including MEW, the War Office and Air Intelligence) by observing that the
120 AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON
that he was not disputing the choice of targets, and agreed that if this number
of rail centres could be successfully attacked the railway system would be
dislocated and chaos would result. What he did question was the degree of
effectiveness of night bombing upon which the calculations in the paper
had been based. [Harris went on to point out that the accuracy of the OBOE
and OBOE II navigational aids were unlikely to prove as great as projected.
He also stated]…when operations were carried out to a fixed target
programme it was inevitable that repeated opportunities for other profitable
attacks would be missed. He said the night bomber force must be free to
strike whenever and wherever the opportunity occurs [in supporting
OVERLORD].39
The C-in-C’s doubts as to Bomber Command’s suitability for such work were
reasonable, although inconclusive, but his misgivings about the wisdom of a
fixed programme were supported by Air Chief Marshal Sir Charles Portal, Chief
of the Air Staff. The debate over rail versus oil in support of OVERLORD had
nevertheless gone on long enough. Its resolution finally emerged in a meeting
between Eisenhower and the interested air commanders on 25 March where the
Supreme Commander came down in favour of the rail plan. The issue was de
facto decided by Eisenhower based on which choice implied the most reliable
contribution to the execution of OVERLORD. EOU’s Kindleberger had
fashioned a tactical plan incorporating bridge and supply dump bombing in
explicit opposition to the AEAF rail proposal, but Spaatz had decided only to
offer oil bombing for consideration. Eisenhower then decided that bombing rail
facilities and marshalling yards would do more to hinder German military
operations near the bridgehead in the period immediately after OVERLORD,
whereas oil bombing would offer greater potential for strategically damaging
Germany’s war effort over time. It should be noted that EOU and Spaatz
believed that oil bombing would have an impact at the tactical level as well, but
this was dependent on its execution in conjunction with bridge bombing, which
itself was not presented to Eisenhower (Kindleberger’s memoir confuses the
matter by not clearly articulating the relationship between bridge and oil
bombing). The concerns of OVERLORD thus necessitated the prudent selection
of Zuckerman’s proposal from the options presented.40
This was not the end of the matter, however. Within a week of his oil
proposal’s defeat, Spaatz minuted Eisenhower with a request for the Fifteenth
EOU, SIRA, AND THE PITFALLS OF R&A 121
Air Force in Italy to bomb Romanian rail yards conveniently adjacent to oil
refineries, and for the Eighth Air Force to bomb selected oil plants in Germany,
as means of further reducing German Air Force (GAP) fighter power to achieve
pre-OVERLORD air supremacy.41 Spaatz succeeded in this oblique
circumvention of Eisenhower’s 25 March decision in part by an alleged threat to
resign his command if he was not permitted to attack oil in fulfilment of his
directive to attrit the GAF.42 Given the ease with which Spaatz secured
Eisenhower’s accession to oil attacks before the invasion, and the prompt
unleashing of those attacks after D-Day, it seems likely that Spaatz reconciled
himself to the rail plan’s inevitability as necessitated by OVERLORD’s short-
term requirements. By acquiescing to marshalling yard attacks, he then secured a
trade-off for that which he valued most—the opportunity to demonstrate oil
bombing’s strategically significant potential so that the Eighth Air Force would
be released to assault oil plants wholesale after the invasion. Bridge bombing
was further infiltrated into the pre-invasion bombing programme by the first
week of May as tactical bombers were employed to cut these arteries, thus
invalidating Zuckerman’s conclusion on the basis of Sicilian bombing that
bridges were not profitable targets.43 Rail bombing eventually proved to have the
desired effect, partly due to the unexpectedly impressive results achieved by
RAF Bomber Command with newly operational navigational devices, but mostly
because of bridge bombing in the unique geographical context of Normandy’s
dense and contained rail network. EOU was instrumental in pushing for bridge
bombing as the results of the May experiments became known.44
EOU’s input regarding bridges played a useful role in supplementing, and
even fine-tuning, the original rail plan, and it laid the foundation upon which
Spaatz was able to insinuate oil bombing into Allied strategy on the back of
OVERLORD’s requirements; but while oil bombing’s subsequent contribution to
the end of the war has been largely taken as a given by EOU partisans, the
accompanying in-fighting has been glossed over. Most notable is the view of
EOU alumnus Walt Rostow: ‘Postwar analysts and historians are…virtually
unanimous in their verdict that the attack on oil represented the most effective
use of strategic air power in the European theater’ (he particularly decries the
delay in oil bombing caused by the 25 March OVERLORD decision).45
Whatever the notoriety of the controversy surrounding pre-invasion bombing, an
even more intense struggle ensued as the war drew to a close, one that has not
been fully appreciated before, and which reveals EOU in a most unflattering
light.
Since nearly three-quarters of all Allied bombs dropped on Europe were
delivered after 1 July 1944, the post-invasion period was the strategic air
offensive’s truly decisive hour.46 Oil was increasingly presumed to be
Germany’s Achilles heel by the higher Allied authorities, but their reasoning was
more nuanced than EOU’s. It was particularly stressed by the British War
Cabinet’s Sub-Committee on Axis Oil that losing Romanian and East Polish oil
sources would put an immense burden on Germany’s domestic synthetic
122 AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON
might reach the levels sustained in August (when Germany still controlled
Romanian and Polish sources).53 A slow recovery in fact started during October
(to 30 per cent output), a level Germany managed to sustain until Russia’s
January 1945 advance into Silesia captured more plants, leaving only Germany’s
central and western facilities.54 The British advance into the Ruhr then captured
Germany’s heavily damaged western plants, thus leaving the air forces by April
to maintain their existing ‘stranglehold on the enemy’s oil supplies until such time
as the ground armies place [d] the issue beyond doubt by capture of the main
sources of production’.55
Whatever EOU’s position, then, the precision targeting of oil alone never
managed to knock out Germany, or even drive its oil output below 30 per cent of
its April 1944 level for very long. The most significant influence on German oil
was the Soviet and Allied land armies’ advance (itself owing something to the
application of strategic airpower to ground support in the west), since the actual
capture of plants is what decisively affected the issue. Oil bombing was moreover
complicated by the inability of photo reconnaissance—the main source of
intelligence on bombing effects—to keep pace with the scale of refinery attacks.
There were often seven- to ten-day delays in PR coverage, during which time the
Germans could make repairs and so frustrate JOTC/CSTC damage assessments.
Even when available, PR had its limitations: one Romanian plant was judged as
operating at high capacity when in reality it was producing half the estimated
amount given that the plant’s primary distillation unit was out of service for ten
weeks, a result undetectable from the air; another plant’s damaged boiler houses
led to the conclusion that production was seriously affected when actually the
boilers themselves were undamaged and the output higher than assessed on the
basis of PR.56
Weather was the factor common to the obstinacy of German production in the
face of bombing, and to the lag in PR confirmation, particularly between October
and December 1944. CSTC itself noted that during this period, ‘the weather lived
up to the worst expectations and visual opportunities of attack were rare’, while
weather also made PR damage assessments of specific plants ‘much more
difficult’; as a result, ‘[i]n most branches of the enemy’s oil production[,] repairs…
began to make progress in [the] face of new damage’.57 Radar-guided bombing
was too inaccurate to offset the weather problem. Ten centimetre wavelength
H2S radar could only provide an average accuracy of ‘50% of bombs dropped
blindly…to fall on [a] built-up area’, with ‘identification of specific aiming
points within the built-up areas…not usually possible’. For 3cm wavelength radar,
operational performance was expected to be ‘considerably worse’ than the
theoretical accuracy of ½ mile, thus giving ‘slightly higher accuracy’ than 10cm
wavelength radar.58 A report on ‘Bombing Accuracy, USAAF Heavy and
Medium Bombers in the ETO’ furthermore stated that the two most difficult
target complexes to bomb accurately were synthetic oil plants and oil refineries,
with accuracy defined as 50 per cent of the bombload landing within 1,000 feet of
the aim point.59 Even before the winter’s bad weather, it was conceded by the
124 AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON
January usually offered good weather, thereby enabling deep penetration into
Germany to attack oil targets’.68 The commander of Bomber Command’s
Pathfinder Group noted in his memoirs Harris’s March 1945 enthusiasm for oil
despite earlier objections that the plants were too hard to hit (before the new H2S
Mk. III radar proved itself).69 Despite all of this, EOU also considered Harris an
actual foe of oil bombing per se, and this demonstrates the extent to which EOU
analysts could not grasp that oil plants were not being hit effectively, that the
land armies’ advances were decisive, and that EOU’s ‘Party Line’ was vastly
inferior to Harris’s judgement.70
EOU’s obstinacy flared up dramatically toward war’s end. Throughout the oil
campaign, a competing communications campaign was also waged with the
noted backing of Tedder. Attacks against rail facilities were constantly weighed
in the judgements of SHAEF and the JIC, with communications routinely
assigned second or third priority as precision targets by CSTC in conjunction
with direct support of the land campaign.71 EOU’s CSTC representative
nevertheless became so caught up in the oil-rail competition that he and like-
minded colleagues formed a distinct faction within the committee which actually
defied the high command’s wishes by shunting communications targets to the
lowest possible priority in the war’s closing weeks despite oil bombing having
achieved as much as it could. The EOU War Diary baldly states that a ‘running
guerrilla battle was fought to the end of the war on the proportion of effort which
should be allocated to the oil system’. While Captain Harold Barnett lobbied for
Army support through G-2 SHAEF, Nat Pincus and other CSTC Members
‘fought to make the job thorough’.72 In point of fact, much of CSTC was not
necessarily on EOU’s side, and the thoroughness issue was hardly so simple. The
CSTC minutes of the meetings surrounding this episode clearly illustrate that
poor weather required repeated oil attacks in November in order to prevent an
even greater German resurgence, with the Eighth Air Force representative
(Colonel Hughes) particularly keen on having oil remain the priority target
system.73 Tedder, though, made it known to CSTC on 22 November that he
particularly wanted a bombing programme that would aid the land battle
directly.74 Supported by MEW representative Oliver Lawrence, Nat Pincus
reiterated EOU’s opposition to such a transportation programme the following
week, although he was reminded on 6 December that rail bombing’s objective
was to create dislocation and complement the oil campaign.75 This was SHAEF’s
view, repeated to CSTC on 27 December, but the committee continued to
recommend oil’s precedence over communications until the end of March
1945.76
Matters then came to a head during the 4 April CSTC meeting. The committee
chair made it clear that in order to ‘contribute directly to facilitating the advance
of the land Armies’, a plan for attacking selected central and southern German
communications targets had been agreed to by the Commanding General, US
Strategic Air Forces (USSTAF, the new designation for the echelon above
Eighth Air Force), the RAF Deputy Chief of the Air Staff (DCAS, Bomber
126 AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON
various people read the minutes of the CSTC meeting the balloon went up—and
how. Let it be realised though that those chaps concerned…prepared their own
‘nooses’; unwittingly maybe! Their intentions may be good, but as you must
know Nat’s blind apparent hatred for all forms of transportation attacks makes
many people suspicious of his actions and motives…You may say that to cut off
all depots from the list in rage so as to ensure that there is no ‘fiddling’ with
priorities, is quite unjust; maybe it is; but that is the way things happen in the
Army when chaps stick pins in the General’s arse…
You have seen enough of how a military machine works to know how things are
done. I wish to God you could get across to others
this simple fact. When orders have been given it is better to obey them than
stick pins in the general’s arse. If you want to complain, by all means do so
through the right channels. EOU is perfectly at liberty to argue with
USSTAF or the 8th but don’t be caught shuffling the cards under the
table; and remember that in the Army, Airforces etc. nothing is really run
by a committee…
May I ask one last question: at this stage of the war was it all worth it?80
EOU clearly worked with the Eighth Air Force to obstruct the transportation
programme in order to prevent any reduction in oil attacks through the pretext of
the depot issue (the EOU War Diary, written by Walt Rostow, refrains from
going into real detail about the episode, merely characterizing it as another noble
effort to maximize oil bombing against the odds that was ‘settled by a decision
of the air commanders’, at which point ‘EOU and the dissident members of the
CSTC, of course, retired from the fray’).81 It is also known that CSTC’s oil
partisans (particularly Lawrence of MEW) even went so far as to suppress
analyses of ULTRA material regarding transportation and the German economy
that showed the significant effects of air attacks.82 EOU was thus party to a
concerted attempt to manipulate analyses and procedures in support of its like-
minded USAAF consumers. EOU had obviously gone from simply advancing
targeting proposals toward involving itself in shaping policies that would enable
the USAAF to validate precision targeting. The ‘confluence of aims’ noted earlier
made for a partnership between analyst and consumer that went beyond the
intimate support of operations (a theoretical ideal) to active participation in
policy debates to the point of collusion designed to frustrate the high
command.83 EOU was committed to proving the validity of precision targeting,
and to abiding by the ‘Party Line’s’ dictum of realizing greater impairment to the
enemy compared with the cost born by the USAAF, by definition in their view
through oil bombing. Despite clear evidence that the ‘impairment of the enemy/
cost ratio’ in oil bombing was not nearly as efficient as EOU claimed, it
nevertheless clung to a fixed view dominated more by an emotional investment
in an abstract doctrine than by any operational reality or objective intelligence
128 AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON
EOU’s partisanship to prevent the strategic air offensive from fulfilling its
maximum potential.91
If EOU displayed the dangers of R&A men getting ideas above their station,
the SIRA experience demonstrated their branch’s eclipse in one of its original
preserves—intelligence reporting.92 R&A/London was always sensitive to SI’s
attitude toward intelligence handling, and it was a small victory near the end of
1942 to arrange for SI to put R&A in touch with exile government intelligence
sections in order to acquire political information while preserving SI’s role in
processing military intelligence.93 Suspicions nevertheless existed within R&A
that SI was not passing on all the intelligence it possessed.94 These doubts were
confirmed in 1943 after G-2 ETOUSA requested some OSS analyses, whereupon
SI was granted sole responsibility ‘for formulating its own contributions, so
complicated and esoteric were alleged to be the processes of evaluating and
exploiting the original raw intelligence’. Even when R&A later secured
permission to screen incoming SI Reports Division material for inclusion in
R&A/London’s political reports to G-2, R&A believed that ‘SI intelligence
hardly justified the fuss’, while SI held that ‘the uses of R&A scarcely warranted
the intrusion upon tradition and security’. SI thus closely guarded the material
received from SIS and others just as R&A simultaneously sought a more direct
role in the intelligence cycle with its political reports.95 Harold Deutsch managed
to convince SI in May 1944 to circulate material that would not normally be
passed outside SI, and to allow R&A to criticize and appraise SI reports. An
R&A Evaluations Procedures Officer was duly appointed to co-ordinate this
agreement with SI’s Reports Division.96 A ‘curb service’ was then established on
15 June which permitted R&A to examine ‘intelligence of psychological warfare
interest’. This had developed after SI ‘more and more [found] that its political or
“psychological warfare” intelligence, for which adequate staff provision had not
been made, attracted attention and customers’.97 In an ironic sense, R&A was
one of those customers since it received particularly useful data for its French
political studies. It was this trend toward a combined effort in political
intelligence that set the precedent for the even closer SIRA arrangement.98
Although R&A credited SI stinginess in sharing intelligence for SI’s growing
relevance to OSS/London’s intelligence analysis, there were in reality two main
reasons for SIRA’s development: first, consumers found SI material more
interesting than R&A reports, and second, SI was more attuned to the importance
of intelligence dissemination than was R&A. The mechanism for SI
dissemination was the aforementioned Reports Division. SI rapidly appreciated
that the value of intelligence depended in large part on the accuracy, clarity, and
speed of its transmission to those who could use it fully. This concern with
properly disposing of SI/London’s intelligence is notable for the implication that
consumers, not R&A, would analyse intelligence in keeping with SIS practice
outlined in Chapter 4. It was an important matter since the volume of intelligence
obtained by SI was so great that the branch eventually had to be split into
accumulation and disposition sub-units once sufficient personnel were available
130 AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON
months of 1944, and with SI’s desire to issue reports containing minimal analysis
and comment in the best SIS tradition. All of R&A’s active personnel assigned to
SIRA duly exited the Reports Division by the end of December, leaving SI with
its monopoly on effective dissemination procedures. R&A subsequently argued
that the SIRA scheme had too grandiose aims and insufficient development time
to realize the coordination of resources implicit in the OSS concept. Such pathos
merely masked the real issue, namely, R&A’s unwillingness to lower itself to
perform the processing drudgery that was the key to whatever influence SI
enjoyed. R&A was insufficiently practical to focus on the process of intelligence
reporting. R&A was neither willing to establish its own version of SI’s Reports
Division, nor to pitch in while riding SI’s coat-tails. R&A thus succeeded in once
again short-changing its own effort, not through any evidence that SI reporting was
inconsequential or too imitative of SIS methods, but through administrative
confusion and analytical arrogance. As indicated in Chapter 4, R&A had no clear
intelligence concept with which to fit itself into the intelligence cycle. The
potential was there, but R&A basically did not know how to adapt its particular
strengths and shortcomings to the reality of ETO intelligence demands.106
EOU and SIRA accordingly realized the R&A experiment’s inherent
shortcomings. EOU eschewed objectivity in exchange for a rigid doctrinaire
approach that became an end in itself, while SIRA underscored R&A’s self-
defeating abhorrence of ‘drudgery’ and its failure to execute dissemination as well
as it did collection and analysis. SI was then permitted, largely by default, to fill
the gap left by its more exalted colleagues. As the theoretical embodiment of a
potentially distinctive American approach to intelligence analysis, R&A thus lost
out to another branch’s adoption of proven SIS methods for processing intelligence
and to its own egotism toward those consumers it sought to manipulate, or to
defy. These R&A off-shoots accordingly fell far short of realizing Donovan’s
goal of a higher form of intelligence analysis. Processing, dissemination, and
operational relevance evidently counted for more than unbending commitments
to elitist analysis, or doctrinal obsession.
It would ultimately be SI, not R&A, that did the most to validate Donovan’s
concept by surpassing expectations in 1945. Its espionage assault on Germany
achieved some measure of OSS/London’s theoretical centralization. SI did so
with its most ambitious independent operation of the war, one that made the
most of OSS/London’s capacity for a coordinated, unified intelligence campaign,
and one that owed more to the drive of a junior officer with a flair for planning
and administration than it did to Donovan’s direction.
NOTES
3. Giulio Douhet, The Command of the Air, trans. Dino Ferrari (New York: Coward-
McCann, 1942, originally published 1921, rev. edn 1927), pp. 5–10, 24–8, 49, 51.
4. Ibid., pp. 59–60; W.F.Craven, and J.L.Gate, et al., The Army Air Forces in World
War II, Vol. II: Europe: Torch to Pointblank, August 1942–December 1943
(Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1949), p. 348.
5. Webster and Frankland, I, pp. 25–7; Anthony Verrier, The Bomber Offensive
(London: B.T.Batsford, 1968), p. 208.
6. Lord Selborne to Air Marshal Arthur Harris, 13 May 1942, AIR 14/3510, PRO; on
Enemy Branch, see also Wark, Ultimate, pp. 155–87 for its antecedents; W.N.
Medlicott, The Economic Blockade, Vol. II (London: HMSO, and Longmans,
Green, 1959), pp. 392, 674–88; and Hinsley, I, pp. 100–1, 289–91.
7. W.N.Medlicott, The Economic Blockade, Vol. 1 (London: HMSO and Longmans,
Green, 1952) pp. 1, 25–6 (for ‘puzzling’/‘ruthless’ quotes), 29, 33 (for
‘extent’ quote), 43, 46, 62, 417–21; see also Hinsley, I, pp. 223–48, and see also
the assessment by the Commodities Priorities Committee Sub-Committee on
Petroleum, 1939–40, FO 837/111, PRO; Ben Pimlott, Hugh Dalton (London:
Jonathan Cape, 1985), pp. 291–2, 315.
8. On Germany’s war economy and total war, see Berenice A. Carroll, Design for
Total War: Arms and Economics in the Third Reich (The Hague: Mouton, 1968),
pp. 93, 189–90, R.J.Overy, Goering: The ‘Iron Man’ (London: Routledge and
Kegan Paul, 1984), pp. 36–9, 48–75, 78, 82–8, 95–102, 148–52, R.J.Overy, War
and Economy in the Third Reich (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1994), Alan
S.Milward, The German Economy at War (London: The Athlone Press, 1965), pp.
27, 53, and Alan S.Milward, War, Economy and Society, 1939–1945 (Berkeley:
University of California Press, 1977), pp. 75–82, 135–49, 312–13.
9. See Webster and Frankland, I, pp. 163–5, 280–4, 290–1, 296–7, 299–306, 318–36;
and Marshal of the RAF Sir Arthur Harris, Bomber Offensive (London: Collins,
1947), pp. 45–6, 77; see also Sir Charles Webster and Noble Frankland, The
Strategic Air Offensive Against Germany, Vol. IV: Annexes and Appendices
(London: HMSO, 1961), pp. 188–93, for the 7 January 1941 ‘Report on Air
Bombardment Policy’ regarding oil; see also Ben Pimlott (ed.), The Second World
War Diary of Hugh Dalton, 1940–1945 (London: Jonathan Cape/London School of
Economics and Political Science, 1986), pp. 23, 31, 37.
10. Harris, Bomber, pp. 220, 229; see also Charles Messenger, ‘Bomber’ Harris and
the Strategic Bombing Offensive, 1939–1945 (London: Arms and Armour Press,
1984), pp. 33, 103–4, 148; Henry Probert, Bomber Harris: His Life and Times: The
Biography of Marshal of the Royal Air Force Sir Arthur Harris, Wartime Chief of
Bomber Command (Toronto: Stoddart, 2001), pp. 126–33; David MacIsaac (ed.),
The United States Strategic Bombing Survey, Vol. I (New York: Garland, 1976), pp.
2, 209; Hinsley, II, pp. 129–59; cf. Stephen Roskill, Hankey: Man of Secrets, Vol.
III, 1931–1963 (London: Collins, 1974), pp. 494–5, 520–1, 530.
11. Medlicott, II, pp. 18, 634–5.
12. Dudley Saward, ‘Bomber’ Harris (London: Sphere, 1985), pp. 144–5; see also Robin
Neillands, The Bomber War: The Allied Air Offensive Against Nazi Germany
(Woodstock: The Overlook Press, 2001), pp. 34–61.
13. Webster and Frankland, I, pp. 167–88, 458–72; Craven and Gate, II, p. 349; W.F.
Craven and J.L.Gate, et al., The Army Air Forces in World War II, Vol. I: Plans
134 AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON
Economic Intelligence’, 11 May 1942, Folder 1824, Box 128, Entry 146, RG 226,
NARA.
24. Wilson to Donovan, 23 June 1942, ‘Conference with Colonel Hughes’, Folder 21,
Box 84, Entry 92; Wilson to Russell H.Dorr, 29 August 1942, Folder 1301, Box
87, Entry 146; ‘Notes on Talk with Chandler Morse, 20 November 1942’, Folder
94, Box 8, Entry 145; ‘Possible Work for Eighth Air Force by Office of Strategic
Services’, attached to Dorr to Col Robert L.Bacon, G-2 Eighth Air Force, 18
August 1942, Folder 1824, Box 128, Entry 146; ‘War Diary, R&A, 5’, pp. 1, 11–16
(citing 12 September for EOU’s inception), frames 737, 747–52, RG 226, NARA;
see also Rostow, Strategy, pp. 16–19 (which cites 13 September as EOU’s
inception date).
25. See W.W.Rostow, ‘Notes on Strategic Bombing-1944’, Folder ‘Target Potentiality
Reports’, Box 1, Entry 77, RG 226, NARA; Craven and Gate, II, pp. 305–7, 349–
69, 668–81, 707–9; W.F.Craven, and J.L.Gate, et al., The Army Air Forces in
World War II, Vol. III: Argument to V-E Day, January 1944–May 1945 (Chicago:
University of Chicago Press, 1951), pp. 26–9, 30–8, 57–8, 65–6.
26. On EOU targeting methodology, see ‘War Diary, R&A, 5’, pp. 21–68, frames 757–
804; see also Katz, Foreign, pp. 115–18; the US Chief of the Air Staff, Lt-
Gen. Hap Arnold, actually publicly revealed the four major target systems
considered by the Eighth Air Force in January 1943, and his remarks were
published in newspaper reports—see Morse to Kindleberger, 20 January 1943,
Folder 1235, Box 84, Entry 146; on EOU work, see Depres to Mark Turner of
MEW, 15 February 1943, Folder ‘Washington Letters’, Box 2, Entry 77, and
Depres to Morse for Donovan, and ‘The Development and Work of the Enemy
Objectives Unit London’, 4 May 1943, Folder 94, Box 8, Entry 145; Col
H.A.Berliner to Donovan, 10 May 1943, Folder 2315, Box 155, Entry 146;
C.P.Kindleberger to Hughes, 15 March 1943, Folder ‘Aiming Points’, Box 6, Entry
77; see also ‘History of OSS/R&A’, Folder 16, Box 73, Entry 99, which notes that
A-2 (USAAF intelligence) was the ‘only consistently friendly organization to the
OSS’; all in RG 226, NARA; see also ‘The Defeat of the German Air Force’, in
David MacIsaac (ed.), The United States Strategic Bombing Survey, Vol. III (New
York: Garland, 1976); W.W.Haines, Ultra and the History of the United States
Strategic Air Force in Europe vs. the German Air Force (Frederick: University
Publications of America, 1980, 2nd printing, 1986), pp. xvi; and Hinsley, III, (1),
pp. 291–322.
27. Webster and Frankland, II, pp. 5–6; Webster and Frankland, IV, pp. 153–65.
28. EOU comparison of area and precision methods in ‘War Diary, R&A, 5’, pp. 44–7,
frames 780–3.
29. ‘The Effects of Strategic Bombing on the German War Economy’, pp. 6–8, in
MacIsaac, I: ‘Speer’s work was more the result of brilliant improvisations than a
single well thought-out plan’, notable for the piecemeal, not widespread,
exploitation of mass production techniques.
30. Webster and Frankland, II, pp. 245–68; Sir Charles Webster and Noble Frankland,
The Strategic Air Offensive Against Germany, Vol. III: Victory (London: HMSO,
1961), pp. 10–13.
31. ‘Doctrine of warfare’ quote, ‘War Diary, R&A, 5’, p. 50, frame 786; see Murray,
Luftwaffe, pp. 161–9.
136 AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON
32. Marshal of the RAF Lord Tedder, With Prejudice (London: Cassell, 1966), pp.
489, 503–4; ‘Professor Zuckerman’s Report on Air Attacks on Road and Rail
Communications in Sicily and Southern Italy’, 28 December 1943, AIR 37/749,
PRO; see the following in Folder ‘H.N.Barnett, Transportation’, Box 1, Entry 77,
RG 226, NARA: ‘Operation ‘Overlord’, Delay and Disorganization of Enemy
Movement by Rail’, n.d.; Draft Minutes of 6th Mtg of the Allied Air Force
Bombing Committee, 24 January 1944; Kindleberger to Hughes, 8 February 1944;
‘Program of Attacks Against Enemy Military Transport and Supplies in Support of
Ground Forces in the Western Front’, n.d.; Extract from Mediterranean Allied Air
Force Weekly Intelligence Summary, 7 January 1944; see also the correspondence
in Folder ‘MAAF’, Box 2, Entry 77; see also Solly Zuckerman, From Apes to
Warlords, 1904–46: An Autobiography (London: Hamish Hamilton, 1978), pp. 221,
231–3; Lord Zuckerman, ‘The Doctrine of Destruction’, New York Review of Books
37, 5 (29 March 1990), p. 3.
33. On early interest in rail, see Dorr to Morse, 14 November 1942, Folder 1301, and
Dorr to Kindleberger, 12 June 1943, Folder 1304, both in Box 87, Entry 146, RG
226, NARA; on EOU oil analysis, see Rostow, Strategy, pp. 33–4, 52–3, and ‘Oil
Refineries and Synthetic Oil Plants’, 1 January 1944, ‘Petroleum: Summary and
Conclusions’, 10 January 1944, both in Folder ‘Target Potentiality Reports’, Box
1, Entry 77, RG 226, NARA.
34. On EOU vs. Zuckerman, see ‘Critical Analysis of “Delay and Disorganization
of Enemy Movement by Rail”’, 7 February 1944, Folder ‘H.N.Barnett,
Transportation’, Box 1, both in Entry 77, RG 226, NARA; see also Zuckerman,
Apes, p. 226; on personalities, see Rostow, ‘Economist’, in Chalou (ed.), Secrets,
pp. 51–2; on Kindleberger, Charles P.Kindleberger, The Life of an Economist: An
Autobiography (Cambridge, MA: Basil Blackwell, 1991), pp. 84–9.
35. On the futility of ball-bearings, see Medlicott, II, pp. 409, 415–16.
36. Spaatz’s enthusiasm for rail bombing, and the advice on managing him, is in Coombs
to Kindleberger, 2 January 1944, Folder ‘MAAF’, Box 2, Entry 77, RG 226,
NARA.
37. On convincing Spaatz through Hughes, see Rostow, Strategy, pp. 32–3, and ‘War
Diary, R&A, 5’, pp. 80–1, frames 816–17; on Kindleberger and bridges, see
Kindleberger, Life, pp. 83–8.
38. On rail counter-arguments, see ‘Technical Comments by the Railway Research
Service’, 15 March 1944, AIR 37/514, PRO; cf. Kindleberger, Life, 85–6.
39. Harris view in Minutes of 11th Meeting of Allied Forces Bombing Commanders,
15 February 1944, AIR 40/732, PRO; see also Murray, pp. 249–62; on his
commitment to supporting OVERLORD, see Harris, Bomber, p. 192; Probert,
Harris, pp. 289–97; cf. Zuckerman, Apes, pp. 222–5, and Zuckerman, ‘Doctrine’,
p. 3.
