The Spy Who Changed History

by Svetlana Lokhova

  Stalin and Chkalov embrace

  His rival, as legend now has it, was Mikhail Gromov, Chkalov’s opposite in every way. While Chkalov was daring and flamboyant, Gromov was dull and thorough. Gromov looked every inch a nobleman, even if despite his background he had embraced Communism. But he and his crew were the Soviet’s leading experts with large aircraft. Gromov was a vastly experienced pilot responsible for the initial test flights of the ANT-25 and had already set distance records in the plane, flying large loops around Moscow.

  San Francisco was the goal, on a route named after Stalin himself. Chkalov was Stalin’s personal choice to be given the first opportunity. For his trip, the 35-metre plane was packed with every conceivable piece of equipment. Every emergency had been considered, and the aircraft was equipped with tents, rifles, and food supplies for thirty days. All this weight, it transpired, significantly reduced the plane’s range. But it was an experimental flight, and no one knew how much fuel would be used combating the winds over the pole.

  Only after twenty-four hours had passed into Chkalov’s flight and the plane was well on its way into the polar region had the attempt been announced in Moscow. The United States Army radio communication facilities all the way from San Francisco to the far north, Point Barrow, had been marshalled under a secrecy blanket to aid the daring undertaking. A message from the Royal Canadian Signal Corps station in the remote north-west broke the silence that the flight was under way. Then there was more silence for several hours until the first words from the Russians reached San Francisco at about 12 p.m. on Friday. The crew sent word that the mission was proceeding normally but did not give their position.

  The plane had flown almost due north from Moscow for nearly 1,000 miles overland to the Kola Peninsula, the northeasternmost tip of European Russia, and thence over the Arctic Ocean to Franz Joseph Land, 1,750 miles from its starting point. The course changed slightly and they headed towards the actual pole, 700 miles further on, passing it at 12.10 a.m. on Saturday. The report came: ‘Everything is all right’.

  The next report came at 3.20 a.m., when they were 320 miles south of the pole on the North American side and beginning their downward journey. For the next twelve hours, there was not a word, and during that period the pilot passed close to the magnetic pole, the obscure spot in the far north Canadian islands to which magnetic compasses point. The route also took them through one of the Arctic’s two great blind spots. Amid growing fears over the safety of the flight, the pilots finally reported themselves 100 miles south of Fort Norman, in the Canadian Northwest Territory, by 3.25 p.m They were then almost 4,280 miles from Moscow.

  Veering west across the Canadian Rockies, they headed down the coast to British Columbia, giving a few brief reports of progress throughout the night. At 1.11 a.m. they announced they would land. After a long tiring flight, the engine had generated an oil leak, and the plane touched down at Pearson Field, a US airbase in Vancouver, Washington State. Chkalov had been successful in crossing the pole but had failed in his mission to fly non-stop to San Francisco. Conquering the pole was a fantastic achievement but set no world distance record.

  The exhausted aviators tumbled from their plane dressed in turtleneck sweaters and big army boots. They wore skins fur side out over their legs and feet, giving an effect rather like that of cowboy chaps. Contemporary photographs show them looking stereotypically Russian. The Americans were impressed with their first sight of the ANT-25, describing it as a ‘huge, sleek ship with a silver gray body and red wings’.5 It was impossible not to notice the enormous wingspan compared with the length of the fuselage. The base commander, General George Marshall (later to become Chief of Staff of the United States Army), allowed them the use of his house to wash and clean up and to receive a square meal. They were loaned money to buy clothes. The sudden arrival of the plane had been a complete surprise as no advance warning was given to the Americans that it might suddenly appear at one of their military bases.

  The significance of the flight for Russia was demonstrated by the elaborate preparations. Shumovsky had been intimately involved with the planning on the American side. The Soviet ambassador, Alexander Troyanovsky, had been on standby in a chartered plane to meet the flyers wherever they touched down, while President Roosevelt and Secretary Hull were ready with congratulatory telegrams. Roosevelt was gripped by the news of the safe arrival of the first Russians to cross the Arctic non-stop; his telegram read, ‘The skill and daring of the three Soviet airmen who have so brilliantly carried out this historic feat commands the highest praise. The President is pleased to convey to them my warmest congratulations.’6 After fifty-five hours without sleep, Troyanovsky was so exhausted he slept aboard the plane throughout the flight to Portland. It was left to Shumovsky to handle the American side of the press arrangements for the trip.

