HOW WE CAUGHT SPIES IN WORLD WAR II

• Document Type: CREST
• Collection: General CIA Records
• Document Number (FOIA) /ESDN (CREST): CIA-RDP86B00269R000500050103-7
• Release Decision: RIFPUB
• Original Classification: K
• Document Page Count: 10
• Document Creation Date: December 14, 2016
• Document Release Date: April 28, 2003
• Sequence Number: 103
• Content Type: NSPR

Release 2003/05/27: CIA-REMq
from left: Spy Mario Marlinelli. Alt. tipingarn. spy Carla C(1.111. V. S. %i-III nurse and an 1lalian eorrrhiuii>re. NIarlinelli
u:rs exeerrle( I and eigIrteetl-N,':rr-old Sial1(0rina If :os1a ita~ liven a luenly-year lenee. era,Lsen he cca~ one of the 11,11'(14-1 to .
How We Caught Spies in World War II
lV ,ti'l'l;!
1114"V J.SI'IAi"Gi11 N rvit/i. MILTON ILE';ll Il I V
I : , I I r 1 I I I I t ~ \ t-r I t 1 r l , _ , O . I ( : , I r l a i ( : u e I a . . . e N i-n I t l t I a \ I t I I111, of new %%aN . tt) IIIal.r'' I1.'r (?uII ft .I'III,
story of the ei-blevn-Near-old ii'' skater who Asa; the. slickest of all (;trrulan o11r.raliv(' in Ital.
.MOS'1'everybody likes to know secrets. even if
the reward for seeking t hem is sometimes
del Ii. There's a litl.le of the daydrea(ning
Walter Mitty in all of us -Walter Milty, the spy,
snapping the blindfold from his eyes, taking a last
puft' of his cigarette and facing 1lie firing squad no-
,d'raid, Hut alter three years overseas wit h the A our-
tea n Counter Intelligence Corps, I no longer wish to
he a spy_ I will be happy spending the rest of my life
without knowing anybody's secrets.
As chief of the spy catchers for t lie 501 Army in
I Ialy, I saw more spies than Walter Mit.ty dreamed
of. For seven months, beginning in October, 1911,
I he German tiiielhgence Service trained more than
1(10 Italian agents and dispat.ched them against the
Allied lines. 01' t.hese, betl,er than 90 per cent were
ruptured. The American ('IC caught, almost all of
I hetn.
At this point in I he war, the Allies were stale-
nr;tied in Northern I l.aly, waiting l'or spring and t he
offensive I hat would carry us through the Po Valley
to the end of the war. North of us, 1.he Germans were
making their last desperate effort to hold Italy.
Their ground troops were battle-weary and their
once-proud I uftwat9'e was powerless. Earlier, the
!,itftwaffe supplied the Wehrmacht with air-recon-
naissance reports on the Allied comings and goings.
Now, with its planes shot out of the skies, the enemy
turned to mass espionage to discover our plans.
The German Abruehr, responsible for espionage,
chose deliberately to send its agents against the
American Counter Intelligence Corps. In Nora h
Africa, the Ahwehr considered CIC an out lit, of
blundering amateurs, likely to suspect an innocent.
waitress of spying while failing to recognize Mata
I larL At. first, in Italy, our British :end French col-
leagues. steeped in the ('oral inenlal tradition of sus-
picion. also looked down on us. But while the clean-
cut Anu'rican boy is no natural spy catcher, he does
have at capacity to learn by mistakes. And we had
made plenty of mistakes. Now the Germans made
one they never gof over. They thought us a soft
I ouch and sent I heir best agents against us.
When Bologna fell, we caught one of their spy
n(asters, whose mane, if anenuary serves, was Lieu-
tenant 'Prink. 'Prink, commanding Ahu'ehr Trappe
I:S:J, was amazed at the tendency of CIC to capture
his :tgenl s.'1'hrough t hese agents, we pieced together
Hie story of his brave effort in that winter of es-
pionage.
In :I ca idle'it room ;r1 midnight, the lieutenant
gathered his stay recruits. Both men and women
were blindfolded, stripped, bathed, and robed in
chaste white togas. Officially cleansed, they were led
I o an automobile, which circled the block. They were
broughi back to the room t .hey'd just left.. The blind-
folds were whipped from their eyes and t hey looked
out on a scene of magnificent horror.
The room was draped in ebony silk, with a blood-
red ceiling. In I lie flickering candlelight, masked then
stood around a table. On 1 he table were a leering
skull and a leaf her-bound Bible. While mournful
music played in the background, (he recruits waited
tensely under a searchlight. In the shadows was
Lieutenant'I'rink, his lace muffled in black, wearing
I he insignia of a Wehrnincht colonel.
In a somber voice, the lieutenant. demanded a
blood ritual. Usually, a hypoderinic injection was
used, 'Prink warning Hie init.iatc's that unless they
returned lot- a counterinject ion, they would surely
di(,. '1 'he scrum was water-except once when the re-
cruit wars so frightened I lint adrenalin was adminis-
Iered.'Phus indoctrinated, thc wavering spies strode
_jauntily Through the front lines to capture.
'Prink was a great one for locker-room fight talks.
(.at hcring his spies:rboul him, he told (hem glowing
stories :tboui the success of their fellow agents iu Al-
lied territory. ~rcnv the activities of Ahas-hr Truppc
1 ;: t were roan i ng to the att (,ntion of the Gernaan high
comanand. I)er h'iihrer, he said, had himself' inquired
about the exploits of this amazing little Ahwchr
Truppc down on the italian front. Citations and
promotions would be forthcoming short ly.
At the end of February, 1915, however, Trink's
foot slipped. lie got drunk, extremely drunk. To
make matters worse, lie got drunk in the presence of
one of his subordinates, whom we later captured. In
the dark reaches of his night of shame, Lieutenant
'Prink broke down, covered his face with his hands
and wept. Bet'.veen sobs, he cried that his life had
been a t hing of sham and mockery. I hat the True ex-
ploits of Abcuchr Trapp, 153 were slightly different
from what lie had previously outlined.
"Y:th," he said, "for six months we have been
here on lbis nir,serable Italian front, sending agents
across the line; against Ihose accursed Americans.
Dozens of agents I have sent and not one .schweiu-
huud has ever tome back'" Then he broke into sohs
riresh.
For CI(', non an overworked and spy-conscious
out fit I he rush of Italian agents was exhausting. In
Northern Italy, the Abwchr opened a dozen spy
schools, recruit jing poor peasants, black-market. oper-
it ors, Fascists and former officers of the Italian air
force and navy 't'heir recruits ranged from a twelve-
year-old boy tc middle-aged men and women. There
was even :( half-wit, an innocent soul who agreed to
cross the lines for two dollars in Italian lire.
Seeking quantity, rather than quality, the Abwehr
gave recruits a I hree-week cram course in espionage
and sabotage, then trucked them to areas facing the
American lines and rushed them over. Other spies
were stay-hehind agents, ;rssigned to a German-held
town and 1 old to wait. there until the 5th .Army rolled
past. Some arrived by (I ,u,rinruel enr I'rr;;e Ill)
Approved For Release 2003/05/27 : CIA-RDP86B00269R000500050103-7
 HOW WE CAUGHT SPIES
IN WORLD WAR 11
parachute. Once we caught the en-
tire graduating class of Abwehr Kom-
mando 211 and dropped the class photo-
graph by plane over new recruits with
the warning: "Italians, Beware! You
Can't Escape the Allied Intelligence."
The parachute spies were usually
radio teams, the cream of the enemy's
intelligence. They were well drilled for
their missions and then, without much
Ile was always bob-
bing up where he
was not expected."
"Isis handsome face
concealed a surprising-
ly incendiary temper."
"in private he liked
to crouch at his old-
fashioned typewriter."
"lie was unhappy, he
overate and he often
snored at. his desk."
"Or he might hum a
Methodist tune, as if
it gave hint courage."
By
IRA R. T. SMITH
with JOE ALEX MORRIS
"The Teddy Bear was a
great publicity stunt,
and he just loved it."
Approved For Rel Ae, 6 1tb6Y2Y"'. 'W-%"B00269R000500050103-7
forethought, the Germans entrusted
them to flak-weary pilots who dropped
them in haste over the Allied lines.
