Oswald's Tale

by Norman Mailer

  They would stay in Moscow for ten days, time enough to pick up their last papers and fill out their last questionnaires, and then they would depart again from Moscow by train to pass through Minsk once more (but in the middle of the night), and in fact, on that occasion, right there, indeed, in the early hours of the morning, way over there in the dark of Minsk station, where no lights could reach, Marina saw her aunt clinging to her uncle, just like two birds nesting, and Marina said to herself, “She made him come.” Then their train went on into the night, into Poland and, later, into Germany and the Netherlands. Several days would be spent on that train. But that was later. While they were still in Moscow, Lee and Marina and baby June visited for an evening with Marina’s friends Yuri Belyankin and his wife, Galina.

  The next day, Galina visited the American Embassy with Marina. “To be honest,” said Yuri Belyankin to his interviewers, “my hair stood on end when Galya told me she had been inside there. After all, I was working at an ideological agency, Central Television, and it was not that I was really afraid—the Iron Curtain had already opened a crack—but it wasn’t something that would help me to get promoted, either.”

  In the event, Galina, once she was inside, sat in the visitors’ lobby and spent her time looking at American magazines. For Lee and Marina there was, however, a small episode. Jack Matlack, the Embassy officer interviewing Marina for her visa, told Oswald, positioned most authoritatively beside her, that applicants for visas had to be seen alone. Oswald protested. His wife knew no English. Matlack assured the husband that he knew Russian. Oswald did not move. Matlack then picked up a few papers on his desk related to other work and began to peruse them. After five minutes, Oswald asked when the interview with Marina would commence and was told it would begin as soon as he left the room, whereupon Oswald stalked off.

  Matlack was impressed with the differences in this couple. Marina was humble and drab, a young Soviet girl from the provinces finding herself in a foreign government office, whereas Oswald seemed as much of a peacock as young Napoleon.

  When Matlack began to interview Marina, he soon decided that she was lying about membership in Komsomol, for she denied having any. Matlack knew this was highly unlikely and wrote as much in his report, indicating that in his opinion the applicant was not telling the truth, but then, since membership in Komsomol would not be grounds for denying her visa, he proceeded, in due course, after questioning was done, to grant it.

  Let us recall the transcribed KGB dialogue taken in the Oswalds’ apartment on May 20, just a few days earlier:

  MARINA: No, you can kill me, but I’m not going to do things the way you do . . .

  LEE: How ridiculous!

  MARINA: No point in arguing . . .

  LEE: Shut up, fool! . . . You won’t say anything. You’ll answer their questions, you [won’t] talk. You’re going to sit there and keep your mouth shut, got it?

  MARINA: If there’s trouble, you’ll have to deal with it.

  LEE: That’s all there is to it. It’s my responsibility. You just sit tight . . . [At the American Embassy] you should say: “No, I’m not a member of a trade union. I’ve never been in any Soviet organization.”

  MARINA: . . . If I’m a member of my trade union, I’m a member and I’m not going to hide!

  LEE: Idiot!

  As it turns out, the irony is bifurcated. He is right; she is right. Either method works. All those passionate fights over issues that are not really going to be contested.

  On the last night before the Oswalds left, they had dinner again at Yuri’s mother’s apartment, and Alik kept rocking June until Yuri’s mother said, “Go sit with the others,” and Lee said, “No, no, Sofia Leontievna, I like to keep my baby,” whereupon she said, “I’ve already rocked three babies; don’t worry.” So he gave June up, but he was very jealous. Yuri added, “He was kind of a male mother—that is: man; mother.”

  There are no photographs of that night, Yuri told the interviewers, because Soviet cinematographers had a silly tradition in those days. When they switched over to moviemaking, they threw away all their still cameras. It was a point of view. They were great filmmakers, and did not wish to be connected any longer to working with stills. It was only later, when he started to make documentaries about people like Shostakovich, that he understood one could make beautiful use of still cameras in cinematography.

  Galina remembers that Marina was very nervous on her visit to the American Embassy. Galina brought along apples for them to eat en route, and at the Embassy gates, before they went in, there was a big arch with two militia-men, Russians, big ones, standing in front. Galina’s paper bag of fruit began to fall apart, and these militia-men actually helped her pick up the apples. Somehow, in this confusion, although she didn’t have documents to get inside the American Embassy, she did walk in with Lee and Marina—plus the apples. It had not been her intention to deceive anyone, but now she was inside.

  Galina became the only person to see them off from Moscow. The Oswald family left in the afternoon, and Galina remembers this parting well. She and Marina began to cry; they cried terribly; it was only now that they realized they were separating forever. Marina had an ordinary little ring on her finger, a bright imitation pearl—she didn’t have any real jewelry—but she put it on Galina’s finger and said, “I don’t have anything to give to you, but you must at least have this.” Unfortunately, Galina lost it a few years later.