40. ‘War Diary, R&A, 5’, pp. 68–82, frames 804–18; Rostow, Strategy, pp. 3–14, 36–
51; Kindleberger, Life, pp. 85–7; see also Zuckerman, Apes, pp. 243–6, and p. 257,
which notes that EOU did not stress the bridge alternative in its original criticisms
of the rail plan; Craven and Gate, III, pp. 72–9.
41. Rostow, Strategy, pp. 113–15 for the 31 March 1944 Spaatz-Eisenhower memo;
for Fifteenth Air Force, see also MAAF ‘Air Attack on the Axis Oil Supply’, 27
March 1944, Folder ‘MAAF Reports, Oil’, Box 2, Entry 77, RG 226, NARA.
42. See ibid., pp. 52–6, and n. 28, which detail the alleged threat of resignation.
EOU, SIRA, AND THE PITFALLS OF R&A 137
43. Ibid., pp. 56–65; see also Tedder, Prejudice, p. 537, and Sir John Slessor, The
Central Blue: Recollections and Reflections (London: Cassell, 1956), pp. 567–8; on
bridges, see ‘Draft Plan for Air Attack Against Enemy Rail Communications’, 5
May 1944, ‘The Effort Against Seven Seine Rail Bridges’, n.d., both in Folder
‘H.N.Barnett, Transportation’, Box 1, Entry 77, RG 226, NARA.
44. ‘Bombing Attacks on French Railways, Jan.–Aug. 1944’, AIR 40/371, PRO, and
Rostow, ‘Economist’, in Chalou (ed.), Secrets, pp. 53–4 for EOU’s role; on the rail
programme’s effects, see Bombing Analysis Unit Report No. 1, 4 November 1944,
AIR 40/669, PRO; cable, SI Staff London to SI Staff SHAEF, 24 June 1944, Folder
1029, Box 104, Entry 136; see also H.W.Liebert to E.S.Mason, 20 July 1944, ‘The
Role of R&A/Algiers and R&A/London in Recent Target Activities’, Folder
‘Economic Subdivision’, Box 3, Entry 37; both in RG 226, NARA; ‘War Diary,
R&A, 5’, pp. 82–103, frames 819–40; cf. the French intelligence reports submitted
by EOU on 8 August 1944, in Folder ‘H.N.Barnett, Transportation’, and
Zuckerman’s rebuttal, 21 August 1944, to Air C-in-C, AIR 37/719, PRO; on RAF,
see Harris, Bomber, pp. 195–209; see also Craven and Gate, III, pp. 156–9;
Hinsley, III, (2), pp. 106–23, 497–505; Bomber Command’s sorties are detailed in
Middlebrook and Everitt, Diaries, pp. 521–63; USAAF sorties in R.A.Freeman,
with A.Crouchman and V Maslin, Mighty Eighth War Diary (London: Jane’s, 1981),
pp. 234–336.
45. See Rostow, Strategy, pp. 79, 82–4, 119–21; see also Rostow, ‘Economist’, in
Chalou (ed.), Secrets, pp. 52–5.
46. On 3/4 figure for bombs dropped on Europe, MacIsaac, I, p. xviii.
47. War Cabinet Technical Sub-Committee on Axis Oil, AO (44) 31, 3 April 1944;
AO (44) 32 (Final) (also JIC (44) 153), 14 April 1944; and AO (44) 34 (Final) (also
JIC (44) 168), 23 April 1944, all in CAB 77/24; see also JIC (44) 218 (O) (Final),
27 May 1944, PREM 3/332/1 (all in PRO); and JIC (44) 301 (O) (Final), 20 July
1944, Reel 29, frames 1059–70, 1074–9, which stress the combined effects of
bombing oil and transportation; see also S. Alexander to Kindleberger, 30 March
1944, Folder ‘London Letters Out, 27/7/43–31/5/44’, Box 4, Entry 52, RG 226,
NARA, which stresses the vulnerability of German synthetic stocks once Ploesti
was overrun; for optimism over oil results, see JIC (44) 320 (O) (Final), 24 July
1944, frames 1091–9; and JIC (44) 344 (O) (Final), 7 August 1944, frames 1110–
14; both in Reel 29, Entry 190, RG 226, NARA; for a lucid discussion of the
technical details pertaining to synthetic oil plants and oil refineries, see the British
Ministry of Home Security report in Folder ‘Oil—Miscellaneous’, Box 1, Entry 77,
RG 226, NARA.
48. Tedder, Prejudice, pp. 609–12.
49. Zuckerman, Apes, pp. 337, 343–4.
50. See Saward, Harris, pp. 343–4 (for ‘afterthought’); Harris, Bomber, pp. 220–8.
51. On JOTC/CSTC organization, see CSTC Working Committee (Oil) Bulletin No.
1945–19, AIR 40/1262, PRO.
52. JOTC Working Committee (Oil) Bulletins (output percentages observed in each
report): 9 (29 August 1944) details the Romanian surrender, and Polish situation;
SHAEF Weekly Report No. 6, 2 September 1944, Folder ‘Oil Memoranda’, Box 2,
RG 226, NARA, gives the 50 per cent crude figure; JOTC Bulletin data are also
found in the cables in Folders ‘June–July 1944’ and ‘August–September 1944’,
138 AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON
Box 3, Entry 6, RG 226, NARA; see Harris, Bomber, p. 228, and Saward, Harris, p.
412, on loss of Romania and Poland.
53. JOTC Working Committee (Oil) Bulletins in Box 1, Entry 79, RG 226, NARA:
Bulletins Nos. 4 (25 July 1944), 5 (1 August 1944), and 6 (8 August 1944) detail
German repair work; 8 (22 August 1944) details the need to re-bomb repaired
plants; CSTC Working Committee (Oil) Bulletins in Box 6, Entry 77, RG 226,
NARA: 19 (7 November 1944), and 1945–4 (23 January 1945), detail underground
plants; 22 (28 November 1944) details ‘extensive repair efforts of the enemy’; cf.
W.J. Gold to Philip Horton, 13 November 1944, Folder 364, Box 316, Entry 190,
RG 226, NARA, quoting EOU’s Nat Pincus regarding the failure to date to destroy
completely any plants, on how all plants were as yet significant producers or
potential producers, and on using labour for repairs; Harris, Bomber, p. 229 on
German repair corps and underground plants; Webster and Frankland, IV, pp. 347–
8, details German reconstruction efforts in Speer to Bormann, 16 September 1945.
54. CSTC Working Committee (Oil) Bulletins: 1945–4 also details the imminent
capture of Silesia; 1945–5 (30 January 1945) covers the effects of the capture of
Silesia; 21 (21 November 1944) details the inactivity of plants in western
Germany, and the ‘substantial production’ (66 per cent level) of central and eastern
plants.
55. CSTC Working Committee (Oil) Bulletins: 1945–14 (3 April 1945) for advance to
the Ruhr, and ‘stranglehold’ quote; see AO (46) 1, 8 March 1946, ‘Oil as a Factor
in the German War Effort, 1933–1945’, AIR 8/1019, PRO; and see also ‘War
Diary, R&A, 5’, pp. 104–13, frames 840–9; R.C.Cooke and R.C.Nesbit, Target:
Hitler’s Oil: Allied Attacks on German Oil Supplies, 1939–1945 (London: William
Kimber, 1985), pp. 108–73; Craven and Gate, III, pp. 172–8, 280–7, 640–6; and
Webster and Frankland, III, pp. 47, 225–43.
56. JOTC (Oil) Bulletins Nos. 12 (19 September 1944), 13 (26 September 1944), 14
(26 September 1944), 15 (10 October 1944) detail the lack of PR (JOTC No. 15
details problems encountered in interpreting Romanian plants); CSTC Bulletins
Nos. 16 (17 October 1944), 17 (24 October 1944), 20 (14 November 1944), 24 (12
December 1944) detail the lack of PR coverage; 21, 26 (26 December 1944) detail
working off PR deficits; the minutes of CSTC 8th Mtg, 6 December 1944, AIR 40/
1269, PRO note the technical problems encountered in winter PR over Germany;
see Ursula Powys-Lybbe, The Eye of Intelligence (London: William Kimber,
1983), pp. 34–45, 152–67, on photo interpretation in bomb damage assessments;
‘War Diary, R&A, 5’, pp. 114–17, frames 851–4, also covers assessment; see also
Webster and Frankland, III, pp. 210–11; the USSBS reports on oil bombing are in
David MacIsaac (ed.), The United States Strategic Bombing Survey, Vol. V (New
York: Garland, 1976).
57. CSTC 1945–19; see also CSTC Bulletins Nos: 19, on blind bombing done in the
first week of November due to bad weather; 25 (19 December 1944), on how raids
of 30 November produced ‘minor’ or ‘negligible’ damage; 1945–4 on the German
exploitation of bad weather for repairs; see also David MacIsaac (ed.), Strategic
Bombing in World War Two: The Story of the United States Strategic Bombing
Survey (New York: Garland, 1976), p. 159, and US Strategic Bombing Survey
(USSBS), Overall Report (European War) (US Government Printing Office,
1945), pp. 29, 108, on repetition of attacks; on weather considerations, see
‘Frequency of Weather Conditions Suitable for Bombing Northwestern Germany’,
EOU, SIRA, AND THE PITFALLS OF R&A 139
7 November 1942 Folder 21, Box 4, Entry 77, RG 226, NARA (half of the days
and nights in winter were considered good enough for bombing, with large-scale
operations less possible in winter).
58. ‘Use of 3cm H2S for Locating Specific Objectives’, 19 January 1944, Folder 20,
Box 4, Entry 77, RG 226, NARA.
59. The report on ‘Bombing Accuracy, USAAF Heavy and Medium Bombers in the
ETO’, is in MacIsaac (ed.), III.
60. Eighth Air Force ‘Memorandum on the Selection of MPI and Bombs and Fuzes for
Attacks Against Synthetic Oil Plants’, 7 November 1944, Folder ‘Oil Memoranda’,
Box 2, Entry 77, RG 226, NARA.
61. ‘War Diary, R&A, 5’, pp. 21–68.
62. Harris, Bomber, p. 229; see also pp. 224–5 on weather.
63. Ibid., pp. 230–2; CSTC 4th Mtg, covers Bomber Command’s effectiveness against
Ruhr oil; see chart, SASO (SB) Bomber Command in AIR 14/906, PRO for
comparative tonnage dropped on oil targets; see also Probert, Harris, pp. 305–7.
64. Hinsley, III, (2), pp. 505–32, accuses Harris of deliberately flouting his superiors to
the detriment of the oil offensive without considering the implications of weather
and aiming factors to its execution; cf. Middlebrook and Everitt, Diaries, pp. 582,
591–2, 599, 614, 617–21, 628, 644, 646, 652–5, 658–62, 664, 666–85, 689, 691–2,
698 for the realities of Bomber Command attacks on oil between September 1944–
April 1945; on the shortcomings of the Hinsley interpretation, see Alfred C.
Mierzejewski, ‘Intelligence and the Strategic Bombing of Germany: The Combined
Strategic Targets Committee’, International Journal of Intelligence and
Counterintelligence 3, 1 (Spring 1989), p. 83.
65. Portal-Harris correspondence in AIR 8/1020, and 8/1745, PRO; see Messenger,
Harris, pp. 178, and 174–84 on the whole oil issue; cf. Saward, Harris, pp. 343–4,
352–64, and Cooke and Nesbit, Target, p. 187.
66. Portal to Harris, 20 January 1945, AIR 8/1020; Harris to Portal, 6 November 1944,
AIR 8/1745; both in PRO.
67. 2 March 1945 memo on the Air Commanders’ Conference held at SHAEF on
1 March, AIR 14/913, PRO.
68. Minutes of conference of 4 January 1944, AIR 14/913, PRO.
69. D.C.T.Bennett, Pathfinder (London: Goodall, 1988), p. 211.
70. For EOU’s view of Harris as relatively unenthusiastic about oil, see Rostow,
‘Economist’, in Chalou (ed.), Secrets, p. 55; cf. Neillands, Bomber, pp. 338–50.
71. On communications ranking, see the various CSTC minutes in AIR 40/1269, PRO;
for CSTC mandate, see 1st Mtg, 18 October 1944.
72. ‘War Diary, R&A, 5’, p. 84, frame 820; note that this volume of the War Diary was
written by W.W.Rostow (see Katz, Foreign, p. 223, n. 29); see also Mierzejewski,
‘Intelligence’, pp. 89–98.
73. Weather problems and Hughes’s view, CSTC 2nd Mtg, 25 October 1944; lack of
PR in CSTC 3rd Mtg, 1 November 1944, and CSTC 5th Mtg, 15 November 1944;
all in AIR 40/1269, PRO.
74. CSTC 6th Mtg, 22 November 1944, AIR 40/1269, PRO.
75. Pincus/Lawrence opinions in CSTC 7th Mtg, 29 November 1944; reminder in
CSTC 8th Mtg, 6 December 1944; both in AIR 40/1269, PRO.
140 AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON
January 1943, and ‘Electric Power as a Military Objective’, both in Folder ‘Target
Potentiality Reports’, Box 1, Entry 77; all in RG 226, NARA.
88. MEW’s assessment of Germany’s electrical supply of August 1943, FO 837/446,
was distributed to EWD, and despite noting that 87 per cent of all electricity was
used by industry, and that ‘German industry [was] almost wholly dependent on
electricity for motive power’ (80 per cent of all motors were electric), MEW
concluded that German excess capacity made the electrical system ‘resistant to
attack’; MEW’s assessment was the same in late 1944—see the FO and MEW
Enemy Branch report of November 1944, FO 837/448; both in PRO; cf.
Kindleberger, Life, p. 75.
89. MEW Intelligence Weekly Report No. 169, 3 May 1945, citing the captured
‘Bulletin of the German Ministry of Armament and War Production’, 10 February
1945, AIR 8/602, PRO.
90. Webster and Frankland, IV, pp. 384, 391; see also Albert Speer, Inside the Third
Reich, trans. Richard and Clara Winston (New York: Macmillan, 1970), pp. 278–9,
284–6, 346–7, and the record of his interrogations contained in Webster and
Frankland, IV, pp. pp. 375–95, and ‘German Electric Utilities Industry Report’, in
MacIsaac (ed.), VI, which states that bombing electricity would have had a
‘catastrophic effect on Germany’s war production’; see also ‘The German Electric
Power Complex as a Target System’, in Haywood S.Hansell, Jr, The Air Plan That
Defeated Hitler (New York: Arno Press, 1980), pp. 80–1, 161, 260–2, 286–97,
which stresses the viability of bombing electric power while still accounting for
weather and repair factors; Craven and Gate, III, pp. 789–92, note the failure to see
the inter-connectedness of economic systems, while pp. 794–802 note the success
of oil, and p. 801 discusses electricity; Kindleberger, Life, p. 75, disputes
electricity’s vulnerability.
91. See Webster and Frankland, III, pp. 242–3, on the decisiveness of oil, and pp. 302–
4, on MEW and Bomber Command’s lack of confidence.
92. This paragraph’s quotes and narrative are from ‘War Diary, R&A, 3, (i), pp. 179–
87, frames 630–8.
93. On political documents from exile governments, see J.D. Wilson to Brinton, 26
April 1943, Folder 94, Box 8, Entry 145, RG 226, NARA.
94. For R&A frustration with its access to SI intelligence and SI reporting work, see
‘SI and R&A Relations’, n.a., 26 May 1943 (and SI’s response, n.a., c. June 1943),
Folder 40, Box 103, Entry 92; Brinton to Langer, 4 May 1943, Folder 1296, Box
86, Entry 146; and Sherman Kent to Applebaum, 13 March 1944, Folder
‘Executive Officer’, Box 3, Entry 37; all in RG 226, NARA.
95. On SI disseminations compared with R&A’s, see Minutes of Intelligence
Committee, 1 March 1944, Folder 66-A, Box 00005, Entry 115, RG 226, NARA.
96. See Gen. Magruder to Langer, 13 March 1944, Folder 685-A, Box 50, and Morse
and Haskell to Forgan, 26 May 1944, Folder 1235, Box 84, both in Entry 146, RG
226, NARA.
97. For detail on SI-R&A document sharing, see Alan Scaife to W.H. Shepardson, 13
January 1943, Folder 47, Box 27; Scaife to Shepardson, 4 February 1943, Folder 9,
Box 238; both in Entry 92, both on handling Broadway Most Secret documents,
and T.W.Reese and P.Horton to Forgan, 17 May 1944, Folder 1235, Box 84, Entry
146; on ‘curb service’, see Morse to Bruce, R&A Progress Report, 7 July 1944,
Folder 3, Box 2, Entry 99; all in RG 226, NARA.
142 AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON
SI’s penetration of Germany in 1944–45 after the French campaign has been
characterized as an effort that collected ‘minutiae’ at great risk with insufficient
depth to benefit the Allied armies.1 British intelligence was allegedly lukewarm
to the whole plan given Nazi Germany’s intense counter-espionage climate, the
lack of a supporting German resistance movement, the American use of leftist
agents, and the presumed pointlessness of risking agents when the ‘profitable
exploitation of ULTRA’ SIGINT offered so much operational material.2 The
reality of the matter was quite different. OSS/London’s experience in these
German operations actually demonstrated its largely untapped potential for
coordinating individual branch resources toward a common goal. The
intelligence produced by OSS agents was in fact prized by the military, which
fully supported its collection in Germany. While OSS/London did indeed press
on regardless of the British clandestine services’ lack of enthusiasm, the British
reticence owed little to the supposed operational difficulties, the efficacy of
ULTRA, or the presumed dangers of using leftists. The British were instead
mindful that any American success where SIS and SOE feared to tread
underscored Britain’s inability to execute operations of consequence during the
European war’s closing phase. The functional fragmentation problem still
complicated SI’s coordination of operations with SFHQ, but the fact that OSS
contributed what it did owed much to the drive and skill of a single officer who
rose from the position of staff functionary to that of SI branch chief in the ETO.
The penetration of Germany demonstrated William J.Casey’s singular adeptness
at harnessing OSS/London’s disparate assets into a more cohesive force as SI led
the London mission toward a unique degree of operational independence. Casey
thus combined the experience previously gained along side the British with his
own brand of ‘inspired improvisation’ to achieve a measure of operational
relevance which surpassed most expectations.3
SI presciently envisaged in April 1943 that ‘Germany [was] a free territory for
intelligence and all planning should look towards an invasion of the continent’
when SI would ‘be asked to secure American intelligence from France and…be
able to move forward with the army and drop agents ahead of the army right up
to the frontier and into Germany itself’.4 SI also anticipated the likelihood that
‘there was a real source for agents from Prisoners of]/W[ar]’ since many of them
144 WILLIAM CASEY AND THE PENETRATION OF GERMANY
in France were not Germans at heart, and hated Nazism. Once identified and
trained, they could ‘be sent at once back into German lines to secure operational
intelligence’.5
The need to solidify its status in the ETO and to plan for collecting
intelligence with SIS in support of the Normandy invasion (the SUSSEX plan)
obviously intervened, but subsequent events undeniably bore out SI’s foresight.
Even before OVERLORD, an OSS/London Intelligence Planning Committee
was established ‘in an attempt to formulate and coordinate plans of the several
branches in respect to the development of work on the continent’.6 The successful
execution of OVERLORD, and with it SUSSEX, eventually provided a real
impetus for German operations based on SHAEF’s goodwill and enthusiasm for
continued OSS espionage. The OSS ETO Report revealed as early as 24 June
1944 SHAEF’s willingness to ‘support SI’ in any ‘work directed against
Germany’, particularly since SHAEF had no plans of its own.7 The SHAEF G-2
Operational Intelligence chief, Colonel Foord, subsequently admitted to one OSS
officer in August that SHAEF ‘had no specific intelligence objectives in mind
beyond the general fact that little was known of operational matters within
Germany, and that any information regarding location, strength, and movement
of troops and supplies, together with the state of morale, was of interest’; another
SHAEF officer ‘admitted that they simply had not done any planning for tactical
intelligence about Germany’.8 SI consequently appointed a Chief, Continental
Division on 29 June to formulate continental espionage plans, but it soon
transpired that its ‘proposed joint SI/SIS project for the penetration of Germany’
had to be ‘dropped’. Although it was intended as a ‘German Sussex Plan’,
Broadway rejected it without providing any specific reason.9 The Acting Chief
of SI Continental Division’s German Section, Major Aubrey H.Harwood,
recalled that he ‘was instructed to contact Major Gallenne, Chief of the German
Section, SIS, with a view to developing such a plan’ in mid-July. After several
meetings with Major Gallenne and his staff (including Major Day and
Lieutenant-Colonels Gardner and Brook), it ‘was recognized that the problem
was entirely different from the one which the Sussex plan was developed to
meet, as in that case the personnel [were] recruited by the French authorities’ to
operate ‘in friendly territory with Reception Committees and safe addresses
established in advance’. Gallenne and Brook both mooted the possibility of
securing ‘the necessary personnel…among the German prisoners of war’, or
alternatively from German refugees and Dutch, Belgian, and French contacts.
‘After several meetings and considerable discussion…and learning that it was the
consensus of opinion that prisoners of war were not desirable, a plan was finally
drawn up to be known as the Kent plan’. This envisaged SI and SIS together
recruiting 10 teams each consisting of an observer and W/T operator from the
Allied agencies, German refugees, and as a ‘last resort’, German prisoners. With
the 20 July attempt on Hitler’s life and ‘other complications and considerations’,
Broadway’s Commander Kenneth Cohen then advised OSS/London chief David
Bruce ‘that SIS had decided not to go ahead with’ KENT.10
AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON 145
SI/London was thus blessed with the opportunity to realize its long-term
espionage aims under the auspices of SHAEF, but cursed with the fact that its
proposals were deflected by the British. However frustrating Broadway’s attitude
may have appeared, SIS coolness toward OSS plans stemmed from a real
inability to participate as a full partner in any German scheme. Its most obvious
shortcoming concerned agent recruitment. While SI had confidently considered
using enemy prisoners as agents in 1943, SIS, SOE, and the Political Warfare
Executive had met on 10 February of that year ‘to discuss ways and means of
recruiting from among enemy Ps/W, personnel who might be of use’. It was
nevertheless ‘agreed that in view of the difficulties to be surmounted’, SIS and
SOE would be best served by recruiting prisoners for SIS/SOE ‘in the forward
areas by their representatives on the spot’.11 Not even this expedient was deemed
worth pursuing by the following August. ‘It was finally decided that the
difficulties in the way of using Ps/W for MI6 purposes, other than within the UK
were too great to make this practicable’ (SI ironically enough set about
establishing liaison with the British office responsible for P/W intelligence
matters—MI 19(a)—just as MI6 turned its back on the whole matter).12 SIS thus
forfeited a viable agent source in 1943 that would have been a critical asset in
1944. Broadway also suggested to Harwood that their section heads ‘were
opposed to requesting personnel from the Allied agencies’ (French, Dutch,
Belgian) because ‘personnel previously made available had suffered very high
casualties’, thereby making them unsympathetic to further recruitment. SIS
also doubted the prospects of physically getting agents into Germany, and
thought that counterfeiting German documents ‘was a tremendously difficult
undertaking’, if not in some cases ‘a practical impossibility’ (as seen in
Chapter 3, Broadway encountered enough problems meeting its documentation
requirements in France despite enjoying years of preparation). The ‘prospect of
revolution in Germany’ and the difficulties of rapidly formulating a training
course further mitigated against mobilizing limited resources for penetrating
Germany. Another unspoken factor may have been Broadway’s fear of SI’s
ability to build on the SUSSEX effort when Broadway could not: Harwood was
told by Gallenne that SIS interpreted the rules under which SI operated as
requiring British approval and ‘active collaboration’ in any intelligence work.
Harwood also found ‘a certain reluctance to putting the cards on the table with
[SI’s] British counterparts, and a general feeling which seemed to be one of
suspicion towards [SI’s] dealings with the other Allied agencies in general’.
Given SI’s subsequent independent development of PROUST in France,
Broadway’s tight-lipped lack of enthusiasm for KENT evidently betrayed a
sensitivity to the paucity of SIS resources, and doubts about its ability to
participate as first among equals in such a plan. SIS was hardly going to
advertise these delicate considerations to OSS.13
If OSS/London still hoped to penetrate Germany after the Normandy
campaign, it had to rely on its own devices; but it was still an open question
which OSS branch was best suited for the task. While SHAEF admittedly backed
146 WILLIAM CASEY AND THE PENETRATION OF GERMANY
SI, it also supported possible SO efforts into the Reich. The close relationship
between SO and SHAEF staff officers was expected to facilitate SO’s August
plans for controlling and coordinating all OSS efforts for penetrating Germany.14
William Donovan stressed as much in a 2 September memo on future central
European OSS operations: SHAEF had ‘accepted the principle we urged of
unblocking the joint control of [OSS/SOE] in such operations’, recognizing ‘that
to carry on aggressive subversion behind enemy lines we must vest authority in
our forward echelons’; OSS thus had to ‘do with its own force what previously
[it] had done largely through resistance groups [it had] organized and trained’.15
This purposeful air doubtless contributed to SHAEF’s anticipation in mid-
September that SO would play a significant role both before and after the
German surrender, and to SHAEF’s approval for SO and SOE to work
independently (but under SHAEF control) in Germany.16 SO’s Central European
Section (CES) was particularly enthusiastic about SHAEF plans for using special
raiding groups against personnel, documents and military objectives behind
enemy lines immediately preceding advancing allied forces. CES’s appreciation
still sounded a cautionary note: ‘The fact remains, as before, that we have only a
few agents, and our plans must be made accordingly, as there is no prospect of
obtaining others’.17 This 13 September caveat was subsequently borne out in a
matter of days. The 18 September SO Progress Report declared that time
constraints and ‘a lack of suitable personnel’ were handicapping plans for
Germany.18 An October report also noted that since SHAEF’s German policy
remained undefined, future OSS planning had been held up, although a draft SO/
SOE Policy Directive for Germany had been submitted to SHAEF at the end of
September.19 The difficulties facing such activities were reflected in a 24
September report to the British-Canadian 21st Army Group’s Planning Staff from
SOE’s Lieutenant-Colonel M.A.W.Rowlandson. The British perspective did not
hold out much hope for spectacular SOE-SO operations within the Reich since
there was no contact with any organized German resistance groups. This
naturally reduced the prospect of obtaining tactical military intelligence on the
scale enjoyed in France and Belgium. Rowlandson still suggested considering
‘groups and individuals who [could] be contacted and to assess their possible
value to our operations’. These included foreign workers inside Germany (who
might possibly be loosely coordinated for random sabotage), individual Germans
thought from pre-war information to be anti-Nazi (but more pro-German than
pro-Allies), and a few ‘coup de main’] currently earmarked for retrieving
German documents from newly captured installations. The question of effective
communications, however, made these possibilities problematic. Couriers were
‘very slow’, and two-way W/T was ‘considered NOT to be hopeful’.20
Rowlandson’s tentative analysis underscored the difficulties obstructing the
formulation of German plans. It also betrayed the sabotage services’ lack of
planning for German operations, as SOE was evidently grasping at any
potentially expeditious means of serving the military through penetrating
Germany. This desperation also influenced the possibilities for SO activity. One
AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON 147
SO officer recalls how in late 1944 the branch had not yet received any material
from its German desk for planning a German mission. There was no information
at all on dissident groups with guerrilla potential. He was also told that internal
security was ‘as tight as a drum in Germany’, and that Germans historically
deferred to authority.21 SO was thus sufficiently hard up to entertain
a visit from a US pilot who believed that he could have himself shot down
over Germany and, in the process of interrogation, work his way into the
confidence of responsible German officers to such an extent that they—
recognizing the inevitability of defeat and the possibility of saving their
own skins—might be willing to surrender in the entirety. This proposal
was not accepted.22
More seriously, it transpired toward the end of October that the British sector of
operations obviated SOE infiltration and exfiltration between Germany and the
British-Canadian 21st Army Group given the short direct front with Germany
and the difficult terrain. SHAEF therefore desired SOE to operate out of 12th US
Army Group’s sector, which had a sizable contiguous front with Germany, and
very suitable terrain in Luxembourg.23 This was potentially ideal for SO since it
established a good foundation for American domination, but that was not to be.