Their spy masters lured them aboard
the planes with a tale that this was
merely a dry run, a rehearsal for the
actual jump. When the plane came over
the drop zone, however, the Germans
suddenly pushed the Italians out the
door. In the scuffle, the jump was de-
layed and the spies usually landed miles
from their targets.
After this happened a few times,
the German spy masters got a new
idea -one of the more horrible ones of
the war. They brought two radio teams
together. They ordered the four men
to climb into a large wooden box. They
strapped an agent in each corner of the
box, with a parachute rigged above
him. The box was then attached to the
wing of the German plane. The plane
took off, and over the drop zone the
box was released and the parachutes
opened. Now there was no danger of
scattering spies, but the box came
down from the skies with a crash, and
the casualty rate was awesome. Down-
cast, most of the Italians who survived
turned up at the nearest CIC detach-
ment and reported, "Here I am! I used
to be a spy! "
MY
FIFTY YEARS
IN THE
WHITE HOUSE
"else was pleasaill
when we saw him, b11
lhal t US not often.'.
"lie could make a
grand gesture for the
lowliest stenographer.-
-h . took him quite a
while to decide lie
liked being President."
For half a century Ira U. T. Smith
opened the letters that millions of Americans-
perhaps including yourself-addressed to the
President of the United States. From his priv-
ileged ringside seat iii the White House, where
he handled the mail for every Chief Executive
front McKinley Lo Truman, lie saw nine Presi-
. dents and their families at work and at play,
and he formed his own opinions about all of them.
Now retired, Mr. Smith has written a series of
eight articles for the Post, a highly entertaining
series in which lie reveals many such secrets as how
he discovered the plot to assassinate Harry Truman,
what lie did with Nan Britton's threatening letters
to Warren G. Harding, why there was a recording
machine concealed under FI)R's office floor. These
intimate, delightfully readable memoirs begin in . . .
Next Week's Post
With 300 enemy agents, however re-
luctant, wandering over Allied terri-
tory, anything could happen. The
miracle was that it didn't. The victors
in war are also the victors in counter-
espionage, and we won both battles.
But unlike victory in warfare, which
is measured by taken ground, captured
cities and surrendered armies, victory
in counterespionage is measured by the
occurrence of nothing. Except for the
Abwehr's discovery of the plans for
Salerno, no major Allied plan was dis-
covered through enemy espionage.
Whole companies of saboteurs were
sent behind Allied lines, but I recall no
single proved act of sabotage in Italy
that succeeded. Into Leghorn harbor
young, tough and daring Italians swam,
carrying demolition bombs in their
arms, wearing fantastic rubber suits
and rubber fins attached to their legs.
No ships were blown up. We caught
these agents with our coastal network
of machine-gun posts and counterspies.
If any escaped, they apparently gave
up their missions.
What might have happened, though,
still makes me gasp. We uncovered a
score of sabotage kits, buried by the
Germans as they retreated up the
peninsula. They came complete with all
sorts of fiendish devices. There were
booby traps and plastic explosives,
which could be molded to represent
coffeepots or C rations. There were
exploding pens and pencils, which
might have meant disaster in an Allied
headquarters. There were simulated
cans of American soup, loaded with
TNT, and barometric bombs, designed
to explode airplanes at certain altitudes.
In October, 1944, we captured the
first of the saboteurs, two young, fright-
ened Italians named Aristide Fabbi
and Adolfo Magistrelli. Special Agent
Gordon Mason, a former Ohio news-
paper reporter and a stubborn interro-
gator, broke the case. Mason sat at his
Army field desk in CIC headquarters
when the suspects were brought in. He
kept them at attention while he exam-
ined their identity cards, signed by a
small-town Italian mayor. After a five-
minute silence, in which Mason
drummed his fingers on the desk and
the spies' knees shook, he addressed
them.
"Gentlemen," he said, "you have
made a grave mistake. It is an error
one should avoid in forging documents.
The mayor's name, Giovanni Crotti,
must be signed either with one t or
with two. It cannot be written both
ways."
Fabbi and Magistrelli confessed.
With all things possible, CIC was
always on the alert. There were reports
that saboteurs had cut the Allied com-
munication wires. When Furniss or
Weber or Warren went out to investi-
gate, he found that a simple farmer had
seen the wire and decided it would be
excellent for tying his haystacks. "But
the brave Americans have so much of
this wire," the farmer would protest,
waving his arms, "and we poor Ital-
ians have so little!"
After such cases, my men sometimes
became cynical. To teach them the im-
portance of an open mind, I personally
took charge of the case of the walking
pigeon. This pigeon appeared one frosty
morning, walking down the highway
toward the front, where he was seized
by an Italian carabiniere. The Italian
examined him closely and discovered,
to his amazement, a metal leg band
with a message in German. He promptly
rushed the bird to my headquarters.
"Signor Colonnello," he announced,
"this walking bird is a spy!" My men
laughed tolerantly.
Approved For Release 2003/05/27 : CIA-RDP86B00269R000500050103-7
 1 12 Approved For Release 2000106121?iiiG 4R R8B&0B69R000500050103-7 December 11, 19,18
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"Hold on there," I declared. "A
good counteragent is always suspicious.
Let me have that pigeon."
The message in German was addressed
to a Wehrmacht captain in the town of
San Martino. I got out my field map
and pointed out San Martino, deep in
Allied territory.
"You, Furniss, and you, Weber!"
I ordered. "Take off at once for San
Martino and don't come back without
that captain!"
It was quite a while before we dis-
covered there were a number of San
Martinos in Italy, several of them be-
hind the German lines, and deduced
that our pigeon had actually been dis-
patched from one German outfit to
another. Our bird was not a spy pigeon
but a liaison pigeon, apparently blown
off its course. He had landed in Allied
territory and decided to walk back.
But it was conceivable that the Ger-
mans were using pigeons for espionage,
and I ordered a full but unrewarding
study of carrier-pigeon coops in Italy.
In the midst of the spy flood I sent ur-
gent messages to headquarters asking
for more help, but. our biggest ally that
winter was the Italian spy himself, who
felt crushed between his German com-
manders and the thought of execution
by the Allies. Now there were two Ger-
man spy agencies - the Sicherheitsdienst
as well as the Abwehr. The SD, under
Heinrich Himmler, moved into the spy
business shortly before Admiral Ca-
naris, the Abwehr chief, tried to assas-
sinate Adolf Hitler. Later, the SD took
over completely. Even so, there was no
marked improvement in German es-
pionage.
Once detected, the enemy's agents
were usually ready to talk. And when
they talked, they told enough to pre-
pare us for their colleagues' arrival.
From all this talking we discovered
that agents followed a certain pattern.
Thanks to German discipline and stu-
pidity, we could often pick out a single
spy in a stockade crowded by Italian
refugees.
Before the agents went out, the
German spy masters carefully taught
them their "cover" stories, designed
to explain why the agent had come into
Allied territory. We studied these cover
stories closely. Following orders, a
dozen agents would say, " My house in
Padova (or Milano, or San Pietro) has
been bombed."
"The Germans," another dozen would
offer, "are drafting everybody my age
for the army."
"I have come south for love, to see
my girl friend in Napoli," another
group would report. These stories were
rehearsed and often repeated in the
same words, assuring our interrogators
of the presence of a spy.
A spy's clothes and the contents of
his pockets were revealing. The Ger-
mans took good care of their agents. In
impoverished Italy, where most of the
natives were threadbare, the enemy's
agents were always warmly dressed.
Their suits were often cut from the
same cloth, and the German SD quar-
termaster in Verona efficiently issued
his agents the same boots, recognizable
at 200 yards. Some were even given
identical shaving kits, cigarette light-
ers and German field rations. I trust
that this scheme of supply simplified
the enemy's bookkeeping as much as it
did ours.
Of all my agents, Rex Roth, the
former insurance adjuster, became our
master interrogator. Lean, saturnine
and intent, he served brilliantly for CIC
at RIP-the Refugee Interrogation
Post. RIP was the final clearing point
for all Italians found wandering through
the battle zone. Roth, who grilled
them, probably met more spies and got
more confessions than any other coun-
teragent in history.