  ANT-25 in California, 1937 (note wingspan)

  Shumovsky carefully positioned the story in the US newspapers. In a masterstroke of public relations, he invited only William McMeremin of the United Press agency aboard the chartered plane carrying the Russian official party to Vancouver to greet the flyers.7 United Press would have the exclusive and would syndicate his messages. ‘Engineer insists flyers scientists, not heroes’ was his chosen headline. He was the official spokesman and ‘on hand’ expert, hailing the achievement as a demonstration of ‘the world’s greatest attempt to build long-range planes’.8 In an interview given at Portland, Oregon on 20 June 1937, he described himself in fluent English not as a spy but as a Soviet aeronautical expert. He praised the three Soviet polar flyers led by Chkalov as ‘scientists doing a job in the development of aviation’.9 Such low-key statements were very much in the Soviet style.

  Maintaining the appropriate sombre tone, he announced, ‘Soviet pilots are not glory seekers, but scientists doing a matter-of-fact job in the world’s greatest attempt to build planes for long-range flying.’ Pointing out that the airmen had made two previous long-distance flights of over 6,000 miles – although these were Gromov’s achievements, not Chkalov’s – he explained that ‘the trio had completed first a triangular Moscow back to Moscow flight in December 1935. The second flight was from Moscow to the eastern coast of Siberia near Alaska in January 1937. The flight from Moscow to the United States over the pole was the next logical step.’

  He took the journalist into his confidence by divulging technical details about the plane and its miraculous engine: ‘In making their long hop, the flyers revolutionised the theory that an air cooled motor is best for long-distance flights.’10 The low-wing monoplane used in the polar flight, he said, was equipped with only one water-cooled engine capable of 125 miles per hour. Use of a water-cooled motor allowed the plane to make the flight using much less fuel than would have been required by an air-cooled engine, leaving space for more equipment.11 The plane, Shumovsky said, was only one of many types being developed in Russia, adding that the USSR had made much more progress in aviation than was generally believed. He told the press that the plane had been designed in 1932 and built in 1935 particularly for long-range flights. Its body was similar to that of a glider, with long narrow wings. It was streamlined to an exceptional degree, cutting down fuel consumption.12 Foreshadowing Lend-Lease – the US programme that would supply its allies including the Soviet Union with aid and materiel – Stan predicted that a trade route would be established over the pole from Moscow to San Francisco with a stop-off somewhere in Alaska. However, such a project would take a war to develop.

  Shumovsky explained to the gaggle of pressmen, eager for news, the background of the chief pilot. The son of a Volga boatman, Chkalov had joined the Communist army in 1919. He was only fifteen at the time. After the Revolution, he entered pilot school, making a special study of army pursuit planes. He also attained the state’s highest honour, the Order of Lenin, awarded for heroism as a test pilot.

  Shumovsky knew how to sell a story to the press. He wrapped his audience in the mysteries and intrigue of the USSR, informing th
em that ‘the present venture was guarded in secrecy at the outset’.13 Back in San Francisco, on 23 June 1937, he disclosed further secrets of the remarkably efficient monoplane that had carried the three Russian aviators over the North Pole; as the newspapers reported, ‘Performance of Russian Motor Amazes Yanks’ and the ‘Machine Slower But Has Greater Lifting Power Than US Ships’.14 American engineers were astonished by the Soviet plane, whose take-off weight of 24,000 pounds was as much as a fully loaded American sleeper such as the DC-3, designed for overnight use. The low-wing monoplane had one engine developing about 1,000 hp; American sleeper planes produced approximately 2,400 hp with their twin motors. ‘The single water-cooled motor which we have developed in Soviet Russia and used on this polar flight and other long-distance flights is superior to your American Motors,’ said Shumovsky dramatically:

  It does not develop so much power but is much more reliable. The plane can carry a heavy load because it does not go so fast as your transport. Its wings are built like those of a glider: much longer, narrower and with a different tilt than those of American transport ships. This enables the plane to rise with a greater load and fly with the use of much less gasoline than your American airships but at less speed. Our plane develops about a 125 mph top speed. Your American transports develop 200 mph.15

  Shumovsky smiled knowingly when he was asked whether the aircraft picked up much speed as its fuel load decreased.