While the 1st US Army approved SOE activities in its sector, SO was largely
superfluous to these efforts. SI attributed this to ‘the unspoken politics of the
situation’ surrounding G-2 1st US Army’s overt hostility toward OSS, while the
Chief of SO/London went so far as to suggest that OSS lacked ‘real
representation in, for example, the Lowlands Mission [including Luxembourg],
that it was run by the British who would like to have it appear joint’.24 In
actuality, SO’s problems stemmed less from SOE deviousness than from a lack of
SO resources. SO admitted to suffering from a deficit in German speakers for
these operations, while also lacking ‘personnel to serve in a liaison capacity
between SO and SOE’. At this problem’s root was the branch’s failure to plan
for German operations before the end of September given its active concern with
French operations.25 The best that SO could manage by mid-January 1945 was
the conclusion that foreign workers presented a mounting obstacle in Germany,
and a plaintive request for ‘a firm directive from SHAEF, stating whether or not
plans should be laid for future delivery, [and] whether OSS (SO) [was] to work as
an independent agency’.26
This directive, broadly authorizing SO ‘to conduct activities to hasten the
surrender or disintegration of the German armed forces by subversive activities
in Germany, directed towards bringing about the downfall of Germany from
within’, proved forthcoming on 29 January, but SO still could not get anything
off the ground.27 As SHAEF concluded about SOE’s German activities after the
war, they ‘cannot be said to have hastened the end of, or affected the course of
the war’ beyond creating anxiety over internal security and straining German
148 WILLIAM CASEY AND THE PENETRATION OF GERMANY
should not be overlooked’. This was because such individuals were deemed more
‘approachable’ than the ‘big shots’, and perhaps more knowledgeable than their
superiors.33 All of this relentlessly ruthless planning ultimately came to naught,
however. When briefed on 11 April by Colonel J.R.Forgan, OSS/London’s new
chief, the Director of OSS vetoed the project. Donovan ‘feared too many
repercussions would be entailed from the employment of CALPO agents on such
a project’, and that ‘the plan would invite only trouble for OSS’. While agreeing
that the idea of kidnapping Gestapo personnel or Nazi leaders was ‘legitimate’,
Donovan said ‘that a plan entailing wholesale assassination was not to be
considered’, and ordered it withdrawn.34
Since SO’s efforts were repeatedly confounded after the French campaign, the
prospects for meaningful OSS operations against Germany thus rested squarely
with SI, even though its summer 1944 KENT plan for SI/SIS espionage in
Germany was aborted by Broadway’s inability to participate. The renaissance of
SI’s German prospects ultimately centred around the development of OSS/
London’s planning bureaucracy, and with it the innovations of a minor staff
member. The London mission utilized a Staff Operational Committee before
OVERLORD to formalize policy developments within its branches, and one
junior officer participating in the committee as a ‘free-lance’ minute-keeper and
secretary was former business lawyer William J.Casey.35 As head of American
intelligence some forty years later, Casey attracted considerable opprobrium for
his alleged role in politically controversial activities. Observers duly
characterized him as a largely guileful and devious political operative with a
typically American ‘can-do’ approach fostered during his experiences of covert
intelligence and money-making, with the mystique of his OSS background
adding to his reputation as a veteran ‘spook’.36 Casey’s role in penetrating
Germany suggests a more measured assessment, however. His memoirs clearly
illustrate a strong sense of personal allegiance to William Donovan while
downplaying his own leading role in events, a circumspect loyalty replicated for
his president as Director of Central Intelligence.37 Casey’s ‘can-do’ mentality
may also be more subtly described on the basis of his wartime work as a goal-
orientated tenacity of purpose married to a keen grasp of how to satisfy his
superiors’ vaguely defined needs. This attunement to his leaders’ wishes and
problems, the ability to construct workable solutions, and the competence to
make the most of available resources in executing them were the hallmarks of
Casey as inspired improviser. All of this accounts for how Casey became the
major force behind SI/London’s effective mobilization of OSS assets at a time
when there seemed to be little hope of accomplishing anything of consequence in
Germany.
By 6 June 1944 Casey was formally designated the OSS/London Secretariat,
tasked with overseeing the running of David Bruce’s office, and with embodying
a staff-capacity for the OSS/London leadership by bringing policy matters to
their attention.38 Casey soon realized, however, that SI’s long range plans were
largely non-existent or still-born. This was particularly obvious after Casey
150 WILLIAM CASEY AND THE PENETRATION OF GERMANY
returned from an August Mediterranean trip where he observed the use of Ps/W
as agents for the potential penetration of Austria and southern Germany.39 The
experience contributed to Casey’s own thinking on the matter, whereupon he
penned a lengthy memo to David Bruce on 11 September outlining his views on
‘Urgently needed discussions’. Casey submitted that there was an ‘immediate
need for basic top policy decisions’ concerning geographic and functional
organization for controlling the penetration of Germany, and regarding agent
recruitment. Casey also stressed the need for ‘clear decisions on who [would be]
responsible for what in the next phase’. Casey went on to detail some obvious
innovations for which OSS was uniquely suited:
Geographic unification
Functional unification
compete in recruiting, which they are now doing. They must make
common use of safe houses, radio and reception facilities. They must
not be allowed to build up three networks in one area and leave other
important areas uncovered. Right now SI has a…plan worked out
with SHAEF which will provide lift into Germany for SI German
speaking bodies in the event of a collapse. Because SI worked this
plan out there has been no provision for SO and MO German
speaking bodies who might be useful in the event of a German
surrender.
The Italian experience establishes the feasibility of multiple
purpose agents. There all agents, whether SO or SI in origin, procure
intelligence, support resistance and sabotage and aid in the
distribution of black propaganda…
Moreover, at certain times intelligence procurement is the most
valuable thing agents can do, at other times [it’s] operations and at
still other times propaganda distribution will be the most valuable
use of agents. In preparation for an action intelligence may rate top
priority, during an action sabotage may be most useful and after an
action has succeeded propaganda to exploit the setback to the enemy
may be most effective…
(a) A separate task force is set up for the penetration with a director, staff
and all available agents. SI, SO and MO perform their supplementary
functions and use the network developed as previously indicated.
(b) SI is assigned to carry out the penetration and takes over MO and SO
agent resources. This on the theory that SI now has the great bulk of agent
resources and plans for penetration of Germany and that the intelligence
job is basic and preliminary to satisfactory MO and SO work.
(c) The branches continue to function independently under the loose
coordination which a committee or staff can achieve.
agent recruitment and training, the great crippler of SO and British schemes. The
largest source of potential agents within SI was the branch’s Labor Division
(thanks to its contacts with European labour groups), but this element was geared
primarily toward short-range tactical missions. Deep penetration missions
conversely took between four to six weeks of preparing an agent with
supplementary training and the necessary documents. This time was necessary for
‘getting to know’ the agent, mission formulation, acquiring briefing directives,
obtaining clothing, security vetting, and receiving formal mission approval from
OPSAF.59 That September, a forward base had been established in Luxembourg
for radio training and agent recruitment, but the rapid pace of military operations
was too great for it to conduct long-range planning (now concentrated in
London), confining it instead to medium/short-range infiltration teams.60
Codenamed MILWAUKEE FORWARD, its profile may have been too high to
be completely successful anyway. One OSS officer recounted to a colleague in
December that a man ‘turned up at Milwaukee Forward…and said that he
wanted a job as a secret agent for the US Government. Of course, they clapped
him in the clink but discovered later that he had been referred to OSS by the
local G-5 [Civil Affairs Staff Officer], How’s your cover?’61 The bulk of DIP’s
agents accordingly had to be collected from a variety of sources, subject to
British clearance procedures (the SI War Diary specifically notes that the
‘British…never took advantage of their security powers’ to ‘prevent OSS from
using certain types of agents’).62 Ps/W were still excluded, but members of
resistance movements in recently liberated countries with contacts among
German dissident or worker organizations were of particular interest for DIP
canvassing efforts. Church dissidents, veterans of the Spanish Civil War, and
communists (including several CALPO members) were all sources of agent
trainees.63 The French, Polish, Belgian, and Dutch intelligence services were also
pressured by OSS liaison teams and the respective SI country desks to provide
any suitable bodies for insertion in the guise of conscripted foreign workers (the
most significant OSS liaison missions were Paris; ESPINETTE in Brussels,
Belgium; and MELANIE in Eindhoven, Holland).64
Agent training by the Poles, Belgians, etc., was done locally, while for
London-controlled missions, it was conducted mainly in England: parachuting at
Ringway, basic SI training lectures at Area F’ at Ruislip.65 Training facilities had
not been set up before 14 October because previous instruction of OSS agents
had largely been done jointly with SIS or SOE. Personnel training for DIP’s
German work, however, was now the sole responsibility of OSS/London (by the
end of December, the Schools and Training branch noted that its teaching
material included ‘a dozen [unnamed] books of the most technically interesting
spy stories. More [were] being procured’).66 The Censorship and Documents
branch produced fake documents, although the BACH section of SI’s Labour
Division was subsequently transferred to DIP in January 1945 to aid in cover and
briefing; the Research and Development branch handled agent equipment. The
success of these supporting elements placed ‘OSS in a position where the British
AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON 155
came to OSS for help on German cover stories and documents more often than
the reverse’.67 A singularly critical development concerned communications.
This involved an invention of a radio set by Dewitt Goddard of the RCA
corporation which enabled air-to-ground communication. Using an extremely
high frequency, the sets were hand held and transmitted a directional cone-
shaped beam. The frequency and directional features made it resistant to
anything but the most elaborate enemy direction-finding equipment, and the
aircraft with which the agents communicated could fly at high altitude without
betraying the agent’s location. The system, codenamed JOAN ELEANOR or J/E
for short, was also secure enough to permit plain voice transmissions; this was an
improvement over the KLAXON system employed by SUSSEX teams in
Normandy.68 The problem of deep agent air dispatch (as opposed to overland
from Holland and Belgium) was addressed by the US Army Air Force’s
provision of A-26 medium aircraft for parachute delivery. This method would
begin operating on 1 March 1945, thereby supplementing the expedient use of
B-24s.69
As DIP’s necessary mobilization of OSS resources gained momentum, the
issue of employing the agents to support the military was also resolved. The
December 1944 German Ardennes offensive had naturally ‘resulted in an acute
awareness that Allied forces were going into Germany blind and in a genuine
appreciation of the intelligence that had been extracted from France both before
and after the invasion’.70 The Ardennes offensive had in fact caused an
immediate demand for tactical intelligence ‘as the battle developed’, making for
‘an intensification of short-range infiltration under the direction of the various
field detachments’ attached to the armies (note that the separate SI, SF, and SCI
detachments were merged into unified OSS detachments with each HQ in
October 1944); ‘results were apparent in increased short-range tactical
penetrations of the German lines and in the joint effort of the Brussels
[ESPINETTE] mission and SIS to build up a network of stay-behind teams in
German-overrun areas’ (in part by using German Ps/W) ‘provided [SHAEF]
G-2’s permission were secured and the prisoners were not registered by the Red
Cross’.71 This experience obviously accounted for the US Army’s renewed
appreciation for OSS intelligence, which manifested itself in early January 1945
when Casey, Forgan, and Gamble met with the G-2s of the 6th and 12th US Army
Groups, and of the 3rd and 7th US Armies (1st US Army G-2 B.A.Dickson had
already made it clear on 20 December that he ‘did not desire tactical assistance
from OSS’ except under 12th AG).
All of these men were very strong in their view that it was of much greater
importance to have agents placed the other side of the Rhine in key transport
centers than to have agents move a few miles across the line and return. They
were acutely interested in what OSS could produce in the way of that kind
of intelligence during the first half of 1945. They were planning on the
necessity of fighting through to the fall of 1945, and they had been shaken
156 WILLIAM CASEY AND THE PENETRATION OF GERMANY
of intelligence; this despite SIS complaints about OSS ‘duplication’ and ‘general
confusion’).79
With OSS in a position to cover north German tactical intelligence, and to
launch a serious deep penetration effort across the Rhine, Casey’s project was
finally able to act on the months of planning and improvisation. Up to mid-
February, a total of 12 OSS teams were dispatched to Germany, and one to
occupied Holland; there were eight from the Labor Desk and one former MO
team sent under SI/London’s auspices, one each from MELANIE and the 9th US
Army OSS Detachment, and three from the 7th US Army OSS Detachment. The
first three Labor Desk missions used the slow courier method of communication,
including the initial agent codenamed DOWNEND, who parachuted without
reception on 1 September to gather intelligence for OSS and organize resistance
for SOE. DOWNEND’s experience represented this method’s weakness: only two
pouches of intelligence materials were exfiltrated, while SOE and the agent
could not agree on the location or safety of proposed drop zones for arms and
supplies. Once overrun on 9 April, he was able to provide tactical intelligence
and names of further ‘pro-Allied’ contacts in the Ruhr (the other two missions,
RUPPERT and RAGWEED, were infiltrated overland to Berlin and the Ruhr in
November). Two of SI/London’s agents were ‘tourists’, dropped 50 to 100 miles
behind enemy lines (ECLIPSE to Dusseldorf in December, and HOFER to
Austria in January) and ordered ‘to follow a prescribed route and to check
specific points on the way back to the American lines’. Two teams using
conventional W/T equipment (RUBENS and STUDENT) were inserted in
January and February; one using the J/E system (TYL) went in on 10 November.
REUBENS and TYL were, however, soon captured.80
The February–March moon period then proved detrimental to oper ations, with
seven straight days of bad weather scrubbing ‘all operations’ toward the end of
February. London managed to dispatch only five of 12 operations in this period,
the rest being nullified by weather, poor coordination with the Air Force, or poor
conditions at the second-rate Lyons airfield relied upon because of the weather.
Of the 7th US Army operations, three tourist teams returned with reports (MIMI,
COCO, LULU), but W/T team PITT established only brief contact before
capture, another (DUBUQE) was killed, while J/E team TROY disappeared after
initial contact.81
It was ‘the climactic Allied offensive’ of the Rhine crossing that allowed OSS
teams to mount a truly ‘large-scale penetration of enemy territory’.82 The
massive airborne operations connected with the Rhine crossing coincided with
the greater availability of aircraft and radio equipment for air-dropping agents.83
In anticipating the Rhine offensive, 12th US Army Group G-2 Brigadier General
Sibert requested ‘coverage of Frankfurt, Giessen, Arfurt, Fulda and Kassel’, all of
which ‘were laid on in a few days’, including London missions OLD
FASHIONED (Geissen, W/T), PINK LADY (Erfurt, W/T), and HIGHBALL
(Kassel, W/T).84 Three particularly successful missions were HAMMER (J/E)
dropped near Berlin on 2 March; CHAUFFEUR to Regensberg on 31 March (W/
158 WILLIAM CASEY AND THE PENETRATION OF GERMANY
Germany where they were rapidly overrun by the advancing armies.’98 Casey
noted that ‘[virtually all of the teams were able to supply valuable tactical
intelligence to the troop elements which overran them’. In efforts that could have
proven useful to SO’s CROSS project, three teams penetrated the
Sicherheitsdienst and Gestapo (including one each in Berlin and Munich), and
others identified many local Nazis.99 SIRA/Paris circulated only one report from
SI/ETO assets in February 1945, but five J/E and W/T teams produced
intelligence during March; three of these became unproductive by the end of the
month through overruns, etc. Of the March production, there ‘were a single
report from a source in Oberhausen providing some purely tactical information
[,]…seven excellent tactical reports from Dinslaken, and identification of elements
of the 116th Panzer Division and 84th Infantry Division which were of strategic
interest’. A single report was also received concerning a resistance group near
Munich, while a Berlin report contained ‘miscellaneous local industrial and
communications data’ of obvious relevance to targeting air bombardment. A
further two reports contained several useful troop identifications from a source in
Mannheim which was thereafter overrun.100
SI/London’s German operations thus provided the military with precisely the
kind of information it wanted at a time when the exploitation of ULTRA
material declined given the German Army’s increased use of land-line
communications as it retreated into the Reich. Since reduced radio usage ensured
that German troop movements and locations were betrayed less often, the utility
of agent reports relative to ULTRA grew accordingly.101 The military’s repeated
demands for agents on shallow missions to report tactical intelligence, and their
support of missions to the Elbe and the supposed Redoubt area, both indicate
their need for intelligence on the state of German installations, defences, and
troop movements as they drove deeper into the Reich. A post-war assessment by
G-2 12th AG specifically noted that OSS agents helped provide the balance of
information regarding routes of enemy withdrawal and strong defensive
positions supplemented by prisoners and air-photo coverage.102 The fluid
advance into Germany combined with the disintegrating German defence to
obscure the military picture, and the high-quality intelligence of OSS agents gave
American G-2s timely insights into enemy defences and the dubious prospects for
a last-stand bastion in the Alps. No other source of intelligence was as useful in
reliably discerning such details in the closing months of the war, and it must be
stressed that these evaluations of the penetration’s significance did not originate
from within SI alone, but from knowledgeable consumers like G-2 and SIRA.103
The British effort in Germany appears paltry in comparison with OSS/
London’s. Whatever minimizing has been done of SI’s penetration programme,
its 102 missions far outstripped the 30-plus British missions. The delay in
initiating planning, the weather, the pace of the Allied ground advance, and the
communications difficulties may have complicated SI’s work, but Casey’s
programme far exceeded that managed by the established British services; his
‘British colleagues were amazed at the volume [of operations] finally
AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON 161
NOTES
2. British lukewarm and ULTRA: West, Secret War, pp. 242–3, and West, MI6, p. 379
—on ULTRA, see also Joseph E.Persico, Piercing the Reich: The Penetration of
Nazi Germany by American Secret Agents during World War II (New York:
Viking, 1979), p. 14; Ambrose, Ike’s, p. 143 claims that OSS had only four men in
Germany who produced no intelligence.
3. ‘Inspired’ remark on OSS in general by Gordon Craig in 1991, cited in
MacPherson, ‘Conference Report’, p. 513.
4. The 1943 plans are in ‘Meeting of London Branch SI to consider operational base
in London’, 23 April 1943, Folder 424, Box 319, Entry 190; the remarks on
Germany are by OSS/London head David Bruce; see also SI Branch Report,
European Theater Report, August 1943, Folder 1a, Box 1, Entry 99; both in RG
226, NARA.
5. The P/W point was made by SI’s Stacey Lloyd in the ‘Meeting’, 23 April 1943.
6. ETO Officers Pouch Report, 12 June 1944—see also ETO Officers Pouch Report,
2 June 1944, citing memo Maddox to Haskell of 22 May; both in Folder 38, Box 9,
Entry 99, RG 226, NARA..
7. European Theater Office Report, 24 June 1944, Folder 35, Box 8, Entry 99, RG
226, NARA; ETO Officers Pouch Report, 12 June 1944.
8. SHAEF admissions: Maj. Ides van der Gracht to Robert MacLeod and George
Pratt, 21 August 1944, Folder 325, Box 314, Entry 190—see also van der Grachtt’s
SI Liaison Officer Progress Report for 15 August–11 September 1944, Folder 5,
Box 2, Entry 99; ETO Officers Pouch Report, 10 July, 1944, Folder 39, Box 9,
Entry 99; all in RG 226, NARA.
9. ‘OSS Activities, July 1944’, Folder 117, Box 93, Entry 99, RG 226, NARA.
10. ‘Report by Maj. Aubrey H. Harwood on OSS, SI Activities’, 4 November 1944,
Folder 46a#3, Box 11, Entry 99; see also cable #61884, Bruce to Donovan, 20 July
1944 seeking guidance on future SI plans and German planning, Reel 77, Entry
180; both in RG 226, NARA.
11. On 10 February 1943 meeting, see MI 19(a) War Diary, Summary of Events,
February 1943, WO 165/41, PRO.
12. The ‘finally decided’ quote is from MI19(a) War Diary, Summary of Events,
August 1943, WO 165/41, PRO; the War Diary also cites 15 August 1944, rather
than 1943, as the date of liaison establishment with OSS, but this appears to be a
typo-graphical error as 1943 makes more sense from the document’s context.
13. Harwood report; see also Persico, Piercing, p. 14.
14. European Theater Office Report, 10 August 1944, Folder 36, Box 8, Entry 99, RG
226, NARA.
15. Donovan quote is from ‘Future Office of Strategic Services Operations in Central
Europe’, 2 September 1944, Folder 61, Box 220, Entry 92, RG 226, NARA; see
also Peter Wilkinson and Joan Bright Astley, Gubbins and SOE (London: Leo
Cooper, 1997), pp. 211–13.
16. European Theater Office Report, 12 September 1944, Folder 36, Box 8, Entry 99,
RG 226, NARA.
17. Stewart Herman, to Col Haskell, 13 September 1944, Folder 5, Box 2, Entry 99,
RG 226, NARA.
18. SO Semi-monthly Section Progress Reports, 1–15 September 1944, dated 18
September 1944, Folder 5, Box 2, Entry 99, RG 226, NARA.
AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON 163
46. General Order No. 12, 27 October 1944, Folder 61, Box 220, Entry 92; see also
OPSAF ‘Standard Operating Procedures’, 2 November 1944; for continued Casey
assignments, see Jackson to Forgan, 23 October 1944; both in Folder 1, Box 51, Entry
115; all in RG 226, NARA.
47. Jackson to Bruce and Armour, 30 November 1944, Folder 152, Box 212, Entry 190,
RG 226, NARA.
48. Minutes of Planning Board meeting, 19 September 1944, Folder 61, Box 220,
Entry 92, RG 226, NARA.
49. Planning and Operations Board Report, 26 September 1944, Folder 61, Box 220,
Entry 92, RG 226, NARA.
50. ‘Minutes of Meeting Held at SOE HQ’, 13 January 1945, Folder 1265, Box 285,
Entry 190, RG 226, NARA.
51. Jackson to Canfield, 23 December 1944, Folder 1265, Box 285, Entry 190; MI6/
OSS mutual clearance agreement signed by Col R.E.Brook and Col E.W Gamble,
31 January 1945, Folder 2002, Box 117, Entry 148; see also Coster to Haskell on 5
October Meeting with Brig. Williams, 21st Army Group [BGS (I)], 7 October 1944,
Folder 2054, Box 119, Entry 148; all in RG 226, NARA.
52. ‘Minutes of Meeting Held at SOE HQ’, 13 January 1945, Folder 1265, Box 285,
Entry 190, RG 226, NARA.
53. ‘Prohibitive’ quote and 30 SIS/SOE teams from Chief, SI (William Casey) to CO,
OSS, ‘Final Report on SI Operations into Germany’, 24 July 1945, Folder 518, Box
325, Entry 190, RG 226, NARA; this clearly numbers OSS missions into Germany
as eventually totalling 102, and states that these were ‘three times those of SIS and
SOE in number’, hence ‘just over 30’ British missions; Roosevelt, II, pp. 305–6,
defines OSS missions as those dropped by air directly from London, a total of 34,
thus misstating the basis of the one-third British ratio; West, Secret, pp. 241–2,
relies on Roosevelt while badly garbling and confusing the narrative of SOE and
OSS penetration; Stafford, Resistance, p. 188 states that SOE/SIS sent 19 agents to
Germany, mostly for denazification efforts.
54. Planning Board Report, 26 September 1944; fear of controls also in Planning Board
Minutes, 19 September 1944; both in Folder 61, Box 220, Entry 92, RG 226,
NARA.
55. Planning Board Minutes, 19 September 1944.
56. Casey to Ernest Brooks and John Greedy, 12 July 1945, Folder 94, Box 300, Entry
190, RG 226, NARA.
57. Ibid.
58. ‘War Diary, OSS/London, SI Branch, Vol. 12, German Operations, 1945’, pp. 4–5,
10–11, in Bradley F. Smith (ed.), Covert Warfare, Vol. II: The Spy Factory and
Secret Intelligence (New York: Garland, 1989); SI reorganization detail is in
‘Organization of SI/ETO’, 31 March 1945, Folder 1911, Box 111, Entry 148, RG
226, NARA.
59. Labor Division and requirements for deep penetration missions: A.E.Jolis, Labour
Division, to Plans and Operations, 20 November 1944, Folder 254, Box 310, Entry
190; on agent sources, see also ‘War Diary, SI, 12’, pp. 26–7, and Stacy B.Lloyd to
Donovan, 5 February 1945, Reel 125, Entry 180; all in RG 226, NARA; see also
‘War Diary, OSS/London, SI Branch, Vol. 6, Labor Division’, in OSS/London, Reel
7.
166 WILLIAM CASEY AND THE PENETRATION OF GERMANY
60. ETO Officers Pouch Report, 5 October 1944, Folder 40, Box 9, and OSS Activities
Report, September 1944, Folder 119, Box 93, both in Entry 99, RG 226, NARA.
61. Unknown author to Charles Bane, 16 December 1944, Folder 984, Box 269, Entry
190, RG 226, NARA.
62. ‘War Diary, SI, 12’, pp. 34–9.
63. Agent recruitment: Casey to Brooks and Greedy; P/W exclusion: Harwood report;
doubts about the reliability of German prisoners: Report of E.M.Carroll, 12 June
1945, Folder 46a#2, Box 11, Entry 99; British and SI attitudes to German prisoners
and CALPO: Report of Donald K.Adams, Folder 680, Box 49, Entry 146; all in RG
226, NARA; on agent recruitment, see also Casey, Secret, pp. 189–90.
64. OSS liaison missions: ‘War Diary, SI, 12’, pp. 90–1; Country Desks: ‘War Diary,
SI, 12’, 136–402; on MELANIE and ESPINETTE, see ‘War Diary, OSS/London,
SI Branch, Vol. 7, Miscellaneous Operations with Allied Services’, pp. 9–33, in
OSS/London, Reel 8.
65. ‘War Diary, SI, 12’, pp. 37–8.
66. ‘British opposites’: OSS Activities Report, October 1944, Folder 120, Box 93; ‘spy
stories’: Progress Report on Instruction, S&T Branch, 30 December 1944, Folder
8, Box 4; both in Entry 99, RG 226, NARA.
67. ‘Final Report on SI Operations’; see also Adams report; BACH in ‘War Diary, SI,
6’, pp. 137–75.
68. Communications and J/E in ‘War Diary, SI, 12’, pp. 92–3; J/E also in Casey,
Secret, pp. 186–7.
69. ‘Final Report on SI Operations’.
70. Ibid.
71. Ardennes detail: OSS Activities Report, December 1944, Folder 122, Box 94,
Entry 99; merging of detachments: Bruce to All Detachments and Missions, 30
October 1944, Folder 166, Box 214, Entry 190; both in RG 226, NARA.
72. 1st US Army G-2 attitude from Lt-Col John H.Colby memo ‘OSS Operations in
Zone of First US Army’, 20 December 1944, Folder 365, Box 316, Entry 190, RG
226, NARA; Casey-Forgan-Gamble meeting with G-2s, including the extended
quote: Casey to Brooks and Creedy—see also ‘War Diary, SI, 12’, pp. 21–2.
73. ‘Best balance’: Casey to Shepardson, S-009–107, in European-Mediterranean
Pouch Review, 18 January 1945, Folder 37, Box 9; priority for resources: Forgan,
Gamble and Casey to 154, 22 January 1945, in European-Mediterranean Cable
Digest, 24 January 1945, Folder 41, Box 10; both in Entry 99; see also James
R.Forgan to CG 12th Army Group on ‘Plans for OSS Activities in 12th Army
Group Sector’, 27 January 1945, and Forgan to Donovan, 13 February 1945, both
in Reel 125, Entry 180; all in RG 226, NARA.
74. OSS Activities Report for January 1945, Folder 123, Box 94, Entry 99; BI defined
in Capt. G.E.Borst to G.S.Platt, Monthly Progress Report, 6 December 1943,
Folder 3, Box 80, Entry 92, RG 226, NARA.
75. Low Countries Desk SI Report for February 1945, Folder 3, Box 80, Entry 92, RG
226, NARA.
76. Operational Report for period ending 17 March 1945 from OSS Mission to the
Netherlands, 18 March 1945, Folder 11, Box 5, Entry 99, RG 226, NARA.
77. Intelligence Report for week ending 31 March from Mission Melanie, 2 April 1945,
Folder 12, Box 5, Entry 99, RG 226, NARA.
AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON 167
78. LaVerge to Casey, 25 December 1944 and Casey to Philip Horton, 26 December
1944, Folder 2/12, Box 2, Entry 115, RG 226, NARA.
79. ‘Cousins’: LaVerge to SI Staff, London, Attention: Dr MacLeod, 30 November
1944, Folder 2/12, Box 2, Entry 115, RG 226, NARA; 21st Army Group BGS (I)
views: Coster to Haskell memo concerning the meeting with Brig. Williams, 7
October 1944, cited above; SIS complaints: ‘War Diary, SI, 7’, pp. 13–14.
80. ‘War Diary, SI, 12’, p. 130, and Sheet Number 1 (‘SI Intelligence Teams
Dispatched to Germany, September 1944–May 1945’); see also Roosevelt, II, pp.
308–9; ‘tourists’ methodology and quote in ‘Final Report on SI Operations’; SOE
connection to DOWNEND in West, Secret War, p. 242.
81. ‘War Diary, SI, 12’, pp. 131–2, and Sheet Number 1; SI Operations Status attached
to ‘Organization of SI/ETO’; see also the Field Report of Air Dispatch Officer
Maj. Jacques H.Beau, 20 September 1945, Folder 46a#l, Box 11, Entry 99, RG 226,
NARA.
82. OSS Activities Report for March 1945, Folder 125, Box 94, Entry 99, RG 226,
NARA.
83. ‘War Diary, SI, 12’, p. 132, and Field Report of Stephen Vinciguerra, 23 June 1945,
Folder 46b#4, Box 11a, Entry 99, RG 226, NARA.
84. Casey to Brooks and Greedy; see also 12th US AG Operational report for 18–24
March, dated 28 March 1945 regarding a 23 March meeting between Sibert and
Maj.-Gen. Kenneth Strong, G-2 SHAEF with Col Colby, 12th Army Group OSS
Detachment commander, Folder 12, Box 5, Entry 99, RG 226, NARA; see also
‘War Diary, SI, 12’, Sheet Number 1.
85. ‘War Diary, SI, 12’, p. 133, and Sheet Number 1; Roosevelt, II, pp. 309–11.
86. ‘War Diary, SI, 12’, pp. 132–3.
87. Casey to Brooks and Greedy, and 12th Army Group OSS Detachment Weekly
Report, 10 April 1945, Folder 12, Box 5, Entry 99, RG 226, NARA; ‘War Diary,
SI, 12’, Sheet Number 1.
88. See The IORS/DID project on the Alpine Redoubt (January to May 1945)’, Folder
‘Redoubt Project’, Box 4, Entry 75, RG 226, NARA, and Rodney G.Minott, The
Fortress that Never Was: The Myth of Hitler’s Bavarian Stronghold (New York:
Holt, Rinehart, Winston, 1964); see also Petersen, (ed.), Doorstep, pp. 429–30, 447–
9, 450–1, 461–2, 472–3, 484–5, 492–3, 504–5, 513.
89. ‘War Diary, SI, 12’, pp. 132–3 and Sheet Number 1; Roosevelt, II, pp. 310–11.
90. ‘War Diary, SI, 12’, p. 131.
91. ‘Final Report on SI Operations’.
92. Minutes of Meeting of Field Detachment Commanding Officers, 12th AG, 23
February 1945, dated 28 February 1945, Folder 10, Box 4, Entry 99; see also G-2
‘Study of Operations’ for the period 1 August 1944 to 9 May 1945, pp. 18, 36,
Folder 83, Box 300, Entry 190; both in RG 226, NARA.
