Deep Undercover

by Jack Barsky

  Our investigation during the many months that followed revealed that Barsky was an energetic, focused, and intelligent man who would do well in almost any undertaking, except perhaps diplomacy. He was advancing quickly at his job and was well liked and respected. An ideal spy! But what was he actually doing for the Russians, or what had he been doing for them? We were well aware that the KGB’s internal operations were in disarray after the collapse of the Soviet Union, but how did this affect Barsky? Was he still receiving instructions, or had he been put in sleeper mode?

  Months turned into years of investigation and surveillance. At one point, we even purchased the house next door to the Barsky’s to better observe him. We saw nothing to indicate that he was still active. I became convinced that if we arrested him he would cooperate. He seemed to be thoroughly Americanized. He continued to make progress at his job, and he had close friends. He seemed comfortable in his home and loved his children. I did not believe he would give up all of this and go to prison out of devotion to a bankrupt ideology and a failed state. But FBI headquarters did not agree, and the investigation dragged on.

  The Justice Department (DOJ) became another source of delay. Their lawyers refused to support our efforts to place listening devices in Barsky’s home. We wanted to know for sure whether his wife was involved with his spying operations. She had entered the US from South America, and her past life was clouded. The DOJ refused to support us because we could not show that our spy was actually spying. They readily accepted that he was a Soviet agent who was in the US illegally, and that he was using the identity of a deceased American child to further his mission. But because we couldn’t provide evidence that he was currently spying, they wanted to protect his “constitutional rights.”

  If this sounds bizarre to you, I’m glad. It certainly did to me and my team. In fact, I got the distinct impression during a contentious meeting one time in Washington, DC, that some of the lawyers at the DOJ considered the FBI to be a greater threat to the US than Jack Barsky or the KGB. Finally, after the FBI director intervened on our behalf, common sense prevailed. The Justice Department supported our petition to the court based on FISA—the Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Act. We were immediately authorized to conduct electronic surveillance.

  On a weekend when we knew that Jack and his family were away, we entered the house and placed microphones in the kitchen and family room. This was expertly done and the bugs were never found. Within weeks, a conversation in the kitchen between Barsky and his wife, Penelope, broke the case open. She was not happy to be married to a man who was not what he pretended to be. He was asking her to understand his position. At first, he couldn’t tell her who he really was or where he was from. He was in constant danger of being arrested as a spy or “silenced” by the KGB for deserting them. This told us a great deal, and we finally received authorization to pick him up.

  My personal relationship with Jack Barsky began with his arrest. Well, technically we didn’t arrest him. We simply detained him until we were certain that he would cooperate with us—which he did, completely. During the weeks and months of his debriefing by a team of intelligence experts, Barsky and I became friends. He is, indeed, a fascinating man, who as a young man embarked on what he believed would be a great adventure—an adventure that rendered all other human concerns secondary. As his devotion to Marx and Lenin faded and the world of human love could no longer be suppressed, Jack Barsky the spy became Jack Barsky the human being, and his world became more complicated and painful, full of regrets, hurtful memories, and doubts about the future. A lesser person would have fallen apart under the weight of it. Failed marriages, abandoned children, lost causes, financial uncertainty—all the detritus of a spy’s life—failed to crush an inner spark of optimism that continues to drive Jack toward the next new chapter in his life.

  Jack Barsky’s old life, growing up in postwar Germany surrounded by physical and spiritual destruction, was filled with the gospel of Marx and Lenin. According to this new religion, a brave new world would be built on the ashes of the old. The previous generation of young Germans had worshiped at the altar of National Socialism. Jack’s generation prayed to the gods of international Communism. There were no other choices, and like most of his friends, Jack was no heretic. As he and I talked about many things over the years, we discovered that life, like the waves of the ocean, has a way of wearing down the sharp edges of early beliefs until only the bright coral remains—at least, for those who have eyes to see it. Jack Barsky is a man who will never stop looking.

  This book takes you through many adventures and reveals much about the world of the Cold War. But the most interesting parts are about the man himself. Flawed though he is, and scarred by many of life’s cuts, he soldiers on without complaint, trying to be responsible, trying to do the right thing. It is a great irony, but nonetheless true, that our country could use more people like Jack Barsky.

  NOTES

  [1] “Dialectical materialism,” Encyclopædia Britannica, www.britannica.com/topic/dialectical-materialism.

  [2] Ben Macintyre, A Spy Among Friends: Kim Philby and the Great Betrayal (New York: Crown, 2014), 42.

  [3] “The world’s most beautiful metro just got better,” The Telegraph, 13 Apr 2016; www.telegraph.co.uk/travel/rail-journeys/Moscow-Metro-80-years-of-the-worlds-most-beautiful-underground.

  [4] C. S. Lewis, Mere Christianity (New York: Macmillan, 1952), 55–56.

  [5] See John 1:1-4 and Hebrews 4:12.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Though there were many Germans who contributed to the formation of Albrecht Dittrich, these acknowledgments are dedicated by Jack Barsky to my American friends and collaborators.

  My first set of thank-yous goes to two friends of long standing, both immigrants who made me feel welcome in our country early on. Joseph Contino, a Sicilian by birth, was the very first individual who extended his hand to welcome me to his world. Gerard Bu, who fled to the US from Cuba, taught me how to dream and reignited my ambition to be the best I could be.

  Had it not been for Joe Reilly’s humanity and his keen insight into my personality, I might have been separated from my family and deported to a land that was no longer my own. When Joe retired, he handed the baton to another FBI special agent, who did not rest until all hurdles had been cleared and I could finally call myself a proud citizen of the United States of America.

