[Spooks] Before the CIA, There Was the Pond
Al Fansome
al_fansome at hotmail.com
Thu Jul 29 12:15:38 EDT 2010
July 29, 2010
AP IMPACT: Before the CIA, There Was the Pond
By THE ASSOCIATED PRESS
Filed at 10:39 a.m. ET
NEW YORK (AP) -- It was a night in early November during the infancy of
the Cold War when the anti-communist dissidents were hustled through a
garden and across a gully to a vehicle on a dark, deserted road in
Budapest. They hid in four large crates for their perilous journey.
Four roadblocks stood between them and freedom.
What Zoltan Pfeiffer, a top political figure opposed to Soviet
occupation, his wife and 5-year-old daughter did not know as they were
whisked out of Hungary in 1947 was that their driver, James McCargar,
was a covert agent for one of America's most secretive espionage
agencies, known simply as the Pond.
Created during World War II as a purely U.S. operation free of the
perceived taint of European allies, the Pond existed for 13 years and
was shrouded in secrecy for more than 50 years. It used sources that
ranged from Nazi officials to Stalinists and, at one point, a French
serial killer.
It operated under the cover of multinational corporations, including
American Express, Chase National Bank and Philips, the Dutch-based
electronic giant. One of its top agents was a female American
journalist.
Now the world can finally get a deeper look at the long-hidden roots of
American espionage as tens of thousands of once-secret documents found
in locked safes and filing cabinets in a barn near Culpeper, Va., in
2001 have finally become public after a long security review by the Central Intelligence Agency.
The papers, which the Pond's leader tried to keep secret long after the organization was dissolved, were placed in the National Archives
in College Park, Md., in 2008 but only opened to the public in April.
Those records plus documents obtained by The Associated Press in the
past two years from the FBI, CIA and other agencies under the Freedom of
Information Act portray a sophisticated organization obsessed with
secrecy that operated a network of 40 chief agents and more than 600
sources in 32 countries. The AP has also interviewed former officials,
family members, historians and archivists.
The Pond, designed to be relatively small and operate out of the
limelight, appeared to score some definite successes, but rivals
questioned its sources and ultimately, it became discredited because its
pugnacious leader was too cozy with Sen. Joseph McCarthy and other
radical anti-communists.
The documents also highlight issues still relevant today: the rivalry
among U.S. intelligence agencies that have grown to number 16, the
government's questionable use of off-the-books operations with budgets
hidden from congressional oversight, and the reliance on contractors to
undertake sensitive national security work.
Created by U.S. military intelligence as a counterweight to the Office
of Strategic Services, the forerunner of the CIA, it functioned as a
semiautonomous agency for the State Department after World War II and
ended its days as a contractor for the CIA with links to J. Edgar Hoover's FBI.
The organization counted among its exploits an attempt to negotiate the surrender of Germany with Hermann Goering, one of Adolf Hitler's
top military leaders, more than six months before the war ended; an
effort to enlist mobster Charles ''Lucky'' Luciano in a plot to
assassinate Italian dictator Benito Mussolini;
identifying the location of the German heavy water plants doing atomic
research in Norway; and providing advance information on Russia's first
atomic bomb explosion.
There were other tangible successes, such as planting a high-level mole
in the Soviet secret police and, in a major operation code-named
''Empire State,'' the Pond paid a group of dissidents behind the Iron
Curtain with CIA funds to obtain cryptographic systems to break coded
messages from Moscow.
But it was Pfeiffer's successful escape that was among the most
high-profile operations, garnering headlines, although the Pond's role
was kept secret for years.
McCargar, a State Department official who secretly was the Pond's agent
in Budapest, had been ordered to find a way to get Pfeiffer and his
family out of the country. The Hungarian was the leader of a small but
increasingly popular anti-communist party that had made gains in August
elections, and he had begun to get death threats.
McCargar coordinated the escape with the help of fellow State Department
employee Edmund Price, also identified in the papers as working for the
Pond. But it was McCargar, armed with a pistol, who drove them from
Budapest, past four road blocks. At one, a Russian guard asked to see
what was in the four crates. McCargar bribed him with cigarettes.