93. ‘Final Report on SI Operations’.
94. Ibid.
95. J/E contact statistics from ‘Individual Contacts’ invoice and ‘Comparative Figures’
attached to DIP Contact Office Final Report, 26 May 1945 (which also covers
contact procedures), Folder 495, Box 49, Entry 110; W/T contact percentage from
‘War Diary, SI, 12’, Sheet Number 1; W/T relay procedure in two Casey memos to
George Pratt, both dated 13 March 1945, Folder 1078, Box 276, Entry 190; see also
168 WILLIAM CASEY AND THE PENETRATION OF GERMANY
Report of Douglas W Alden, 20 August 1945, Folder 46a#l, Box 11, Entry 99; all
in RG 226, NARA.
96. ‘Final Report on SI Operations’.
97. ‘War Diary, SI, 12’, pp. 28–9, 134, and Sheet Number 1.
98. ‘War Diary, SI, 12’, p. 29—see also p. 135.
99. ‘Final Report on SI Operations’—see also Casey, Secret, pp. 211–13.
100. ‘War Diary, OSS/London, Secret Intelligence Branch, Vol. 8, Reports Division’,
pp. 358–9, Reel 5, Entry 91, RG 226, NARA.
101. On ULTRA and land-lines, see Bennett, Ultra in the West, pp. 221, 247–8, who
naturally focuses on the information still gleaned from SIGINT; for ULTRA and
the general tactical picture after the Ardennes offensive, see Hinsley, III, (2), pp.
663–90, 711–46.
102. G-2 ‘Study of Operations’ for the period 1 August 1944 to 9 May 1945, p. 52.
103. On assessing the Redoubt, see Casey, Secret, pp. 205–8, Bennett, Ultra in the
West, pp. 257–62, and Weigley, Lieutenants, pp. 700–3; cf. Persico, Piercing, pp.
333–5.
104. ‘Final Report on SI Operations’.
105. Overestimation of difficulties: ‘War Diary, SI, 12’, pp. 3–4; see also Col. V Lada-
Mocarski to Donovan through Chief SI, 27 January 1945, Folder 46b#l, Box 11,
Entry 99, RG 226, NARA.
106. Cf. Persico, Piercing, pp. 15–18, and Persico, Casey, pp. 64–8, 83; Casey
admittedly downplayed his role to Persico; he certainly neglected to mention his
geographic/functional integration proposals in his own memoirs.
107. SI and MI6/ULTRA: Rositzke to Horton, 16 February 1945, Horton to Casey, 17
February 1945, and Horton to Gamble, 18 February 1945, Folder 1998, Box 117,
Entry 148, RG 226, NARA—the material attached by Rositzke is clearly derived
from ULTRA given its breadth, specificity, and general content; B.F.Smith,
Shadow, p. 172, notes the general exclusion of OSS from signals intelligence.
7
Following the British Example: X-2 and
Morale Operations
(V) was organized into regional sections sub-divided by country desks. At its
1944 peak, MI6(V) numbered about 60 officers at home and another 60 abroad.2
The major operation involving this two-service set-up was the DOUBLE
CROSS system. This was the most significant counter-espionage programme
operated within Britain against the German Intelligence Service, or Abwehr. It
involved countering German espionage through using controlled enemy agents,
and originated in a 1936 approach to SIS by an electrical engineer working in
Germany. The engineer, codenamed SNOW, agreed to serve as a British agent
and deliver intelligence information, but the Abwehr subsequently recruited him
to operate against the British. After SIS intercepted letters to his German
controller, he was forced to continue operating as a straight German agent while
misleading the Abwehr with the impression that he was running a string of sub-
agents inside Britain, agents that were strictly notional. SNOW eventually lost
contact with Germany in August 1939. Upon the outbreak of war, he was
incarcerated by the British and made to re-establish contact with Germany using
an Abwehr transmitter he had received in January 1939—but this time, under
British direction. Once this transpired, it permitted MI6 to expose Germany’s
espionage organization, codes, and ciphers, thereby allowing SIS to read other
German messages and to master the entire German espionage system. These
messages were intercepted by the Radio Security Service (RSS) and codenamed
ISOS (Intelligence Service Oliver Strachey). Misleading information provided to
Germany by SNOW concerning the forgery of British identity documents then
allowed the Security Service to identify and capture a string of parachute agents
who landed in England during summer 1940, including future double-agents
SUMMER and TATE. Two businessmen with foreign contacts, TRICYCLE and
DRAGONFLY, also began working for Britain in 1940 after the Abwehr
attempted their recruitment. Thus by the end of 1940, Germany had made an
effort to create a spy organization in Britain, while MI5 and MI6(V) had the luxury
of bringing that organization under British control by turning the Abwehr’s
network into a double-cross system. This active running and controlling of
German espionage within Britain developed seven objectives, ‘the creed of
double-cross’: controlling the enemy system, catching fresh spies, gaining
knowledge of Abwehr personnel and tactics, gaining knowledge about the
Abwehr’s codes and ciphers, obtaining evidence on German plans, influencing
enemy plans through providing deceptive information, and masking Allied plans
and intentions.3
The successive capture of German agents, and the choice they faced between
summary execution and accepting British control, gave British counter-
intelligence an unparalleled advantage over Germany throughout the war,
especially with ULTRA intelligence allowing Britain to monitor German
reactions to the fake information and deception material supplied by DOUBLE
CROSS agents. The mechanisms controlling the agents, however, reflected the
major shortcoming of Britain’s intelligence system as a whole, outlined in
Chapter 1. An agent captured beyond the three-mile limit automatically passed
X-2 AND MORALE OPERATIONS 171
under MI6 control; another caught within that limit came under MI5’s direction.
Within Britain, however, DOUBLE CROSS’S growing complexity initiated
changes to the existing improvised coordination practices. The double-agents’
dissemination of false information was delegated to a W Board in September
1940. It consisted of the service intelligence chiefs, ‘C’, and the head of MI5’s B
division (and later the head of the Home Defence Executive [HDE]), but this
proved too high a level for the system’s day-to-day control. A W Board sub-
committee was accordingly established in January 1941 known as the Twenty
Committee (DOUBLE CROSS = XX=Twenty). Representatives were drawn
from service intelligence, HDE, GHQ Home Forces, and MI6; MI5 provided the
committee’s chair and secretary (a SHAEF staff officer was duly added in 1944).
The Twenty Committee met 226 times between 2 January 1941 and 10 May
1945 to coordinate the content of, and manner in which, selected accurate facts
and misinformation were passed to the enemy. Throughout this period, the
committee enjoyed no charter or precise delineation of authority, with the
assumption eventually accepted that MI5 and MI6 together would use the
DOUBLE CROSS machine to perform the actual running of the double agents.4
Conflicts nevertheless arose concerning control of GARBO and TRICYCLE, and
MI5 pressed for a more offensive use of DOUBLE CROSS throughout the
second half of 1942. Other conflicts arose outside the Twenty Committee,
notably after MI6 assumed responsibility for RSS in May 1941, and with it the
control, analysis, and dissemination of ISOS. MI5 came to believe that SIS
con trol over RSS, ISOS, and after December 1941, Enigma-based German
espionage traffic (codenamed ISK) precluded sufficiently close working
relations between MI5 and GCHQ, thus preventing MI5 from seeing all
necessary information relative to Britain’s domestic security.5 MI5 subsequently
conceded the importance of MI6(V)’s overseas counter-espionage in 1942, but it
still felt that Section V lacked enough staff to deal with it. MI5’s
recommendation that it absorb Section V was rejected that year, although MI6
(V)’s concurrent move to London helped facilitate closer liaison between the two.6
While MI5 and MI6 experienced minimal friction within the Twenty
Committee during the rest of the war (doubtless because the stakes involved
concentrated the minds of all concerned), espionage and CI nevertheless
continued to deal with two sides of the same coin. This reality led to the
conclusion that MI5 and MI6(V) should combine as far as possible, or at least
agree to complete record-sharing.7 MI6(V) and MI5 duplicated much work since
MI5 received all relevant information on enemy intelligence services operating
against Britain, with each service’s records covering much of the same ground.
Indeed, while they each maintained entirely separate registries, the services both
maintained files on the same subjects, with largely the same information. In light
of this duplication and the difficulties connected with distinguishing between the
problems of domestic and external security intelligence, proposals were
submitted in June 1944 regarding an MI5-MI6(V) combination with a single
central security registry, but to no avail.8 British security intelligence thus
172 AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON
relationships, and the unspoken necessity to vet and indoctrinate the Americans
on ISOS/ISK must also have been a factor. In any event, the status of OSS CI
was soon resolved as James Murphy (a former legal colleague of William
Donovan) arrived in April, closely followed by Dana Durand, Robert Blum,
Hubert Will, and future X-2/London chief Norman Pearson.18 G-2/ETO settled
for liaison with MI6(V), although G-2 Washington made a second assault on CI
in August, at which point Bruce informed Donovan of how ‘C’ had ‘staved off
another attempt by our friend Uncle George [Strong] to insinuate his people
further into CE work’ (see Chapter 3, p. 77).19
It soon became apparent to OSS/London’s CI staff that because of concerns
about ISOS/ISK security, MI6(V) was not yet prepared to transmit MSS material
to Washington, while the OSS/London CI staff would require direct tutelage on
how to handle the material. Combined with Broadway’s fears that SI/London
might expose MSS sources through an insufficient appreciation for their
sensitivity, these considerations led to the creation of a separate independent CI
branch in London numbering 25 members effective 15 June 1943.20 Designated
X-2, either in deference to DOUBLE CROSS or Section V’s alternative label of
X-B, it was also decided to locate its operational headquarters in London rather
than Washington.21 X-2’s transfer from Glenalmond was accomplished on 18
July, coinciding with MI6(V)’s own move to 14 Ryder Street, London. During
January–February 1944, X-2 took over the adjacent building with a passage
between them. Besides sharing its location with MI6(V), X-2 moreover adopted
Section V’s exact geographical desk structure for efficient coordination (i.e.,
both units used the desk system whereby each desk was tasked with carding,
collating and interpreting all CI material concerning a specific geographical
area).22
X-2 was now clearly tied to MI6(V) owing to Broadway’s extensive liaison
with OSS/London, its exclusive control of ISOS/ISK, and its control over sharing
MSS. Whatever MI5’s leading role in DOUBLE CROSS, Section V linked
outsiders with that operation’s product, including arranging Norman Pearson’s
liaison with the Twenty Committee.23 MI6(V) had a combination of motives for
such largess. Foremost was the fact that it was in Britain’s interest to ensure the
security of OSS intelligence operations, particularly if any SI-SIS partnership was
expected to develop. Counter-intelligence was necessary to nullify Abwehr
operations while revealing information that could facilitate Allied espionage. It
was also common sense that a US link be established for CI’s deception element
since the entire deception scheme could be undermined without American
awareness of its existence and goals, although it must be stressed that deception
control was exercised by MI5 and MI6(V) in the Twenty Committee without
X-2’s direct involvement in decision-making. MI6(V) in fact recognized that in
CI, the Americans could contribute ‘only to the degree they had full access to
British expertise and information; [a]nd the overriding British policy was to try
to augment their own effectiveness with US personnel and equipment resources’
(as noted above, MI6(V) had only 60 personnel in London by 1944).24 Closer to
174 AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON
home, Section V’s head, Major Felix Cowgill (pre-sumably sanctioned by ‘C’),
wished ‘to minimize the London liaison between MI5 and the FBI. Cowgill
sought to achieve this end by giving X-2 free access to Section V’s files,
including MSS material’. By so ‘bolstering’ X-2, ‘Cowgill hoped to minimize
encroachments by MI5 and the FBI. X-2 thus greatly benefited from Cowgill’s
maneuver.’25
So while SIS admittedly took an ‘overwhelming’ security risk by revealing its
CI life-blood and the accompanying insights into ULTRA, it did so for a mixture
of motives. The fragmentation inherent in Britain’s clandestine services again
contributed to the close relationship enjoyed between an OSS/London branch
and a single designated British counter-part. SIS pragmatically fostered links
with OSS/London, partly out of operational necessity, partly to secure its own
position relative to its domestic rivals. Had it not done so, an independent OSS CI
effort would have been as wishful as independent SO/SI work before
OVERLORD.26
With Section V controlling intercept material about enemy espionage
personnel and activities on OSS/London’s behalf, a mutually beneficial
partnership was free to develop.27 X-2 was accordingly given the task of with
vetting and approving all X-2 agents, clearing and directing all X-2 operational
projects, and receiving and processing all field reports with reference to British
reports. X-2 very frankly sought Section V’s direction in these endeavours. The
Italian desk’s James Angleton was especially explicit and ‘completely frank in
expressing his desire to learn from British example’, and naturally enough
Section V’s Italian desk ‘was very responsive’ to Angleton, and ‘cooperated in
every possible way’.28 Branch chief James Murphy also suggested to SI that X-2
adopt Section V’s method of controlling sub-agents and informers: as soon as
any SIS officer engaged a sub-agent or sub-source, he immediately forwarded a
complete statement to headquarters. This information was then checked through
MI6(V), or sometimes with MI5. Employment of enemy agents, sources,
suspects and non-sympathizers was thus avoided. Once Home Office approval
was secured, sub-sources would be assigned and a proper evaluation given to any
reports. The British also maintained a ‘report card’ on each agent, sub-agent, or
source detailing report dates, their distribution, and their evaluation. SIS found this
system secure, believing that it provided central control and excellent protection
for the organization. It generally protected SIS from external penetration,
although it did not stop penetration originating within MI6(V) given Kim
Philby’s success on Russia’s behalf.29 When SI finally launched SUSSEX, these
procedures were formalized within OSS/London on 1 May 1944.30
X-2 also learned about Germany’s continental intelligence channels. In
planning its post-invasion intelligence network, OSS/London wanted to exploit
these channels once they came into Allied hands. The most promising ones
involved banking, insurance, and industry. X-2 had an insurance unit investigate
Germany’s development and usage of an espionage network based on insurance
organizations under the control of German reinsurance firms. X-2 and Section V
X-2 AND MORALE OPERATIONS 175
also compiled personality data on Europeans who were ‘bad actors’, although
there were ‘occasions where one of these files pronounced an individual
“violently anti-Nazi” and the other declared the same person to be a German
spy’.31
The major application of X-2 resources, however, involved planning and
preparation for CI support of the field armies after the Normandy invasion. The
concept of security and counter-intelligence detachments (‘Ib units’) was first
developed for the 1942 TORCH landings in North Africa. The Special
Intelligence (b) Units were to communicate ISOS material to the Ib (i.e., security)
staffs of Allied Forces Headquarters and the British 1st Army. Since they
operated overseas, they were Section V’s responsibility, with no MI5
participation. As events unfolded, neither Tunisian or Sicilian operations gave
much scope for these units to test their effectiveness since there were no German
‘stay-behind’ networks. When the American COSSAC contingent proved
unfamiliar with this work, MI5 insinuated itself into the formulation of a
February 1944 SHAEF directive on CI. This directive specified the duties of the
redesignated Special Counter-intelligence Units (SCIUs, or SCI Units) as
performing CI work against German intelligence networks or personnel
encountered in the field during OVERLORD.32
X-2 was particularly keen to seize this opportunity ‘to bring American CE
service in combat zones up to par with that of both [its] allies and enemy’, and in
fact submitted its own SCIU plan to SHAEF in November 1943.33 OSS/London
envisaged SCIU duties as involving interrogating resistance leaders and
JEDBURGH members for information relevant to CI; for vetting alleged
resistance leaders as they were picked up by the armies; for vetting all OSS
agents going into the field (Section V did precisely this for Broadway’s
BRISSEX agents); and for checking the names of agents picked up against their
CI field files or ‘by W/T against SHAEF files in London’.34 X-2 SCIUs were
thus attached to the headquarters of the 1st and 3rd US Armies.
X-2/MI6(V) relations ‘were as usual highly satisfactory’ in the SCIU realm
through the attachment of X-2 officers to the British-Canadian 21st Army Group
for liaison, while SHAEF’s own SCIU (tasked with helping implement cover and
deception plans, and with coordinating such activities at the Army Group level
through the SCIUs attached to those AGs) consisted of 15 officers and 20 other
ranks drawn from MI6 and OSS/London.35 Section V and X-2 facilitated these
units’ activities by agreeing to ‘pass information [especially that based on MSS]
relating to hostile secret intelligence services direct to SCI Units attached to the
Army Groups in the field through their own special communications’ (it was
strict policy that ‘Special Source material [could] never travel in clear text
outside the UK. It [was] for this reason that London…never produced summaries
of [such material] for the field.’ Camouflaged MSS information could be
transmitted, but the ‘Abwehr Index’ itself—the compendium of information on
the German espionage system—could not be summarized since ‘practically all
the material included in [it was] …based on Special Sources…[and] distribution
176 AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON
Having said that, the War Room system’s relative effectiveness increasingly
reflected the ubiquitous problem of British fragmentation:
It was thus clear by the end of 1944 that strong as X-2’s loyalties were to MI6
(V), X-2 would ‘doubtless find an adjustment to new relations between
something like a joint MI5-MI6 [cooperative]—in the German War Room—not
only possible but advantageous’. This was particularly attractive since MI5’s war
record was ‘brilliant’, since some X-2 men had trained under MI5, and because
MI5 had thus ‘liked [X-2’s] people’, although this may have owed more to
Section V’s eroding influence over X-2 than to the ‘great generosity and honesty
of dealing’ attributed to them by the OSS men.48
This all points to some intriguing issues concerning the evolution of the CI
War Room concept, but the British Official History merely notes that by June
1944, ‘a joint SIS/OSS War Room’ had been established ‘to service the SCIUs’
with MI5 and French security representation, and that ‘[i]n light of experience in
the summer and autumn of 1944, changes in arrangements for providing expert
back-up for the counter-intelligence organisation in the field were discussed in
November’ with specific reference to the need for more staff, and the fact that
the SCIUs had spent more time distributing ISOS than running double-agents.49
More detail can be gleaned from the OSS records, though. OSS/London
indicated to OSS/Washington in September that X-2/London and MI6(V) were
‘engaging in a cooperative German desk operating under an arrangement similar
to that established for operations concerning France and the Lowlands’.50 The
French War Room in a sense served ‘as a laboratory for those planning the German
War Room’.51 SHAEF, however, soon expressed its wish to supersede the
French/Lowlands and German War Rooms with a CI War Room ‘enlarged in
scope and supported by the special registry and staff of MI5’s B Division…
entirely under SHAEF’s control’, and including French security representatives.
This new entity could then circulate its intelligence directly to the CI field staffs
rather than through the SCIUs.
X-2 AND MORALE OPERATIONS 179
The Official History notes that when ‘C’ opposed SHAEF taking over control
of the War Room from the CI services for reasons of ISOS security, ‘on this point
SHAEF had its way’.52 The matter is worth detailing since it again underscores
SHAEF’s primacy in Allied intelligence planning. The issue was discussed in a
letter from the SHAEF G-2, Major-General K.W.D.Strong, to Stewart Menzies.
After noting ‘C’s’ choice of War Room Director, MI5’s Lieutenant-Colonel T.A.
Robertson, Strong went on to address
those outstanding points where you say decisions have still been reserved.
The first of these is the question of control. I still feel that my original
proposition that [SHAEF] should be given the direction of an organization
which, whatever else it may be, is primarily of interest to the Armies in the
field, is the right one. I gather from your letter and from what [Colonel
Dick] White has told me of conversations he has had with you that, despite
a feeling on your side that this may not be the most convenient way to
settle the matter, you are prepared to agree if we here feel sufficiently
strongly on the point. To this I feel I must answer that we do feel that the
point is an important one and as you have left the matter in my hands, I
propose with [Director General of MI5] Sir David Petrie’s agreement to
take over Lt. Col. Robertson on to [SHAEF] strength and to charge him
with the direction of the War Room. I shall also take up with OSS the
question of Mr [Robert] Blum’s position as Deputy Director, which I think
should also belong to [SHAEF], thus giving expression to the concept of
full Anglo-American integration which, as you know, is the basis of this
Headquarters… I note from Mr James Murphy’s letter…that nothing I
have said above is at variance with the point of view taken by OSS…
I should like to give you one final word of assurance that, in maintaining
my proposition that the Director of the War Room should be responsible to
[SHAEF], I naturally make no claim to invade any prerogatives of the
heads of the Special Agencies over their own personnel, sources of
intelligence or special intelligence facilities. I feel sure the smooth running
of the organization can be achieved if the procedure outlined in para 2 of Mr
Murphy’s letter is adhered to, for I have no doubt from White’s account of
his meetings in London that the requisite good will exists on all sides.
I should be grateful if you could show this letter to Mr James Murphy
and Sir David Petrie.53
preparing questionnaires, and addressing field requests about cases (later termed
the Assessment Section’, or Section C, under MI5’s Roland Bird, with X-2’s Joe
Roland as Deputy). This section would also handle double- agent matters, with
Robertson insisting ‘that he, or someone designated by him and [X-2’s Robert]
Blum, should definitely know [the] identities and details of all Double Agents…
for the protection of [the] Double Agent and Col. Robertson himself. A
Documents Section would immediately process captured records, and make
précis of them before routing them to their proper destinations (Section E under
X-2’s Sam Bossard), while a Research Section (later ‘Publications’, or Section G)
would prepare studies on GIS and other topics. Colonel Robertson warned that
with respect to a head for this section, ‘“C” would offer him Hugh Trevor-Roper…
who is not “easy to get along with”’; X-2’s Reginald Phelps was proposed as
Trevor-Roper’s luckless assistant. A Registry Section (Section F under a certain
Horrocks of MI5) was patterned after the existing MI5, MI6, and X-2 Registries;
this section would also maintain a SHAEF personality card sub-section on
suspected Nazis. An obviously critical component of the War Room was Section
D (under MI6[V]’s Colin Roberts, with X-2’s Grace Dolowitz) responsible for
handling Abwehr and SD signal traffic for the field, codenamed PAIR in this
instance.54 Robertson and MI6(V)’s new head, Lieutenant-Colonel Milne, met
with a G-2 SIGINT representative in January 1945 to satisfy G-2 that no further
ULTRA representative would be required in the War Room. It was agreed,
however, to introduce a new method of CI ULTRA dissemination to the field.
Throughout the war, a Section V representative at GCHQ had scanned
operational ULTRA signals for items of CI relevance, known as DEGS. One
member from each Section V geographic desk received these, after which ‘they
were filed in a special card file (not available to the OSS personnel working in the
building)…. No one from Section V was permitted to take any action on these
DEGS without previously referring it to… Menzies’. By January 1945, this was
deemed inadequate for continental CI, so Robertson and Major Mason, head of
Section V’s German Desk, proposed creating a special ULTRA room next to the
German Desk at Ryder Street, which finally became operational ‘about 1 April’.
After the daily GCHQ intake was received, Colin Roberts of the SHAEF CI War
Room’s PAIR section examined the material that had been ‘DEGGED’, and
decided what material should be communicated to the field as PAIR messages.
Trevor-Roper of the Research Section also examined this material for his GIS
reports.55
Throughout these developments, X-2 felt that ‘Section V appeared
cooperative’, and the physical presence of a PAIR section in the War Room was
‘considered a signal victory’.56 The War Room accordingly began operating on
28 February with 175 officers and civilians.57 Though providing only 20
personnel, X-2 had secured the Deputy Directorship, and it was also noted during
the planning stage ‘that MI5 seemed to be getting their people into the key slots’;
but when the issue of providing qualified personnel for these positions came up,
‘it was agreed that Section V was not prepared to release them’ for service in the
X-2 AND MORALE OPERATIONS 181
War Room.58 MI6(V) was thus being eclipsed, in keeping with the expectations
expressed above based on the French War Room. This coincided with the April
revelation through IS OS that GIS was abandoning any serious attempt at
establishing a stay-behind network in western Germany.59 The special ULTRA
room used for PAIR also existed ‘little more than a month before the operational
Ultra began to dry up’, although it was deemed a superior system for screening
GCHQ material for CI information.60 As Germany’s collapse continued, the War
Room became involved in using MI5 and MI6(V) files for processing known
GIS personnel from those captured or automatically arrested.61 By the end of
April, X-2 emphasized the need for OSS SCIUs to expedite transferring
prisoners to London for interrogation by SHAEF’s CI War Room, for OSS/
London to provide aircraft for that task, and for transporting relevant captured
enemy documents.62 Such efforts would ensure that X-2 fully met its War Room
and SCI commitments. These commitments were soon matters of concern given
that the first month after the collapse of GIS ‘produced, on the one hand, a vastly
accelerated program of activity in the War Room, and on the other, a period of
confusion and redirection in the field’. In fact, ‘the extent of the collapse [was]…
almost more than the relatively small CI staffs [could] cope with’ (the 12th AG
OSS Detachment contributed to this work-load by sending ‘two German doctors
to Paris for interrogation… They claimed to be death ray experts’).63
In light of this range of activity, it is evident that X-2/London enjoyed a strong
presence in Allied CI, from ISOS indoctrination, to the SCIUs, to the War
Rooms, and that this success was largely due to the branch’s utility with respect
to British CI plans. The British need to maintain a specialized ISOS connection
with the Americans was the fundamental raison d’ être for X-2, and its initial
close relationship with Section V further emphasized that fact within the context
of MI5-MI6 counter-intelligence fragmentation. This reality also enabled OSS/
London to withstand the attempt by US military intelligence to obtain the CI role,
and this in turn gave X-2 obvious scope in both the SCIUs and the War Room
concept. The X-2/London War Diary explicitly states that X-2’s role in SHAEF
planning, and its position as the official US CI agency in Europe, ‘could not have
been achieved without the resources and backing of MI6’.64 In the final months
of war, X-2 was able to profit from its ISOS link, and to secure the Deputy
Directorship of the SHAEF War Room despite Section V’s waning, and MI5’s
influx into SHAEF CI. While such developments testified to X-2’s competence
and usefulness, it also reflected the significance of Anglo-American functional
integration to the relative cohesion of OSS. The ISOS/ISK connection was X-2/
London’s birthright, but it required the branch to work hand-inglove with its
British opposites at the expense of close ties with the other OSS branches. The
sensitivity of this crucial source could not permit any other alternative. X-2 was
therefore inevitably more a part of an essentially British-dominated Allied CI
system than it was a part of any independent American intelligence system, and
many within OSS/London resented this fact. One OSS/London reports officer
felt that during his tenure with the mission, ‘the operations of X-2 remained a
182 AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON
X-2 generated the suspicion that the smoke-screen of security under which
its plans, operations, communications and personnel were protected from
the rest of the organization hid many potentialities for working
constructively with the other branches. As long as X-2 [was] allowed to be
the exception to so many rules, it [was]…dif ficult to persuade the other
branches to shed their own sovereignty in favour of better teamwork.67
SIS, service intelligence, and public sources to formulate and distribute overt
(‘White’) and clandestine (‘Black’) propaganda. PWE also prepared under the
JIC’s general direction political and social studies for the secret and military
services. ‘Whereas the Ministry of Information [aimed] to tell the truth, PWE
[was] frankly an agency of propaganda’, be it White, and thus clearly of Allied
origin, or Black, purporting to originate within enemy territory. PWE chiefly
used open radio, Black radio (passed off as transmitting in occupied France, for
example), air-dropped leaflets, leaflets brought behind enemy lines, and false
rumours deliberately planted. Agents trained by SOE were used for propaganda
dissemination.68
William Donovan was long a keen enthusiast of psychological warfare,
believing in the efficacy of ‘fifth column’ techniques for defeating Germany.69
PWE activities were thus investigated by COI’s London nucleus in 1941. A 12
November 1941 report by E.L.Taylor waxed optimistic about the possibilities for
COI joining with the British in political warfare, especially through providing
intelligence on foreign radio broadcasting, morale, and political psychology (this
was because PWE placed great emphasis on acquiring all intelligence necessary
for operations).70 As noted in Chapter 4, R&A made overtures to
PWE concerning information exchanges, but refrained from actual propaganda
work. This potential linkage was nullified, however, when COI was split into
OSS and OWI in June 1942. The latter organization was made responsible for
White propaganda, while OSS kept authority for Black work. PWE was then
faced with deciding with which unit it should establish its main working
relationship since the British service did both White and Black; it eventually
decided on OWI as its main link with US propaganda in July 1942 (see
Chapter 4, p. 106).71 PWE soon followed this up by wrestling total control of
propaganda directed at enemy-occupied countries from SOE, although the latter
maintained a joint school with PWE for training propaganda agents.72
R&A sought to re-establish ties with PWE in February 1943 by coordinating
their work on Military Government Handbooks, political reporting, and
psychological warfare information. It soon became evident to OSS, however,
that a distinct branch of OSS/London would have to be formed for propaganda
liaison with PWE and SOE.73 Morale Operations/London was thus established in
June 1943, with Rae Smith appointed branch head and initial lone member.
David Bruce could not help noticing that ‘a one man branch [was] not a source
of prestige’ for OSS/London, but reinforcements arrived in due course.74 For its
part, PWE was reluctant to enter into any direct partnership for fear that their
position would be weakened if MO produced more personnel to challenge
PWE’s propaganda operations. MO was still able to secure PWE’s agreement in
July 1943 for MO work on ‘rumours’ planning since PWE hoped to compensate
for its lack of manpower through the arrival of more MO staff. MO was for its
part trying to secure representation on any joint effort while foregoing
independent operations in preparation for future eventualities.75
184 AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON
that he was ‘rather doubtful as to whether it had shortened the (recent) war by
one hour’.83
MO’s largely non-existent contribution to the war thus reflected the poor
results of political warfare. Like political warfare in general, MO’s reports were
‘always concerned with what was going to happen and not always had much
bearing on what had been [actually] accomplished’.84 The British particularly
held too much faith in propaganda, especially in its efficacy against Nazi
Germany.85 It was moreover inconsistent with the overriding primacy of
‘unconditional surrender’.86 Potential German rebels were concerned with
Germany’s post-war survival as a nation, whereas unconditional surrender
implied the overthrow of ‘Nazis and militarists’; unfortunately, only the militarists
could overthrow the Nazis inside Germany.87 This was not likely to happen when
the attitude of German soldiers in Normandy was one of ‘Let’s enjoy the war
because the peace will be terrible.’88 Germany’s two-front war in fact gave Nazi
leaders a simple slogan for the military: Sieg oder Siberia, Victory or Siberia.
