Ike's Spies: Eisenhower and the Espionage Establishment

by Stephen E. Ambrose

  WITH MURPHY’S STATUS SETTLED, Ike was ready to listen to his report. The two men went out onto the lawn of Telegraph Cottage. They sat down under some pine trees, facing the fifth green of the neighboring golf course. Hedges protected them from curious eyes. Ike listened with what his aide, Harry Butcher, described as “horrified intentness” as Murphy spent the afternoon telling his long and complex story. Murphy, Butcher said, “talked more like an American businessman canvassing the ins and outs of a prospective merger than either a diplomat or a soldier.”9

  Murphy’s story was full of plots and intrigues, proposed assassinations, possible coups, secret contacts with the enemy, the whole tangled mess of French politics under the German occupation, and bureaucratic in-fighting among various American agencies as well as between American and British groups maneuvering for power. The military operation Eisenhower was about to launch added to the complications. The United States, along with the British, was going to invade a neutral nation in a surprise attack without provocation and without a declaration of war. Murphy’s job was to arrange for the active cooperation of the armed forces of the nation being attacked!

  On the face of it, this was an absurd situation. It came about as a result of the inglorious surrender of the French Army to Germany in 1940, and the armistice that followed. Hitler had allowed the French to retain administrative control over the southern part of France and over the French colonies, the most important of which was Algeria. The capital of “independent” France was in Vichy; the head of government was the aging hero of World War I, Marshal Henri Pétain. Vichy was collaborationist, but that did not necessarily mean that it was unpopular, especially with the hierarchy in the French Army and in the colonies. Many French leaders in civil service, in business, in the military, and in the Church welcomed a semi-fascist government that emphasized work, discipline, and law and order.

  But French political life did not come to an end just because the Germans occupied Paris and Marshal Pétain ruled from Vichy. There were right-wing plotters who hated Pétain, not because of his politics, but because of his supine groveling under the German heel. Democrats and socialists also plotted against the government, while the Communists were beginning to form underground organizations that could someday participate in subversive actions. In the colonies, a few high-ranking officers were casting about for some form of support from the United States or Britain as a preliminary to their breaking free of Vichy. In London, meanwhile, an obscure French general had denounced Pétain as a traitor and claimed that he—Charles de Gaulle—was the true head of the true government of the real France. Most of the French soldiers who had escaped to Britain had rallied to the Gaullist cause. In the French colonies, meanwhile, the native populations were seeking opportunities to exploit France’s weakness to win their own independence, and they too looked to the United States for help. Finally, Pétain’s highest-ranking military officer, Admiral Jean Darlan, had hinted to the Americans that if they came in force to North Africa, he would be ready to throw in with them.

  Marshal Pétain, in short, did not enjoy full and enthusiastic support. No polls were taken, but it is doubtful that even one in ten Frenchmen would have expressed loyalty to Vichy. It was precisely this unpopularity that had made Vichy territory the first objective of the first Allied offensive of World War II. Churchill and Roosevelt had selected North Africa as the target, against the vigorous objections of Generals Marshall and Eisenhower, who wanted to invade France itself, primarily because the politicians needed a sure victory in the initial battle. This was partly for domestic political reasons, but it also served a purpose Churchill and the British thought was essential—“blooding” the green American troops. Far better to make them into veterans by fighting the underequipped, divided, unmotivated, demoralized French in Algeria than by fighting crack Wehrmacht panzer divisions in Normandy or Flanders.

  With luck, there might be no fighting at all, or only a few token exchanges of gunfire. The Allies wanted transit rights in Algeria and Tunisia in order to trap General Erwin Rommel’s Afrika Korps in a two-front battle, with General Bernard Montgomery’s British Eighth Army attacking Rommel’s panzers from the east while Ike’s troops hit him from the west. But although the Allies wanted French cooperation, they were unwilling to take the French into their confidence. It was assumed among the Allies that no Frenchman could keep a secret, and surprise was essential to success in TORCH.