His first suspect was Giorgio dell'
Argine, a twenty-year-old medical stu-
dent from Genoa. Giorgio gave him the
" Germans-are-drafting-everybody"
story and said he had worked his way
south to escape. Roth asked about his
trip. What was his route? At what towns
did he stop? Where did he stay the
fourth night out? What does the road
to Bologna look like? Roth, who had
studied Italian guidebooks for two
hours in advance, knew the answers.
Giorgio did not. He confessed.
Another suspect, Ugo Parra, a poor
peasant, told how he had been em-
ployed by the Abwehr at the point of a
gun, but he had already confessed a
hundred times on his way through the
Allied lines. He was first reported by
an Italian farmer's wife, who saw
him walking down the road under
a mild artillery barrage, crying aloud,
"I am a spy! I will be killed! I am a
spy!"
The Abwehr's best spies, however,
were neither reluctant nor scared. Al-
though CIC eventually broke down
almost every spy it caught, there were
a few who were almost unbreakable. I
A. man should get out of debt
before he marries; otherwise he
may never know how it feels.
-KENNE1'11 I.. KRICIIBAUM.
shall never forget Carla Costa. She was
the most contrary spy I ever met, and
even today I think of new ways to
make her confess. She was eighteen
years old. She was squat, chubby and
rather muscular, having once been a
professional ice skater. Though not
ugly, she was no beauty-but neither
was any good lady spy I ever saw.
The case of Carla Costa began in
October, 1944, with the capture of a
young Italian named Mario Martinelli.
Martinelli was interrogated by Special
Agent John Richardson, a sociologist
from Southern California, and told a
typically improbable story. He said he
was living with a countess in Florence
and was going south to buy vegetables.
The countess was called on and she
gave an equally absorbing but radi-
cally different account. Thereupon
Martinelli confessed that he was in
truth a German agent, working for a
German air-force espionage unit, Ab-
wehr Kommando 190.
"I am rather poor at this work," he
said modestly. " My comrade, however,
would have much to teach you. She
is only a girl, but she has been kissed on.
the forehead by Mussolini himself and
she wears the German Iron Cross,
Second Class, for distinction."
Martinelli confessed at great length.
Like many a spy, once he started talk-
ing, nobody could stop him. Gordon
Messing, our bespectacled linguist,
asked him to prepare a brief statement
and stood by to translate. While Mess-
ing peered over his shoulder, pleading
with him to keep it short, Martinelli
went on writing for two days and two
nights, finally producing sixty-three
pages for an exhausted Messing to
translate. In the end, it was enough to
send Martinelli before a firing squad.
Meanwhile, we were searching for
Carla Costa. Martinelli told us she had
crossed the lines with him a few days
before. She was on her way to Rome to
gather top-level political intelligence.
She planned to meet Martinelli at the
home of the countess in Florence, and
they would go back through the lines
together. From the countess we learned
that Carla Costa had already started
back, carrying a mesh handbag con-
taining a handkerchief with a message
in invisible ink, and wearing blue ten-
nis shoes.
With this description, I ordered a
dragnet search. Gordon Mason dis-
covered her, blue tennis shoes and all,
riding on the handle bars of a bicycle
propelled by an obliging Italian youth.
"Buon giorno, Carla." said Mason.
"We've been looking for you."
The young lady was completely
dead pan. She denied that her name was
Carla Costa. She was a refugee, she
said, and was innocently riding to San
Marcello Pistoiese to be with her father
and mother, who were very ill. When
Mason brought her back to headquar-
ters, I led her to the door of the room
where Martinelli was waiting.
"There's a friend of yours here," I
said, watching her closely as I swung
open the door. There wasn't the slight-
est flash of recognition.
Carla wouldn't talk. For five days
and nights I threw my best interroga-
tors at her. She refused to comment, ex-
cept to say we were proving what it
Duce always declared, that Americans
take out their rage on young, helpless
girls. On the second day, however, she
made one small admission which even-
tually unseated her. The Americans
were not the only fools, she said. There
were also fools in her own country.
Even her own parents, who lived in
Rome, had failed to see the light of
Fascism. With this small nugget of
information, I requested Special Agent
Frank Looney, of the Air Force CIC
in Rome, to visit Carla's parents.
We all tried grilling her. Gordon
Messing, the linguist, tried. John
Richardson, the sociologist, tried. So
did Gordon Mason and Gerry Weber
and Julius Sagi, and all failed equally.
Maj. Cesare Faccio, the chief of my
Italian counterintelligence section,
bragged that he had never failed to
crack a suspect. "Hokay," said Faccio,
amused at our feeble effort, "I will
break the Costa girl! " He grilled her
for six hours, and came out breathing
heavily. "She's weakening," he said.
"I shall come back tomorrow." He
didn't come back.
One evening I came in with a bottle
of excellent cognac and passed it
around the room in the hope that it
might loosen Carla's tongue. Every-
body drank but Carla. Next, I at-
tempted some amateur psychoanalysis.
It was clear that Carla saw herself as a
great Italian heroine. I had a news re-
lease prepared and took it to her.
"Look, Carla," I said. "You think
you're a heroine. But what will the
Italians think? Just what I tell .them
through their newspapers; and what
I'll tell them is that Carla Costa, the
notorious prostitute of the Germans,
has confessed to the CIC and impli-
cated many of her comrades."
Carla was upset, but not enough to
start talking.
I restricted her diet to a cup of coffee
for breakfast and a piece of toast for
lunch. Carla lost some weight, but she
laughed at me. My last attempt, for
which her defense counsel later painted
me as a sadistic beast, was to enter her
room with a heaping plate of spaghetti
and eat it noisily while I grilled her.
Carla watched me with ravenous hun-
ger, but she didn't break.
(Continued on Page 144)
Approved For Release 2003/05/27 : CIA-RDP86B00269R000500050103-7
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(continued from I'age 142) propaganda. The stupid Americans
At this moment, the report from can't hurt, you."
Agent Looney arrived from Rome. It In May, 1945, when the war was
was a magnificent document, contain- over, Special Agent Rex Roth found
ing the report from Carla's parents and Doctor Kora in the prisoner compound
the confession of another woman spy, in Modena, Italy. The spy master, who
a friend of Carla's. I brought Looney's had trained Carla Costa and Mario
report to Carla Costa and began read- Martinelli, was dressed in a paratroop-
ing. I read how she had been trained er's shabby uniform. Roth escorted him
and briefed for her missions, how she back to headquarters, and on the way
had completed two missions success- the Germans' ace spy master and the
fully and was now on her third, how her American master interrogator talked
mother had locked her up in the bath- espionage. They laughed at Doctor
room while in Rome on her second mis- Kora's trick of supplying agents with
sion, how she had escaped and hitch- handkerchiefs inscribed in invisible
hiked back to the German lines, getting ink and they laughed at Roth's plan to
a lift from an unsuspecting member of catch Doctor Kora's agents with a
the military police. certain mysterious chemical.
Laying down the report, I observed Roth had heard of this chemical back
to the intent young lady that she was in Chicago, where it was highly adver-
obviously unimportant now. "Tomor- tised as a means of trapping spies. First
row," I said, making the words sound you managed to get the chemical on
sinister, "I shall turn you over for fur- the spy's hands. When you caught him,
ther processing." Thereupon, the tough- you made him wash in a second chemi-
est spy I ever met broke down. She cal, which turned his hands blue. The
confessed, giving a fine detailed story Chicago instructors had never said how
of German intelligence at its highest this was to be accomplished, but just
levels. As a result of her information, before the war ended, Roth discovered
we later caught several other agents. a way. He treated bars of soap with the
At her trial, Carla Costa's defense first chemical and had a double agent
attorney argued long and eloquently. -ready tp distribute them in Doctor
An elderly British captain, he main- Kora's washrooms.
