A Spy at the Heart of the Third Reich: The Extraordinary Story of Fritz Kolbe, America's Most Important Spy in World War II

by Delattre, Lucas

  Another precaution was taken to facilitate matters: He took with him a camera provided by the Americans. The device was of high quality, a Robot of German manufacture (with a capacity of sixty exposures). Rolls of film would be easier to get through the border than kilos of paper. With the colossal volume of documents that he was now handling, this solution should make his work easier (“otherwise, it was no longer possible,” Fritz was to explain a few years later). For the Americans, this method offered many advantages: Instead of sending manuscripts difficult to decipher because of his cramped handwriting, Fritz would now type his comments and photograph them.

  After Fritz left, a feeling of excitement and frenzy continued to permeate the atmosphere in the OSS offices. Dozens and dozens of Kappa messages were cabled to Washington and London daily until the end of the month. Allen Dulles gave these dispatches the name “Kapril” (a contraction of Kappa and April) to clearly distinguish them from their predecessors—a useful and necessary precaution, for some recurring subjects, such as the deliveries of Spanish tungsten to Germany, generated kilometers of cables every time.

  Washington, April 16, 1944

  On April 16, two days after Fritz’s departure for Berlin, his material reached the highest authorities in the United States. For the first time since January 10, President Roosevelt got on his desk that day a report with the Boston heading, analyzed and commented on. The OSS thought that “George Wood’s” latest visit to Bern was important enough to justify sending a “Memorandum for the President” to the White House. So much for the prejudices and doubts of the experts. A copy was also sent to Secretary of State Cordell Hull, to Army Chief of Staff George C. Marshall, to the commander in chief of the U.S. Navy, Admiral Ernest J. King, to the supreme commander in Europe, General Dwight D. Eisenhower, as well as to the highest British authorities. The document was drafted by Colonel G. Edward Buxton, one of General Donovan’s right-hand men.

  Of all that had just been revealed by “George Wood” in Bern, neither the file on Japan nor the one on Hungary went to the president; nothing of all that, but rather what Fritz told Allen Dulles sitting by the fire, spontaneously, about the atmosphere prevailing in Germany, the state of mind of the leaders of the Reich and the evolution of the feelings of ordinary people. “Eighty percent of the German people feel opposed to the Nazis and is waiting for the day of delivery,” Fritz had told his American friends, immediately adding, “yet active revolutionary action cannot be expected for the time being. Himmler controls by his spies and terrorists every one of the various police organizations and the key positions of the armed forces so thoroughly that the forces of opposition that exist even within the police do not risk a plot.” Fritz had added an observation that was very troubling to the Americans: “The communist organization and propaganda have been strengthened in the last few months. As parts of the Nazi SA and even the SS have changed over to the communists, Russia disposes of a good organization in order to control the revolution by their elements, when the situation is ripe.”

  The Allies were fond of this kind of information, because they had no way of knowing what was going on inside the country. Germany in early 1944 resembled an impenetrable fortress. Only a very few people, one of whom was Fritz Kolbe, enabled the veil to be lifted a little. Apart from him, there were Hans-Bernd Gisevius and his friends in the Abwehr, an occasional businessman, and a few boatmen who sailed on the Rhine and whom OSS agents questioned in the cafés of Basel.

  The memorandum to President Roosevelt stated, in part:

  The enclosed dispatch from Bern and the accompanying evaluation of its source should, it is believed, be brought to your attention as early as possible. This cable is the evaluation by our principal Swiss intelligence representative of two hundred enemy documents (four hundred pages) that have just come into his hands…. A cable has been sent to the author, requesting him to review it carefully to see whether he wishes, on reflection, to modify any of its language and to report here by cable immediately. It would seem that the author, thanks to the sudden receipt of more than 400 pages of material all at one moment, finds himself in a position where he can see the whole picture rather than any single part.