  Murphy told Eisenhower that, despite these and other difficulties, he hoped to obtain full French cooperation once the invasion began. As a career State Department official stationed in North Africa, Murphy, in 1941, had worked out an economic accord (the Murphy-Weygand Accord) between the United States and Vichy. Under the terms, the United States sent food, clothing, and other supplies to North Africa for distribution to the native population. Murphy sent twelve agents to different locations in the French colonies to check on the distribution of the supplies in order to make certain none were diverted to German use. Murphy’s “twelve disciples” were the first American spies in the area, or anywhere else, for that matter, at least on a systematic basis. As Ray Cline, former Deputy Director of the CIA, has written of Murphy’s disciples, “For the first time … Americans listed as diplomatic officials found themselves competing for scraps of information in the cafes and casinos with foreign diplomats and assorted spies of all countries.”10

  Although there were almost no supplies to distribute, Murphy’s disciples were able to make valuable reports on French military dispositions and strength in North Africa, and to make a start on the job of organizing underground groups for subversive operations. Murphy, meanwhile, had attempted to induce General Maxime Weygand, Vichy’s chief officer in French North Africa, to throw in on the Allied side. Unfortunately for Murphy and for the Allies, Weygand showed interest. It was unfortunate because the Germans had broken the State Department’s code and were reading Murphy’s messages reporting on Weygand’s growing defiance of the Germans; indeed, Murphy’s telegrams were regularly circulated in Berlin. As a result, in November 1941, Hitler forced Pétain to retire Weygand.11

  The Weygand connection broken, Murphy established contact with a small group of French conspirators of the far right. A conservative Catholic, Murphy was, in de Gaulle’s words, “skillful and determined, long familiar with the best society and apparently inclined to believe that France consisted of the people he dined with in town.”12

  Those he dined with included a vegetable-oil magnate, Jacques Lemaigre Dubreuil, leader of a group called “The Five.” As described in one secret OSS report, Dubreuil was “a big businessman” and one of the founders and “Minister of Finance” of the secret anti-communist movement known as “La Cagoule.” This movement was supported by French rightists who, according to another OSS report, were “politically the equivalent of any group of stockbrokers in an exclusive Long Island Club.” But according to a third OSS source, the Ku Klux Klan would have been a more fitting analogy. The Cagoulards (literally “hooded men”) had staged an almost successful coup against the Republic in 1937, with General Henri Giraud as one of the leaders, along with some of the biggest bankers in France. The OSS agents also noted that Dubreuil and his friends had “rendered valuable services” to Franco during the Spanish Civil War.

  In early 1942, this leading collaborationist came to Murphy with the improbable story that his record was “deceptive, that he was actually a courageous, patriotic Frenchman who hates the Germans and Italians with an intelligent implacability and favors the Allies.” Dubreuil told Murphy that “he had arranged a carefully concocted police record of himself which indicated that he had been a pro-Nazi collaborator long before the war, and that he had placed this false record in files available to the Germans.” Therefore the Germans trusted him, which explained why he was allowed to travel freely throughout the French Empire and Europe.

  It might be thought that anyone who could believe such a tale could believe anything, but Murphy was convinced.* He set
about to cooperate with Dubreuil in overthrowing the authority of Vichy in North Africa while simultaneously preventing de Gaulle and the Free French from seizing power (Dubreuil and Murphy had come to a quick agreement about the need to keep the supposedly radical Free French isolated). Dubreuil and a friend of his, General Charles Mast, chief of staff to the Army corps commander in Algiers, convinced Murphy that the French Army in North Africa was ready to support the Allies if only General Giraud could be brought over to Algiers from France.14

  Murphy’s dealings with Dubreuil were only one of many secret contacts the OSS had managed to establish with French dissidents. Ike listened carefully as Murphy described some of the activities of his chief assistant, U. S. Marine Colonel William A. Eddy. Eddy was one of those OSS characters so beloved by Donovan—a scholar with a taste for intrigue and adventure, a war hero with an appreciation of clandestine and unorthodox methods. Eddy was the head of the OSS mission in Tangier, what the CIA would later call Chief of Station. Born in Syria of missionary parents, he was the only intelligence officer in the U.S. armed forces who spoke Arabic. He was a professor of English at the American University in Cairo, a published scholar, and a college president (Hobart)—no ordinary officer. When he first met General George S. Patton, one of Ike’s chief lieutenants in TORCH, Eddy had worn all his campaign ribbons and medals from World War I. Noticing the five rows of ribbons and Eddy’s empty sleeve, Patton burst out, “The son-of-a-bitch has really been shot at, hasn’t he!”15