"
Doctor
tained that Carla was a child of Fas- "What a remarkable idea!
cism -she had never known any other Kora exclaimed. "But you Americans
way of life. He implied that CIC had take so long to learn."
grossly mistreated her, and he ended In North Africa, we were young,
up with so spirited a defense that the earnest Americans who saw the world
court decided, perhaps confusing her divided into heroes and villains. We
with a juvenile delinquent, that her studied the French and the British
life should be spared. She was sen- spy catchers and were shocked at our
tenced to twenty years' imprisonment. own ignorance. In Italy, we learned the
Her less successful teammate was sen- ways of spies, and eventually we
tenced to death. matched the best efforts of the Ger-
Through the first months of 1945, man intelligence and saw it destroyed
the Germans continued to send us when we reached Austria and Ger-
squads and companies of agents. By many.
now, through their colleagues' confes- But this was war, demanding new re-
sions, we were able to greet agents by sponsibilities and giving us greater
name, unit and mission soon after they power than democratic Americans have
crossed the lines. Rex Roth was sort- ever held. We had power to arrest
ing spies from the innocent as quickly without cause, to search without writ
as a shepherd detects a wolf in his flock or reason, to imprison indefinitely
of sheep. When we finally pushed into without trial. With these powers, which
the Po Valley in the last spring offen- we learned to hate, we were, in our way,
sive, the spies were as ready to give up the first American Gestapo. But when
as the Wehrmacht. the war was over, like all other Amer-
At the end of the war in Italy, the icans, most of us rushed back to our
5th Army CIC had captured more than peacetime pursuits, glad to live again
500 enemy agents. Of these, fewer than under a government of laws and not of
fifty were executed. By Anglo-Saxon men.
law, our courts ruled that a spy did not Jim Furniss is now working for the
merely have to confess his mission. To Atlanta Constitution as political editor;
call down the death penalty, we also Ray Arrizabalaga, Jr., the one-time
had to prove he intended to carry it out. deputy sheriff, is now a hardware dealer
CIC caught many of its victims before in Fallon, Nevada; Julius Sagi and
they had a chance to carry out their Gerry Weber are practicing law in Chi-
missions, thereby guaranteeing them cago, and Erie, Pennsylvania; Alba War-
life. ren is teaching English at Princeton
Behind the German lines, the Ab- University; and I am back at my desk
wehr had preached to its recruits that in the Treasury Department. Some of
the Allies were soft, and disinclined to our men are dead. Al Benjamin was
shoot captured agents. One of their killed in North Africa, a few months
spy masters, the infamous chief of Ab- after the landing, and Anthony Gior-
wehr Kommando 190, who called him- dano of Brooklyn, and John Rubsam of
self "Doctor Kora," liked to tell his Manhattan, died at Cassino, in Italy.
men that theirs was the safest job on John Walcott, of Boston, was killed near
earth. "Don't you worry," he would Caserta, and Tony Panard fell on Anzio
say, whenever they heard reports that beachhead. Paul Halloran and Bob
their colleagues were actually shot by Campbell were blown up by an enemy
the Allies. "This is just American mine in the last push that ended the
HALF YOUR BRAIN
IS A SPARE
Then along came Danish-born Jo-
hannes Maagaard Nielsen. He began
his studies at the University of Illinois,
where he supported himself by coaching
Uceernber 11, 1918
war. Julius Volpe died in Italy shortly
after V-E Day.
But a few of our men are still abroad
working for the Army's CIC and for
the new civilian secret-intelligence serv-
ice-the Central Intelligence Agency.
From them I've heard of America's
first peacetime effort to meet the world
in the power contest of espionage. In
Europe, the Far East and the Near
East, they are finding capable under-
grounds, which would operate against
us in the event of trouble. In many
cases, these were the very same under-
grounds that helped us win the last war.
Today, our national security de-
mands intelligence of a world in which
we are a leading power. Americans can
and must be trained in intelligence
work. In the military and civilian in-
telligence services we need men of
ability, willing to make a career of es-
pionage and counterespionage. Experi-
ence has shown that civilians must
head up these services on a long-term
basis. First-rate military men are not
content with secret intelligence as a
career-they want top-flight com-
mands-and second-raters cannot do
the job. But topnotch civilians also will
not make a career of secret intelligence
unless its status is increased and unless
they are assured that they will not have
to suffer under the bumbling direction
of men without either experience or
long-term interest in the job.
During the war we were taken in
hand by the British when we needed
help. We had to use the British world-
wide central counterintelligence files
because we had none of our own. We
still have no central files comparable to
the British. The greatest power in the
world today should not rely on any
other nation, however friendly. Britain
could be overrun by an enemy in a
third World War.
By now, we should have learned our
lesson. But the reports I've been get-
ting lately from CIC men abroad show
that we still haven't learned quite
enough and have already forgotten
much of what we've learned. One of
my friends, now in Austria, wrote to me
recently: "The woods here are full of
agents from all countries, and you
can't always tell for whom they're
working. Besides, few of our men ex-
cept the CIC veterans seem to know
much about espionage. The others from
back home come over all ready to steal
state secrets, but they don't know the
difference between a Yugoslav and a
Czechoslovak."
In June, 1948, I received a memo-
randum from the Army's Intelligence
Division saying that there was now
available to reserve officers an exten-
sion course on CIC that was entirely
new in character and approach. I ap-
plied for the course, hoping to bring
myself up to date in the techniques of
my old Army trade. A few weeks later
I received a bulky, military-looking en-
velope. Eagerly I opened it. Inside I
found an Army manual on military
courtesy and drill.
This is where I came in.
Editors' Note-This is the last of three articles by
Mr. Spingarn and Mr. Lehman.
foreign students. After graduating from
medical school, he interned at the Los
Angeles County Hospital, spent six
years studying brain function and neu-
rology in America and Europe, and then,
in 1930, came back to Los Angeles.
"Since then," one of his colleagues
claims, " J. M. has been rushing as if he
has a little less than twenty minutes to
live."
Approved For Release 2003/05/27 : CIA-RDP86B00269R000500050103-7
GIVE HIM
KP-
Nielsen started immediately with a
Los Angeles pathologist to make a com-
plete study of brain function. The two
men decided to begin with the tem-
poral lobes, the portion of the brain
just under the temples. Damage to that
portion- can cause aphasia.
"Right away," he says, "I realized I
didn't know enough about aphasia. I
had to read up on it."
 Approved For Release 2003/05/27 : CIA-RDP86B00269R000500050103-7
How We Caught Spies in
World War 11
by S7'E'I'lll; N J. Sl'/ V(;A1RN- icilh MILTON- Llsll 1I 1 V
The inside story of how some of the Germans' best spies were trapped arid
broken in Italy. And the tale of the Nazi agent who wandered into an OSS
mess, liked the food and drink, and remained with the outfit ... for a while.
ksetiel'ol'5th Army's CIC,Iwasresponsiblefor
-wen ring LheArinN against the enemy's agents."
nE Allied intelligence services during World
TWar Ti were a heady mixture of American,
British, French, Brazilian, Polish and Italian
secret agents. Of these, the British, who had
>racticed espionage since the (lays of Queen lliza-
aeth, were most expert. Whatever their personal
raits- Capt. Jack Horsfall, for example, carried all
is files under his cap and always began interroga-
ions by repeating, "I say, old boy," about live or six
Limes-the British intelligence was clever, jaunty
rid confident.
The French dramatized espionage to the hilt. As
commanding officer of the 5th Army's Counter In-
.elligence Corps, I'll never forget [heir memorable
lunches. Around a groaning table loaded with hors
I'oeuvres, roast pheasant and aperitifs, the French
brass reviewed their agents. Every half' hour two of
heir operatives raced in, helmets and shirts covered
with (lust. They came to sharp attention, saluted
smartly and reported, "All is well at the front, moll
?ommandant!" The French brass applauded and an-
3 ther round of cognac was poured. After these liaison
rips, I was always sick the following morning.
Our own American secret intelligence was em-
iodied in two organizations-the Office of Strategic
iervices and the Counter Intelligence Corps. Both
,vere green outfits. In Italy the OSS was still learning
lie business of being spies, and CIC was still hunting
r a bona fide enemy agent, to capture.
{;{tones Annahella von 1lodenh11rg, li (shown
wit Ithersoii),was 5rniaiiv'sleadingwomtuispy.
As chief of 5th Army's C[C, I was responsible for
securing the Army against, the enemy's agents,
whet her they Caine in by parachute, by boat, walked
through the front lines or stayed behind until the
Allies rolled past ti em. To accomplish this, I had an
out fit. of scholars, lawyers, reporters and deputy
sherif'f's, few of whom knew any Italian. In Africa,
where French is spoken, several of my men could
read a nal ive newspaper without moving their lips.