  The OSS then quoted at length a Kappa message written by Dulles on April 12:

  Sincerely regret that you are unable at this time to view Wood’s material as it stands without condensation and abridgement. In some 400 pages, dealing with the internal maneuvering of German diplomatic policy for the past two months, a picture of imminent doom and final downfall is presented. Into a tormented General Headquarters and a half-dead Foreign Office stream the lamentations of a score of diplomatic posts. It is a scene wherein haggard Secret Service and diplomatic agents are doing their best to cope with the defeatism and desertion of flatly defiant satellites and allies and recalcitrant neutrals…. Already Canaris has disappeared from the picture, and a conference was hastily convoked in Berlin at which efforts were made to mend the gaping holes left in the Abwehr. Unable now to fall back on his favorite means of avoiding disconcerting critics by retiring to his bed, Ribbentrop has beat a retreat to Fuschl and retains a number of his principal aides at Salzburg. The remainder of the Foreign Office is strung out all the way between Riesengebirge and the capital. Practically impossible working conditions exist in the latter, and bomb shelters are being permanently used for code work. Once messages have been deciphered, a frantic search begins to locate the specific service or minister to which each cable must be forwarded; and, when a reply is called for, another search is required to deliver this to the right place….

  The final deathbed contortions of a petrified Nazi diplomacy are pictured in these telegrams. The reader is carried from one extreme of emotion to the other, from tears to laughter, as he examines these messages and sees the cruelty exhibited by the Germans in their final swan-song of brutality toward the peoples so irrevocably and pitifully enmeshed by the Gestapo after half a decade of futile struggles, and yet at the same time also sees the absurdity of the dilemma which now confronts this diplomacy both within and without Festung Europa.

  This message was considered exceptional by the heads of the OSS, because most official analyses up to that time had concluded that the Nazis were still solidly holding onto power. On April 3, 1944, General Donovan had sent a letter to President Roosevelt characterizing the morale in the capital of the Reich in these terms: “As though they were under the influence of morphine, with no sign of collapse and yet a general despair of ever gaining the victory now.” While it seemed that the war was likely to last for a long time, Dulles’s message of April 12 for the first time suggested that the end of the tunnel might be in sight.

  On April 20, 1944, a new message from the OSS landed on President Roosevelt’s desk. He was informed that Allen Dulles was sticking with his analysis: Germany, he said, was at the end of its rope, even if nothing had yet been won by the Allies:

  The message from Switzerland (transmitted to you on 12 April 1944) ‘should not be read as indicating that the morale of the Nazi Army is nearing collapse (excepting probably the so-called Grossdeutscher, Slav and other non-German elements.)’ Nor does our Swiss representative think that any important Nazi military officials are ready and willing to let us come in through the West unopposed. He believes, rather, that fierce opposition may be given to any invasion attempt. A collapse of Germany might follow, however, a few months after the establishment of a firm toe-hold in the West. He concludes: ‘the timing of the invasion attempt may be all-important. The German people are war-weary and apathetic, and even in Nazi circles the same kind of psychological depression can be seen as appeared last August and September. Yet if they could stabilize the Russian front once more, they may catch a second wind, and put up an even stronger defense against invasion.’

  Washington/Bern, April 26, 1944

  On Wednesday, April 26, 1944, Washington sent Allen Dulles an encouraging message: “Particular felicitations for the Japanese data. The military people are most app
reciative…. Far Eastern information is the most highly desired next to any hot invasion material.” The American generals in Asia were now informed of the principal Kappa revelation concerning their theater of operations. A few days later, Colonel Alfred McCormack presented his final report on “George Wood,” overall cautious and reserved, but laudatory with respect to Japan: “They contain a certain amount of new information which, if true, is useful—notably the identification of a number of divisional commanders in Burma,” he wrote.

  On the other hand, McCormack did not think the remainder of the Kappa material was of much use: “Because of the time lag between the date of origin and date of receipt here, information that might have been of interest had either been obtained from other sources or had become stale. As is usual with diplomatic communications, a good deal of the material is second-hand information upon subjects on which firsthand information is available, or it relays expressions of opinion made for diplomatic purposes or made by people whose opinions on the particular subjects are of no great consequence.”