Leaflets and radio broadcasts were not going to counter this stark set of options.
All political warfare could reasonably accomplish was to harp on a simple set of
coherent themes along the lines that Germany was outnumbered and outgunned,
its defeat was inevitable, and the best thing for Germany was to end the war as
soon as possible, preferably by removing the Nazis. Despite the reliance on
Black work in Allied political warfare strategy, this was essentially a task for
White propaganda.
MO/London’s inherent shortcomings exacerbated these obstacles. MO was
undeniably frustrated by the fact that it ‘was held back literally for months
through the inability of PWD and various other military agencies to determine
exactly what it was to be permitted to do’, but a major problem concerned how
its leadership followed British methods and experience.89 Rae Smith was deemed
by one MO/London member as unaggressive and too deferential to British
precedent in political warfare, with MO accordingly ‘playing second and third
fiddle to the British’; it was even allegedly said in response to proposals within
MO: ‘We have done it this way for four years, why should we change now?’90
Equally significant were the observations of Walter Lord:
MO/London thus attempted to parrot British methods and policies which were
themselves doomed to failure, and MO was thereby prevented from making a
distinct contribution to the rest of OSS/London. As indicated elsewhere, this went
with the territory. The British intelligence system’s entrenched fragmentation
nullified OSS’s potential for centralization, and individual branches were
essentially left to make their own way within this defining context. When
attempted by X-2, it could result in success; when tried by MO, it largely came to
naught. Joint work with the British either created a strong potential for continued
branch work by war’s end, or else it underscored the futility of carrying on. In
either case, the relative significance of the clandestine activity in question was
the determining factor.
This reality would prove significant in OSS/London’s post-hostilities work.
Independent OSS intelligence and CI operations in Germany seemed to be the
pending focal point of American intelligence in Europe, but events well outside
that theatre soon made their presence felt for OSS/London and its successor.
NOTES
1. Jackson report on the ‘British Intelligence System’, Donovan Papers, USAMHI, pp.
41, 43, 47–8; see also Hinsley and Simkins, IV, pp. 8–10, 29–64, 68–70, 178; note
that the functions of E and F divisions originally resided within B division at war’s
outbreak, but were then removed and assigned to the two new divisions in April
1941; the British tended to use the term counter-espionage to mean all CI duties,
but the distinction above is used here—on this difference between CI and CE see
Winks, Cloak, p. 422.
2. Quotes from Jackson, ‘British Intelligence System’, pp. 30–2; see also Hinsley and
Simkins, IV, pp. 8–10, 180 (for staff numbers); see Chapter 4 above on SIS
Circulating Sections.
3. Narrative from J.C.Masterman, The Double Cross System in the War of 1939 to
1945 (London: Sphere, 1973), pp. 3, 36–42, 49–58; see Hinsley and Simkins, IV,
pp. 87–130, 217–44, and Appendices 1, 3, 6, 9, 11; on German intelligence, see
also David Kahn, Hitler’s Spies: German Military Intelligence in World War II
(New York: Macmillan, 1978), pp. 236, 525–8, 534–6; on deception, Masterman,
Double Cross, pp. 104–11, 130–1, 145–63; Michael Howard, British Intelligence in
the Second World War, Vol. V: Strategic Deception (London: HMSO, 1990), pp. 3–
30, 45–52, 103–33, 167–200; Jock Haswell, The Tangled Web: The Art of Tactical
and Strategic Deception (Wendover: John Goodchild, 1985); Ralph Bennett,
‘Fortitude, Ultra and the “Need to Know”’, Intelligence and National Security 4, 3
(July 1989), pp. 482–502, and Ralph Bennett, ‘A Footnote to Fortitude’,
Intelligence and National Security 6, 1 (January 1991), pp. 240–1; cf. Charles
Cruickshank, Deception in World War II (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1981);
David Mure, Master of Deception: Tangled Webs in London and the Middle East
X-2 AND MORALE OPERATIONS 187
(London: Kimber, 1980), pp. 16, 198, 273; T.L.Cubbage II, ‘The German
Misapprehensions Regarding Overlord: Understanding Failure in the Estimative
Process’, Intelligence and National Security 2, 3 (July 1987), pp. 114–74; Klaus-
Jürgen Müller, ‘A German Perspective on Allied Deception Operations in the
Second World War’, Intelligence and National Security 2, 3 (July 1987), pp. 301–
26; David Hunt, ‘Remarks on “A German Perspective on Allied Deception
Operations’”, Intelligence and National Security 3, 1 (January 1988), pp. 190–4;
Michael I.Handel, ‘Methodological Mischief: A Reply to Professor Müller’,
Intelligence and National Security 4, 1 (January 1989), pp. 161–4; John Ferris,
‘The Intelligence-Deception Complex: An Anatomy’, Intelligence and National
Security 4, 4 (October 1989), pp. 719–34; see also Winks, Cloak, pp. 289–97, on the
publication of Masterman’s book.
4. Masterman, Double Cross, pp. 60–6; Hinsley and Simkins, IV, pp. 98–102, 217–44.
5. MI5’s position is disputed by Robert Cecil, ‘Five of Six at War: Section V of MI6’,
Intelligence and National Security 9, 2 (April 1994), p. 347.
6. Hinsley and Simkins, IV, pp. 72–3 (on RSS), 113–14, 124–37 (on MI5-MI6
conflicts)—cf. with Masterman, Double Cross, pp. 60–6, who says there were no
unresolved disputes concerning MI5 primacy over MI6(V) on the Twenty
Committee; note also that Masterman was the MI5 Chairman of the Twenty
Committee (Hinsley and Simkins, p. 98).
7. Masterman, Double Cross, pp. 65–6; 189; cf, Cecil, ‘Five’, p. 347.
8. ‘British Intelligence System’, pp. 32, 48–9; see also Hinsley and Simkins, IV, pp.
175–8.
9. See Cecil, ‘Five’, pp. 346–7; Cecil states (p. 347) that amalgamating MI5 and MI6
‘in the middle of the war would have been the height of folly’.
10. Hinsley and Simkins, IV, p. 187.
11. August 1942 date, ‘Memorandum—Re X-2 Beginning’, n.d, n.a., Folder 14a, Box
74, Entry 92, RG 226, NARA; BSC proposal from manuscript excerpt, ‘London
Station History, Chapter I, The OSS Prelude’, written by William L.Billick, in
Folder 19, Box 2, Troy Papers, RG 263, NARA.
12. Intercepts, Minutes of discussion in David Bruce’s office, 24 March 1942, Folder
1647, Box 152, Entry 136, RG 226, NARA; Most Secret Sources, Billick MS,
‘OSS Prelude’.
13. Jackson, ‘British Intelligence System’, p. 31.
14. Billick MS, ‘OSS Prelude’.
15. Bruce to Donovan, 13 February 1943, frame 78, Reel 39, Entry 95, RG 226, NARA.
16. Billick MS, ‘OSS Prelude’; see also Cecil, ‘Five’, pp. 350–1.
17. Accommodation, Bruce to Donovan, 27 February 1943, frames 86–7;
complication, ‘C’s’ view, and MI6(V) vs. temporary staff, Bruce to Donovan, 8
March 1943, frames 92–3; both in Reel 39, Entry 95, RG 226, NARA; cf. John
Costello, Mask of Treachery (New York: William Morrow and Company, 1988),
pp. 422, 431.
18. April 1943 arrival, Billick MS, ‘OSS Prelude’; resolved status of OSS CI, Bruce to
Donovan, 12 March 1943, frames 95–6, Reel 39, Entry 95, RG 226, NARA; on
Murphy, Bowden, McDonough, Pearson, Blum, Will, G-2 hostility, see also Winks,
Cloak, pp. 260–3.
19. G-2 liaison, Bruce to Donovan, 12 March 1943, frames 95–6; ‘staved’, Bruce to
Donovan, 14 August 1943, frame 173; both in Reel 39, Entry 95, RG 226, NARA.
188 AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON
20. Billick MS, ‘OSS Prelude’; X-2 establishment in General Order Number 13,
Revised, 19 June 1943, effective 15 June 1943, Folder 109, Box 15, Entry 119, RG
226, NARA; 25 members, Winks, Cloak, p. 264.
21. Billick MS, ‘OSS Prelude’; X-2 designation, Winks, Cloak, p. 263.
22. Billick MS, ‘OSS Prelude’; see also ‘War Diary, OSS/London, X-2 Branch, Vol. 1,
Early History’, Chronological Summary, and pp. iv–v, frames 1149, 1154–5, Reel
10, Entry 91, RG 226, NARA—note that pp. vi–xliv and the remainder of Vol. 1
are closed, although certain details were inadvertently left by the weeders in the
Chronological Summary and Index.
23. Winks, Cloak, pp. 280–5.
24. Billick MS, ‘OSS Prelude’; the ‘War Diary, OSS/London, X-2 Branch, Vol. 2,
London Headquarters’, Reel 10, Entry 91, p. 20, notes that in pre-OVERLORD CI
information processing, ‘the British obviously were able to furnish most of the
information required. The thing that X-2 could furnish was the man and woman-
power to do the necessary carding and filing’; see also Memorandum for Director
OSS on Survey of Manpower Utilization—X-2 Branch, 31 March 1944, frames
0002–11, Reel 72, Entry 190; both in RG 226, NARA.
25. Billick MS ‘OSS Prelude’; see also ‘War Diary, X-2, 2’, Chronological Summary,
and pp. 1–7, 20, 26, frames 1161–8, 1181, 1187—British motives are apparently
discussed on p. viii of Vol. 1, but this is closed; see also British views on the need
to ensure ‘central coordination’ of OSS CI through ‘SIS in London where OSS are
represented’, in Air Ministry to Britman, Washington, COS (W) 852, 3 October
1943, Reference: JSM 1200, CAB 119/47, PRO; Winks, Cloak, pp. 287–9, notes
Pearson’s closeness with Cowgill, Cowgill’s denial of ISOS to the FBI, and
dismisses as ‘nonsense’ the idea that Cowgill stymied the FBI in order to minimize
MI5 encroachments against himself personally, this dismissal is fair and
understandable since Winks is referring to the claims of the traitor Kim Philby in this
regard, but the quotes cited above from Billick MS, ‘OSS Prelude’, originate within
OSS, not from Kim Philby, and they concern MI6 vs. MI5 as part of their ongoing
rivalry, not Cowgill vs. MI5 out of personal self-interest; see also Winks, Cloak, p.
534, note 81, and Cecil, ‘Five’, pp. 351–2; cf. Desmond Bristow, with Bill
Bristow, A Game of Moles: The Deceptions of an MI6 Officer (London: Little,
Brown and Company, 1993), pp. 33–4.
26. ‘Overwhelming’, Roosevelt, II, p. 150; see also Winks, Cloak, p. 534, note 81, on
the role of British self-interest.
27. For British control on X-2’s behalf, see Jackson ‘British Intelligence System’, p.
31.
28. X-2 duties/Angleton, ‘War Diary, X-2, 2’, pp. 4, 37, frames 1165, 1197—note that
the Angleton reference is bracketed with the word ‘cut’ handwritten beside it;
Angleton was the future CIA’s noted CI guru before his enforced retirement in
1974; see Winks, Cloak, pp. 372–435.
29. Murphy to Shepardson, 10 July 1943, Folder 24, Box 347, Entry 92, RG 226, NARA
—see also ‘War Diary, X-2, 2’, pp. 10–11, frames 1171–2; see also Costello,
Mask, p. 427.
30. Branch Order No. 10 by Acting Chief Hubert L.Will, 1 May 1944, Folder 50, Box
3, Entry 147, RG 226, NARA.
31. William Casey to Giblin and Armour, 29 January 1944; see also Minutes of the
Staff Operational committee, 27 January 1944; both in Folder 357, Box 315, Entry
X-2 AND MORALE OPERATIONS 189
64. ‘War Diary, X-2, 2’, p. 17, frame 1178—on relations with other branches, cf. pp.
107–8, frames 1256–7.
65. Howard S.Cady Field Report, 22 May 1945, Folder 46a#2, Box 11, Entry 99; on
X-2/R&A and X-2/SI information exchanges, see draft agreements from February–
March 1945, frames 760–90, Reel 57, Entry 95; both in RG 226, NARA.
66. Lord Field Report, Folder 46b#l, Box 11, Entry 99, RG 226, NARA; on SO and
countersabotage, see Chapter 8.
67. Osgood Nichols Field Report, 4 June 1945, Folder 46b#2; Box 11, Entry 99,
RG 226, NARA.
68. Narrative and quotes from ‘British Intelligence System’, pp. 55–9; see also
B.F.Smith, Shadow, p. 81; Gladwyn, Memoirs, pp. 101–2; Hugh Dalton, The
Fateful Years: Memoirs, 1931–1945 (London: Frederick Muller, 1957), p. 377; see
also Edmond Taylor, Awakening from History (Boston: Gambit, 1969).
69. Lawrence C.Soley, Radio Warfare: OSS and CIA Subversive Propaganda (New
York: Praeger, 1989), p. 12; see also the influential Edmond Taylor, The Strategy of
Terror: Europe’s Inner Front (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1940).
70. E.L.Taylor to W.D.Whitney, 12 November 1941, Folder 8, Box 70, Entry 99, RG
226, NARA; PWE intelligence emphasis from M.G.Balfour to GSO London, 27
November 1942, FO 898/17, PRO.
71. See Allan M.Winkler, The Politics of Propaganda: The Office of War Information,
1942–1945 (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1978), pp. 26–7, 31, and Young
(ed.), Diaries of Robert Bruce Lockhart, 27 August 1942, p. 191.
72. B.F.Smith, Shadow, pp. 157–8; ‘SSO War Diary: Relations with the British’, paras
99–102, Folder 38, Box 3, Entry 147, RG 226, NARA.
73. Shepard Morgan to Lockhart, 5 February 1943, Folder ‘PWD and PWE’, Box 4,
Entry 75, RG 226, NARA.
74. Bruce to Buxton, 18 September 1943, Reel 39, Entry 95, RG 226, NARA.
75. ‘SSO: Relations’, paras 102–5; draft ‘War Diary, Directors Office, Preamble to 1
January 1944’, pp. 12, 14, Folder 248, Box 220, Entry 190; ‘War Diary, OSS/
London, MO Branch, Vol. 1, Administration’, p. 1, frame 318, Reel 2, Entry 91; both
in RG 226, NARA; Fred Oechsner to Donovan, 12 June 1943, Folder 97, Box 12,
Troy Papers, RG 263, NARA; see also R.H.Bruce Lockhart, Comes the Reckoning
(London: Putnam, 1947), pp. 181–2; see Young (ed.), Diaries of Robert Bruce
Lockhart, 31 May 1943, pp. 238–9.
76. Bruce to J.M.Scribner, 17 December 1943, Folder 39, Box 24, Entry 92, RG 226,
NARA.
77. Draft War Diary, Director’s Office, OSS/London, Preamble to January 1944, Part
II, pp. 20–1, Folder 39, Box 3, Entry 147; draft War Diary, Director’s Office, OSS/
London, Vol. 1, January–March 1944’, paras 50–3, 73, Folder 144, Box 211, Entry
190; both in RG 226, NARA; see also ‘War Diary, MO, 1’, pp. 2–14; see also
Winkler, Politics, pp. 122–6, and Lockhart, Reckoning, p. 196.
78. On SO-MO, see Rae Smith and David Winston to Bruce, 23 February 1944, Paul Van
Der Stricht to Joseph Haskell, 25 March 1944, and Lester Armour to Donovan, 26
May 1944, all in Folder 190, Box 343, Entry 190; on gossip reporting, see Rae
Smith to Williamson, 17 June 1944, quoted in the ETO Officers Pouch of 27 June
1944, Folder 38, Box 9, Entry 99; all in RG 226, NARA; see also Winkler,
Politics, pp. 122–6, and Lockhart, Reckoning, p. 196.
192 AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON
War’s end did not immediately bring about any great innovations in British and
American intelligence. Britain’s intelligence system remained largely
decentralized, and William Donovan’s attempt to perpetuate his organization as a
strongly centralized American post-war intelligence service came to nought.
Ironically, OSS faded from the scene just as Russia began emerging as a real
threat to the post-war world. American intelligence bodies largely failed to
anticipate this development in keeping with the assumptions of America’s
preferred post-war foreign policy, while OSS was itself primarily geared toward
‘denazifying’ occupied Germany. Thanks to information obtained from British
intelligence, however, the London mission finally began appreciating matters
just before OSS was disbanded. A successor organization was then left to
manage an evolving intelligence situation that its political superiors only dimly
recognized, and that it was hardly equipped to deal with alone. The ongoing
relationship with British intelligence thus acquired great significance throughout
early 1946. British policy-makers were only too aware of Russian hostility
toward traditional British interests, and of Britain’s inability to confront this
threat alone. They naturally considered it imperative to inform American leaders
about this situation, and the Anglo-American intelligence relationship proved
critical to achieving this end. This link not only contributed in due course to
America’s reassessment of Soviet intentions, but it also indirectly helped prove
the continued relevance of a fully mobilized American peacetime intelligence
capability, thereby succeeding where Donovan himself failed. The Anglo-
American intelligence connection in the face of a mutual threat thus recalls the
context of OSS/London’s genesis. It also illustrates the consistent importance of
Britain’s pragmatic self-interest, and down-plays the significance usually
ascribed to Donovan personally. The Anglo-American intelligence relationship
accordingly entered the Cold War as it did the Second World War—grounded in
necessity, not in sentiment or superficial personality. By mid-1946, the
intelligence dimension of Anglo-American affairs had indeed turned full circle.
As detailed in Chapter 1, Broadway’s absorption of SOE was sanctioned in
August 1945 as a means of reconciling the ad hoc sabotage arm with the
permanent Secret Service.1 The JIC also proposed on 1 June 1945 establishing a
Joint Intelligence Bureau under its control for centralizing existing and future
194 THE TRANSITION TO COLD WAR
that [OSS] scattered] too much, that [it had] many talents, some results’).13
Magruder’s suggestions made Donovan livid, and were interpreted as an attempt
to usurp Donovan’s authority. Donovan dismissed Magruder’s logical
innovations as objectionable ‘hierarchy’ and ‘bureaucracy’, and repeated his
preference for the ‘chain of command as …from [each] Branch Head to the
Director’.14 In other words, Donovan wanted nominal control of everything, but
real control frankly proved beyond his grasp. He never really directed his
organization in any meaningful way, either through the branches or through the
overseas missions, where developments unfolded more often in response to local
circumstances than to Donovan’s direction. Donovan was in fact widely
recognized as a poor administrator, with Washington’s James Rogers attesting to
the ‘endless administrative crises’, and London’s David Bruce believing that one
should ‘[n]ever ask [Donovan] what to do. Do it and show him what you have
done.’15 Donovan’s shortcomings were compounded by his erratic behavior (see
Chapter 2), and all of these factors contributed by 1945 to a widespread antipathy
for Donovan personally which gravely undermined his attempts at securing OSS
in the post-war intelligence bureaucracy.16
This context was most significant when Donovan’s plans ran up against the
military’s ideas for post-war intelligence. Bradley Smith has suggested—on the
strength of a 12 September 1945 Truman memo to the Secretaries of State, War,
and Navy sanctioning their request for continued peacetime signals intelligence
collaboration with the British—that Truman consciously opted for SIGINT as the
foundation of post-war American intelligence as opposed to continuing with the
dubious and unorthodox OSS.17 More convincing is the likelihood that
Donovan’s reputation for erratic behavior, arrogant stubbornness, and blatant
ambition determined OSS’s fate by alienating the military, who had their own
views about post-war intelligence. The senior US Army officer of the American
Joint Intelligence Staff, Colonel Ludwell Montague, participated in the US JIC’s
‘fierce debate’ over Donovan’s proposal, and personally drafted JIC 239/5 (noted
above). His recollections of events reveal that only passing attention was paid to
the issue of post-war intelligence organization until Donovan’s plan of 18
November 1944 was circulated to the JIC. Donovan’s proposed monopoly on
clandestine intelligence work, strategic intelligence, and national intelligence
policy threatened to give him effective control over all other American
intelligence agencies. This would obviously remove OSS and therefore Donovan
from under the JCS and eclipse the JIC.18 The JCS instructed Montague to
prepare a JIC service members’ paper on the issue (JIC 239/1), arguing that ‘no
one operating agency (such as OSS) should be given the power to coordinate the
others’ as this would violate the principle of ‘chain of command’.19 Although the
JIC’s civilian members favoured Donovan’s plan, a compromise position was
eventually worked out by Montague as JIC 239/5, dated 1 January 1945. This
proposed a National Intelligence Authority (made up of the Secretaries of State,
War, and Navy) coordinating the activities of a director of central intelligence,
AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON 197
who would also receive assessments and planning advice from a JIC-like
Intelligence Advisory Board.20
Secretary of War Henry Stimson favoured the JCS compromise, but suggested
that the matter be set aside until war’s end.21 DDI General Magruder counselled
Donovan to accept the JCS compromise as this would ‘disarm the opposition’
and secure OSS as the nucleus of post-war American intelligence. Donovan
ignored this advice. His ‘authoritarian attitude’ and ‘zealous inability to consider
any other point of view than his own’ thus left OSS grievously exposed upon
Roosevelt’s death when, unaware of the JCS 239/5 plan, Truman preferred to let
the Bureau of the Budget carry on with its recommendations for demobilizing
various wartime agencies.22 The proposed demobilizations soon included OSS.
Despite Donovan’s plaintive requests to all and sundry for OSS’s survival and its
‘centralized’ format (which Donovan disingenuously claimed was being copied
by the British), Truman unceremoniously approved terminating OSS on 13
September 1945, effective 1 October.23 Without any obvious reason to put up
with Donovan and his ambitions for intelligence supremacy, the existing JCS-JIC
capacity for coordinated strategic assessment enabled Truman to jettison the
troublesome OSS Director. The attraction of the JIC moreover depended not so
much on SIGINT (which incidentally remained firmly split between the military
services until the formation of the National Security Agency in 1952)24 as on its
existing capacity for producing joint strategic intelligence assessments, all of
which obviously resembled Britain’s JIC system more than OSS. Equally
important was the fact that Truman’s decision disposed of Donovan while
preserving the OSS operational intelligence branches, albeit in a different guise.
This crucial detail is routinely overlooked by historians who imply that the
various branches completely expired upon Truman’s termination order.25 With a
JIC responsible for strategic assessments, the American intelligence community
from 1 October 1945 also included a scaled-down operational intelligence
service when SI and X-2 together formed the Strategic Services Unit within the
War Department (R&A managed to find a home in the State Department’s
Interim Research and Intelligence Service upon OSS’s dissolution, while SO was
closed down altogether before Truman’s order).26 The preservation of such
assets would prove most significant in the coming months.
While these ultimately critical organizational developments unfolded in
Washington, the London mission focused on supporting post-hostilities work in
occupied Germany. OSS/London postulated in August 1944 that OSS would play
a role through R&A monitoring German political, economic, social, and military
developments; SI obtaining information on those very aspects of German life;
and X-2 exploiting its information about German espionage and sabotage
organizations to advise the Allied Control Commission. X-2 rated the probability
of continued German secret intelligence or espionage work a high one since
plans for such underground intelligence activities had already come to their
attention. As well, the potential for an underground Nazi party was considered
‘broader and larger’ than work against the Nazi espionage system, which had
198 THE TRANSITION TO COLD WAR
personalities of all intelligence services rather than the German and Japanese’,
although X-2’s counter-measures were doubtless compromised by Broadway’s
new Russian Desk chief and Soviet-controlled double-agent, Kim Philby.40
While the original emphasis on containing post-war German resistance
admittedly began undergoing a sea-change as OSS faded away, X-2’s experience
merely underscored the extent to which OSS was completely unprepared for
work against Russia after Germany’s defeat. This fact obviously erodes the
assumption that OSS did anything of prophetic consequence against Russia as
the European war ended. Indeed, the obliviousness to the Soviet threat was long
evident in repeated OSS assessments of Britain’s and Russia’s relative status that
mirrored the prevailing view among American authorities, and which
cumulatively contributed to Britain’s subsequent desperate position. Most
American officials were loath to be seen as overreacting to Russia’s nascent
power. One unnamed State Department officer in Berne opined in 1943 that the
‘Bolshevism bogy [was] being used as so often before to conjure up the specter
of “Red Terror” and Atheism, without any attempt to discuss Marxism or
Stalinism’. He also stated that ‘Stalin’s repeated disclaimers of any desires to
Bolshevize Europe—including the…declaration of the Soviet Presidium
declaring that they [would] not impose their form of government in Europe—
should be useful to us’.41 Such sentiments were duplicated within R&A. R&A/
London’s Post War Problems Committee under Paul Sweezy responded to the
question of Big Three cooperation in Germany by arguing in September 1944
that Russia would be motivated primarily by self-interest, which in turn dictated
close harmonious ties to the western powers. There was ‘no question of Russian
occupation of territory’ beyond its 1940 borders (excepting Germany), ‘and no
reason to suppose that Russia [had] any intention or desire to occupy such
territory some time in the future The USSR [had] vast undeveloped resources
and an economic system which [would] permit their unlimited exploitation for
purposes of internal development.’ The fact that ‘Russia [had] no aggressive
designs [was] confirmed by everything that…happened since the beginning of
the war with Germany. Official Russian pronouncements and acts [had] shown a
meticulous regard for the independence of neighboring states.’ No European
country would have any ‘incentive to attack Britain since…[it did] not constitute
a mil itary menace and possesse[d] no resources indispensable to Europe’.
Britain’s congenital conservatism and Russian security concerns nevertheless
suggested ‘the probability of a clash between British and Russian European
policies after the war’, in which case America’s best course of action would be
‘to refuse support to British policy and to seek to work out a common policy with
Russia towards the countries of Europe. This seemed logical since a successful
British imperialist policy would jeopardize the European peace, while ‘probable
Russian objectives [were] compatible with the maintenance of peace in the
calculable future. If Russia and the United States…[could] pursue common
policies towards the nations of Europe, Britain [would] have no alternative to
joining them.’42 These basic characterizations of British and Russian motivations
200 THE TRANSITION TO COLD WAR
do to affect that desired end beyond courting the Soviet dictator; whether or not
he played along depended entirely on Stalin. The viability of American post-war
policy rested on Stalin’s cooperation in respecting independent states, his
concern merely for Soviet security, his intention to focus on domestic
reconstruction, etc.; all America could do to further those goals was mollify
Stalin through recognition of Russia’s power, avoid provoking defensive
hostility, and ostentatiously distance itself from perfidious Albion’s traditional
Great Power politicking against imagined Bolshevik bogies.
This approach was on one level a realistic acceptance of the reality of Soviet
power, and the limits on America’s options, but it nevertheless reflected
Roosevelt’s own naïveté enshrined as policy. According to William Emerson, the
‘soundness and realism of his political motives’ were particularly questionable.
Roosevelt apparently doubted the American people’s ‘ability and willingness to
shoulder new, weighty, and, as the event has shown, unavoidable
responsibilities’, but a fundamental flaw of his policy stemmed from his hope,
‘in the changed world of 1945, to pursue a course of action which would
preserve the benefits while avoiding the disadvantages of isolation’.52 Central to
this intent was the underlying assumption that the Second World War would be
the last war, thus minimizing the importance of developing a concrete basis for
post-war security against Russia—Russia, after all, was expected to be
conveniently compliant and moderate.53 The reality of Soviet power, however,
ensured that America could not be the controlling element in Europe.54
Roosevelt therefore had to rely on his ability to manage Stalin—on his ability to
‘stroke a tiger into a kitten’- and it is here that US policy manifested a willing
belief in Russia’s reasonableness in a new world which would supplant Britain’s
cynical methods.55 Roosevelt actually articulated the reasoning behind this belief
to Churchill (concerning the prospect of Chinese designs on Indochina) when he
stated that Britain had ‘400 years of acquisitive instinct in [its] blood and you
just don’t understand how a country might not want to acquire land somewhere
if they can get it. A new period has opened up in the world’s history, and you
will have to adjust to it.’56
The worth of Roosevelt’s policy thus depended entirely on his reading of
Stalin’s motives and attitudes, and their susceptibility to Roosevelt’s influence.
Stalin had his own ideas, particularly under the rubric of Soviet security.
Roosevelt in particular misunderstood Stalin’s participation in the optimistically
named Grand Alliance for the defeat of Russia’s arch-enemy as a commitment to
a post-war New Order.57 Once the common enemy was defeated, there was no
common objective between America and Russia, and Stalin began to assert what
he felt were his security requirements.58 These amounted to an unreasonable
hegemony in eastern Europe, which America was slow to appreciate thanks to its
leader’s misplaced, if somewhat desperate, optimism in an Uncle Joe who never
was.59 Allied to this aggressive security stance was Stalin’s eagerness to exploit
Russia’s new ability to project power into areas previously beyond its reach.
Because western leaders failed to impress Stalin with the limits of their
202 THE TRANSITION TO COLD WAR
Big Three cooperation, and only in light of British or American insincerity would
Russia ‘try by political intrigue to stir up trouble in Greece, the whole of the
Middle East and India, and exploit her influence over the Communist parties in
the countries concerned to stimulate opposition to an anti-Russian policy’.