  After persuading the British to give OSS a free hand in North Africa, Eddy set out to help win the war. His first plot was a scheme to replace the pro-Vichy Arab prime minister in Tunis with an Arab leader who was pro-Ally. In March 1942, Donovan made $50,000 available to use as a bribe, if necessary. Murphy vetoed the idea. He had assured the French that the United States was not disposed “to meddle with the native populations” and insisted that the United States would never interfere with relations between France and the native peoples of Africa. Murphy confessed that he was “shocked” by Eddy’s plot. “Nothing,” he declared, “would have enraged our French colleagues more than this kind of monkey business.”16

  Dubreuil was delighted with Murphy’s attitude, and with Murphy’s willingness to support his requests for arms and money. He hoped to arm dissident elements in North Africa and then establish a pro-Allied provisional government there, secretly supported by the United States with Dubreuil as the power behind the throne. Eddy and Murphy both backed this wild scheme and sent a detailed list of the necessary arms that would have to be shipped to North Africa. Donovan turned them down cold. They pleaded. Donovan said no again. Eddy then dispatched the first of thousands of priority messages that OSS and CIA station chiefs would send to headquarters over the next twenty years. Eddy said a German invasion of North Africa was imminent (which was not true) and declared, “If Murphy and I cannot be trusted with a few million francs in an emergency then I should be called back and someone who can be trusted sent.” In Washington, one OSS official scrawled on the message, “The war may be won or lost by our response to Colonel Eddy.” Such nonsense did not sway the Joint Chiefs, who quickly vetoed the project.17

  Murphy did not need to tell Eisenhower about three other activities Eddy had begun, because Ike had been involved in them. The first and most important was straightforward intelligence gathering. In the middle of August 1942, Eddy had obtained a report on French military dispositions from General Mast and other sources. Eddy’s intelligence gave Ike the first clear picture of what he might expect to encounter on the North African shores. In a pessimistic cable to Marshall, Eisenhower summed up Eddy’s information: There were fourteen French divisions in North Africa, poorly equipped. If they acted as a unit they would be strong enough to “so delay and hamper operations that the real object of the expedition could not be achieved, namely the seizing [of] control of the north shore of Africa before … the Axis.” Despite his extensive contacts with the French officer corps, or perhaps because of them, Eddy was realistic. He warned Ike to expect resistance in Oran and Casablanca, while the French in Algiers should be friendly.

  In summing it up, Eisenhower told Marshall that chances of getting ashore successfully were good, but the chances for overall success, especially the early capture of Tunis, were “considerably less than 50 per cent.”18

  Eisenhower’s gloom put the spotlight on the OSS. The Germans, potentially, outnumbered the Allies at the critical spot because German access to airfields in Sicily gave them a great advantage in the race for Tunis that would ensue the moment TORCH was launched. Eisenhower’s great advantage was surprise, plus—if Eddy and Murphy could arrange it—French cooperation. The OSS was responsible for arranging for the cooperation or, where that was impossible, subversive actions that would paralyze the French Army. North Africa was the testing ground for OSS, as Donovan and his subordinates knew all too well. OSS had excluded the British SOE from the area, claiming that it could do the job itself. Kermit Roosevelt, in his official (and until 1978 secret) history of the OSS, written in 1946, said that “success in North Africa was important, both in Washington for the future of the agency, and in the field as a demonstration to the theater commanders of its potentialities in support of the more orthodox forms of warfare.”19

