Operation Overflight

by Francis Gary Powers

  I also get the impression throughout his account, though it is only obliquely implied, that Eisenhower believed the pilots had been ordered to kill themselves rather than submit to capture.

  Yet I find it difficult to believe the President of the United States would approve a kimikaze-type operation.

  The one question I had been hoping would be answered with his book wasn’t. Why was this particular flight scheduled so close to the Summit?

  But there are clues. And they would seem to bear out my earlier suspicion that the flight on May 1, I960, was intended not only for the intelligence data we could have obtained—although that was unquestionably important—but also to give Eisenhower a better bargaining position at the conference table.

  Eisenhower admits: “Almost from the very beginning, we learned that the Soviets knew of the flights. . . . ” Being aware of this, he must have been aware that it was unlikely this particular flight would have gone undetected. My guess that Eisenhower wanted Khrushchev to know we were still making the flights, in the hope he could use this as leverage in reintroducing the Open Skies Plan in Paris, may not have been too wild a guess. Although I was uninformed of this while in Russia, in his opening remarks at the abortive Summit Conference he stated:

  “I have come to Paris to seek agreements with the Soviet Union which would eliminate the necessity for all forms of espionage, including overflights. I see no reason to use this incident to disrupt the conference.

  “Should it prove impossible, because of the Soviet attitude, to come to grips here in Paris with this problem and the other vital issues threatening world peace, I am planning in the near future to submit to the United Nations a proposal for the creation of a United Nations aerial surveillance to detect preparations for attack. This plan I had intended to place before this conference. This surveillance system would operate in the territories of all nations prepared to accept such inspection. For its part, the United States is prepared not only to accept United Nations aerial surveillance, but to do everything in its power to contribute to the rapid organization and successful operation of such international surveillance.”*

  If Eisenhower’s intention was that Khrushchev learn of the flight, it must be said that, whatever else may have happened, he was certainly successful in that.

  Some mysteries remain. Eisenhower’s reason for authorizing the flight is one.

  Even more fascinating in some ways is another: Was the May 1, I960, flight of the U-2 “betrayed?”

  The CIA has said it wasn’t. But again there are clues. Although the evidence is by no means conclusive, three separate—and seemingly unrelated—incidents indicate that this might have been the case. They are presented here strictly for purposes of speculation.

  In July, I960, William Hamilton Martin and Bernon Ferguson Mitchell, two cryptologists employed by the National Security Agency, “disappeared.” On September 6, I960, they surfaced in Moscow, at a press conference, where they revealed a great deal of information they claimed to have learned while working for the secret agency. One of their claims was that the NSA was monitoring the codes of some forty nations, including many friendly to the United States, even to the extent of intercepting communications of the various governments to their delegations at the United Nations.

  I was informed of their defection by the Soviets a day or two after this—shortly before I was to be transferred from Lubyanka to Vladimir. At the time, however, I was unaware whether the story was simply a ruse designed by my captors to trap me into some admission, or whether the defection and press conference had actually taken place.

  Not until my return to the United States did I learn the particulars of the case—that Martin and Mitchell, both alleged homosexuals, had gone to work for the National Security Agency early in 1957; in February, 1958, for reasons known only to themselves, they had joined the Communist party and begun transmitting secret information to the Russians.

  The full extent of this information has never been made public by either side. That the two men knew of the U-2 overflights, however, there can be no question. Obviously acting under instructions from Moscow, but posing as concerned civil servants, they called on Representative Wayne Hays, Democrat, Ohio, to protest the overflights, apparently in the hope he would apply congressional pressure to have them stopped. (That the Soviets would thus risk exposing two such well-placed agents is indicative of how desperately they wanted to stop the overflights.)

  The National Security Agency was well aware of the overflights, because, as has since been made public, the NSA was involved in processing and studying electronic data received from the U-2 flights.

  Both men were still working for the NSA at the time my last mission was scheduled. Whether in the course of their duties they learned of it and gave this information to their Communist contact is one of those questions which remains unanswered. Among the people I talked to following my return to the United States was an agency man who had worked in the communications section at Adana. His position was supervisorial; he knew what was going on. Curious, I asked him about the delayed Presidential approval on this particular flight.

  This was only one of two things which distinguished this flight from those which preceded it, he told me. The other, a mistake that should never have been made, was the result of a breakdown of communications between Germany and Turkey.

  The overflight orders were conveyed from the United States to Germany, and from Germany to Turkey, via radio code. From Turkey they were then transmitted to the crew in Pakistan, by similar means. The night prior to the flight, having worked around the clock several days awaiting transmission of Presidential approval, the communications man had gone to bed for a few hours, leaving an assistant in charge. During his absence, radio communications between Germany and Turkey broke down. When the approval did come through, the agent in Germany relayed it to Adana over an open telephone line—something absolutely forbidden in any circumstance. The assistant had then relayed it to Peshawar.

  The communications man learned of this only the next morning, on arriving at work. Had he been on duty when the message came in, he swore, he never would had sent it further, the risk of the call’s having been monitored being so great.