  Chelsea’s stubborn determination is the reason that I now have an extended family that reaches across the Atlantic. And then there is Richard, my brother-in-law. He believed in my story from the moment he heard it, and he got the ball rolling. Without Richard this book would probably not have been written.

  Susanne Koelbl from Der Spiegel spent hours digging into me without mercy, forcing me to honestly come to terms with all aspects of my past. Draggan Mihailovich of 60 Minutes continued the grilling. He told my story with integrity, compassion, and excellence.

  This book would not have been possible were it not for my agent Eric Myers of Dystel, Goderich, and Bourret. He not only discovered me, but he also taught me the fundamentals of writing a memoir. His tireless work on the book proposal and his willingness to act as a sounding board throughout the entire creative process is much appreciated.

  I was lucky to be able to work with two excellent writers: Cindy Coloma, my collaborator, and Dave Lindstedt, my editor. Both worked hard to meet almost impossible deadlines, particularly in light of the fact that I threw an enormous amount of raw material at them. Cindy breathed life into my story, and Dave used his outstanding talents to create a cohesive tale.

  I would like to express my gratitude to the staff at Tyndale Momentum—beginning with executive publisher Jan Long Harris and continuing with associate publisher Sarah Atkinson, senior marketing director Nancy Clausen, acquisitions editor Jillian Schlossberg, “chief hand holder” Sharon Leavitt, and the many others who worked behind the scenes. This team represents true excellence, something so rare that it must be cherished. Because
of the warmth and caring this team has shown me at all times, I now consider Tyndale Momentum part of my extended family.

  But in the end, it is my lovely wife, Shawna, who deserves the most recognition. She was a beacon of light during my implausible spiritual journey, and she puts up with this occasionally grumpy German, who has trouble dealing with tremendous stress at an age when most of his contemporaries are sailing happily into retirement. Thank you, my darling!

  And may God bless you all!

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  JACK BARSKY was born, raised, and educated in the former German Democratic Republic (East Germany). He started a brief career as a college professor, teaching chemistry and math at Friedrich Schiller University in Jena. His life took a sharp turn when he was recruited by the KGB for an undercover mission. After four and a half years of training in Berlin and Moscow, he was launched on an undercover assignment into the United States.

  Jack created an American identity for himself and went on to become an ordinary member of American society. After a two-year stint as a bike messenger in Manhattan, Jack entered Baruch College, graduating three years later with a degree in business administration. He started his professional career as a computer programmer but soon advanced into the ranks of management and executive management.

  Jack unilaterally severed his relations with the KGB in 1988 and was captured by the FBI in 1997. After a lengthy debriefing process, Jack and his family were allowed to stay in the United States. Jack became a Christian in 2007 and was baptized in March 2008. He became an American citizen in 2014. In the spring of 2015, 60 Minutes ran a story on Jack’s unusual life. Subsequently, he decided to retire from corporate life and concentrate on his book and public appearances.

  Jack has two adult sons in Germany and an adult son and daughter in the United States. He lives with his wife, Shawna, and their five-year-old daughter, Trinity, in Covington, Georgia.

  Me with my parents, Judith and Karl-Heinz Dittrich. East Germany was extremely impoverished during my childhood—I don’t know how I managed to be such a chunky baby.

  My brother Hans-Günther, me, and a friend (L-R) near our home in Bad Muskau. We often spent our days running around and practicing shots with a BB gun.

  At twenty-three, I was filled with optimism and hopes for a grand future.

  Rosi, my first real love.

  My mother celebrating her fiftieth birthday with her sons (Hans-Günther is on the left). I had no idea that this would be one of the last times I ever saw my mother.

  When I first arrived in New York, I lived in Woodside, Queens. My apartment—which I decorated myself—was small, but it was home.

  My son Günther with my mother, 1974. I was already in Berlin and missed many such moments that a father should be there to treasure.

  During my mother’s trip to Moscow, she persuaded Sergej and me to take a photo with her. Unbeknownst to her, this was absolutely prohibited for KGB spies, but we couldn’t talk her out of it without blowing our cover.

  Hiding in plain sight: Six years after my arrival in the United States, I made it into the professional ranks as a computer programmer at MetLife. My colleagues were smart and funny—and I was surprised to find myself making real friends in America.

  One of the phony letters I handwrote for the KGB to send to my mother

  while I was undercover

  Me with newborn Chelsea, 1987. Cute as a button, she changed my life forever the minute she was born.

  Two of my beautiful children, Jessie and Chelsea, at our home in Mount Bethel.

  Little did I know that the FBI had bought the house next door to me in Mount Bethel, PA. They assigned two agents to live there and spy on everything I did. This is Joe Reilly, the man who ultimately apprehended me.

  October 2014: Returning to Berlin for the first time since my “death.” I was worried about getting through customs—after all, there could have been an arrest warrant for me.

  Revisiting the site of the failed dead-drop operation on Staten Island. Soon after that attempt, I decided to cut my ties with the KGB.

  Me with my two best friends from high school and college, Günter (L) and Helmut (R). I didn’t know at the time that they, too, had been recruited and had worked for the Stasi, the East German secret police.

  All of my adult children with me at Tegel Airport in Berlin in 2015. This was the first time all five of us had been together—it was a very special time. L-R: Günther, Chelsea, me, Matthias, Jessie.

  In April 2015, I returned to Jena with my children and a 60 Minutes news crew.

  Here, Steve Kroft interviews us near the restaurant Die Sonne, where

  my career as a spy began. L-R: Jessie, me, Chelsea, and Steve Kroft

  Marrying Shawna in 2009

  My beautiful wife with our newborn daughter, Trinity. This is one of my favorite photos—the love between mother and child is so evident.

  Shawna, Trinity, and me. Trinity is spunky and sweet—

  all the best parts of her mother and me.