Now, in Italy, only the rare CIC operative knew
more Italian than "Boon giorno!" which means
"Good morning!" and is of little use in apprehend-
ing spies.
Facing our motley team were the spy masters of
t he German Abwchr, cool, methodical men who, we
imagined from the movies, all wore Eric von Stro-
heim monocles and had dueling scars on their bald
heads. At first, we had enormous respect for I he
Abwrhr. When we landed on the Salerno beachhead,
their agents had already posted the Wehrmacht on
our point of arrival and on the precise hour to expect
us. Just before the landing, in fact., the Wehrmacht
held maneuvers on Salerno beach, using the unfor-
tunate Italians as mock assault troops and giving
then{ a very rough time. For Americans making
their first. tour of the espionage circuit, it seemed
that the Abwehr was a brilliant, unbeatable foe.
Much later, we discovered that the Abweh-r was not
foolproof'. As its chief, the Germans appointed Ad-
miral Canaris, who turned out to be so unfriendly to
I-lit ler that he joined in a plot to assassinate him.
I'ahio Paginot1o, radio spy, was captured by (:IC.
acted as donhle agent, escaped was recaptLired.
The Italians served both the Allied and the Ger-
man intelligence. They were the only people in Italy
who could pass as natives and their personality way
disastrously split. In German-occupied territory-
they were disposed to work for the Germans as spies,
On our side, I hey served as Allied spies and spy
catchers. One of them, Maj. Cesare Faccio, was o'F
of my most, valued allies during the Italian cam
paign.
Major Faccio had served with the Servizic
Militare inforniazione, which was once the Fascist
army's intelligence corps- A professional, he didn't
care what side lie worked on and he knew flow to de-
tect spies. Onee, before our landing, he captured u
British agent in Sardinia who made the simple error
of smoking a British cigarette in a blackout. Familiars
with the redolent Italian tobacco, Faccio inmiedi
alely defected a pleasant foreign aroma. He followeu
his nose t o the burning cigarette tip and seized the
British agent.
Through Faccio, the CIC eventually assembled
corps of sev( my-five Italian counter-intelligence
agents. They were cheerful, pleased with the Amer-
icans, who made life easy for them. Whenever the3
stopped, they collected enormous quantities of
equipment-sofas, chairs, cushions, pianos and ag-
ing automobiles. It always took a convoy of Quar-
termaster trucks to move them.
Naples fell to the Americans in October, 194(.
Soon after our arrival, we were reminded again tha
CIC needed ~iett-er intelligence about the enerr:.y
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 Intelligence men grilling Mario Trelirio (center). t saholcur, In' was to 1u?Ip hIo1, up hcadgtarlerc of Field llarchal Uexaudcr and (,eneral .Marl: (lark.
woven a (,erninn delayed-action homb blew up in the
fov:d post office, killing scores of civilians and sol-
+tu?r;;. We needed good in!orman s fast. Many Ital-
ant volunteered, assuring us Chat they had never
bean ,iyrnpatt:etic to Mussolini. Even today, I can
recall oit?y o1,e Italian who admitted frankly that.
^;be was a F`a1SCist.. She was the toughest spy 1 ever
Tried k, break and she was only eighteen years old.
I ler elders, however, were frantically leaping overt o
t he Allied side as we advanced up the peninsula.
()in- nun in effort in Naples was to see that German
symlaI loners were kept sa fely away from he mili-
larry establishments. Some of them quickly ingrat.i-
nied themselves with (.he Allied Military Govern-
rnerit and hung on like leeches. One of these was a
suave young man named Renato, who made the
quickest. political change-over I've ever observed.
While I he Germans were in Naples, Renato served
i Lcir: ?1s lingerman, pointing out anti-Fascists to the
(~c-stapo. When I he German commanders were re-
quired to leave, Renato escorted them to the north-
ern exit of Naples and waved a cheerful "A III Wiecler-
seheh." Then he swung his car around to meet our
advancing columns and make friends with the Allies.
'A'leat troubled CIC was that, Renato suddenly
ur,x=d an chief adviser to the Allied Military
d'c,vernrnent. '' I~ot he's such an obliging young
rr(ainl" iI e mu titary governor protesl.ed, after we in-
Ierred him.
Clod. before Christmas, 1943, the most useful spy
of the Italian campaign was dropped in CIC's lap
;ind promptly spirited away by the British. The
Bril.isic called him Alpha-Prinio-Alpha because he
was I he first, radio spy the Germans sent against us,
and Primo because he was the first the Allies dou-
bled back on the Germans. Alpha-Primo with two
confederates arrived in Allied territory one cold
night in a small fishing boat, along with refugees from
German-occupied Italy. Dispatched by Ili(, Ahwchr
as a radio operator, lie had come to collect intelli-
gence on the Allied force and send it back. When
the small craft docked, our shore patrols called for
('I('. Under a casual in(.errogat ion, Alpha-Primo
had a sudden change of heart.. He admitted readily
that he was a German agent.
All winter long, Alpha-Primo sent messages Co
the Gernurns carefully prepared by top-level Allied
commanders. lie described new divisions brought.
into Italy. gave details about. Allied airfields and the
st.rengih and types of aircraft. Under British direc-
t.ion and with approval of the Joint. Chiefs of Staff,
he built up his deception layer by layer. Before the
spring offensive in May, 1944, (he Ahwchr had full
confidence in him and praised his good work.
Then, before the all-out. drive on Rome, Alpha-
Primo threw his double hook. In I he greatest se-
crecy, strong elements of the British 8t.11 Army had
withdrawn at night. from the eastern sector of Italy
and massed close to the 501 Army on t he western
coast. At this moment., he advised the Abwehr (hat
the 81h Army was still on ihe east, coast and prepar-
ing to attack. The Germans thereupon placed their
own reserves to counter t lie British, while the Allied
plunge cut through the weakened Wehrmacht de-
fenses likes dagger. Later, Field Marshal Sir Harold
R. L. G. Alexander said that Alpha-Primo had been
worth a whole division io the spring offensive.
Thus, I.he first respeelable spy caught abroad by
the Americans io t.Inswarwenf to the British Special
Counter Intelligence Branch, which made spectacu-
lar use of him. Unlike OSS, the American counter-
part of SCI, t he British since I he war have said prac-
tically not icing abouI their work. The OSS, however,
has lately been praising itself in movies, magazines
and newspapers. By I hose reports, OSS would seem
to have won I he war singlelicindedly, wit ii some
slight assistance from I he Air Force. From where I
sit, these reports still sound like unparalleled ma-
larkey.
Soon alter Lhe capture of Naples, ()SS took over a
lush villa, complete with swimming pools and sunken
gardens. There O55 set. up its headquarters and
brought on its agent;. Sinister characters with dirks
and revolvers jammed in their belts swarmed over
the villa. Although most of thern woreAmericcen uni-
forms, very few spoke English. In t he evening, 1.he
villa resounded wit h a polyglot of tongues and from
its dining room came the tasty smells of interns t tonal
cooking and the bubbling of wines.
One day a young German soldier named Hans
carne walking down the Via Roma in civilian clot hes.
One of the parachutists dropped on the Salerno
beachhead by the Germans, his mission had been to
blow up bridges. After his chores were done, Hans
remembered a marl friend in Naples. He went there,
changed his uniform (I ,,,,l i nn..l .,.. tl,.,)
Approved For Release 2003/05/27 : CIA-RDP86B00269R000500050103-7
 Approved For Release 20bi/
HOW WE CAUGHT SPIES would pick them up and grill there fur
hours, convinced they were Abrarhr
IN WORLD WAR 11 spies. OSS had trained there carefully.