  The single-engine aircraft was left behind in Vancouver, while the three men who had flown across the top of the world started by train for Washington, DC via receptions in Portland, Oakland and San Francisco. These parties were the forerunners of receptions to be held for them in the nation’s largest cities. Shumovsky and the Soviet ambassador flew immediately to Washington State to showcase the extraordinary feat and parade their heroes. America embraced the brave pilots. Chkalov and his crew enjoyed three weeks of celebrations in various cities, culminating in a visit to the White House to meet the President. The presidential diaries record that only fifteen minutes of FDR’s time was allocated to greeting the heroes but in the event, he enjoyed their company so much that with the help of a translator the visit was extended to double the allotted time. Shumovsky was the first serving NKVD officer to be invited into the Oval Office.

  The heroic crew were treated to a first-class ticket to Europe on a passenger liner, travelling on the same boat as the actress Marlene Dietrich. The iconic blonde and the Soviet Union’s number-one hero began a ship-board romance; they were voted the man and woman of the voyage. Newsreels of the arrival in Europe focus on the pilot, with the screen siren uncharacteristically having to take a back seat.

  • • •

  Evaluation of the flight in Moscow showed that the experimental aircraft could fly a lot further if the weight of additional materials was reduced. Mikhail Gromov was given the green light to attempt a second journey. He crammed the plane with fuel, removing such unnecessary items as brakes, food and safety equipment. To ensure that the flight captured the popular imagination, a much larger PR campaign was planned in both the USSR and the USA. The Russians were poised to exploit the publicity and goodwill engendered by such a heroic achievement, and the man in charge was again Shumovsky. In advance of the trip, he chartered a plane to ensure that he would be on the spot when Gromov eventually touched down somewhere on American soil – or perhaps in Mexico. He made ambitious plans to ensure that this tremendous achievement of the Soviet Union would receive maximum publicity and exposure with the US public.

  Among Shumovsky’s contributions to the success of the publicity blitz was his understanding that the pilots must be presented as good Communists but similar in all other respects to average Americans. Gromov and his crew certainly looked the part. Despite landing in a field, they did not appear in front of the international press in scruffy clothes crumpled after hours of flying. Taking a lesson from his arrival at MIT, Shumovsky realised the importance of smart American-style clothing. He arrived within twenty minutes of the plane, touching down near San Diego with three elegant ready-to-wear outfits in the correct sizes, ensuring the crew looked nothing like the unkempt individuals described in the 1931 letters of Gertrude Klivans. To meet the press the crew emerged from a farm shed in brand new clothes to greet a large crowd of pressmen, looking remarkably relaxed and fresh considering the long journey and the harsh conditions they had endured. Unfortunately, despite being experts in flying they had no English language skills. Luckily a translator and expert in all matters aeronautical was to hand; none other than Stanislav Shumovsky. For an NKVD spy to appear in a newsreel, other than for being arrested, is quite extraordinary. Shumovsky would continue to fulfil his public relations role, making sure he was on hand to answer any questions from newspaper reporters at each venue on the whistle-stop tour of America’s cities and aircraft factories; visits to Boeing, McDonnell Douglas and Consolidated were planned.