Allowing for Russian ‘tactlessness in the handling of international affairs’,
Russia’s dealings with America and Britain would ‘depend very largely on the
ability of either side to convince the other of the sincerity of its desire for
collaboration’.63 These views were accepted by Foreign Secretary Anthony Eden,
and their similarity with contemporary American assumptions can be
appreciated.64 There was also a significant difference—the realization that
concessions to Russia had to be founded on a hard and fast mutual recognition of
interest, and a reliance on assertiveness (or ultimately a form of ‘containment’) in
the event of Soviet non-cooperation. Britain’s weakness put it at a definite
disadvantage compared to Russia, but British policy was not so simplistic and
crude as to rely exclusively on Stalin’s presumed goodwill and reasonableness.
The British seemed to be more overtly putting their stock in establishing an
understanding based on certain power realities.65
This cautious optimism was nevertheless forced to undergo substantial
revision as Anglo-Russian relations passed from the Grand Alliance stage to one
of active Soviet hostility toward British interests born of Stalin’s assumption of
American detachment. This, according to Harbutt, set the framework for a third
stage whereby a Soviet-instigated crisis in Anglo-Russian relations throughout
1946 finally saw America brought into confrontation with Soviet aggression.
There were three main areas of Soviet pressure throughout these stages—
Turkey, Greece, and Iran, just as anticipated. Bruce R.Kuniholm further
underscores that the Near East traditionally stood as a buffer zone between
Britain and Russia, and its role in the post-war Anglo-Soviet rivalry was such
that it revolutionized American foreign policy toward an eventual commitment to
confronting Russia.66 Harry Truman’s ascendancy to the White House did not
alter the fact that America was in 1945 committed to a detached, cooperative
policy concerning Russia, and Truman’s neophyte status in fact made it that
much more problematic as to whether the US would adopt an overtly challenging
attitude toward Russian aims with sufficient alacrity.67
Turkish and Greek affairs were particularly entwined for the British in the
war’s closing months. The threat to Greece centred around the Communist EAM
movement in the country seeking to overthrow the Greek monarchy, while overt
Russian hostility to Turkey was connected with Soviet territorial ambitions in the
region. Blatant Russian ‘coldness’ toward Turkey manifested itself as early as
September 1944 when Russia’s Ambassador failed to call on Turkey’s new
Foreign Minister, thus underscoring that ‘greater efforts [had] been made on the
Turkish side than on the Soviet side to improve relations’.68 Soviet hostility
increased as Anglo-Turkish relations improved after spring 1944; by March
1945, Radio Moscow barraged Turkey daily with criticism and abuse, which the
Foreign Office interpreted as a run-up to Soviet demands regarding the
204 THE TRANSITION TO COLD WAR
Bosphorus and Dardenelles (‘the Straits question’).69 Russia duly followed with
a June 1945 demand for bases in the Straits, and the FO concluded by July that
Russia was ‘preparing to challenge [Britain’s] policy of building up a strong and
independent Greece and Turkey friendly to Great Britain, and at the same time
strengthen the position of their own client in Bulgaria’. Britain assumed that this
was primarily intended to preclude Bulgaria’s isolation, and that a successful
countering by Britain would stop Russian plans. Soviet successes in Greece,
however, would enable them to ‘overthrow the Greek Government and revive
EAM and also to reduce Turkey by a war of nerves to a state where she would be
prepared to give the Soviet Government the bases on the Straits which she has
demanded, and generally to force her into the Russian orbit’.70 The JIC still
assumed that Russia would prefer exhausting all peaceful means of realizing its
Turkish ambitions before initiating overt military aggression against Greece from
Bulgaria, but the COS took a more urgent view of Britain’s predicament: while
the FO assumed that the British Army could commit itself to a defence of the
Greek frontiers, Field-Marshal Sir Alan Brooke stressed that such a change in
policy from strictly internal security duties in Greece would require Cabinet
approval. Britain would moreover have to increase its forces in Greece
considerably. Few of the necessary British Army formations were currently
available in Britain or the Middle East, and the RAF component could only be
secured barring any other Mediterranean threat. Brooke particularly stressed that
Britain ‘might well be seriously embarrassed militarily if [its] bluff were called;
and besides, the risk of conflict with Russian forces would have to be taken
seriously into account in assessing…[the] overall military situation’.71
As the COS stressed Britain’s desperate military position, the British Embassy
in Washington found the new Secretary of State, James Byrnes, ‘very much out
of his depth in these South Eastern European problems’ toward the end of August,
and reluctant to issue simultaneous pronouncements on such matters ‘as this would
merely give [the] Russians needless cause to complain that [America and
Britain] were ganging up on them’. The Joint Staff Planners underscored the
danger of American reticence given British military weakness in a September
appreciation requested by the FO which focused on how Russian demands
concerning the Straits permitted further expansion into the eastern Mediterranean
and Middle East, a direct blow against British interests. Russian bases in the
Straits were deemed ‘unacceptable’, requiring Britain to prevent such extension
and preserve the status quo. If Britain had American support this threat would be
greatly offset, but the JPS went on to note that ‘[a]t present the attitude the
Americans are likely to take in opposing Russian demands [was] uncertain’.72
This doubt was reinforced in a matter of days when the British Embassy in
Washington reiterated that while American rhetoric concerning Russian policy in
Rumania and Bulgaria seemed tougher,
influence the basic European balance of power. This made Persia a major area of
competition in addition to Central Asia and the Indian frontier itself, and the
ensuing ‘Great Game’ encompassed the evolution of British intelligence activity
in the region, with a system of consular watching posts coordinated from
Meshed, Persia operating by 1886.80 Anglo-Russian intrigue within Persia would
be the staple in 1945, as it had been in the 1800s, as the Russians again sought to
influence the larger European balance of power in the Near East. Persia’s
obvious oil potential added to its strategic significance, and this was not lost on
the Russians.81 By October 1944, Persia was resisting Russia’s demands for oil
concessions to explore and exploit the northern oil-bearing regions, which
naturally introduced considerable tension between the two.82 This led to the
usual Russian methods of intimidation and hostility, summarized by the British
Combined Intelligence Centre Iraq and Persia (CICIP) as follows:
Soviet anger over the refusal of oil concessions triggered ultimately unsuccessful
efforts ‘to dominate Southern Persia by controlling its largest industrial centre
through the TUDEH Party’. Despite 1942 treaty obligations to remove British
and Russian troops within six months after the end of hostilities, many Red
Army troops were left behind as ostensible civilians. When a tribal revolt broke
out in Azerbaijan on 16 November, the rebels were assisted by Persian ex-
residents of the USSR and by Russian troops in plain clothes. Russian forces
even went so far as to stop the Persian government from sending its own military
to suppress the revolt, thus bluntly ending Persian authority in that province.83
Throughout this campaign, Russia assailed Persia with print and radio assaults
against Britain in an effort to capitalize on British weakness and undermine
British influence.84 These attacks were often imaginative. CICIP noted in August
1945 that the Iran-i-Ma newspaper argued that ‘there would be no change in
British policy as a result of the [July] Labour victory, for as everyone well knew,
the British Empire was ruled by the British Secret Service, and a change of
Government would certainly make for no change in the policy of that sinister
body’ (CICIP noted that the article’s writer had ‘fell foul of the British Security
authorities in 1943 and was subsequently interned’).85 Two weeks later it was
revealed that the Freedom Front newspaper conceived the British Conservative
AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON 207
Party as being ‘at the centre of a monstrous spider’s-web of intrigue with world-
wide ramifications, the power behind the British Secret Service and the agency
responsible for the training of such fiendish spies as T.E. LAWRENCE’; the
recent change of government was ‘merely another plot to lull the Workers of the
World into a false sense of security, and then, from ambush, to strike and destroy
their power forever’.86 More serious was the constant Soviet press criticism of
British international policy, domestic social conditions, and the government’s
general attitude, including post-election disappointment with the Labour Party
and its dependence on America.87 The implied American support of Britain was
certainly exaggerated concerning Persia as these events were unfolding, since the
British Ambassador to Tehran described his American counterpart, Wallace
Murray, as being ignorant of British policy and actions in the country as late as
November 1945.88 The FO hoped in December that the departing British
Ambassador, Sir Reader Bullard, would ‘make a final attempt to remove some of
Mr Murray’s misconceptions about British policy’, although it was conceded
that Murray was ‘one of those Americans whose pre-conceived ideas it [would]
be most difficult to shift’ as Britain tried to communicate its concerns over
Russian actions.89
The August-December 1945 period thus saw British officialdom confront the
reality of Soviet designs on British interests, and the concomitant realization that
Britain could not on its own mollify or contain this aggression without American
help. Britain’s wartime experience had firmly ‘imprinted in British decision-
makers the judgement that the American connection was Britain’s most vital last-
ditch strategic asset’.90 Britain was essentially in the same position it was in
during 1917 and 1941—isolated against a powerful adversary, and looking to
America for deliverance. Britain again had to convince America of its interest in
thwarting Britain’s rivals.91 With Britain’s power stretched to the limit, it now
had to overcome America’s naive policy premises, the assumptions of British
deviousness, and the reality of the Soviet threat to fashion another ‘marriage of
necessity’.92
That would not be easy in light of prevailing American attitudes about
Britain’s status as a Great Power and the exercise of American leadership. A
dispatch on American attitudes by Mr John Balfour of Britain’s Washington
Embassy to Foreign Secretary Bevin on 9 August 1945 stressed how Americans
thought in terms of ‘the Big Two’, namely America and Russia. The new reality
of American dominance made it partial to a faith ‘in the magic of large words; an
enthusiastic belief that the mere enunciation of an abstract principle is equivalent
to its concrete fulfillment; a tendency to overlook the practical difficulties that
obstruct the easy solution of current problems’; and ‘a constant disposition to
prefer the emotional to the rational approach’, all of which would provoke
‘impatience with the more stolid, disillusioned and pragmatic British, and to give
rise to current misunderstandings between [the] two Governments’. America still
held Britain in considerable esteem, but this tended to assume ‘the apparently
ineradicable idea that nature has endowed the British with a well-nigh
208 THE TRANSITION TO COLD WAR
inexhaustible store of superior cunning, of which they are only too prone to make
the fullest possible use’ in international affairs. Americans thus tended to
criticize British policy by way of ‘a number of ugly catch-words…e.g. balance
of power, Spheres of Influence, reactionary imperialist trends, colonial
aggression, old-world guile, diplomatic double-talk, Uncle Sam [the] Santa
Claus and sucker, and the like’. Britain could counter this tendency provided it
referred to a typically American yard-stick such as ‘moral responsibility,
idealism, or leadership’. For the time-being, Americans were still likely to rate
Russia as more important than Britain, and trust in the ability of Truman and
Byrnes to ‘succeed in resolving Soviet and American differences on a basis of
honorable compromise’ to secure a ‘world that rotates in two orbits of power’.
Americans expected that British foreign policy in Europe or the Middle East
would likely embark ‘on ill-advised courses which in the last analysis might
constitute a threat’ to US security, so America would enforce Britain’s junior
status. The British government thus had to be ‘careful to formulate requests for
their support in such a manner as to avoid teaching the Americans where their
best interests lie. … As men who themselves preferred] the simple forthright
approach, the Americans appreciate[d] plain speaking in others’, and were best
approached ‘not so much on the grounds of sentiment as upon lucidly argued
appeals to reason and the logic of hard fact’. Success in this method would then
enable Britain once again to ‘save Europe by [its] example’.93
This survey succinctly stated the ideal methodology for Britain’s appeal to
America regarding the Soviet threat during the first cold war—the reliance on
hard fact to make Americans see the light. Some FO officials still assumed that
Britain could simply ‘make shrewd use’ of America’s dependence on the British
Commonwealth’s geographical dominance in America’s own security zone ‘to
turn their immensely superior power to [Britain’s] benefit as well as to that of the
world as a whole’; but the FO’s North American Department ‘heartily share [d]’
Balfour’s advice, and successfully recommended its circulation to King George
VI and the Cabinet.94 ‘Americans appreciate realism in others even if they do not
always display it themselves’, and this realism was implicit in Britain’s
associating America with its Middle Eastern interests, instead of trying to
preserve ‘an exclusive position which would threaten to bring [Britain] into
conflict with their interests’. The Americans would also be impressed by
‘evidence of [Britain’s] old ability to judge important issues with the experience
and objectivity which they have learnt to expect…and to give wise council when
the atmosphere is over-charged with emotional tension’.95
Intelligence could play a central role in realizing these objectives—shared as
they were by the highest echelons of the military and the Foreign Office—to
convince America’s government of the reality of Soviet aggression against
British, and ultimately American, interests. The circulation of British intelligence
to America’s JIC, JCS, and State Department throughout 1945–46 demonstrates
the heretofore unacknowledged intelligence dimension of the process by which
America came to ally herself with Britain and confront Russia. Although it has
AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON 209
Russia and a fading, yet Machiavellian, Britain as the European war ended. The
underlying assumptions of American policy were clearly manifest in America’s
main strategic assessment mechanism. Weak British conservatism and a powerful,
but inward-looking USSR could be managed by America. There was little
potential for serious trouble in the Near East.
The US JIC found cause to reassess matters throughout 1945, however. The
JIS transmitted an analysis of Soviet capabilities to the JCS on behalf of the JIC
on 29 November 1945 that considered ‘Soviet political aims and capabilities for
expanding the Soviet sphere of influence by means short of war through 1
January 1948’, and Russia’s ability to support a major war. The JIS concluded
that Russia’s economy was likely to remain incapable of supporting a war over
the coming five years, thus making Russia ‘likely to avoid the risks of such a war
during that period’. Russia would nevertheless pursue the aim of establishing
Soviet hegemony in peripheral areas. Russia maintained an as yet unrealized
ability to foment civil strife in Greece, and its goals in Turkey were confined to
revising the Straits question and neutralizing Turkey as a base for hostile action
against Russia. Russia was unlikely to expand its influence in Persia as this
would risk an open break with Britain.102 This assessment of Soviet activities
emphasized the idea that Russia was only seeking to consolidate its recent
peripheral acquisitions. A 31 January 1946 analysis assumed that Russia was not
prepared to risk deliberately a major conflict with the other Great Powers;
however, a conflict could result from ‘Soviet miscalculation as to the point
beyond which she [could not] aggressively pursue these aims without directly
provoking Anglo-American military reaction’, or from ‘an incident, involving a
minor power such as Turkey, which might produce indirectly a British, and
subsequently a US military reaction’. It was nevertheless still a substantial
revision of the US JIC’s earlier assumptions about Russia’s potential aggression,
and is noteworthy given the circulation of the British JIC’s October report on the
looming threat to Turkey discussed above, and the recent Soviet annexation of
Azerbaijan.103 The British dimension of the strategic equation was explicitly
covered within a week after this report when the US JIC surveyed British
capabilities under the assumptions that Russia would ‘attempt to extend her
present boundaries or spheres of influence by military action’, and that Britain
would resist these efforts either with direct US military assistance, or with ‘lend-
lease or similar support short of war’. In this detailed analysis, Britain was
specifically judged incapable of unilaterally stopping a Soviet seizure of Greece,
Turkey or Persia through to 1948, and could not by herself protect the Suez Canal
against Russian attack after 1952. The report specifically noted that Russian
interest in the eastern Mediterranean/Near East focused on these areas, Vitally
important’ and absolutely necessary to Britain.104
The JIC was now a good deal less smug about the prospects of Russian
cooperativeness, or Britain’s irrational exaggeration of the ‘Bolshevik menace’.
The increased receipt of British assessments from the British Joint Staff Mission
(BJSM) in Washington seems to have been significant to this change in
AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON 211
was holding out on its military (not political) reporting from Germany during the
March–April period, but as indicated in Chapter 7, this was due to the paucity of
Broadway’s sources in Germany, not non-cooperation.113 What Broadway did
circulate was still instructive: 23 Balkan political reports, with ‘19 Greek items
being of particular interest’.114
With war’s end, SI’s customer list was ‘cut drastically’, but still included the
various American embassies in Europe.115 By June 1945, SI/London was
primarily involved in establishing an Economic Intelligence Desk tasked with
producing and developing ‘clandestine methods of intelligence on all matters
dealing with the concealment and flight of enemy held capital’ for post-
hostilities Nazi activities, code-named SAFE HAVEN; SAFE HAVEN counter-
intelligence matters were X-2’s preserve.116 As OSS commenced liquidation
throughout Europe, SIS was still keen to maintain the flow of information with
SI/London: Broadway especially ‘requested assurance that OSS would continue
as an intelligence agency’; SIS moreover ‘evidenced particular interest in
intelligence reports on Russia’, for reasons that are by now self-evident.117 SI/
London’s Reports and Registry Section was accordingly orientated toward being
‘chiefly an intelligence relay center’, with its original report processing
minimalized. Such an internal set-up was considered ‘as good an arrangement as
[could] presently be worked out to meet the attitude of Broadway’.118 This was a
significant factor given OSS/London’s view that its Broadway connection was
‘important as a contact between the American and British Governments on a
plane not duplicated by any other American agency’.119
After the London mission was renamed OSS/Great Britain on 12 July 1945,
the flow of Broadway intelligence increased as SI was better able to develop the
‘procedures…to give these materials the special handling’ required for their
dissemination outside SI.120 By month’s end, SI had received 62 reports from SIS
(18 more than during June), half of which concerned Greece and Yugoslavia. For
its part, ‘Broadway’s interest in OSS reports continue[d] to center in Russian
activities in the Balkans and Near East’.121 British goals were thus obvious: to
receive, and draw attention to, as much information as possible concerning those
areas of evolving strategic import to Britain relative to Russia. By August, SI’s
liaison with SIS enabled it to ‘[d]isseminate the information received from the
above source to the Commanding General, US F[orces]E[uropean] T[heater], the
US Embassy [London], the [rest of] OSS, and other authorized US Government
departments and agencies’. It was stressed that a ‘close relationship [had] been
established with…SIS, which [had] been and [would] continue to be productive
of valuable results’.122 Notably, the ‘Broadway political reports [were] now
being gotten up by the London office in disseminations for top American
customers in Europe’, including the US Embassy in London and other OSS
missions in Europe. Such reports had not until then been available for such reuse
by SI, and their content indicates the reason for the change of policy: out of 76
Broadway reports, 34 were on Russia, and 15 on the Balkans, with report S-716
revealing ‘the Turkish President’s reaction to Russian demands’ (London found
AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON 213
out in September that OSS/Cairo and OSS/Athens were also receiving British
reports on the Near East and Greece).123 OSS was in fact the only American
channel for receipt of general SIS political reports and LAMDA (apparently
economic) material concerning Europe, and considered Broadway’s Most Secret
Political series as being
This ‘increase in the type and quantity’ of Broadway reports constituted SI’s
chief activity in combination with ‘an effort to establish closer relations with the
[US] Ambassador’ in London. OSS/Great Britain’s chief, Colonel John A.
Bross, accordingly ‘took a selective group of Broadway political reports to the
Ambassador personally with a view to familiarizing him as much as possible
with the important material available’ to the mission.125 The establishment of
‘closer working relations with the Embassy [was] achieved’ as SI’s circulation of
SIS political reports began in earnest, just as OSS faced disbandment.126 During
September, SI submitted daily reports to the American Delegation to the Council
of Foreign Ministers as Broadway’s reports had increased in ‘importance, variety,
and volume. This intelligence was ascribed a high value as it emanated, in most
cases, directly from the countries concerned rather than from emigre circles in
the United Kingdom.’ All told, SI ‘servicing of the Embassy was maintained in
the customary way with material of special interest being routed directly to the
Ambassador’.127 X-2 was similarly tasked in relation to counter-intelligence
matters, the significance of which is obvious given the emerging evidence of
Russian espionage noted earlier:
X-2’s reciprocal exchange with MI6(V) was itself a function of the British
assumption that they were dealing with a permanent opposite number ‘parallel in
character to themselves’.129 The September 1945 defection of Igor Gouzenko in
214 THE TRANSITION TO COLD WAR
Ottawa, his information on Soviet intelligence ciphers, and their role in revealing
further intelligence on Russian espionage (codenamed VENONA) would later
provide a significant amount of CI material for exchange by this reliable route.130
The end of OSS did not signal any change in these developments. The final
report from OSS/Great Britain explicitly noted that
[d]espite the uncertainty as to the immediate future of OSS and the form of
any successor organization, representatives of this Mission, in their
dealings with SIS, have continued to express their confidence that a
successor organization was in process of formation which would take over
the functions and probably some of the existing personnel of OSS as it is
presently constituted. The situation was explained…to Commander Arnold
Foster, in an off-the-record conversation[,] and ‘C’ was informed of the
content of Mr Cheston’s cable explaining the incorporation of OSS into the
War Department as an agency directly responsible to the assistant
Secretary of War.131
Enter the Strategic Services Unit. Under the direction of Brigadier-General John
Magruder (formerly OSS Deputy-Director of Intelligence), and without definite
guarantees concerning its future, SSU preserved those parts of OSS with
potential utility for a future permanent intelligence service, notably SI and
X-2.132 Continuing the SIS intelligence exchanges was therefore a top priority of
SSU/Great Britain’s small SI and X-2 staff. With the transition from OSS to SSU,
there was a well-established procedure in place for disseminating Broadway
political reports to the American Embassy in London, and to the SSU missions in
Paris, Germany, Salzburg, Rome, and Cairo for further distribution to their
military and diplomatic customers, all under the cryptonym WARWICK/
COVENTRY. WARWICK/COVENTRY reports were given modified
introductions to avoid disclosing SIS as the source, and to remove SSU one step
from Broadway’s informants. Distribution was strictly limited: five to seven
copies went to London consumers, including the Ambassador and Embassy
Counsellor, both of whom were personally briefed on the meaning of the
WARWICK/COVENTRY cryptonym; ten copies went to the American Zone in
Germany, including General Lucius Clay (the Commanding General), his chief of
intelligence, the G-2 and G-3 of American forces in Europe, and the American
Ambassador (all but the G-3 were briefed on the cryptonym); and six copies went
to Paris for the French, Dutch, and Belgian US Embassies.133 This procedure was
then disrupted throughout October-December 1945. SSU continued to receive
high-quality Broadway reports—especially LAMDA economic reports, as well
as November material on Russia and its activities in the Near East (the latter
were courtesy of Broadway’s regional Inter-Services Liaison Department
[ISLD]), and increasing December coverage ‘of Turkey and Soviet-Turkish
relations…by a source whose judgement and information [was] regarded by
Broadway as very reliable’—but SI could not give them external dissemination
AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON 215
General Staff (Intelligence) noted that ‘Arabic ciphers [could] be broken locally;
Russian ciphers [were] dealt with in London’, the new home for GCHQ. This
source would have revealed much of the information SSU received from
Broadway, especially on order of battle, troop movements, logistics, and
depending on the ciphers broken, political-diplomatic material as well.144
With such sources available to SIS, it was fortuitous that SSU/Great Britain’s
ability to circulate Broadway reports among its American customers resumed in
January 1946. SSU disseminated Broadway reports on Turkey to the US
Embassy in London, stating explicitly that they ‘came from an experienced
observer, [and would] merit [the Embassy’s] special attention’.145 For its part,
SSU told the American Ambassador to Britain that it did ‘not regard it as a mere
accident’ that such political information had reached them ‘with a remarkable
degree of consistency. It [was], after all, presumed by [their] British opposite
number [i.e., SIS] that this information [would] ultimately reach the proper
quarters in the American Government.’146
Broadway reports on Russian interest in Greek affairs, conditions in
Lithuania, and Turko-Russian relations then followed.147 By February, the
prospect of exchanging SAFE HAVEN material with SIS was explored as past
experience indicated that the FO’s Economic Division was ‘very keen on this
type of information’, and SSU hoped that this would secure even more Broadway
material.148 SSU-SIS relations ‘on the working level continue[d] on the best of
terms’ throughout March, and Broadway’s allowance ‘for a fairly liberal
exchange of questions as to given subjects and areas’ was particularly
appreciated. It was further hoped that an increase in American intelligence to
Britain would allow SSU to press for even more British reports.149 There was
evidently no lack of American enthusiasm for Broadway’s product, and the
quality and quantity of reports exchanged with SIS during April improved. X-2
was increasing its CI disseminations at this time by about 10 per cent over
February (X-2 also operated by early March 1946 its own ‘clandestine link into
Russia through a White Russian group which worked for the Germans’).150
SSU further noted in May that America’s delegation to the April Paris
Conference of Foreign Ministers had been ‘entirely dependent on SSU for the
type of information procured by clandestine means which [it] had been able to
provide’.151 The level of exchanges with SIS continued at a similar pace
throughout the summer. SSU’s June collection of Broadway reports totalled 145,
while those for July numbered 279.152 By September, SSU conceded its
complete reliance on a dozen ISLD reports for intelligence on Persia given the
lack of SSU sources there, and noted that only one SSU man remained in Turkey.153
The cumulative effects of these intelligence acquisitions were very real. For
one thing, British reports helped erode the American reticence to address
intelligence on Russia. One frustrated SSU officer noted in March 1946 that the
‘fear to deal openly with the Russian question [had] permeated down to all levels
of the government to a degree that it [was] …considered poor taste and an
infraction of some ephemeral rule to speak out specifically or concretely on
AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON 217
NOTES
1. See Eden to Churchill, 23 November 1944, CAB 79/83; COS (45), 190th Mtg,
Minute 2, 2 August 1945, CAB 79/37; JP (45) 235 (S) (T of R), 2 September 1945,
CAB 84/75; COS (45) 263rd Mtg, Minute 3, regarding COS (45) 638 (O), 31
October 1945, CAB 79/41; JP (45) 304 (S) (T of R), 5 December 1945, CAB 84/77;
all in PRO.
2. Jackson report, ‘British Intelligence System’, Donovan Papers, USAMHI, pp. 11 n.
4, 18–19, 40 (on GCHQ successes credited to SIS), 49, (on JIB).
3. Draft Question and Answer, attached to Chancellor of the Exchequer to Prime
Minister, 8 June 1945, and Churchill’s reply in Churchill to Chancellor of the
Exchequer, 11 June 1945, all in PREM 4/1619, PRO.
4. See JIC (45) 293 (Final), ‘Manpower Requirements for Post-War Intelligence
Organisations’, 13 October 1945, CAB 79/40, PRO.
5. Jackson, ‘British Intelligence System’, pp. 62–4.
6. Ibid.
7. Evill Report, COS (47) 231 (O), 8 November 1947, quoted and commented on in
‘Intelligence Organisation’, 5 July 1950, prepared on instructions of the Ministry of
Defence to the COS, DEFE 11/349, PRO.
8. Donovan to President, 18 November 1944, covering letter dated 23 February 1945,
frames 398–404, Reel 1, Entry 190, RG 226, NARA.
9. Suspicions of JCS in Donovan to President, 23 February 1945, frames 405–6, Reel
1, Entry 190, RG 226, NARA; see the Memorandum for the Record by Thomas
Troy on his telephone conversation with former high-ranking FBI official William
C. Sullivan, 23 December 1974 (misdated 1954), Folder 56, Box 7, Troy Papers,
RG 263, NARA—Sullivan states that the FBI leaked the Donovan memo, and that
Trohan pliantly published it according to FBI wishes given compromising
information about his son in the FBI’s possession.
220 THE TRANSITION TO COLD WAR
10. Donovan to JCS, 15 February 1945, frames 409–13, and Donovan to JCS, 22
February 1945, frames 407–8, Reel 1, Entry 190, RG 226, NARA.
11. Donovan to Truman, 13 September 1945, frame 455, Reel 1, Entry 190, RG 226,
NARA.
12. See also Leonard Mosley, Dulles: A Biography of Eleanor, Allen, and John Foster
Dulles and Their Family Network (New York: The Dial Press, 1978), p. 295.
13. Magruder to Donovan, 1 October 1943, Folder 35, Box 5, Troy Papers, RG 263,
NARA; Magruder comment to Rogers dated 30 November 1943, in Troy (ed.),
Wartime Washington, p. 184; (cf. Col E.F.Connoly to Donovan, 23 November
1944, frames 1271–3, Reel 77, Entry 190, RG 226, NARA, suggesting placing the
various branches under staff officers (D-1 to D-5) responsible for personnel,
intelligence, operations, services, and communications.
14. Donovan to Magruder, 3 April 1944, Folder 35, Box 5, Troy Papers, RG 263,
NARA.
15. Rogers diary entry for 8 June 1943, Troy (ed.), Wartime Washington, p. 107; Bruce
comment from Stanley P.Lovell, Of Spies and Stratagems (Englewood Cliffs:
Prentice-Hall, 1963), p. 19—see also p. 177.
16. Antipathy, Cave Brown, Last Hero, pp. 791–3; bureaucratic standing, Rhodri
Jeffreys-Jones, CIA, p. 250; see also Danny D.Jansen and Rhodri Jeffreys-Jones,
The Missouri Gang and the CIA’, in Rhodri Jeffreys-Jones and Andrew Lownie
(eds), North American Spies: New Revisionist Essays (Edinburgh: Edinburgh
University Press, 1991), pp. 124, 127–9.
17. Bradley F.Smith, ‘A Note on the OSS, Ultra, and World War II’s Intelligence
Legacy for America’, Defense Analysis 3, 2 (June 1987), pp. 186–8, citing Truman
to the Secretaries of State, War, and Navy held in the Harry S.Truman Presidential
Library; see also Bradley F.Smith, ‘The OSS and Record Group 226: Some
Perspectives and Prospects’, in Chalou (ed.), Secrets, pp. 364–6, and B.F.Smith,
Ultra-Magic, pp. 211–14, where Smith stresses the cost-effectiveness of SIGINT
while ignoring the question of coordinated strategic assessments, which lay at the
heart of the post-war intelligence debate; see also Christopher Andrew, ‘The
Growth of the Australian Intelligence Community and the Anglo-American
Connection’, Intelligence and National Security 4, 2 (April 1989), p. 223.