Under no circuuastances," they were
((:onr~nu.~' I jrou, Pain 1.7) told, "will you admit you're from OSS
until your interrogator is exhausted."
for civilian clothes and spent. the golden When exhaust ion set in, the friendly
Septer_aber days and nights in dalliance agent would smile sheepishly and de-
with his lady. He was in Naples when Clare, "Me -(1SS!"
the Americans captured the city. Between Naples and the final drive
Strolling by the OSS villa, Hans was on Rome, the spies CIC caught were
entranced by the wonderful odors. He rather unremarkable Hired out to the
followed them into the piazza and there German Abn'e/ir, they lacked sutlicient
joined the mess line of America's best eni.husiasm or intelligence to carry out.
spies. Hans sat. (town with them and the simplest missions. But. in early
.rte. No one bothered him and lie de- March, 1941. 1 was called to ttie Anzio
tided, naturally, t hat. this was a splen- beachhead t .o invest igate one of the
did setup. He stayed on for a week, most fantastic plots of the war. The
gorging himself' with OSS food. Finally, Allied forces had landed near the small
;in alert. OSS officer discovered that hathing resort of Anzio against slight
Flans' Italian was unusually poor and opposition, and planned to strike out
he was turned over, badly battered, to from there for Rome. But t he Germans
('IC for questioning. quickly drew their reserves against the
Meanwhile, a well-known American beachhead, determined to drive it back
wrestling champion was engaged in to the sea. They planned it full-scale
various mysterious activities for OSS. attack and, at the sarnc time, they
Ilisinethodswere heart.eninglystraight- dispatched three . bu~r'hr sahotcurs
forward. On one occasion, according to with a mission behind our lines.
reports current in intelligence circles at The Abwe>hr had briefed its agents
I tie time, he encountered a group of carefully. '['hey were Michell Coppola,
1' 1~, ---to C,attani and Mario Tretirio.
r
,
Italian youngsters in tile streets o
Naples. "Hey, kids," said the champ They were to reach the Allied beach-
in his best Neapolitan, "come here'." head by rowboat, discover I he head-
Eagerly, they surrounded the massive quarters of Field Marshal Alexander
and impressive stranger. "How'd you and Gen. Mlirk Clark and blow it up.
like Io he spies, kids?" he asked them. The explosion was tuned to t ake place
You know, go through tlie enemy at t he same moment as a massed Ger-
lines and all that, sluff, good pay and than assault to drive the Allies from
plenty ofgoodl'ood?" No one dissent ed. Anzio.
"Follow me!" said the champ. For C1(', there were several lessons
lie led his little band to the villa, in the Anzio saboteurs. First, they imi:ule
where they fell upon the foodstuffs with us doubt I he sanity of the .4 bu'ch/ he-
enthusiasrn. It was a week before OSS cause neit her Mark ('lark nor Alex-
could get rid of Ihem, ander had ever established hcadquar-
Like CIC, OSS had much to learn. tern on fit(! beachhead. Second, it ini-
With a cloak-and-dagger approach to pressed us wit fl the wisdom of our
' af+ they declined to share t heir hard- British colleagues Signor Coppola, who
won secrets with CIC and at times the had lost, his right arrn serving with the
two outfits were at, remarkably crossed Italian air force, was actually a double
purposes. Occasionally, OSS would at- agent for t lie Brit ish. He led his fellow
tempt. to train its spies against. CC's saboteurs directly into lhchandsofCIC,
counterespionage network. rl'heir agents where they were hot h to ken prisoner.
iCualutm-d oar I'ner' IIr-1
Aw.avs looked suspicious, and CIC
Approved For Release 2003/05/27
'r' :I
B
lour lift of the new `Cfaastna.astc~ .l-oasrer says Merry Christ-
mas . . . and ntcaus it! For mart e~ cryone knows it takes a bit of
doing to snare this widely sought-for prize. ','our ettorts can't
fail to be remembered. Neither can the name that identities
AMChir,,i's tinest toaaster escal`C atteurioll. ~o wfaen ti?ou I>uS-
other' kill!
look for tie .. 10.istm ester "` n.une on Sour toaster .
JUST PRESS THE KEY
and :he Soperfiex toast
tlm orauto mater' lvd'iver',
perfect loa,t-vary time.
TOUCH THE BUTTON
- and watch thecrumb troy
.ing open ix runtly for
quick, r,a,Y rieaning.
LIFT THE TOASTER
- 1il y, .ofely, by finger-
fdYiny handles hot ore
plaay, cool to v-ur touch.
T l E NEIl1
CIA-RDP86'BO'026?Pb'OdtdbUS i 031 -71
 (!:u?li,,,,,tl l',i,u n,;)
Because General Clark's name was
linked with the plotters, his G-2
promptly called for a full-dress trial on
the beachhead. At, that, moment, the
beachhead was not, a pleasant place.
The Germans shelled and bombed it. re-
peatedly. While the court sat in session,
the enemy staged a bombing raid that
lighted up the beach and shook the
rafters of the courthouse. The Allied
judges, fresh from headquarters in the
rear, listened both to the bombs and to
the testimony of the accused, ducking
their heads and urging speed on the
lawyers. The plotters were quickly sen-
tenced to death and the court, ad-
journed. Later, in a calmer rear-line at-
mosphere, the death sentenceswere com-
muted to twenty years' imprisonment.
For CIC and all Allied intelligence,
Rome was the chief target. Preparing
for our entry, Allied Force Headquar-
ters organized a massive intelligence
agency known as the S-Force. It, was a
fine idea that failed completely. The
S-Force was designed as a co-operative
venture and, for the first time, all the
Allied secret agencies were brought to-
gether. There were about 1000 men in
all, including the OSS, the British Spe-
cial Counter Intelligence and Field Se-
curity Service, the AMG, Psychologi-
cal Warfare, Civil Censorship and both
Ru SH 1101,R
Broad beauns rush in
tud blithe) sit
In seals icher, narrntc
Fear to lit!!
-i:'191I?L It tU\I:'I"I' I)1? ' I'1'O.
the Italian and the French intelligence
services.
'Fhe over-all executive of the S-Force
was an American G-2lieutenant . colonel,
a man of military hearing and waspish
nature, who had little love for CIC and
less understanding. He drilled us in
proper military bearing, which, he said,
came first in warfare, whatever else the
job. He told its we would easily mop up
the enemy's agents, whom he consid-
ered a ragged, undisciplined mob. By
the time we reached Rome, we were
highly disciplined and thoroughly ex-
hausted.
Our great moment in Rome was ti nd-
ing the apartment of the Baroness
Annabella von Hodenburg, the Ab-
wehr'S most, glamorous spy master, who
had trained and sent through the lines
some of the best of the enemy's agents.
In Annabella's Rome apartment-she
had already fled north with the Ger-
mans-we found a treasure-trove of
Abwehrdocuments. There were reports
on the agent we called Alpha-Primo.
`[here were bills, accounts and tele-
phone-number contacts. There were
hundreds of photographs. All this ma-
terial we turned over to S-Force head-
quarters, where it, promptly got either
lost or mislaid.
In those first days of liberation,
Rome was gay and excited, and its citi-
zens shout ed, "Long Live the Allies!"
and thumbed their noses at the tie-
parted Germans. CIC rounded up so
many suspects that they were first in-
terned in the park because there was no
room in Regina Coeli, Rome's cavern-
ous jail. Ili Rome, we learned how the
enemy conducted its interrogat ions. In
the German torture chamber on Via
Tasso we saw the assorted equipment
cased by the German counterint.elli-
'I'III?: SYrt IRI) ' F\I':"I\(' ,(
Approved For Release 2003/05/27 : CIA-RbP86 002698000500050103-7
gence in breaking suspects-linger
screws, hooks, hammers, wicked-look-
ing knives.
We were inm1tressed and horrified.
Until t lie end oft he war, 51 Ii arnny C IC
conducted its interrogations wit hoot re-
course to physical fort ure. We were not,
only revolted by Gestapo nieiltods but
we also discovered I.hat psychological
methods got better results. Further-
more, our men were quite Unfilled for
applying torture. Gordon Messing, for
example, would never have been able to
stand it. A Ph.I). front Harvard, lie
spoke eight languages and understood
twenty. He was an expert interrogator,
quick l.o plumb a suspect's dark lies and
come up with the I rut It. At. 1 imes, Mes-
sing wandered afield, especially when
he discovered an agent with a particu-
lar Italian accent. he'd never heard be-
fore. At this discovery, Messing's eyes
would glow behind his t hick-lensed
glasses and he would order I he suspect,
to repeat a phrase over and over again,
so he could study I he intonations. Al-
though Messing never used violence,
this innocent t echnique sorncl.imes con-
fused the suspect, so much that, he
would admit. he was a German agent.