  This “do or die” attitude had led to some desperate proposals, as Ike already knew. On September 11, 1942, the JCS had accepted some of Eddy’s ideas for covert actions, subject to Ike’s approval. Immediately, Ike had to deal with the first of many assassination plots. Eddy proposed to murder key Gestapo officers in North Africa when the landings began. Eisenhower refused to take the idea seriously and squashed it. He also squashed a plan of Eddy’s to stir up a Moslem revolt against the French, partly for political reasons, mainly because Eddy wanted 80,000 rifles to arm the Arabs, an impossible demand.20

  Just a day or two before Murphy’s arrival in London, Eisenhower had another contact with Eddy. The British SOE complained to him that Eddy had indulged in “unauthorized body-snatching.” He had, it seemed, kidnaped two hydrographers from Morocco, one a tugboat captain, the other the chief pilot at Port Lyautey. The kidnaping, the SOE charged, might tip off the Germans as to the site of the landings. Always sensitive to hints that the Americans were amateurs at making war, Eisenhower was furious. He demanded to know why the OSS had taken such action without his approval. Investigation revealed that Patton had asked Eddy to provide him with the hydrographers, but Patton had failed to inform Ike.21

  Marshall pointed out in a message to Eisenhower that the kidnaping would “rivet attention” on the Port Lyautey area. Ike replied, “I have not repeat not been consulted by OSS or any other authority. My orders to OSS representatives have been to do nothing in that area without my approval and that nothing unusual is to take place there.”22 Back in August, and many times thereafter, Ike had insisted that the OSS clear all operations with him. In this, its first major test, OSS had shown that it was independently minded and felt free to act first and explain later.

  Murphy was a great talker, Eisenhower a great listener. As Murphy spun his tale and Ike concentrated on what he was saying, the sun started to set. Lights began to blink on in Telegraph Cottage in the long end-of-summer British twilight. It grew chilly. Murphy and Eisenhower went inside for dinner in front of a bright coal fire. Harry Butcher had driven the other guests to the site, waiting until dark so that the location of Telegraph Cottage would remain secret. Butcher pulled all the drapes, a near disaster in a room full of cigar-smoking diplomats and army officers, plus Ike, who ordinarily smoked a pack of Camels after dinner (four packs in a day).

  It was a gathering of Very Important Persons. The supreme commander for Operation TORCH was the host. His deputy, General Mark Clark, was there, along with his chief of staff, General Walter Bedell Smith, and Colonel Julius Holmes from the newly established Civil Affairs Section. Three American civilians were present: Ambassador (to the Court of St. James’) John Winant, Presidential Adviser W.
Averell Harriman, and Foreign Service official Freeman Matthews. Ike’s political adviser from the British, Hal Mack, was also there, along with Brigadier Eric Mockler-Ferryman of the British Army. Mockler-Ferryman was head of the TORCH G-2 (intelligence) section. Butcher served, he wrote, as “kibitzer, water boy, cigarette girl, and flunky.”23

  After dinner, Murphy began by explaining the attitude of the French Army. He said the Allies should not expect to find an enthusiastic welcome, if only because most French officers “cherished their oath of fidelity to Marshal Pétain.” Murphy said he had talked freely with a number of French officers about the possibilities of an Allied invasion of North Africa. They were anxious for it to happen, but they feared the Allies would come in insufficient force and leave it to the French to do the rest. Ike quickly reassured Murphy on the last point; indeed, he overdid it. He told Murphy to tell his French friends there would be 150,000 troops in the initial landings, with a rapid buildup to 500,000. Murphy said the French “would be greatly encouraged by the size of the expedition,” as they were when he told them. Later, however, the French officers were bitter, because the actual figures were 100,000 and 250,000.24

  Murphy wanted to tell Dubreuil and his other French friends the date of the attack, so that they could be fully prepared. Ike shook his head decisively. Under no circumstances would he let the French in on the secret. Murphy pointed out that it would be difficult to arrange for effective collaboration if the Allies did not take the French into their confidence, but Eisenhower was adamant. If the French knew on Monday, the Germans would know on Tuesday and have troops in Algiers by Wednesday. Ike told Murphy to tell the French that the contemplated date of the invasion was February 1943.