18. Ludwell Lee Montague MS, ‘General Walter Bedell Smith as Director of Central
Intelligence’, I, pp. iv, 36–42, RG 263, NARA; on the US JIC, see also JIC 76/4,
‘Revision of the JIC Charter,’ 23 February 1944, frames 758–76, Reel 12, Entry
95; JCS 85/1/D, ‘JIS Charter’, 26 May 1944, frames 222–4, Reel 5, Entry 190; both
in RG 226, NARA.
19. Ludwell Montague, Memorandum for the Record, 1 December 1969, on
‘Intelligence Service, 1940–1950’, with attached appendix of recollections, pp. 19–
27, Folder HS/HC 401, Box 2, History Source Collection of the CIA Historical
Staff, RG 263, NARA.
20. Ibid., and Montague MS, ‘Smith’.
21. Montague MS, ‘Smith’, p. 41; see also Henry L.Stimson, and McGeorge Bundy,
On Active Service in Peace and War (New York: Harper and Brothers, 1948), p.
455.
22. Montague MS, ‘Smith’, pp. 1, 41.
23. Donovan to Truman, 13 September 1945, frame 455, and Donovan to JCS, 13
September 1945, frame 456; Donovan to Harold D.Smith, Director, Bureau of the
AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON 221
Budget, 13 September 1945, frames 458–9 (including the claim of British imitation
of OSS); all in Reel 1, Entry 190, RG 226, NARA; see also William H.Jackson to
James Forrestal, 14 November 1945, Folder HS/HC 400, Box 2, History Source
Collection of the CIA History Staff, RG 263, NARA.
24. Bamford, Palace, pp. 68–81.
25. See for example B.F.Smith, Ultra-Magic, pp. 219, 225, 227; Andrew, Secret
Service, p. 492.
26. IRIS, Troy, Donovan, pp. 302, 337; R&A Monthly Report to the Outposts 1–30
September 1945, 5 ‘September’ [read October] 1945, Folder ‘Miscellaneous
Outpost Stuff, Box 2, Entry 39, RG 226, NARA; see below, n. 31, on SO.
27. ‘OSS Functions in Germany’, attached to Col Forgan to Brig.-Gen. Cornelius
Wickersham, 11 August 1944, Folder 347, Box 225, Entry 190, RG 226, NARA;
see also Maj.-Gen. J.F.M.Whiteley, ACoS G-2 SHAEF, to Maj.-Gen. J.A.Sinclair,
DMI, WO 219/1667, PRO concerning proposals for security in Germany, and
including the views of ‘C’ and MI5’s Director-General, Sir David Petrie.
28. JCS 1035, 6 September 1944, frames 321–3, Reel 5; ‘Overall and Special Programs
for Strategic Services Activities in the European Theater of Operations Post-
Hostilities Period’, 26 February 1945, Folder 153, Box 212—see also Tab A, JPS
610 D, frames 387–402, Reel 5, and MO to SI, ‘The Importance of Counter-
measures against German “Black” during the Period of Occupation’, Folder 253,
Box 221; all in Entry 190, RG 226, NARA.
29. ‘Over-All and Special Programs for Strategic Services Activities in Germany
during the Occupation Period’, 14 August 1945, frames 348–56—see also
organization of OSS/Germany c. June 1945, frame 443; both in Reel 132, Entry
116; ‘Proposal for OSS Unit in Germany’, 1 May 1945, Folder 2077, Box 120,
Entry 148; all in RG 226, NARA.
30. See the SHAEF JIC reports over April-May 1945 in frames 617–29, 648–57, Reel
15, Entry 190, RG 226, NARA; see also James Lucas, Kommando: German
Special Forces of World War Two (London: Grafton, 1986), pp. 284–312.
31. ‘Special Operations Program for Germany’, 10 December 1944, Folder 61, Box
220, Entry 92; SO Branch Progress Report for 1–30 June 1945, dated 26 June
1945, Folder 14, Box 6, and SO Branch Progress Report for 1–31 August 1945,
dated 1 September 1945, Folder 28, Box 7, both in Entry 99; X-2 vs. SO plan in
N.H. Pearson to F.O.Canfield, 30 October 1944, Folder 1, Box 50, Entry 115; all in
RG 226, NARA.
32. R&A/Germany Progress Report, 1–31 August 1945, dated 1 September 1945,
Folder ‘Germany’, Box 16, Entry 1, RG 226, NARA; ‘scrutinized’, ‘Counter-
Intelligence Directive, Pre-Surrender Period, Germany’, 16 September 1944, WO
208/4421, PRO; see also the disjointed memoir of an OSS member detailed to
collecting such ‘White-listed’ Germans in Edward L.Field, Retreat to Victory: A
Previously Untold OSS Operation (Surfside Beach, SC: EDMA Historical
Publishers, 1991), and the negative review by Nelson MacPherson in Intelligence
and National Security 7, 4 (October 1992), pp. 500–2.
33. OSS Planning Group: ‘Over-all and Special Programs for Strategic Services in the
European Theater, Post-Hostilities’, 12 October 1944, Folder 2, Box 86, Entry 92,
RG 226, NARA.
34. Sibert, OSS Detachment to 12th AG Weekly Report, 10 April 1945, Folder 12, Box
5; ‘war-time strength’, OSS/ETO Covering Report, 5 June 1945, Folder 13, Box 6;
222 THE TRANSITION TO COLD WAR
‘exterminating’, OSS Activities Report for May 1945, Folder 127a, Box 95; all in
Entry 99, RG 226, NARA.
35. OSS Activities Report for May 1945.
36. X-2 Branch Monthly Report for July 1945, Folder 108, Box 91; see also OSS
Activities Report for June 1945, Folder 128, Box 95, which is unsure whether these
organizations were GIS under Communist cover or vice versa; both in Entry 99, RG
226, NARA.
37. Cooperation with the Russians from OSS Activities Report for July 1945, Folder
129, Box 95, Entry 99, RG 226, NARA.
38. OSS Mission for Germany Progress Report for August 1945, Folder 17, Box 6; also
in the OSS Activities Report for August 1945, Folder 130, Box 95; both in Entry
99, RG 226, NARA.
39. OSS Mission for Germany Progress Report for September, Folder 17, Box 6; see
also OSS Activities Report for September 1945, Folder 131, Box 95; both in Entry
99, RG 226, NARA.
40. X-2 Branch Monthly Report for August 1945, Folder 109, Box 91, Entry 99, RG
226, NARA; on Philby, see Christopher Andrew and Oleg Gordievsky, KGB: The
Inside Story (New York: Harper Perennial, 1991), pp. 295–6; and Cecil, ‘Five’, pp.
351–2.
41. Digest of State Department Cables, 15 March 1943, Folder 26, Box 2, Entry 145,
RG 226, NARA.
42. R&A/London comments on ‘Three Power cooperation and the Occupation of
Germany’, c. September 1944—see also comments by Franz L.Neumann to
Chandler Morse for Sweezy, 21 September 1944, Emile Depres to Morse for
Sweezy, 22 September 1944, the more negative comments of J.A.Morrison to
William Langer, 18 September 1944; all in Folder ‘London II’, Box 18, Entry 1,
RG 226, NARA; for some FO reaction to an OSS/Washington report on post-war
Russian capabilities and intentions; one official said that ‘In general, the paper is
written with an air of authority which may be very misleading… I cannot believe
that all the positive statements made…could be proved. I think they are good
guesses; but I doubt they are much more than that’; another wrote that ‘It is too
optimistic and too doctrinaire, but none the less a very good piece of work. From p.
56 onwards it is pure speculation and at times unduly verbose[;] economics section
is worth reading’; see the minutes dated 15, 16, and 25 June 1945 in FO 371/
47883, N8125/165/G, PRO.
43. Schorske to Morse for Arthur Schlesinger, 21 September 1944, Folder ‘London
Letters Out, 1/8/44–30/9/44’, Box 4, Entry 52, RG 226, NARA.
44. Quinn Shaughnessy to Donovan through Bruce, 8 September 1944, Folder 783,
Box 255, Entry 190, RG 226, NARA; see also Katz, Foreign, pp. 124–8, 149–64.
45. Robert Beitzell, The Uneasy Alliance: America, Britain, and Russia, 1941–1943
(New York: Alfred A.Knopf, 1972), p. 384; see also Norman A.Graebner, America
as a World Power: A Realist Appraisal from Wilson to Reagan (Wilmington:
Scholarly Resources Inc., 1984), pp. 87–8.
46. Cordell Hull, Memoirs, Vol. II (New York: Macmillan, 1948), pp. 1109–10; see
also Julius W.Pratt, The American Secretaries of State and Their Diplomacy, Vol.
XIII: Cordell Hull, 1933–44 (New York: Cooper Square, 1964), pp. 532–3; on free
trade influences on modern American policy, see David P. Calleo and Benjamin
M. Rowland, America and the World Political Economy: Atlantic Dreams and
AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON 223
National Realities (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1973), pp. 3, 17, 35–7;
see also Gier Lundestad, ‘Moralism, Presentism, Exceptionalism, Provincialism,
and Other Extravagancies in American Writings on the Early Cold War Years’,
Diplomatic History 13, 4 (Fall 1989), pp. 527–45; cf. Gabriel Kolko, The Politics
of War: The World and United States Foreign Policy, 1943–1945 (New York:
Random House, 1968), passim, part of the revisionist school of Cold War
historiography with its portrait of predatory American capitalism as the driving
force behind US diplomacy in the closing phase of the war; see also the more recent
work of Randall Bennett Woods, A Changing of the Guard: Anglo-American
Relations, 1941–1946 (Chapel Hill: The University of North Carolina Press, 1990),
especially pp. 1–32, 244–300, 397–407.
48. See William R.Emerson, ‘FDR (1941–1945)’, in Ernest R.May (ed.), The Ultimate
Decision: The President as Commander in Chief (New York: George Braziller,
1960), pp. 170–1, 176; see also Richard Leopold, The Growth of American Foreign
Policy: A History (New York: Alfred A.Knopf, 1967), p. 608.
49. Sainsbury, Turning, pp. 1, 20, 217–18, 228–33, 238–9, 245, 257, 299, 307; see
also Gaddis Smith, American Diplomacy during the Second World War, 1941–
1945 (New York: John Wiley and Sons, 1966), p. 71; for a narrative of the various
wartime conferences and Big Three diplomacy, see Feis, Churchill, Roosevelt,
Stalin, passim-, see also D.C.Watt, ‘Britain and the Historiography of the Yalta
Conference and the Cold War’, Diplomatic History 13, 1 (Winter 1989), pp. 67–
98.
50. Turner, Unique, pp. 96–8; see also Robert Garson, ‘The Atlantic Alliance, Eastern
Europe and the Origins of the Cold War: From Pearl Harbor to Yalta’, in H.C.Allen
and Roger Thompson (eds), Contrast and Connection: Bicentennial Essays in
Anglo-American History (London: G.Bell and Sons, 1976), pp. 298–9.
51. Kenneth Strong, Intelligence at the Top: The Recollections of an Intelligence
Officer (London: Cassell, 1968), p. 218; see also Leopold, Growth, p. 607, and
Hathaway, Ambiguous, pp. 4–6.
52. Emerson, ‘FDR’, pp. 176–7; see also Beitzell, Uneasy, p. 384; Ernest R.May, ‘An
American Tradition in Foreign Policy: The Role of Public Opinion’, in William H.
Nelson, with Francis L.Lowenheim (eds), Theory and Practice in American
Politics (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1964), p. 122; Richard W.Steele,
The Pulse of the People. Franklin D.Roosevelt and the Gauging of American Public
Opinion’, Journal of Contemporary History 9, 4 (October 1974), p. 195; Gordon
A.Craig, ‘The Political Leader as Strategist’, in Peter Paret (ed.), Makers of Modern
Strategy: From Machiavelli to the Nuclear Age (Princeton: Princeton University
Press, 1986), pp. 507–8; George F.Kennan, Memoirs, 1925–1950 (Boston: Little,
Brown and Co., 1967), pp. 214–15, also characterizes Roosevelt’s policy
concerning eastern Europe toward the end of the war as having ‘basic elements of…
unrealism’.
53. See Samuel P.Huntington, The Soldier and the State: The Theory and Politics of
Civil-Military Relations (Cambridge, MA: The Belknap Press of Harvard
University Press, 1959), p. 344; cf. Warren F.Kimball, The Juggler: Franklin
Roosevelt as Wartime Statesman (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1991), p.
17.
54. Graebner, America, p. 105.
224 THE TRANSITION TO COLD WAR
55. Quotation from Frederick W.Marks III, Wind Over Sand: The Diplomacy of
Franklin Roosevelt (Athens: The University of Georgia Press, 1988), p. 169; see
also W.Averell Harriman and Elie Abel, Special Envoy to Churchill and Stalin,
1941–1946 (New York: Random House, 1975), pp. 170, 216; cf. with Kimball,
Juggler, pp. 100–1; for a positive appraisal of Roosevelt’s idealistic, rather than
naive, approach see Willard Range, Franklin D.Roosevelt’s World Order (Athens:
University of Georgia Press, 1959), pp. xii, 18, 27–8, 31, 76, 102–19, 192, 195,
197–8; cf. Gaddis Smith, American, pp. 177–8.
56. This episode is recorded in both Thomas M.Campbell and George C.Herring (eds),
The Diaries of Edward R. Stettinius, Jr., 1943–1946 (New York: New Viewpoints,
1975), p. 40, and David Dilks (ed.), The Diaries of Sir Alexander Cadogan, OM,
1938–1945 (New York: G.P.Putnam’s Sons, 1972), p. 578; see also Kimball,
Juggler, pp. 127–57; Watt, Bull, pp. 80–1; Elisabeth Barker, Churchill and Eden at
War (London: Macmillan, 1978), pp. 11, 125, 129, 205; Earl Avon, The Eden
Memoirs: The Reckoning (London: Cassell, 1965), p. 513.
57. See Isaac Deutscher, Stalin: A Political Biography (Harmondsworth: Penguin, rev.
edn 1966), p. 494; Vojtech Mastney, Russia’s Road to the Cold War: Diplomacy,
Warfare, and the Politics of Communism, 1941–1945 (New York: Columbia
University Press, 1979), pp. 124–5; see also John Lewis Gaddis, ‘The Emerging Post-
Revisionist Synthesis on the Origins of the Cold War’, Diplomatic History 7, 3
(Summer 1983), pp. 171–90 (pp. 175–6 on Mastney); see also Craig, ‘Strategist’,
in Paret, Makers, pp. 504, 508–9.
58. Beitzell, Uneasy, pp. 366, 378.
59. Ibid., p. 384; Mastney, Road, pp. 283, 306; see also William Taubman, Stalin’s
American Policy: From Entente to Détente to Cold War (New York: W.W.Norton,
1982), pp. 9, 226; see also John Lewis Gaddis, The United States and the Origins
of the Cold War, 1941–1947 (New York: Columbia University Press, 1972), pp. 63–
4; cf. Thomas G. Paterson, On Every Front: The Making of the Cold War (New
York: W.W.Norton, 1979), pp. 1–68; Martin McCauley, The Origins of the Cold War
(London: Longman, 1983), pp. 49–51; Kimball, Juggler, pp. 83–105.
60. Mastney, Road, pp. 308, 312; see also R.C.Raack, Stalin’s Drive to the West, 1938–
1945: The Origins of the Cold War (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1995),
pp. 136–68; Garson, ‘Alliance’, pp. 296–300; J.F.C.Fuller, The Conduct of War,
1789–1961: A Study of the Impact of the French, Industrial, and Russian
Revolutions on War and its Conduct (London: Methuen, 1972), p. 304;
J.F.C.Fuller, The Decisive Battles of the Western World, and their Influence upon
History, Volume Two, 1792–1944, John Terraine (ed.) (London: Grenada, 1982),
pp. 531, 534–9, 586; Halford J.Mackinder, Democratic Ideals and Reality,
Anthony J.Pearce (ed.) (New York: W.W.Norton, 1962), pp. 62, 75, 78–9, 150;
Nicholas J.Spykman, The Geography of the Peace (New York: Harcourt, Brace and
Co., 1944), pp. 38, 41, 43; Jonathan Haslam, ‘Stalin’s Fears of a Separate Peace,
1942’, Intelligence and National Security 8, 4 (October 1993), p. 99, suggests that
the interpretation and quality of intelligence emanating from the Cambridge Five
spy ring was insufficient to influence Stalin’s perceptions and policy choices; cf.
Vladislav Zubok and Constantine Pleshakov, Inside the Kremlin’s Cold War: From
Stalin to Khrushchev (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1996), pp. 36–
53, 91–4, 121–3, 126–8.
AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON 225
61. Fraser J.Harbutt, The Iron Curtain: Churchill, America, and the Origins of the Cold
War (New York: Oxford University Press, 1986), pp. xiv, 266, 280–5; see also
Avon, Memoirs, p. 513, and Michael F.Hopkins, ‘A British Cold War?’,
Intelligence and National Security 7, 4 (October 1992), pp. 479–82; see also Terry
H.Anderson, The United States, Great Britain, and the Cold War, 1944–1947
(Columbia: University of Missouri Press, 1981); Hugh Thomas, Armed Truce: The
Beginnings of the Cold War, 1945–46 (New York: Atheneum, 1987), and the
review essay by Fraser J.Harbutt, ‘Cold War Origins: An Anglo-European
Perspective’, Diplomatic History 13, 1 (Winter 1989), pp. 123–33; on Hart’s book,
see the review essay by J.Samuel Walker, ‘The Beginnings of the Cold War: Prize-
Winning Perspectives’, Diplomatic History 12, 1 (Winter 1988), pp. 95–101; see
also Curtis Keeble, Britain, the Soviet Union and Russia (London: Macmillan,
2000), pp. 206–15.
62. PHP (43) 1 (O) (Preliminary Draft), ‘Effect of Russian Policy on British Interests’,
17 February 1944, FO 371/43384, N1 120/1120/38, PRO.
63. JIC (44) 467 (O) (Final), ‘Russia’s Strategic Interests and Intentions from the Point
of View of her Security’, 18 December 1944, FO 371/47860/N678/20/G38, PRO.
64. O.S. Sargent to L.C.Hollis, 22 January 1945, FO 371/47860/N678/20/G, PRO; see
also Barker, Churchill, pp. 125, 138.
65. See Barker, Churchill, p. 128.
66. Harbutt, Iron, pp. xiv, 118–22; Bruce R.Kuniholm, The Origins of the Cold War in
the Near East: Great Power Conflict and Diplomacy in Iran, Turkey, and Greece
(Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1980), pp. xv–xxi, 3–5, 68–72, 125–9, 203–
8, 298–431; cf. Melvyn P.Leffler, A Preponderance of Power: National Security,
the Truman Administration, and the Cold War (Stanford: Stanford University
Press, 1992), pp. x–xi; see also Henry B.Ryan, The Vision of Anglo-America: The
US-UK Alliance and the Emerging Cold War, 1943–1946 (Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 1987); Ritchie Ovendale, The English-Speaking Alliance:
Britain, the United States, the Dominions and the Cold War, 1945–1951 (London:
George Allen and Unwin, 1985), pp. 3–58; John Kent, British Imperial Strategy
and the Origins of the Cold War, 1944–49 (Leicester: Leicester University Press,
1993), pp. 1–115; Peter J. Taylor, Britain and the Cold War: 1945 as Geopolitical
Transition (London: Pinter, 1990), pp. 3–30, 55–100, 121–33; cf. Daniel Yergin,
Shattered Peace: The Origins of the Cold War and the National Security State
(Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1977), pp. 11–12, 17–105, 138–62, 193–220, 343–65.
67. Cf. Leffler, Power, pp. 496–7.
68. Minute by G.L.McDermott, 26 September 1944, FO 371/44176, R15242/6206/44,
PRO.
69. Telegram by Sir M.Peterson (Angora) to FO, 13 March 1945, No. 340, FO 371/
48773, R4972/4476/44; Telegram by Sir M.Peterson (Angora) to FO, 22 March
1945, No. 377, FO 371/48773, R5 579/447 6/44; both in PRO.
70. On the June 1945 demands on Turkey, JIC (45) 289 (O) (Final), 6 October 1945,
FO 371/48775/R18280/4476/G44; on FO assessments of Russian motives,
Telegram, FO to TERMINAL for Sir A.Cadogan, 27 July 1945, ONWARD No.
242, CAB 119/86; both in PRO.
71. JIC (45) 237 (O) (Final), 31 July 1945, ‘Developments in South East Europe’; COS
(45) 191st Mtg, 3 August 1945; see also COS (45) 186th Mtg, 30 July 1945; all in
CAB 119/8 6; both in PRO.
226 THE TRANSITION TO COLD WAR
72. JPS (45) 233 (Final), 4 September 1945, CAB 84/75, PRO.
73. Washington (Mr Balfour) to FO, No. 6047, 6 September 1945, WO 106/3222, PRO.
74. See CP (45) 218, 11 October 1945, ‘Record of Conversation Between the Secretary
of State and M. Molotov on the 23rd September, 1945’, CAB 129/3, PRO.
75. See Elisabeth Barker, The British Between the Superpowers, 1945–50 (Toronto:
University of Toronto Press, 1983), pp. 31–7; see also Frank K.Roberts, ‘Ernest
Bevin as Foreign Secretary’, in Ritchie Ovendale (ed.), The Foreign Policy of the
British Labour Governments, 1945–1951 (Leicester: Leicester University Press,
1984), pp. 33–4; Alan Bullock, Ernest Bevin: Foreign Secretary, 1945–1951
(London: Heinemann, 1983), pp. 129–39, 156–9, 206–39 (which does not really
subscribe to the ‘First Cold War’ idea); see also Graham Ross, ‘Foreign Office
Attitudes to the Soviet Union, 1941–45’, Journal of Contemporary History 16, 3
(July 1981), pp. 522, 533, 538.
76. JIC (45) 289 (O) (Final); JIC Memorandum for Information 189, ‘Discussion of the
Reported Threat to Turkey’, 31 October 1945, frames 460–3, Reel 8, Entry 190, RG
226, NARA; see also the remarks by Maj.-Gen. Francis de Guingand in the Extract
from COS (45) 244th Mtg, 9 October 1945, FO 371/48775/R18280/4476/G44,
PRO.
77. See the FO Minutes of 30 and 31 October in FO 371/48775/R18280/44768/G44,
PRO.
78. JPS (45) 292 (Revised Final), 17 December 1945, ‘Long Term Policy in Greece’;
on prospects for US economic aid, see also telegrams Athens to FO, No. 2268, 12
November 1945, and Washington to FO, No. 7535, 10 November 1945; all in CAB
119/87, PRO.
79. Extract of COS (45) 291st Mtg, 31 December 1945, CAB 119/87, PRO.
80. See Edward Ingram, The Beginning of the Great Game in Asia, 1828–1834
(Oxford: Clarendon, 1979), pp. ix–x, 4–5, 12–18, 34, 51–2, 126–7, 180, 182, 221–
2, 328–39; V.G.Kiernan, European Empires from Conquest to Collapse, 1815–
1960 (Bath: Leicester University Press, 1982), pp. 57, 63; on intelligence, see
Atherton, Guide, pp. 8, 16–17, as well as HD 2/1, The Great Game—Meshedd, MS
by Col. C.S.Maclean, HD 3/70, and HD 3/118, all in PRO.
81. Or on the Americans—see the assessment of Persian oil potential by American
officers in Tehran cable No. 36646, 31 July 1944, Folder ‘Most Secret Cables (Not
shipping) #9’, Box 3, Entry 5, RG 226, NARA: ‘The foregoing information should
be conveyed at once to the two US companies that are interested’, although the
‘British were not informed of this [reconnaissance] trip and [had] not consented to
it. The foregoing should not be allowed to reach their ears.’
82. Cipher Telegram GO 40943, 28 October 1944, WO 106/3093, PRO.
83. Combined Intelligence Centre Iraq and Persia ‘Tribal and Political Review for the
Year 1945’, 8 April 1946, WO 208/1571, PRO; on the treaty obligations for troop
withdrawals, see also Harbutt, Iron, pp. 142–3.
84. See CICIP Weekly Intelligence Summary No. 232 for the week ending 26 July
1945, WO 208/1569, PRO.
85. CICIP Tribal and Political Intelligence Weekly Summary for the week ending 2
August 1945, WO 208/1570, PRO.
86. CICIP Tribal and Political Intelligence Weekly Summary No. 235 for the week
ending 16 August 1945, WO 208/1570, PRO.
AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON 227
87. Telegram No. 5067 from Sir A.Clark Kerr, 23 November 1945, FO 371/47858,
Nl6109/18/38, PRO.
88. Sir R. Bullard to C.W.Baxter, 26 November 1945, FO 371/45487, G.328/43/45,
PRO.
89. Minute by L.Pyram (?), 23 December 1945, and Minute by B.Gage, 3 January
1946, both in FO 371/45487, G.328/43/45; note that Murray was confirmed as US
Ambassador to Persia on 19 February 1945—see Halifax to London, telegram No.
384, 2 March 1945, FO 371/45487, E1409/530/34; all in PRO; see also Harbutt,
Iron, pp. 142–4.
90. Coral Bell, ‘The “Special Relationship”’, in Michael Leifer (ed.), Constraints and
Adjustments in British Foreign Policy (London: George Allen and Unwin, 1972),
p. 105; see also Watt, Bull, p. 89; R.B.Manderson-Jones, The Special Relationship:
Anglo-American Relations and Western European Unity, 1947–56 (London:
Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1972), pp. 130–1, 134; Hathaway, Ambiguous, p. 308;
Barker, Between, pp. 217, 308–9; Correlli Barnett, The Collapse of British Power
(London: Alan Sutton, 1984), p. 582.
91. Harbutt, Iron, p. xiv; see also David Reynolds, ‘Roosevelt, Churchill, and the
Wartime Anglo-American Alliance, 1939–1945: Towards a New Synthesis’, in
William Roger Louis and Hedley Bull (eds), The ‘Special Relationship’: Anglo-
American Relations Since 1945 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1986), pp. 19–
21, 38–41.
92. On marriage of necessity, see Reynolds, ‘Synthesis’, p. 38; see also David
Reynolds, ‘Rethinking Anglo-American relations’, International Affairs 65, 1
(Winter 1988– 1989), pp. 94, 97, 98; on the emerging British dimension of Cold
War history, see D.C.Watt, ‘Rethinking the Cold War: A Letter to a British
Historian’, Political Quarterly 49, 4 (October–December 1978), pp. 446–6.
93. This dispatch is to be found as J.Balfour for the Ambassador to Bevin, No. 1038, 9
August 1945, CAB 122/1036, and as Halifax to Bevin, No. 16898, 23 August
1945, FO 371/44557, AN 2560/22/45, PRO; see also Victor Rothwell, Britain and
the Cold War, 1941–1947 (London: Jonathan Cape, 1982), p. 148.
94. ‘Shrewd/superior power’ quotes from Minute by J.C.Donnelly, 5 September 1945,
FO 371/44557, AN 2560/22/45, PRO—on such British attitudes, see also Leon D.
Epstein, Britain—Uneasy Ally (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1954), pp. 9,
21–5, 34, and Danchev, Very, pp. 41–2; ‘heartily’ and recommendation for
circulation, Minute by P.Mason, 25 January 1946, and approval by Sir Orme
Sargent, 30 January 1946, both in FO 371/51627, AN 205/5/45, PRO.
95. Mason Minute.
96. Assumption from Bell, ‘Special’, p. 112; see also John Lewis Gaddis, ‘Intelligence,
Espionage, and Cold War Origins’, Diplomatic History 13, 2 (Spring 1989), pp.
191–212, expressing uncertainty as to when a scholarly treatment of post-war
intelligence will be possible; D.C.Watt, ‘Intelligence and the Historian: A Comment
on John Gaddis’s “Intelligence, Espionage, and Cold War Origins’”, Diplomatic
History 14, 2 (Spring 1990), pp. 199–204, suggests using policy records for
determining the impact of intelligence.
97. On the US JIC, see Larry A.Valero, ‘An Impressive Record: The American Joint
Intelligence Committee and Estimates of the Soviet Union, 1945–1947’, Studies in
Intelligence 9 (Summer 2000), pp. 65–80.
228 THE TRANSITION TO COLD WAR
98. JIS 80/2, ‘Capabilities and Intentions of the USSR in the Postwar Period’, 6
January 1945, frames 41–98, Reel 13, Entry 95, RG 226, NARA.
99. Addendum to JIS 80/2, ‘USSR Postwar Foreign Policy by Regions’, 10 January
1945, frames 144–65, Reel 13, Entry 95, RG 226, NARA.
100. JIC 250/1, ‘USSR Postwar Capabilities and Policies’, 31 January 1945, frames 4–
96; JIC 250/2, 2 February 1945, frames 127–31; both in Reel 14, Entry 95, RG
226, NARA.
101. JIS 161, ‘British Capabilities and Intentions’, 10 May 1945, frames 1454–79, Reel
1, Entry 190, RG 226, NARA.
102. JIC 250/6, ‘Soviet Capabilities’, 29 November 1945, frames 739–69, Reel 2, Entry
190, RG 226, NARA.
103. JIC 341, ‘Aims and Sequence of Soviet Political and Military Moves’, 31 January
1946, frames 739–69, Reel 2, Entry 190, RG 226, NARA.
104. JIC 342, ‘British Capabilities Versus the USSR’, 6 February 1946, frames 841–99,
Reel 2, Entry 190; cf. the dismissive R&A/Washington analysis of the JIS study
upon which this report is based in Joseph Sweeny, Acting Chief, British Unit to
Langer, 7 January 1946, Folder ‘British Empire Division’, Box 12, Entry 1; both in
RG 226, NARA.
105. JIC Memorandum for Information No. 217, ‘Russian Troop Movements in South-
East Europe and Persia’, 15 May 1946, frames 988–95, Reel 2, Entry 190, RG 226,
NARA; see also MM (S) (45) 88 (Final), ‘British Postwar Service Representation
in the United States’, Report by the Joint Staff Mission, Washington, Paragraph 10,
‘Intelligence Representation’, CAB 122/1385, PRO.
