Ike's Spies

Also by Stephen E. Ambrose

Halleck: Lincoln's Chief of Staff
(1962)

Upton and the Army
(1964)

Duty, Honor, Country: A History of West Point
(1966)

Eisenhower and Berlin, 1945: The Decision to Halt at the Elbe
(1967)

The Supreme Commander:
The War Years of General Dwight D. Eisenhower
(1970)

Crazy Horse and Custer: The Parallel Lives of Two American Warriors
(1975)

Pegasus Bridge: June 6, 1944
(1985)

Nixon, Vol. 1: The Education of a Politician, 1913–1962
(1987)

Nixon, Vol. 2: The Triumph of a Politician, 1962–1972
(1989)

Eisenhower: Soldier and President
(1990)

Nixon, Vol. 3: Ruin and Recovery, 1973–1990
(1991)

Band of Brothers: E Company, 506th Regiment, 101st Airborne from
Normandy to Hitler's Eagle's Nest
(1992)

D-Day: June 6, 1944—The Climactic Battle of World War II
(1994)

Undaunted Courage: Meriwether Lewis, Thomas Jefferson, and the Opening of the American West
(1996)

Citizen Soldiers: The U.S. Army from the Normandy Beaches to the Bulge to the Surrender of Germany—June 7, 1944–May 7, 1945
(1997)

Americans at War
(1997)

The Victors: Eisenhower and His Boys: The Men of World War II
(1998)

Comrades: Brothers, Fathers, Heroes, Sons, Pals
(1999)

Nothing Like It in the World: The Men Who Built the Transcontinental

Railroad, 1863–1869
(2000)

The Wild Blue: The Men and Boys Who Flew the B-24s Over Germany
(2001)

To America: Personal Reflections of an Historian
(2002)

This Vast Land: A Young Man's Journal of the Lewis and Clark Expedition
(2003)

Between World War I and World War II, the U.S. Government did almost no spying on anyone. Spying was not a gentleman's profession, it was thought, and anyway an isolationist America had no need for spies. Harry Truman reverted to this position immediately after World War II.

But during the war, the United States was forced to use spies. The success of the British Secret Service had impressed Dwight Eisenhower. As Supreme Commander of the Allied Forces in Europe, Ike was the beneficiary of information obtained by the cream of British society, academia, and the arts. He was also at the center of a successful deception program that fooled the Germans time after time, while simultaneously he commanded a series of covert operations that played a crucial role in the final victory.

So, when Eisenhower became President, he encouraged the growth of the CIA, which under his direction and orders grew in size, expanding the scope of its activities and becoming one of America's chief weapons in the Cold War. It helped to overthrow governments in the Middle East and Latin America, tried to do so in Central and Eastern Europe, flew spy flights over the Soviet Union and other countries, and hatched assassination plots against foreign leaders. To its critics, it was a rogue elephant, totally out of control; to its defenders, it was a vital instrument in the fight to keep the Free World free. To Ike, it was necessary.

1981

Notes

Glossary

An Essay on the Sources by Richard H. Immerman

Bibliography

Acknowledgments

STUDYING THE OFFICER
, Churchill may well have thought of how little he knew about this man to whom he was about to tell so much. Churchill had seen him in action at high-level staff conferences, knew that he was thorough, well-prepared, thoughtful, and respected by his peers. Churchill had also been told that he was immensely popular with his associates, who called him “Ike” as a mark of their affection.

Churchill realized that this Ike had Chief of Staff George C. Marshall's unlimited confidence, so much so that Marshall had just made General Dwight D. Eisenhower the commander of the American military forces in Great Britain. Marshall had indicated that he felt there was no job too big for Ike. Churchill had also been impressed when told that Eisenhower had spent five years writing speeches for Marshall's predecessor, General Douglas MacArthur, whose standards for clarity of expression and thought in written English were nearly as high as Churchill's own.

Most of all, Churchill realized that the Supreme Commander for the Anglo-American counteroffensive against Hitler would have
to be an American. That was inevitably one of the prices Britain would have to pay to keep America from turning her back on the European war and concentrating instead on Japan. Knowing that President Franklin Roosevelt stood almost in awe of General Marshall, and would certainly not buck him on a purely military assignment, and knowing Marshall's attitude toward Eisenhower, Churchill realized that this general walking toward him, suitcase in one hand, briefcase in the other, would be in command of the first Anglo-American amphibious assault since the French and Indian War.

Churchill had called Ike to him because the time had come to introduce the future Supreme Commander to the wizard war, that silent backstage battle between the British intelligentsia and the German intelligentsia that was as critical as it was unknown. This big, hearty, raw-boned, grinning Yank was a professional soldier, fifty-two years old, with nearly thirty years of active duty, but he knew almost nothing about codes or code breaking, about new weapons, or about spies, counterspies, covert actions, or any other aspect of the dark arts. His ignorance came about because the U. S. Army and the nation it defended had virtually no intelligence arm. In 1929, Secretary of War Henry L. Stimson had abolished the small code-breaking apparatus of the Army on the grounds that “gentlemen don't read each other's mail.” The intelligence branch of the Army was so small, unimportant, in fact despised, that it was widely assumed that no officer of ability ever went into it.

The man approaching the front door at Chequers was truly an innocent abroad. Waiting for him with a cigar in one hand, some documents in the other, and a smile on his face, was Churchill, who delighted in the task of introducing this naïve Yank to the labyrinth of the British Secret Service. Over in the New World they might be saying that Britain was finished, that her day was done, and Churchill knew painfully well that the British could never by themselves produce the guns or divisions in sufficient number to overcome the Germans, but—by God!—in this war of brains, the British were the best in the world, and Churchill was justifiably proud of that fact.

Ike put down his bags and in his warm, friendly, casual American fashion stuck out his hand. Churchill shook hands heartily, meanwhile looking Ike up and down. As Eisenhower removed his hat, two features stood out—his full grin, and his large, prominent
forehead. Both the grin and the bald pate seemed as wide, broad, and sunny as the Kansas prairie.

He had no middle-aged sag, either under his eyes or around his belly. Instead, he had the broad shoulders and powerful build of a star athlete (which he had been), and he carried himself lightly, almost catlike. His hands were large, his handshake firm. He looked Churchill right in the eye, not trying to avoid either his gaze or his first questions. Overall, he gave the impression of straightforwardness, strength, boundless energy, and great determination. Churchill liked him at once.

For his part, Ike was meeting Churchill privately for the first time. Churchill had the appearance and manners of a British aristocrat, while Ike was only a year or two away from having been an obscure colonel in a minuscule army. Despite the difference in their backgrounds, prestige, power, and reputation, Ike was not awestruck. He was curious about this great man who had rallied the British people to stand alone for a year against Hitler and his Nazis, and he was anxious to get along with Churchill. Together with Roosevelt, Stalin, and Hitler, the Prime Minister was one of the four best-known and most powerful men in the world. Everyone in America had seen his picture, cigar clamped between his teeth, standing over the ruins of bombed-out London, holding his first two fingers apart, high in the air, in the V-for-Victory signal. Plump, almost cherubic in the face, he could resemble a bulldog when he was determined to have his way (which was nearly all the time). His face would become a violent red when he was angry or crossed. He too had boundless energy and had therefore stuck his finger into every pie in Britain, most of all the war of wits with the Germans, which excited his imagination and limitless curiosity.