Torture, we discovered, never sup-
planted intelligent questioning. The
Germans, who mastered the fine art of
torturing Allied agents, often made the
roost, obvious mistakes in preparing
their own. In Rome, for example, they
stationed a thin, meek little Italian
with a mission as contact. man for line-
crossing spies. The Italian was ordered
to stand in I he Piazza ('olonna on four
prearranged days each month, tossing
his ring in I he air. The flashing ring was
the contact signal.
The little agent, however, was loo
frightened to carry out his mission. He
reported to Rome ('IC, who listened to
hint when he reached the head of t hc,
line that daily besieged their office with
usually useless information. After that,
CIC posted its own man-whatever
agent was free that. day-Jo stand in
the Piazza Colonna tossing a ring. In
the course o1 several nionl his of inten-
sive ring tossing, eight or ten Ahwchr
agents were capf tired.
Not all t he enenny's spies were so eas-
ily taken in and ('l(', was not always
foolproof. Ili the little town of Monte-
cat.ini, an Austrian captain named
Walter Christ.omannos was enptured
by Special Agents Furniss and Warren.
Walter's brother, Hans, was already
marked as a German spy master, and
Walter was immediately suspected of
Ahweh.r connect ions. Under sharp ques-
tioning, lie admitted that his brother
Hans was an Abwchr rnan, but. de-
clared that he, Walter, haled the Ger-
rnans-had deserted from their army
and was 1 rying to forget thc war.
Furniss and Warren were hot Ii im-
pressed and reported that the captain
was innocent. -That's preposterous," I
told them as I took over the interroga-
tion. I spent hours questioning Walter
Christomannos. A small, mouse-colored
man, lie told me the same sad story he'd
told Furniss and Warren, and I also
concluded he was inocent. We interned
him as a prisoner of war. Lifer, lie es-
caped, but. we were not. concerned, since
lie was clearly not a spy. fit Verona, a
fewmonthslater, Hans('hristomannos'
mistress was caught. She boasted that
Walter was not only a Lerman agent,
but one of I lie Aho ehr's best radio op-
erators. He'd been in contact. with the
Germans before and after we caught,
him.
After Rome, the Allies raced north.
Until 1 he enemy reached Bologna and
anchored himself once more in the
(C.m li,, flit!,,,, Pitch Ib9)
Approved For Release 2003/05/27 : CIA-RDP86B00269R000500050103-7
GIFTS OF SUPERBA TIES!"
LUXURY PANELS
Limited editions of Superba originals. The bold
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Superbly cut and superbly tailored. $2.50.
Other Superba fashion-first Christmas gifts
from $1.00 to $5.00. At fine stores.
 I:~: IA I., I111
(ehnfill eevd /'rvene /?~~,,, ~~~,-, Ap rovedFor Release 2003/05/27
mountains, the tight lug was fluid and ~aa ~ frn .'rl'aparlryrreerlo c l -`~llxrrlerrten~
hero weren't many spies. I n 1 he midst: lain-, I e aid, was an otfu'e created by the
of I has dri ve, s in July, 1944, 1 got. one of
! h Genevs, convention whereby belliger-
e most f antast.ic assignanents a G-2 ent.s could cross
over unloaded on into each other's lines
an unsuslrecf,ing CIC to exchange messages. As a purlemen-
operative. We had stopped for a few faire, according to tradition, I was en-
days in the town of Grosseto with 5th titled to be accompanied by a trumpeter
A rmy headquarters There Geri. Edwin and 1
13- iioward, who had weathered most of enemy not nto shoot.aI was also permit ,-
The he had moments of CIC as G-2 for 5th ted to carry a white flag The regula-
Army, went, back to the States on leave. tions didn't say how big the white flag
1 le was relieved temporarily by a colo- should be, so I mounted two double-
net as acting G-2. Like most G-2's, the sized bed sheets on a ten-foot, pole. I
new colonel knew little about CIC, also prepared a let ter for Gen. Mark
though he was a fine chap and good in Clark's signature, which would explain
Wombat intelligence. to the enemy what. I was doing.
One evening, t he colonel's aide called The colonel himself was fascinated by
in a frenzy. "The. colonel has a mission my preparations. But. before I could
or you, Spingarn,' he said. "You'd leave, General Howard returned from
better pay close attention." the States and called me in. He exam-
I'he aide outlined my mission. The fined the message I'd brought for General
winter before, while the fighting was Clark and he sighed. lie mulled it over
stalemated it Cassino, no man's land and kept muttering, "This doesn't
was bright. with white flags of truce. make sense to me." Then he bellowed,
The flags were designed to protect the "Why, for God's sake, Spingarn, the
medics and burial parties of both sides, Germans would keep you!"
who went between the lines to treat the "Yes, sir," I said. And that, f was
wounds-l and bring back the dead. At grateful, was the end of it.
first, both Germans and Allies honored Somehow, out of all the confusion,
he (-lar s, Then, unfortunately, the Ger- we still won the war of intelligence.
a ?ans b ran firing at. British burial par- Perhaps it. was because the Americans
es. A l r't.ish brigadier promptly not i- learned fast and, in the end, made
P.d (he e emy that he would no long or fewer mistalws than the Germans and
a e pe,~t the wt it e flags, and he took t.,,,wo no more than the British. In Septem-
( ~r t' soli' c a pr':'coa erwho had come her, 1944, we captured and broke down
nOt.ee his sector a ar the sit,n of tr
u
T
cc..
abu, Paguaott.o aad Giuliano Magini,
I'laut wa
s i~a Felr y, B y ~ July, when two of the Abwehr's finest agentso.tea Themy
the Allies were cr ~.;_e -g the (Grmans had been sc~ t (10- as a radi,
aaort h, lhe briuar 'c r s report finally and to 1.1'c '
inades
' a say look chgood
react ed I heBa stash I.1gbcer,::. xnd. The use e?f ~( ,
1$r ai4sh decided t h;ai. I . c, - = ( lrira a , c, look
r brigadier exce is ,,.t prospects -? double agents.
hadn't. played ern Let I h the erietny As in many a spy tunas. t he capture of
I to ha,t t a1>en t s l,ru o oers before the Pa inotto al~d Mccgini carne from the
(ionic n , hail Ime to not'fytheir units. sligl test of ( Ines. In San Miniato, a
'I'll(! or I\ la,-ope r t hirtr' e l i t he British little town near Florence, Special Agent
leel.m,, wastoreta.!--!w;titorapt cc. d
ntctier5 to 1 1 Henry Ingargaola, as former Louisiana
he enen:v. state trooper, was making a routine
The mission of returning these Ger- check of Italians who had worked for
mans was bucked down from the British the Germans. Ile asked one woman the
to our new G-2 colonel and from the usual question as to whet her she had
colonel to me. By this time, of course, noted anything suspicious during the
the front was no longer static. 11, was so German occupation.
active, in fact, that neither side was ['here was an incident which had
stopping to return anything but shell- seemed strange to her, she said. In the
tare- What made my mission downright Hotel Miravalle, she had been talking
imbecilic was that G-2, who should to a German officer on the day that a
have been aware of security, was send- theft, was reported. The robbers hadn't
i ng into the enemy lines a CIC man who been discovered. She asked her German
was loaded with secret information. It friend if it could have been those two
was -or should have been-axiomatic whispering ruera at. anear-hy table. The
that. you never expose a CIC agent to German officer, swelling with secret
capture. And this was just shoving him knowledge, mailed like a fox. "No," he
afato the German lines.
e/.urrlin Bead un /'n ee? I,-/)
%I1 right! Which one of eon tole) hint rc g ooing f ii,g b ,,~.
asere or a ride'!"
I.
% L\1\110, 1"'
CIA-Rb00269R000500050103-7
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ings ... the linings preferred by so many leading bus
and truck operators.
UNITED STATES ASBESTOS DIVISION of Raybestos-Manhattan, Inc., Manheim Pa.
Approved For Release 2003/05/27 : CIA-RDP86B00269R000500050103-7
 (('on !roue(/ front Pu iu. 169)
told her, "it's not those two. Someday
alter the war," he added significantly,
I'll tell you why not."