  Thus there is a possibility that the Russians knew I would be taking off even before I did.

  More than one writer has suggested that the CIA itself betrayed the flight, as a part of some vast conspiracy to wreck the Summit. Lest in mentioning the above I encourage further exploitation of this wild fantasy, it should be stated that the best—and most conclusive—evidence against this theory is the simplest: the agency’s total lack of preparedness for the crash possibility, and the “monumental flap” that ensued.

  The third bit of “evidence” poses far more questions than it answers. Yet it is, in its own way, by far the most intriguing. It concerns the possibility of the altitude of the U-2 having been betrayed.

  When the U-2’s altitude is referred to as “secret,” that term is qualified. In addition to those personally involved in U-2 flights, a number of others, by the nature of their duties, had access to this information. These included air-traffic controllers and at least some of the radar personnel at the bases where U-2s were stationed.

  In 1957 the U-2s were based in a new location, Atsugi, Japan.

  In September of that year a seventeen-year-old Marine Corps private was assigned to Marine Air Control Squadron No. 1 (MACS-1), based at Atsugi. MACS-1 was a radar unit whose duties included scouting for incoming foreign aircraft. Its equipment included height-finding radar. The private, a trained radar operator, had access to this equipment.

  He remained in Japan until November, 1958, at which time he was returned to the United States and assigned to Marine Air Control Squadron No. 9 (MACS-9) at the Marine Corps Air Station at El Toro, California. El Toro was not a U-2 base, but U-2s frequently flew over this portion of Southern California. At El Toro he had access not only to radar and radio codes but also to the new MPS 16 height-fi
nding radar gear.

  In September, 1959, he obtained a “hardship discharge” from the U.S. Marine Corps.

  The following month he defected to the Soviet Union.

  On October 31 he appeared in the American Embassy in Moscow to state his intention of renouncing his U.S. citizenship. According to Richard E. Snyder, the second secretary and senior consular official, and John A. McVickar, Snyder’s assistant, who was also present, during the course of the conversation he mentioned that he had already offered to tell the Russians everything he knew about the Marine Corps and his specialty, radar operation. He also intimated that he might know something of “special interest.”

  His name was Lee Harvey Oswald.

  Six months later my U-2 was shot down.

  Oswald’s familiarity with MPS 16 height-finding radar gear and radar and radio codes (the latter were changed following his defection) are mentioned in the testimony of John E. Donovan, a former first lieutenant assigned to the same El Toro radar unit as Oswald, on page 298 of Volume 8 of the Warren Commission Hearings. According to Donovan, Oswald “had the access to the location of all bases in the west coast area, all radio frequencies for all squadrons, all tactical call signs, and the relative strength of all squadrons, number and type of aircraft in a squadron, who was the commanding officer, the authentication code of entering and exiting the ADIZ, which stands for Air Defense Identification Zone. He knew the range of our radar. He knew the range of our radio. And he knew the range of the surrounding units’ radio and radar.”

  Oswald’s conversation with Snyder is mentioned at least three times in the Report of the Warren Commission on the Assassination of President Kennedy (page references are to The New York Times edition, published by McGraw-Hill, October, 1964):

  Page 618: “Oswald told him that he had already offered to tell a Soviet official what he had learned as a radar operator in the Marines.”

  Page 665: “Oswald stated to Snyder that he had voluntarily told Soviet officials that he would make known to them all information concerning the Marine Corps and his specialty therein, radar operations, as he possessed.”

  Page 369: “He stated that he had volunteered to give Soviet officials any information that he had concerning Marine Corps operations, and intimated that he might know something of special interest.”

  During the six months following the October 31, 1959, embassy meeting, there were only two overflights of the USSR. The one which occurred on April 9, I960, was uneventful. The one which followed, on May 1, I960, wasn’t.

  Here the trail ends, except for one tantalizing lead, discovered during the research for this volume.

  Among the Warren Commission Documents in the National Archives in Washington, D.C., is one numbered 931, dated May 13, 1964, CIA National Security Classification Secret

  In response to an inquiry, Mark G. Eckhoff, director, Legislative, Judicial, and Diplomatic Records Division, National Archives, in a letter dated October 13, 1969, stated: “Commission Document 931 is still classified and withheld from research.”

  The title of Document No. 931 is “Oswald’s Access to Information About the U-2.”

  The former President could write about the U-2 episode; retired agency officials—Dulles, Kirkpatrick—could write about it, as could others in no way connected with the program. The man most directly involved could not.

  In August, 1967, I again requested permission to write a book concerning my experiences.

  I was more hopeful this time. Raborn had been replaced by Richard Helms, a man who had worked his way up through the ranks of the CIA and undoubtedly knew more about intelligence than any other director since Dulles. There were also indications that intelligence, not politics, was Helms’ primary concern.

  I was told that the request would be made of the “big man” at what seemed “the most opportune moment.”

  “This isn’t the right time to bring it up,” I was told in a telephone call a couple of weeks later.