  Shumovsky with Gromov, 1937

  After a visit to the army air base at March Field, Shumovsky drove to San Diego with the crew. He allowed unprecedented press access to the Russians, and every detail was reported in the Santa Ana Register of 15 July 1937. ‘The Russian aviators who flew to San Jacinto California from Moscow were worn out by 63 hours in the air and slept late in a luxurious hotel suite.’ It was not until shortly after 10.30 a.m. the party left their rooms to start shopping. The flyers only ordered tea for their breakfast which was served in their suite at the historic US Grant Hotel overlooking San Diego’s historic downtown. Shumovsky disclosed that the trio were in need of clothing to attend a civic, army and navy lunch to be held in their honour. Accompanied by a party of Russian consular officials, they arrived dressed in soft shirts and trousers, socks and shoes; they had no jackets and only one of the trio wore a tie.

  Following the luncheon, the flyers left San Diego for Los Angeles. The pilots revealed to the press that they had alternated at the controls during their two and a half days in the air and slept ‘when we felt like it’. The navigator kept them true to their course in the strange terrain and said he ‘didn’t sleep a wink’. It was incorrectly reported that American food was no treat after the ‘feast of caviar, chicken, tongue, chocolate and unsweetened tea that they took along on the plane’. Officers from the US Department of Agriculture who gave the plane a ‘routine inspection’ confiscated some leftover fruit. Shumovsky told them the flyers had no further use for a half-eaten lemon the officers had found. This is the closest he ever came to being arrested in the US. Shumovsky, now describing himself as the aviation representative from Washington, DC, disclosed that the flyers had crossed the Mexican border and gone as far as San Cuente, a resort city fifty miles to the south, looking for an opening in the cloud. They had circled for four hours before finally turning back and searching, again unsuccessfully, for March Field, which they missed by twenty miles. The flyers had therefore passed over Russian, Alaskan, Canadian, United States and Mexican territory, shattering the world non-stop record. The actual figures were kept sealed in three devices removed from the plane and sent to Washington for checking.

  After dispatching a message directly to Stalin and broadcasting over a radio network to the Russian people, the flyers apparently ‘drew back into a shell of modesty, worried by the publicity. Chief pilot Gromov’s cheeks glowed, and he seemed inspired as he talked into the microphone telling the Soviet nation of their feat. He hoped it would create better feeling between the United States and the Soviet Union.’ The next stop was a visit to the Hollywood motion picture studios and a tour of ‘inspection of all airplane factories that they have time for was on the fliers’ schedule’.

  After the reception, the heroes were taken to the Consolidated Aircraft Corporation plant where many of the US Navy’s planes were built. Major Reuben Fleet led them through the facility to inspect a fleet of giant flying boats being built for the Soviet government. Gromov suggested through an interpreter that a spirit of friendly rivalry be encouraged between Soviet and America
n flyers: ‘I wish American pilots would reply with the same kind of a flight and try to beat our record so we would have something to shoot at again.’ He revealed that the flight had originally been planned to take place eighteen months earlier but was postponed because there was some doubt of success: ‘We were anxious however to make this trip before the plane and the pilot became too old, he said gravely.’ But the dour Gromov’s attempt at humour was lost on Americans.

  The next day the crew were paraded and feted in Los Angeles, a formal reception arranged by Mayor Frank Belshaw following a parade through the downtown streets. From Los Angeles, the plan was to go to Washington before sailing for home from New York.

  In the field at San Jacinto, the red-winged ANT-25 had been covered with tarpaulins even before the newsreel companies arrived to capture the success of the flight. It was now guarded by US soldiers to stop souvenir hunters from stripping it. The only damage suffered on landing had been a cracked fuel line. The powerful single engine, which never missed a beat during the long hours flying through a storm, ice, wind and fog, was not even stained with oil.fn4 Shumovsky used every possible opportunity to explain to American reporters how advanced in aviation the Soviet Union had become. Styling himself as a Soviet aviation expert, he informed the journalists in his many interviews that the engine was a revolutionary Soviet design. (In fact, it was a derivative of an American one.) He nevertheless single-handedly established the Soviet Union as a major innovator in aviation. Soviet designers could now sit at a dinner table with their American colleagues and discuss aircraft design on an equal basis. No American aircraft had been able to cross the pole non-stop to Moscow. The flights were celebrated as a triumph of Soviet ingenuity, courage and socialism. The trip had brought the American people closer to the Soviet Union.