They arrived in Vienna, a hotbed of international intrigue, where the
U.S. shared control with their allies, the French and the British, as
well as the Soviets. Against this politically fraught backdrop, Pfeiffer
and his family were taken to an airfield and spirited away to Frankfurt
and on to New York. They arrived in the U.S. on Nov. 12 as heroes of
the anti-communist opposition.
One of the escapees, Pfeiffer's daughter, Madeline, told the AP she
remembered sitting between her mother's legs in one crate and that she
was given sleeping pills to keep her quiet.
''It is strange to realize that I have lived though this, and that my
parents lived through this,'' said Madeline Pfeiffer, 67, now living in
San Francisco. On the 50th anniversary of their flight from Hungary, she
said she sent McCargar a bottle of cognac -- what he and her parents
drank after escaping. Two other dissidents were taken out with them.
The head of the Pond was Col. John V. Grombach, a radio producer,
businessman and ex-Olympic boxer who kept a small black poodle under his
desk. He attended West Point, but didn't graduate with his class because he had too many demerits, according to a U.S. Army
document. His nickname was ''Frenchy,'' because his father was a
Frenchman, who worked in the French Consulate in New Orleans.
The War Department had tapped Grombach to create the secret intelligence
branch in 1942 as a foundation for a permanent spy service. Grombach
said the main objectives were security and secrecy, unlike the OSS,
which he said had been infiltrated by allies and subversives. It was
first known as the Special Service Branch, then as the Special Service
Section and finally as the Coverage and Indoctrination Branch.
To the few even aware of its existence, the intelligence network was
known by its arcane name, the Pond. Its leaders referred to the G-2
military intelligence agency as the ''Lake,'' the CIA, which was formed
later, was the ''Bay,'' and the State Department was the ''Zoo.''
Grombach's organization engaged in cryptography, political espionage and
covert operations. It had clandestine officers in Budapest, London,
Lisbon, Madrid, Stockholm, Bombay, Istanbul and elsewhere.
Grombach directed his far-flung operations from an office at the
Steinway Hall building in New York, where he worked under the cover of a
public relations consultant for Philips. His combative character had
earned him a reputation as an opportunist who would ''cut the throat of
anyone standing in his way,'' according to a document in his Army intelligence dossier.
In defining the Pond's role, Grombach maintained that the covert network
sought indirect intelligence from people holding regular jobs in both
hostile countries and allied nations -- not unlike the Russian spies
uncovered in June in the U.S. while living in suburbia and working at
newspapers or universities.
The Pond, he wrote in a declassified document put in the National
Archives, had a mission ''to collect important secret intelligence via
many international companies, societies, religious organizations and
business and professional men who were willing to cooperate with the
U.S. but who would not work with the OSS because it was necessarily
integrated with British and French Intelligence and infiltrated by
Communists and Russians.''
On April 15, 1953, Grombach wrote that the idea behind his network was
to use ''observers'' who would build long-term relationships and produce
far more valuable information than spies who bought secrets.
''Information was to be rarely, if ever, bought, and there were to be no
paid professional operators; as it later turned out some of the
personnel not only paid their own expenses but actually advanced money
for the organization's purposes.''
The CIA, for its part, didn't think much of the Pond. It concluded that
the organization was uncooperative, especially since the outfit refused
to divulge its sources, complicating efforts to evaluate their reports.
In an August 1952 letter giving notice that the CIA intended to
terminate the contract, agency chief Gen. Walter Bedell Smith wrote that
''our analysis of the reports provided by this organization has
convinced us that its unevaluated product is not worth the cost.'' It
took until 1955 to completely unwind the relationship.
Mark Stout, a former intelligence officer and historian for the
International Spy Museum in Washington, analyzed the newly released
papers and said it isn't clear how important the Pond was to U.S.
intelligence-gathering as a whole. ''But they were making some real
contributions,'' he said.
Matthew Aid, an intelligence historian and author of ''The Secret Sentry: The Untold History of the National Security Agency''
who has reviewed some of the collection, said there was no evidence the
Pond's reports made their way to decision-makers. ''I'm still not
convinced that Grombach's organization was a worthwhile endeavor in
World War II and even less so when it went off the books,'' he said.
What it may have lacked in quality and influence, however, the Pond certainly made up with chutzpah.
One of the outfit's most unusual informers was a French serial killer named Marcel Petiot, Grombach wrote in a 1980 book.