  At the same time, the British began to take an interest in the “George Wood” file. An investigation in London in April revealed that only 4 percent of the information supplied by Wood was false or incorrect. On May 12, 1944, David Bruce, chief of the OSS in London, transmitted to Allen Dulles “special congratulations” from his British colleagues for the material on Japan. On his own initiative, Kim Philby of MI6 had sent a copy of Fritz’s documents concerning the order of battle of Japanese troops to Alistair Denniston, the head of Bletchley Park, the agency charged with deciphering enemy messages. Denniston’s services were enthusiastic and asked for more. Soon the heads of the Army, Navy, and Air Force “all three howled for more,” as Philby was to write in his memoirs. Claude Dansey, the number-two in MI6, was absolutely furious that one of Dulles’s agents was having such success in London. But he calmed down when Philby explained that he had done everything possible to conceal the American origin of “Wood.” “Not even our own circulating sections, let alone the departments, knew that OSS were involved. They regarded it as our stuff, they were asking us for more. It seemed that the credit would be ours.” From that moment on, Dansey rubbed his hands and congratulated his young colleague (Philby was then thirty-two). Philby’s career progressed, and his reputation grew in the British intelligence community. No one knew that he was working for Moscow. Philby was later to recall fondly in his memoirs: “Our German friend proved to be an intrepid operator, and paid several more visits to Bern with his useful suitcase.”

  In Washington, as in London, they were beginning to abandon the hypothesis of a ‘trap” in the course of the spring of 1944. In the last delivery from “George Wood,” there was much information that was harmful to German interests. Dulles’s German informant was finally becoming a source worthy of belief.

  In a message sent on April 26, 1944 to one of the heads of the OSS (Whitney H. Shepardson, known as “Jackpot”), Dulles wrote:

  I appreciate danger of becoming so enamored with one’s own sources that one falls into such traps. While possibility you suggest should never be excluded my present views are:

  1. As yet no evidence of plant in material itself.

  2. Having critically examined hundreds of these documents internal and external evidence has persuaded me of their genuineness.

  3. Local intermediary is I believe above question though of course he might be fooled also.

  4. Have analyzed entire scheme under which material procured and transmitted and it is logical and feasible.

  All of foregoing while persuasive is not conclusive and agree with you on importance of continuing critical examination. So far only disturbing element has been some evidence of recklessness on Wood’s part but this is quite usual in conspirators.

  Berlin, late April 1944

  When Fritz returned to Berlin, the city was bathed in magnificent sunlight. The official forecast for the third week of April predicted “weather fit for the Führer [Führerwetter].” The capital was nearly empty, notably on Hitler’s birthday, April 20, a holiday in Nazi Germany. Goebbels’s propaganda machine poured forth factitious celebrations, overblown pronouncements, and unshakable convictions. Everything was “fanatical,” “heroic,” or “tragic.”

  Fritz was bitter, almost enraged. For the first time he felt useless. The role of spy no longer suited him. He wanted to take some action. He may well have anticipated that he would be criticized after the war for having been the agent of a foreign power. Armed resistance was much nobler, but he had just grasped that the Americans would not help him go down that path. In Bern, he had proudly presented to Allen Dulles a plan that was very dear to his heart: the creation of a “people’s militia” [Volksmiliz] assembling Germans opposed to Nazism, with himself as troop leader. He had anticipated enlisting all his friends in these shock troops. But, most important, he wanted to mobilize everyone he knew in the Social Democratic networks and those close to the old unions. The idea behind the plan was to revive the defense leagues of the Weimar Republic. In Fritz’s plan, “his” militia would be able to control a certain number of nerve centers in the capital of the Reich (the airports, and some lakes in the vicinity of Berlin, such as the Wannsee and the Schlachtensee) in support of a large-scale parachute operation carried out by the Allies. The members of the brigade were to recognize each other by an armband with the initials VM (for Volksmiliz). The network would have been mobile, Fritz having thought of distributing bicycles to its members. “We would need machine pistols, ammunition, food rations, signal flares, helmets, and bracelets with the insignia VM,” he had told Dulles. For communications, a secret code had been worked out (the password was to be George 25900). Walter Bauer’s office at Unter den Linden 28 was to be the headquarters of this small underground army.