  Nor was the moment opportune the next time they called. For in the interim the “spy ship” Pueblo had been captured by the North Koreans, and the last thing the government wanted, I was told, was more publicity.

  With the seizure of the Pueblo, interest in the U-2 story was reactivated. Although the two events differed in at least one important particular—the Pueblo was outside the territorial waters of North Korea, I had intruded right into the heart of Russia—there were obvious parallels. And some not so obvious, because they involved that portion of the U-2 story which had never been made public. I wondered how many Pueblo episodes would have to occur before we accepted the basic lessons we should have learned from the U-2 crisis.

  This was one factor in my decision to go ahead with the book. There were others. My job was not risk-free; if anything happened to me, chances were the story would never be told. Too, and this was not the least of my considerations, in a few years my children would be reading about the U-2 incident in school. I wanted them to know the truth.

  In the fall of 1968 I was contacted by John Dodds, editor-in-chief of Holt, Rinehart and Winston, Inc. Dodds was aware of the earlier negotiations for the book, and was anxious to publish my story if I was ready to write it. I was more than ready.

  Sue and I flew to New York and talked to him. On our return to California I informed the agency of the Holt offer and, for the last time, asked permission to publish my account.

  After waiting several weeks, my patience finally came to an end. Since they had helped perpetuate the Francis Gary Powers mercenary label, I’d play the part. Sarcastically I wrote to them that I was going to write the book, and while entertaining bids, and since they had been so anxious to suppress it, I’d be glad to consider their best offer.

  It was, in its own way, my declaration of independence.

  To my surprise, I did receive an answer, in the form of a telephone call asking me if I would be willing to come to Washington to discuss the matter. I did, informing them at the outset that I intended to accept the offer made by Holt, Rinehart and Winston.

  Only then was I told the agency had no objection to my writing the book. While they, of course, couldn’t give such permission in writing, they did want me to know that they would be glad to do anything possible to assist me.

  Although not ungrateful for their offer, I politely declined it. Undoubtedly access to their records would shed light on some of the more puzzling aspects of the U-2 episode. On the other hand, such cooperation would carry with it an unspoken obligation. This was to be my version of the story, not the agency’s. I was determined to tell it as I had lived it, and this, to the best of my ability, I have done.

  As the writing of the book progressed, I made an interesting discovery. Although this may also sound like sarcasm, it isn’t. In suppressing the book for nearly eight years, the agency did me a favor. I could now tell the story far more fully and frankly than would have been possible in 1962.

  I have omitted only a few particulars, and in fairness to the reader I will state their nature.

  I have not included the actual altitude of the U-2. By now it may be presumed that Russia, Cuba, and Communist China all know it. Yet, just on the chance that it isn’t known and that the life of a pilot might be placed in jeopardy, it will go unmentioned.

  I have not itemized the number of overflights, nor related what intelligence information was received. My reasoning on this matter remains the same as when I first withheld this information from the Russians. Having held it back through many hours of interrogation, I have no intention of giving it to them now for the price of a book.

  I have not mentioned certain phases of my training, both in the Air Force and in the agency, which might still be in use and thus beneficial to an enemy.

  I have not included the names of other pilots, agency personnel, or representatives of Lockheed and the many other companies involved in the U-2 program. It is not my business to “blow their cover.”

  And I have omitted some matters which I feel cou
ld affect present national security.

  These are the only things excluded.

  In the fall of 1969, as the book was nearing completion, I did something else I had wanted to do for a very long time. I wrote a letter.

  Dear Zigurd:

  It’s been a long time since I last saw you standing in the window at Vladimir as I was being led away. As happy as I was to be leaving, there was a great sadness in me that you were remaining behind those bleak walls.

  I’m sure you’ve heard that I was exchanged for Soviet spy Colonel Rudolf Abel. You probably have not heard much of what transpired after my release.

  One of the things happening to me now is that I am writing my life story, to be published in the spring of next year. The research and reviewing of my journal and diary brought back memories, many of which I have tried to forget.

  I am sending this letter to you in care of your parents, at the address you gave me the night before I left Vladimir. If you are allowed to correspond, I would like very much to hear from you. If the above-mentioned proves to be a good address, I will send you a copy of my book as soon as it is published. It will bring you up to date on the many things that have happened since I last saw you.

  I hope your parents are well and happy. It would please me if you would convey to them my best wishes and my sincerest appreciation for the aid and kindness they showed me while we were at Vladimir.

  Sincerely yours,

  Francis Gary Powers

  Some weeks later I received the return receipt I had requested. The handwriting was familiar; it was signed by Zigurd. Although to date there has been no reply, I am immensely relieved to know that he is alive and apparently no longer in prison.

  FIVE

  LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA JANUARY, 1970

  Asked during a television interview what lessons for the future could be drawn from the U-2 crisis, James Hagerty, President Eisenhower’s press secretary, replied, “Don’t get caught.” Similarly questioned during an appearance before the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, Secretary of State Christian Herter phrased his response only slightly differently, “Not to have accidents.”