The Secret Intelligence Branch, as he referred to the Pond, began
receiving reports from Petiot during the war. He was a physician in
Paris who regularly treated refugees, businessmen and Gestapo agents,
but he also had a predilection for killing mostly wealthy Jews and
burning their bodies in a basement furnace in his soundproofed house. He
was convicted of 26 murders and guillotined in 1946.
Nevertheless, Grombach considered him a valuable informer because of his contacts.
One cable discovered among the newly released papers appears to confirm
the Pond was tracking Petiot's whereabouts. In the undated memo, the
writer says Petiot was drawn by a Gestapo agent ''into a trap to be
arrested by the Germans.'' Petiot was briefly arrested in 1943 by the
Gestapo.
Such sources were often feeding their reports to top operatives -- often
businessmen or members of opposition groups. But there were also
journalists in the spy ring.
Ruth Fischer, code-named ''Alice Miller,'' was considered a key Pond
agent for eight years, working under her cover as a correspondent,
including for the North American Newspaper Alliance. She had been a
leader of Germany's prewar Communist Party and was valuable to the Pond
in the early years of the Cold War, pooling intelligence from
Stalinists, Marxists and socialists in Europe, Africa and China,
according to the newly released documents.
But it was the help from businesses in wartime that was essential to penetrating Axis territories.
The Philips companies, including their U.S. division, gave the Pond
money, contacts, radio technology and supported Grombach's business
cover in New York. Philips spokesman Arent Jan Hesselink said the
company had business contacts with Grombach between 1937 and 1970. He
added that they could not ''rule out that there was contact between
Philips and Grombach with the intention of furthering central U.S.
intelligence during the war.''
The Pond laid the groundwork and devised a detailed postwar plan to
integrate its activities into the U.S. Rubber Co.'s business operations
in 93 countries. It is unknown if the plan was ever carried out. The
Pond also worked with the American Express Co., Remington Rand, Inc. and
Chase National Bank, according to documents at the National Archives.
American Express spokeswoman Caitlin Lowie said a search of company
archives revealed no evidence of a relationship with Grombach's
organization. Representatives of the other companies or their successors
did not respond to requests for comment.
The Pond directed its resources for domestic political ends, as well.
In the 1950s, Grombach began furnishing names to McCarthy on supposed
security risks in the U.S. intelligence community. By then, the Pond was
a CIA contractor, existing as a quasi-private company, and the agency's
leadership was enraged by Grombach's actions. It wasn't long before the
Pond's contract was terminated and the organization largely ceased to
exist.
The CIA withheld thousands of pages from the National Archives
collection of Grombach papers, including eight rolls of documents on
microfilm; the National Security Agency kept back devices used to send
coded messages. The CIA also declined a Freedom of Information Act
request by the AP detailing its relationship to the Pond, which the AP
has appealed.
Grombach wrote to the Hoover Institution Archives at Stanford University,
dated June 10, 1977, indicating most of his classified papers would go
to the American Security Council Foundation, an anti-communist group
that works on national security policy. Grombach died in 1982.
Henry A. Fischer, the council's executive director, said safes at the
683-acre Longea Estate -- site of the council's former Freedom Studies
Center -- were mistakenly removed by contractors hired to transfer the
contents of its Boston, Va., library. He said he had been told by staff
of the error when FBI agents were called to examine them. ''I have no
idea what they were going to do with them.''
FBI historian John Fox said only one safe was removed from the property
by the contractors and drilled open, its contents turned over to the
CIA, which informed the bureau about the discovery in December 2001. Fox
said the FBI recovered four other safes from the council and took them
to Quantico to be opened. After an investigation, Fox said the remaining
documents were transferred to the CIA.
----
Associated Press writer Toby Sterling in Amsterdam contributed to this report.
----
Online:
National Archives Research Catalog: http://www.archives.gov/research/arc/
CIA ''Pond'' article: http://bit.ly/cx5VIX
John Grombach obit, see p. 132: http://bit.ly/cOnWW5
_________________________________________________________________
The New Busy is not the old busy. Search, chat and e-mail from your inbox.
http://www.windowslive.com/campaign/thenewbusy?ocid=PID28326::T:WLMTAGL:ON:WL:en-US:WM_HMP:042010_3
More information about the Spooks
mailing list