Special Agents Ingargiola and John
Burkel, a lawyer from downstate Illi-
nois, followed this meager clue. They
learned that, the men had left, two suit-
cases in town and made arrangements
to pick them up if either one returned.
Magini came back for his clothes, and
the agents caught him- Under a grueling
interrogation, he denied everything.
I)iscouraged and almost, ready to give
up, the CIC agents came to my head-
quarters to check our central files.
't'here they found Magini listed as one
member of an Abuu'hr radio team whose
,If her member, I he radio operator, was
identified as IF'abio Paginot.to. Con-
fronted with these facts, Magini con-
fessed. Through his confession, ingar-
rg,iola and Burkel trailed Paginotto back
it) Rome, 150 miles to the rear. At five
o'clock one morning, they broke into
Paginol.to's apartment and found him
in his pajamas.
I faked at length to both spies. Even
under interrogation, they spoke sym-
pathetically of 11 Duce and the lost
cause of Fascism. The British Special
Counter Intelligence at, that moment
was established in Florence and asked
the to send them any radio teams we
crn plured. I told them about. Magini and
l'aginotto, but I said I doubted that
they would be useful as double agents.
" I )on't, worry, Spingarn," the Brit-
ish told rte. "We've neverlost a double
agent, yet."
l+'or some weeks, Paginotto and Ma-
gini sent well-prepared messages to the
Germans, preparing for the double-
cross that would help the Allies drive
into the Po Valley. Then, on Christmas
lave, 1944, I heard the horrible news:
1^?;tbin Paginot,to had escaped. He had
UNCLE SAM BREAKS
UP A HOME
By that, time there were 50,000
prisoners in the camp-sick, starving
then, rounded up from all over Ger-
many. The food supply was exhausted.
I t has been estimated that the inmates
of Buchenwald were dying at the rate
of 5000 a day when American troops
tnally arrived on April 11, 1945.
" It. was the day before Roosevelt's
death," Herzfeld recalls. He was lying
on the floor of his cell, too weak to
move, no longer able to see clearly, but
he could hear the excitement. "A
Negro soldier picked :me up and spoke
comfortingly to me."
Herzfeld replied in French, the lan-
guage of his happy student days at
Mulhouse. So he was carried with some
Frenchmen to an army hospital. He re-
trained in that American hospital for
two weeks, and it was during this fort-
night that he made the mistake of being
too self-reliant. He could have relaxed
and left it, to the American Army to
look after him. Hundreds of thousands
of displaced persons (lid. But Herzfeld
was trying to figure how he could get
back on his feet again, and he knew he
Could get, a job as a dye chemist, in
France. So he permitted himself to be
flown to Paris with the first. group of
Drench repatriates.
All of these 112 men were very ill-
their desperate condition was the basis
on which they were selected for repatri-
ation. They were given a tumultuous
reception, with great welcoming crowds
Approved For Release 200310& :1~1~~-k)S'PV600269R000500050103-7
stolen a Bren gun, a three-quarter-l on
British truck and British battle dress.
He left behind a piquant note, descrih-
ing the psychological conflict that, had
overtaken him. He thanked the British
for his food and lodging, but, declared:
"What. I've been doing is against all
that's best. in Ise- I'm going back and
will never be taken alive!"
The Brit ish were desperal e. "Is there
anything CIC can do'?" they asked me.
GIC promptly put out its dragnet,
posting all agents on I'aginotto's de-
scription. One of the agents reported
back that, he had discovered the British
truck at the outskirts of the front. line,
bill, that Pagi totto had apparently
crossed over. r1'heu we had a wonderful
stroke of hick. A partisan operative un-
der CIC discovered hiin just, inside the
German lines. Paginotto had stopped
at a fartnhouse and asked if this was
German territory. It was, said the
farmer's wife. lie asked if she might al-
low him to sleep iii her barn fora while.
Of course, she said. And then she called
for the partisans.
After the case of Fabio Paginotto,
the British listened to CAC' with more
respect. We were invited to lecture
I heir agents on how to capture spies.
"In the tut are," I he British commander
gold me, "we must. work more closely
together. We have a great deal to learn
from each other."
As spy catchers, the Americans at,
last had come into their own. It was
well that, we had, for by now the Ger-
mans had begun I heir ca rnpaign of mass
espionage and there were more spies io
handle than the Italians, the french,
the British and t he Americans hacf ever
seen before.
F,litors? Notr Itt his third and final article next
week, Spy Catc'h('r Spingarn tilts the strange story
of the toughest Nazi age,' the Americans ever erica
tobreak in I talv antightten year-old girl, a 'turner
prof, ssion.;l ~cc ',teat,..
and Speeches. The exciternenI was too
much for many of them, several of
whom died within a few days. The sick
men were taken to the Hotel Lutelia
on the Left. Bank, well known to
American tourists-'t'hen a French phy-
sician, I)r. H. Bronsien, kindly invited
Herzfeld into his own home and per-
sonally took care of hire for three
months.
White convalescing, Julian tried to
find out, what had happened to Inem-
hers of his family, and what had hap-
pened to Francesca, whom he had last,
seen two years before in the public
square of Zawiercie. Julian located a
cousin in Warsaw, and learned from
her that every ol.her member of his
family was dead. As for Francesca,
there was no trace of her whatever.
So Herzfeld found a job in the Paris
laboratory of the Luxor Company,
specialists in dyeing fine leathers, and
there he is still working today. One
morning late in 1945 a friend came in
excitedly to tell hirn that a want ad in a
Paris newspaper was seeking Julian
Herzfeld. The little advertisement car-
ried no name, merely a postal number
in Brussels to which Herzfeld re-
sponded. Three days later lie received
a letter from Francesca.
Julian rushed to the Belgian consu-
late in Paris to get a visa, but this was
no easy inat:ter. With millions of home-
less people roaming all over Europe,
governments were guarding their fron-
tiers, and travel formalities were great-
est for refugees without passports.
However, Julian finally succeeded in
persuading the Belgians to give him a
temporary visitor's visa, and lie took
(('onlinued (m 1'n t 17:I)
Approved For Release 2003/05/27 : CIA-RDP86B00269R000500050103-7
(iV&'f#6VAP1DOA'T#EffiVT
It all ..Iilrle'd a 1115'!; o'_ill.
It 1'ai," (Ishcd I nr/(' llenry. `'shat/
we ,'ire !bevel ~rlr a lerrlrlili pr,,'.seItI r `
- 'Ihr It alh'ers,' hilfled 111111 llelry.
,caw (hell, Ilfe rl(ost h('(11111fill lull rn,ge'
l'Ir~tt s art Id('rl," ('.r(drlin(ev1 I arle
llcnry. -"U (''Ii ,sire th('Ill solrr't/1iFI0
IlieyII relwenlbcr Itorrl>i/v rill if Ihf'ir
lir('s -- (1 hoo(yu(ooll ill Hord/u.`
1 es! \\ hither it's a niece or
nephew', daughter or son. Al tether
it's it wedding, a -raduation. an
important birthday or even
Christmas-- the gift that will
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Of course, you don't need an
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ar:unlstand at cxeiting spectator
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Si,lttsieing trips! Fun after dark.
with all of the romauee and gay.
iiiticreions of tropical nights.
Set 1I.1, of Florida this 1 scar!
Ind reinemher! Florida's snu and
fun call be thorougl-Iv crtjo' el) 4111
nnv nUtuinal budget.
#OOAr rIV/OE,47/LOR/D,4
Ili Florida. 'I'o lie able to enjoy--every mouth of
Ihit' Fear -- the benefit,; 1hail go Willi Iiviilr in the
sunshine. I' Iorida'a tali laws arc kind to rnoderart.
fiscd intoro(-s- Many ollie,' economics re-n11 front
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Come 1a Florida -- to live! Fort'll di-cover that
lift in Florida is like a conlinuou, vaealion t.ith
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kf.IIL 7,11 Is Ct)I 1'O\ p) /) I 1
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PG",. ,,name ~, (ere, 4it. 1~uKe Inl(-a Ic,e h .,,ilk it
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.n err nod Nn___.