  “What do you think, Mr. Douglas?” Fritz had asked Allen Dulles, his eyes glowing with enthusiasm. The American had not answered immediately. He had puffed on his pipe in silence, then he had quickly changed the subject. The only thing that had seemed to interest him in the whole story was the identity of the conspirators in the “people’s militia” led by Fritz Kolbe. Fritz, a little disconcerted by his proposal’s lack of effect, provided a list of his “comrades in arms”: Walter Bauer, Paul Löbe, Alfred Graf Waldersee. Allen Dulles had advised Fritz to do nothing that might put his life in danger: “We need you where you are. Keep telling us what you find out at the Foreign Ministry; that is really where you are most useful for us.”

  Very disappointed by this rejection, Fritz had returned to Berlin with the feeling that he had been “dropped.” But he had nonetheless decided to continue the game of espionage, since he had no other means of acting. Perhaps, he told himself, I just have to wait a little longer and have the patience to convince the Americans of the need for a joint action in Berlin. He was not ready to give up his idea of a “people’s militia.”

  On his return to the capital of the Reich, Fritz Kolbe was informed (probably by Gertrud von Heimerdinger) that he would have no opportunity to return to Switzerland for a long time. New arrangements had been made to reduce to a minimum the list of people authorized to travel abroad. He also learned that the Swiss authorities were now making difficulties over granting him a visa. Fritz wondered what had happened. It was impossible to know for sure. Perhaps his nocturnal visits to certain dens of iniquity had been observed. In the worst case, the Swiss were aware of his contacts with the Americans and wanted to avoid any problem with the authorities of the Reich. After a few moments of anxiety, Fritz finally learned that the Swiss authorities had generally become fussier and that the restrictions applied to everyone.

  Fritz was trapped in Berlin. If he couldn’t go to Bern, he would have liked to go to Stockholm or Lisbon, but those trips were not authorized either. He would have liked to send messages through Albert Bur in Alsace (proposed password: “foie gras of Strasbourg”), but this system didn’t work. That did not keep him from continuing to work for the America
ns. He took some time to learn how to use the camera he had been given and continued working on paper until the fall of 1944. To send documents to Bern, he always had alternative solutions. Some of his friends were still carrying the diplomatic mail to Bern—such as Willy Pohle and a certain Hans Vogel. On other occasions, Professor Sauerbruch went to Switzerland (for example, at Pentecost in 1944).

  On several occasions, Fritz asked for help from another of his acquaintances, Wilhelm Mackeben, who lived in a chalet in Bavaria, in the Allgäu region near Lake Constance. Mackeben traveled extensively around Europe as an “independent sales representative.” He was a former Foreign Ministry official, politically conservative but very opposed to the Nazis. After some service in Latin America, he found himself working for Karl Ritter beginning in September 1939. It was there that Fritz had met him. But the NSDAP had finally gotten his head in 1942, when he had been forced to leave the ministry. During the spring of 1944, Mackeben agreed to get Fritz’s mail to Switzerland. Apparently he still enjoyed a special status that allowed him to go through customs without being checked. He did not know what he was carrying. In any event, Fritz trusted him enough to give him Ernst Kocherthaler’s address. Mackeben was delighted to meet him because he was a “useful contact,” with connections in many parts of Europe. On the way there, Fritz’s messages were hidden in the lining of a piece of clothing or the sole of a shoe. On the way back, the Americans’ answers were concealed in packages of coffee, cigars, or cigarettes.

  The first time that Mackeben went back and forth between Berlin and Bern was in May 1944. A letter from Fritz dated May 10 reached Dulles through him. In this letter, Fritz provided a list of the principal spies working for Germany in North Africa (Tangiers, Tetouan, Casablanca). It contained the names of several diplomats, members of consular services, and journalists of every nationality (including Frenchmen, Italians, and even a former Norwegian consul). The letter contained more than just information. Fritz for the first time expressed irritation. He asked why the Americans had still not followed his advice and bombed, for example, a Siemens capacitor factory in Gera (Thuringia), the petrochemical factories of Leuna, or a communications center of the Navy command in Eberswalde (northeast of Berlin). He was also surprised to learn that nothing had been done to interrupt the flow of tungsten from Spain to Germany (“Wood comments cable speaks for itself and adds: ‘are you still asleep?’”).