106. JIC Memorandum for Information No. 223, ‘Russia’s Strategic Interests and
Intentions in the Middle East’, 28 June 1946 (British date 14 June 1946), frames
422–45; JIC Memorandum for Information No. 224, ‘Russia’s Strategic Interests
and Intentions in the Middle East’, 12 July 1946 (British date 6 July 1946), frames
448–52; JIC Memorandum for Information No. 229, ‘Situation in South Persia’, 5
August 1946, formerly British JIC (46) 55 (O) (Final) of 7 June 1946, frames 179–
85; all in Reel 7, Entry 190, RG 226, NARA.
107. JIC 370, ‘Exchange of Intelligence Estimates and Evaluations thereof Between the
United States and the British Joint Intelligence Committees’, 25 September 1946,
frames 538–40, Reel 7, Entry 190, RG 226, NARA; see also Ranelagh, Agency, pp.
649–50, n†, detailing the American reliance on British intelligence reports
regarding Iran during 1979–80.
108. R&A on Greece in Langer to Donovan, 11 July 1944, Folder 2322, Box 155, Entry
146, RG 226, NARA.
109. SI Branch Progress Report for 1–31 December 1944, 31 December 1944, Folder 8,
Box 4, Entry 99, RG 226, NARA.
110. ETO-METO Cable Digest, 16 January 1945, citing cable #3054 London, Casey and
Gold to Maddox, 13 January 1945, Folder 41, Box 10, Entry 99, RG 226, NARA.
111. SI Branch Progress Report, for 1–29 January 1945, dated 29 January 1945, Folder
9; SI Branch Progress Report, Liaison, for 15–28 February 1945, dated 1 March
1945, Folder 10; both in Box 4, Entry 99, RG 226, NARA.
112. SI Branch Progress Report for 1–15 March 1945, dated 15 March 1945, Folder 11,
Box 5, Entry 99, RG 226, NARA.
AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON 229
113. Ibid.; SI Branch Progress Report for 1–31 March 1945, dated 2 April 1945, Folder
11; SI Branch Progress Report for 1–15 April 1945, dated 14 April 1945, Folder 12;
both in Box 5, Entry 99, RG 226, NARA.
114. SI Progress Report for 1–15 April 1945.
115. SI Branch Progress Report for 1–31 May 1945, dated 31 May 1945, Folder 13, Box
6, Entry 99, RG 226, NARA.
116. General Order 55, 2 June 1945, Folder 46, Box 3, Entry 147; Thomas V.Dunn to
Alfred McCormick, ‘Outline of American Counter-intelligence, Counter-Espionage
and Security Activities World War II’, n.d., frame 803, Reel 58, Entry 190; both in
RG 226, NARA.
117. OSS Activities Report for June 1945, Folder 128, Box 95, Entry 99, RG 226,
NARA.
118. SI Branch Progress Report for 1–30 June 1945, dated 30 June 1945, Folder 14, Box
6, Entry 99, RG 226, NARA.
119. W.J.Gold to John A.Bross, 16 July 1945, Folder 995, Box 270, Entry 190, RG 226,
NARA.
120. OSS/Washington General Order 86, 12 July 1945, Folder 76, Box 17; SI Branch
Progress Report for 1–30 July 1945, Folder 27, Box 7; both in Entry 99, RG 226,
NARA.
121. SI Branch Progress Report for 1–31 July 1945, dated 31 July 1945, Folder 27, Box
7, Entry 99, RG 226, NARA.
122. ‘Over-all and Special Programs for Strategic Services Activities Based on Great
Britain (Post-Hostilities), 13 August 1945, Document 419.22, Folder 22, Box 69C,
Donovan Papers, USAMHI.
123. SI Branch Progress Report for 1–31 August 1945, Folder 28; Cairo/Athens,
European Reports Branch Progress Report for September 1945, dated 25
September 1945, Folder 29; both in Box 7, Entry 99, RG 226, NARA.
124. Cable In 22072, London to Director OSS, 20 August 1945, Folder ‘London Paris
August 1–31 December 1945’, Box 12, Entry 6, RG 226, NARA.
125. Covering Report, OSS/Great Britain for 1–31 August 1945, dated 4 September
1945, Folder 28, Box 7, Entry 99, RG 226, NARA.
126. OSS Activities Report for August 1945, Folder 130, Box 95, Entry 99, RG 226,
NARA.
127. OSS Activities Report for September 1945, Folder 131, Box 95; see also
OSS Mission to Great Britain Progress Report, dated 4 October 1945, Folder 29,
Box 7; both in Entry 99, RG 226, NARA.
128. Cable In 22072, London to Director OSS, 20 August 1945; see also ‘Overall and
Special Programs for Strategic Services Activities Based on Great Britain (Post-
Hostilities)’, 13 August 1945.
129. Magruder to Donovan, 5 September 1945, Folder 829, Box 60, Entry 146, RG 226,
NARA.
130. Andrew and Gordievsky, KGB, pp. 370–5; Andrew, ‘Australian’, p. 227; Bryden,
Secret, pp. 267–77; such intelligence might account for the very detailed
information contained in the ‘Preliminary Outline of the Russian Intelligence
Service’, dated 18 April 1946 in frames 716–30, Reel 57, Entry 95, RG 226,
NARA; see also John Earl Haynes and Harvey Klehr, VENONA: Decoding Soviet
Espionage in America (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2000).
230 THE TRANSITION TO COLD WAR
131. OSS Mission to Great Britain Covering Report for 1–30 September 1945, dated 3
October 1945, Folder 29, Box 7, Entry 99, RG 226, NARA.
132. Cable Washington 15287, Magruder to 110 and Shuling, 4 October 1945, Folder
‘Amzon September 1 1945–20 February 1946’, Box 6, Entry 6; see also ‘Report of
Brigadier-General John Magruder, Director SSU, WD, to Assistant Secretary
Lovett on Intelligence Matters’, 26 October 1945, frames 916–51, Reel 1; SSU
General Order No. 2, 12 October 1945, frames 1071–76, Reel 27; both in Entry
190; all in RG 226, NARA.
133. Edgar M.Valk to W.J.Gold, 17 October 1945, Folder 1356, Box 293; see also Valk
to Chief, SI/Turkey, and Chief, SI/Greece, 2 May 1946, Folder 551, Box 327; both
in Entry 190, RG 226, NARA.
134. European Reports Progress Report for October 1945, Folder 2812, Box 200, Entry
146; Summary of SSU Activities for November 1945 and SI Monthly Progress
Report for the Near-Middle East, November 1945, both in Folder 2813, Box 201,
Entry 146; ‘Soviet-Turkish relations’ source from SSU Summary for December
1945, Folder 2814, Box 201, Entry 146; ETO SI Report for October 1945; ETO SI
Report for November 1945; ETO SI Report for December 1945; all in Folder 13,
Box 81, Entry 92; all in RG 226, NARA.
135. SSU/Great Britain Report for December 1945, Folder 2814, Box 201, Entry 146,
RG 226, NARA.
136. X-2 Branch Progress Report for 1–31 October 1945; Report of Activities,
Headquarters, X-2 Branch October 1945; both in Folder 2812, Box 200, Entry 146,
RG 226, NARA.
137. See Magruder letters to G-2, A-2, and Naval Intelligence, 7 December 1945, and the
various responses, frames 1122–7, and Maj.-Gen. Clayton Bissell to Magruder, 20
December 1945, frame 1136, all in Reel 29, Entry 190, RG 226, NARA.
138. Bissell to Magruder, 18 December 1945, with Secretary of War to Magruder, 18
December 1945, frames 1127–8, Reel 29, Entry 190, RG 226, NARA.
139. Magruder to Bissell, 19 December 1945, frames 1129–30, Reel 29, Entry 190, RG
226, NARA.
140. See Magruder to Bissell, 29 December 1945, and Rear-Adm. T.B.Inglis to
Magruder, 2 January 1946, frames 1140, 1145, Reel 29, Entry 190, RG 226, NARA.
141. Magruder to Bissell, 9 January 1946, frame 705, and Magruder to ACoS G-2, 12
January 1946, frame 706, both in Reel 57, Entry 95, RG 226, NARA.
142. Bissell to Magruder, 24 January 1946, frame 709, Reel 57, Entry 95, RG 226,
NARA.
143. ‘British Personnel in Meshed and Notes on British Intelligence’, 7 June 1945,
frames 0000–0001, Reel 1, Entry 153A, RG 226, NARA.
144. ‘Conference at GHQ Middle East, 11 June 1946, Annex to talk by BGS(I) on The
Intelligence Problem in the Middle East’, WO 193/998; see also COS (45) 200th Mtg,
17 August 1945, Minute 7, ‘Organisation of Post War Signal Intelligence’, CAB
79/37; both in PRO; Alan Stripp, ‘Breaking Japanese Codes’, Intelligence and
National Security 2, 4 (October 1987), pp. 141–2, and Alan Stripp, Codebreaker in
the Far East (London: Frank Cass, 1989), pp. 50–6 on post-war work against low-
grade Persian diplomatic ciphers; see also Andy Thomas, ‘British Signals
Intelligence After the Second World War’, Intelligence and National Security 3, 4
(October 1988), pp. 103–10; on later GCHQ work on Russia, see Richard Aldrich
and Michael Coleman, The Cold War, the JIC and British Signals Intelligence,
AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON 231
1948’, Intelligence and National Security 4, 3 (July 1989), pp. 535–49; see
B.F.Smith, Stalin, p. 254.
145. Edgar M.Valk to Philip Mosely, 8 January 1946, Folder 553, Box 327, Entry 190,
RG 226, NARA.
146. James S.Kaylor to Ambassador Winant, 7 January 1946, Folder 553, Box 327,
Entry 190; for numerous examples of such reports on Turkey, Greece, and Persia
forwarded by SSU from British sources, see frames 453–4, 475, Reel 1; frames
334–54, 408–9, 535, Reel 2; frames 257, 461–5, 621–2, Reel 3; all in Entry 153A;
all in RG 226, NARA.
147. Edgar M.Valk to Cabot Coville, 11 January 1946; James S.Kaylor to Ambassador
Winant, 12 January 1946; Folder 553, Box 327, Entry 190, RG 226, NARA.
148. Edgar M.Valk to Lester C.Houck, 8 February 1946, Folder 553, Box 327, Entry
190, RG 226, NARA.
149. SSU ETO Report for March 1946, Folder 2817, Box 201, Entry 146; ‘liberal’ quote
from Edgar M.Valk to Chief, SI/Berne, 14 March 1946, Folder 552, Box 327, Entry
190; both in RG 226, NARA.
150. Secretariat to Director, 29 April 1946, Folder 2817, Box 201, Entry 146, RG 226,
NARA; on X-2’s link in Russia, this was stated by X-2’s Mr Blum before the SSU
Fact Finding Board on 20 February 1946; see the Minutes of the Board, frame
1037, Reel 1, Entry 190, RG 226, NARA; Blum also stated that X-2 had not run
any agents in Russia during the war itself.
151. SSU ETO Progress Report for May 1946, Folder 13, Box 81, Entry 92, RG 226,
NARA.
152. Foreign Reports London Desk Report for July 1946, Folder 6, Box 80, Entry 92,
RG 226, NARA.
153. Donald M.Greer to Lester C.Houck, Monthly Evaluation Report, 12 September
1946; on Persia and Turkey, Middle East Station Report for August 1946, dated 4
September 1946; both in Folder 4, Box 80, Entry 92, RG 226, NARA.
154. Open Memorandum by Beurt SerVaas [sic], 18 March 1946, frames 712–15, Reel
57, Entry 95, RG 226, NARA.
155. Harbutt, Iron, pp. 151–208; see also Richard Pfau, ‘Containment in Iran, 1946: The
Shift to an Active Policy’, Diplomatic History 1, 4 (Fall 1977), pp. 359–72;
Stephen L. McFarland, ‘A Peripheral View of the Origins of the Cold War: The
Crisis in Iran, 1941–47’, Diplomatic History 4, 4 (Fall 1980), pp. 333–51.
156. Harbutt, Iron, pp. 164, 169, 172–82, 209–66; cf. Walker, ‘Beginnings’, pp. 95–
101; D.Cameron Watt, ‘Britain, the United States, and the Opening of the Cold
War’, in Ovendale (ed.), Labour, pp. 43–60.
157. Kuniholm, Near, pp. xv–xxi; see Richard J.Aldrich (ed.) British Intelligence,
Strategy and the Cold War 1945–51 (London: Routledge, 1992), and the review by
David Stafford, Intelligence and National Security 9, 1 (January 1994), pp. 164–5;
see also B.F.Smith, Ultra-Magic, pp. 221–7 on SIGINT ties in the 1945–46 period,
and for the suggestion that general Anglo-American intelligence exchanges dated
from after August 1946 between the British Joint Intelligence Board and the US
Central Intelligence Group (see below on CIG).
158. Harbutt, Iron, pp. 268–71.
159. ‘Sounder’, Minute by Williams, 16 May 1946; ‘fully alive’, telegram by Mr Helm,
16 May 1946; ‘looking up’, Minute by illegible, 16 May 1946; all in FO 371/59312,
232 THE TRANSITION TO COLD WAR
R7311/7311/44, PRO; not that American economic aid for Britain was particularly
forthcoming—see Woods, Changing, pp. 397–407.
160. Yergin, Shattered, pp. 17–41, 138–62, 200–1, 219, 270–1; see also Howard Jones
and Randall B.Woods, ‘Origins of the Cold War in Europe and the Near East:
Recent Historiography and the National Security Imperative’, Diplomatic History
17, 2 (Spring 1993), pp. 25–76; cf. Bradley F.Smith, ‘An Idiosyncratic View of
Where we Stand on the History of American Intelligence in the Early post-1945
Era’, Intelligence and National Security 3, 4 (October 1988), pp. 111–23; see also
Robert L.Messer, ‘Paths Not Taken: The United States Department of State and
Alternatives to Containment, 1945–1946’, Diplomatic History 1, 4 (Fall 1977), pp.
297–319; Burton Hersh, The Old Boys: The American Elite and the Origins of the
CIA (New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1992), pp. 176, 454, and the review by
Nelson MacPherson in Intelligence and National Security 8, 2 (April 1993), pp.
272–4.
161. See Leffler, Power, pp. 3–140, 497, 499, 502.
162. Memorandum to the Secretary of War, ‘Preliminary Report of Committee
Appointed to Study War Department Intelligence Activities’, 3 November 1945,
frames 1001–1008, Reel 1, Entry 190, RG 226, NARA.
163. On the Bureau of the Budget/State Department plan, see Troy, Donovan, pp. 325–9.
164. Ibid., pp. 339–40; quote from Montague MS, ‘Smith’, p. 50.
165. Troy, Donovan, pp. 340–9; Montague MS, ‘Smith’, pp. 50–2.
166. Troy, Donovan, p. 358; cf. B.F.Smith, Ultra-Magic, pp. 225, 227 on CIG and
intelligence exchanges with the British JIB.
167. Troy, Donovan, pp. 359–410; see also Jansen and Jeffreys-Jones, ‘Gang’, pp. 130–
42; cf. David F.Rudgers, Creating the Secret State: The Origins of the Central
Intelligence Agency, 1943–1947 (Lawrence: University Press of Kansas, 2000).
Conclusion
R&A alumnus Gordon Craig noted in 1991 that during his entire time in OSS, he
‘never knew what was going on’ within the organization.1 This observation
unwittingly substantiated William Casey’s experience of being told in September
1943 that OSS was ‘a mess in London. Good people, but no one knows what
anybody else is doing.’2 Given the wide variety of OSS/London activities
surveyed in the preceding chapters, it is easy to understand how individual OSS
members knew little beyond their immediate surroundings. The wide-ranging
scope of OSS/London’s war made the workings of other branches a mystery, and
the complete story of the mission beyond any one man’s comprehension.
Whatever its claims to centralization and coordination, no one individual ever
really appreciated the full measure of OSS/London’s activities, nor the complete
significance of its relationship with British intelligence. This study, with the
benefit of agency-wide archival sources, therefore offers an unprecedented
examination of developments within OSS/London, and insights into the worth of
modern intelligence work. OSS/London’s development, and its partnership with
British intelligence, moreover reveal an inner mechanism of the larger Anglo-
American relationship, itself based on necessity, and firmly grounded in
pragmatism. This evolving primacy of professionalism was perhaps the most
important legacy of wartime Anglo-American intelligence for the post-war world.
The fruits of intelligence collaboration thus gave the post-1945 North Atlantic
alliance a foundation based on recognizing intelligence as a proverbial sine qua
non of power politics. It did not lead to a US ‘National Security State’, nor to
America imposing ‘ties that bind’ on its much weaker intelligence colleagues.3 It
instead helped America accept the anarchical society’s dictates, and gave Britain
more status in the alliance than otherwise likely.4
OSS/London was first and foremost shaped by the British intelligence
establishment. Britain admittedly exploited intelligence links through William
Stephenson’s BSC to influence American perceptions of how America might aid
Britain short of war. With William Donovan as their mark, the British
Admiralty’s Naval Intelligence Division combined with BSC to help mobilize a
formal, distinct American intelligence service with the Coordinator of
Information. From then on, however, the development of American intelligence
in London was subject less to the machinations of British officials than to the
234 CONCLUSION
importance of fitting within the context of military primacy. When given the
opportunity to do just that, R&A simply allowed its intellectual pretensions to
get in the way. This was clearly demonstrated by EOU when it tried to
manipulate the military leaders it was supposed to serve, all in pursuit of a
military objective steeped more in intellectual arrogance than in empirical fact.
Its rigid adherence to a ‘Party Line’ that wilfully ignored certain disappointing
operational realities nullified the application of scholarly analysis to operational
policy since the facts were defined by the desired end, not the other way around.
R&A’s unwillingness to lower itself to perform mundane intelligence processing
likewise subordinated empiricism to dilettantism in SIRA, and so rendered R&A
superfluous to OSS/London’s increasingly professional intelligence work.6
Professionalism also marked SI’s German penetration, and X-2’s partnership
with MI6(V) in counter-intelligence. William Casey successfully mobilized OSS/
London’s assets over a surprisingly brief period to achieve an independent
espionage effort against Germany in support of the military. The military’s
enthusiasm for this operation, and their reliance on the intelligence produced,
both testify to OSS/London’s coming of age in the operational realm and the
extent to which OSS/London had matured from its early days as an intelligence
conduit. X-2 also demonstrated its capacity for rapidly developing a strong CI
capability in tandem with the British culminating with a central role in SHAEF’s
CI War Room. While distanced from the rest of OSS/London by the usual, but in
this case more understandable, functional fragmentation typifying the Anglo-
American intelligence community, X-2’s experiences nevertheless showed its
evolution from the status of neophyte to full partner. The close ties between OSS/
London’s Morale Operations and British psychological warfare conversely made
MO vulnerable to the inherent weaknesses and poor potential of propaganda
during the war.
With war’s end, OSS/London was reduced to an intelligence-CI rump as SSU/
Great Britain. The experienced, professional service that had grown over the
previous four years was demobilized with unseemly haste. This professionalism
was not matched by the US government’s appreciation for its relevance to
American foreign policy, however, and the link with British intelligence at this
juncture again proved critical. By virtue of the Anglo-American intelligence
relationship which had evolved throughout the war, SSU’s SI and X-2 branches
provided an ideal channel for British intelligence reports on the growing Soviet
threat to the post-war order. The necessity of American help for Britain took
precedence over any sentimentality in the transition to Cold War, and the ensuing
North Atlantic alliance was conceived at least in part through the hard
intelligence facts given to SSU by SIS. The intelligence dimension of the Anglo-
American partnership that started with COI/London in 1941, and which had
flourished in wartime, was preserved to fight another day in the period leading
up to the CIA’s creation, and America’s dominant role in cold war intelligence.
The British connection’s significance to American intelligence is clear. US
intelligence was not shaped by any Machiavellian manipulation by SIS and SOE,
236 CONCLUSION
links with SSU. What counted most here was the fact that Britain needed
America as an ally for Britain’s self-preservation, and this held equally true in
the intelligence realm. Competitive cooperation was mitigated by common
sense.
OSS/London’s experience thus bears out the dictum by Andrew and Dilks
concerning the gradual professionalization of intelligence services, and the
gradual way in which policy-makers and leaders have learned to use them. OSS/
London’s evolution toward professionalism, and the experience of America’s
military and political leaders in learning to appreciate the capabilities of OSS/
SSU, are both evident.11 So is the extent to which both of these phenomena were
influenced by the intelligence relationship with Britain. British intelligence did
not tutor American neophytes. Intelligence was instead treated as yet another
element of an Anglo-American necessary relationship, a factor in modern
warfare and statecraft that could not be ignored or trifled with. Once reconciled
to this reality, the British sought to realize a functioning partnership. Britain thus
invited the creation of a viable, modern US intelligence capacity, just as it invited
America’s participation in the Second World War, and just as it invited
American leadership of the post-war North Atlantic alliance. Pretensions to
independent British actions simply could not stand up to harsh realities after
Dunkirk, periodic spasms of resentment notwithstanding. OSS/London therefore
did not simply learn intelligence tradecraft from its British colleagues. More
importantly, and perhaps subliminally, it learned about the role of the Great Game
in the world of Great Power politics, and about the realities incumbent to
America being a Great Power. As America in fact vaulted to the status of
superpower, Britain was in a very real sense able to preserve a degree of
importance in the emerging North Atlantic alliance that belied its comparatively
pathetic resources. The renowned German historian Leopold von Ranke placed
considerable emphasis on power relationships between nation-states, and defined
the essence of diplomacy as divining the nature of the international balance of
power, and through that judgement safeguard the national interest.12 In what
Martin Wight has called a ‘shadow diplomacy’, intelligence is essential to such
judgements, with raison d’état justifying its actions in defence of the public
interest.13 The existence of a strong, tested Anglo-American intelligence
relationship thus did not impose British subordination on America (that was
already a given). It instead provided Britain with a basis from which it could
exercise a degree of influence its material resources could not possibly ensure.14
The manner in which Britain exploited its intelligence relationship with America
during 1945–46 certainly confirms this.
As a case-study of the evolution toward professional intelligence, OSS/
London also reveals some aspects significant to intelligence theory.15 In terms of
the relationship with policy makers, the relative success of SI and SO in
comparison with R&A suggests that intelligence entities are best employed by
serving the basic information needs of their consumers. As suggested by R&A’s
own Crane Brinton, by so providing the basics of shadow diplomacy, or shadow
AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON 239
military strategy, intelligence services can truly influence policy with reliable
information. Supplying short-range estimates or tactical intelligence thereby
establishes the essential utility of intelligence in response to immediate consumer
needs through delivering the significant hard facts needed to formulate and
execute policy.16 Neither SHAEF nor the American armies in Europe quarrelled
with the content of SI intelligence, or denigrated the utility of SO’s coordination
of resistance forces with military operations, or resisted taking heed of X-2’s CI
information. Intelligence is more likely to become compromised when, as in the
case of EOU, supplying information is subordinated to the intelligence service’s
own agenda. OSS/London’s experiences overall suggest that intelligence is a
‘demandside’ activity, not a ‘supply-side’ one. In other words, intelligence
services only flourish when they can meet specific, existing needs. Any attempt
to rely on the usefulness of the intelligence product to be self-evident, and to be
automatically recognized as such by decision-makers, is futile.17
As for the question of coordinating intelligence services, and the efficacy of
centralization, OSS/London provides some interesting evidence. The ostensible
centralization of OSS, long considered its main innovation, was a myth. OSS/
London’s branches never demonstrated any of the supposed advantages of its
organization before William Casey’s penetration of Germany. Until that
operation, each branch had established a closer relationship with its functionally
similar British counterpart than with other OSS branches. The closest OSS/
London came to realizing its innovation was after Casey prodded it to mobilize
its assets to penetrate Germany. That was the only significant instance where
OSS/London realized the ideal of combining various branches and resources to a
common goal. As such, that operation accomplished much more than its
fragmented British counterparts could with their system of separate services.
Combined with the lack of substantive direction from William Donovan, the
reality of separate, rival British services shaped how OSS/London’s own
branches developed. Facing the pressure to get operational, most of OSS/London’s
branches threw themselves into establishing partnerships with the British
services, and thereby replicated their fragmentation. This was inevitable, and
ultimately for the best if the resulting professionalization is balanced against the
probability that a steadfastly centralized, but isolated, OSS/London would have
accom plished very little of consequence to justify an administrative innovation.
Indeed, the various Anglo-American partnerships between like services (SI-SIS;
SO-SOE; X-2-MI6[V]) each demonstrated a strong degree of functional,
horizontal integration within an alliance that far outweighed manipulation or
dominance by a single nation, thereby laying a more convincing foundation for
any post-war ‘ties that bind’.18 It was also the main reason why Donovan’s
centralization was more ambitious than practical at this stage of development.
Functionalism thus outweighed centralization in the Anglo-American
intelligence partnership in London, and it is difficult to conceive of how it might
have been different.
240 CONCLUSION
NOTES
14. Verrier, Looking Glass; see Richelson and Ball, Ties; on the Cold War in general,
see John Lewis Gaddis, The Long Peace: Inquiries into the History of the Cold
War (New York: Oxford University Press, 1987).
15. See Chapter 1 above, p.9.
16. See also Handel, ‘Politics’, p. 9.
17. See Berkowitz and Goodman, Strategic, pp. 109, 136, 173–7; Strong, Men, p. 168.
18. See Richelson and Ball, Ties.
19. Jeffreys-Jones, CIA, pp. 248, 250.
20. This is broadly recognized in Reynolds, ‘Synthesis’, pp. 38–41; see also Reynolds,
‘Rethinking’, pp. 94, 97–8; Hathaway, Ambiguous, p. 308.
21. See MacPherson, ‘Conference’, p. 515; cf. Gaddis, ‘Intelligence’, pp. 191–212.
22. On the context of the international system and state requirements for intelligence,
see Roger Hilsman, ‘International Environment, the State, and Intelligence’, in
Maurer, Tunstall, and Keagle (eds), Intelligence, pp. 19–27; cf. B.F.Smith,
‘Idiosyncratic’, pp. 121–2, and Jeffreys-Jones, Espionage, pp. 172–7.
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E.
Book Reviews and Review Articles
F.
Published Archival Guide
G.
Unpublished Dissertation
267
268 AMERICAN INTELLIGENCE IN WAR-TIME LONDON
CIA (Central Intelligence Agency) 2, 119, FIS (Foreign Information Service) 105
246, 262–4 Fleming, Commander Ian 47
CIG (Central Intelligence Group) 246 FN (Foreign Nationalities) 110
Clay, General Lucius 241 FNCL (French Committee of National
Coffin, Robert 118 Liberation) 81–2
Cohen, Commander Kenneth 162 Foord, Colonel 161
COI (Coordinator of Information) 47–55, FORD (Foreign Office Research
104, 205, 261, 263 Department) 103
Cold War: Forgan, Colonel J.R. 167, 172, 174–5
origins 226, 228, 233, 244–5; FRPS (Foreign Research Press Service)
perceptions 223–38, 244–7, 265 103, 105, 107–8, 264
Cowgill, Felix 194
Craig, Gordon 260 Gallene, Major 161–3
CROSS 166–7, 179 Gambier-Perry, Colonel R. 80
GC&CS (Government Code and Cipher
Dansey, Claude 57, 77 School) 24–5, 102
death ray experts 203 GCHQ (Government Communications
Deutsch, Harold 112–13, 145 Headquarters) 24, 88, 192, 202, 217, 243
Devers, General J.L. 57–8, 63, 74, 77 German Army:
DIP (Division of Intelligence Procurement) 84th Infantry Division 180;
172–5, 179, 181 116th Panzer Division 180;
Dodds-Parker, Douglas 8 Panzer Lehr Division 84
Donovan, Major General William 45–50, GIS (German Intelligence Services) 190–1,
52–7, 59, 62, 73–7, 104, 116, 118, 147– 194, 197–8, 202–3, 222
9, 163, 167, 170, 193, 216–21, 246, 261, Goddard, Dewitt 174
263, 267–8 Godfrey, Rear-Admiral John 47–8
Dorr, Russell 130–1 Gubbins, Major-General Colin 74
DOUBLE CROSS 190–2, 194, 221
Hambro, Sir Charles 72, 74
Eden, Anthony 31, 33–5 Hankey, Lord 21, 101
Eisenhower, General Dwight 74, 81–2, Harris, Marshal of the RAF Sir Arthur 127,
133, 135 134, 137, 139–40, 144
Ellis, Dick 47, 54, 72 Harwood, Major Aubrey 161, 163
Englandspiel 30, 37 Hoover, J.Edgar 218
EOU (Enemy Objectives Unit) 108, 125, Horton, Phil 148
131–45, 149, 262, 264, 267; Hughes, Colonel Richard 130, 134, 141
‘Party Line’ 131–2, 139–40, 143–4, Hull, Cordell 224
262, 264
Evans, Allan 60, 106–8, 112, 148 Intelligence:
Evill, Sir Douglas 218 historiography 6–9;
EWD (Economic Warfare Division) 131 professionalism 3, 260, 262, 266;
schools of scholarship 2–3, 5;
FBI (Federal Bureau of Investigation) 53, theory 2–3, 9, 267
194, 218 Ismay, Major-General Sir Hastings 20–2,
Fellner, R.J. 51–2 28–9, 31, 50–1
Field Detachments 81, 83–7, 171, 175, ISOS (Intelligence Service Oliver
181, 197, 203, 222 Strachey) see MSS
INDEX 269
VENONA 240
VICTOR 80, 84
W Board 191
WARWICK/COVENTRY 241–2
White, Colonel Dick 201
Whitney, William 50–2
Williams, Brigadier E.T. 85, 176
Wilson, John 110, 130
Wiseman, William 62–3, 261