  From America, Marina wrote a letter to them. Galina did not write back. Yuri now says, “I’ll tell you honestly, I didn’t allow her. Marina asked in her letter what she should send us, and I was afraid to reply. I was still at Central Television.”

  They left Moscow by train on May 30, 1962, and traveled through Poland, Germany, and Holland. In Holland they boarded the SS Maasdam for the U.S., and arrived in New York on June 13, 1962.2

  Page thirty-one of the FBI Report on the Investigation of the Assassination of President Kennedy states:

  An FBI investigation of Oswald had been instituted on May 31, 1962, so that the FBI would be notified of his re-entry by Immigration authorities. The purpose of this investigation was to determine if Oswald had been recruited by a Soviet intelligence service.3

  PART VIII

  IN THE ANTEROOM OF HISTORY

  1

  Across the Briny Deep

  On the ship, Oswald does some writing. He has all the free stationery he needs, courtesy of the Holland-America Line, and he sets down answers for himself in expectation of his first press conference in America. He is living with the possibilities. Should he be forthright and therefore unforgettable? Or should he be diplomatic, hypocritical, wise? He is a man of parts, and the art of political life is to manipulate the manipulators. He poses himself eight questions, and all but the fifth reply, which turns into a detailed exegesis of an old wire-service interview in Moscow, are worth repeating. With the exception of Question 6, the column on the left represents his candid reactions and the one on the right presents Oswald’s notion of viable public relations.

  Q. 1 Why did you go to the USSR?

  I went as a mark of disgust and protest against American political policies in foreign countries, my personal sign of discontent and horror at the misguided line of reasoning of the U.S. Government and people.

  I went as a citizen of the U.S. (as a tourist) residing in a foreign country which I have a perfect right to do. I went there to see the land, the people and how their system works.

  Q. 2A What about those letters?

  I made several letters in which I expressed the above feeling to the American Embassy when, in October 1959, I went there to legally liquidate my American citizenship and was refused this legal right.

  I made no letters deriding the U.S.! In correspondence with the U.S. Embassy, I made no anti-American statements. Any criticism I might have had was of policies, not our government.

  Q. 2B Did you make statements against the U.S. there?

  Yes.

  No.

/>   Q. 3 Did you break any laws by residing or taking work in the USSR?

  I did, in that I took an oath of allegiance to the USSR.

  Under U.S. law, a person may lose the protection of the U.S. by voting or serving in the armed forces of a foreign state or taking an oath of allegiance to that state. I did none of those.

  Q. 4 Isn’t all work in the USSR considered state work?

  Yes, of course, and in that respect I also broke a U.S. law in accepting work under a foreign state.

  No. Technically, only plants working directly for the state, usually defense plants, [do state work]. Other plants are owned by the workers who work in them . . .

  Q. 6 Why did you remain in the USSR so long if you only wanted a look?

  I resided in the USSR from October 16, 1959, to spring of 1962, a period of two and a half years. I did so because I was living quite comfortably. I had plenty of money, an apartment rent-free, lots of girls, etc. Why should I leave all that?

  I resided in the USSR quietly until February 1961 when I wrote the Embassy stating that I would like to go back. (My passport was at the Embassy for safekeeping.) They invited me to Moscow for this purpose [where] the Embassy immediately gave me back my passport and advised me how to get an exit visa from the Russians for myself and my Russian wife. This long and arduous process took months, from July 1961 to May 1962 . . . That’s why I was there so long, not out of desire.1

  Q. 7 Are you a Communist?

  Yes, basically. Although I hate the USSR and the Socialist system, I still think Marxism can work under different circumstances.

  No, of course not.

  Q. 7A Have you ever known a Communist?

  Not in the USA.

  I have never even known a Communist outside of the ones in the USSR—but you can’t help that.

  Q. 8 What are the outstanding differences between the USSR and the USA?

  None, except that in the USA the living standard is a little higher; freedoms are about the same; medical aid and the educational system is better in the USSR than in the USA.

  Freedom of speech, travel, outspoken opposition to unpopular policies, freedom to believe in God.

  NEWSPAPERS: Thank you, sir, you are a real patriot!!2

  On sails the SS Maasdam to America.

  We cannot be certain whether an early draft of his political beliefs was also composed in the ten days he was on the steamship. The creed is written on Holland-America letterhead, but then, he could have written it later with stationery he took ashore. Still, his return passage would have been a natural time for such an effort. He has studied Marx and Lenin, he is not unfamiliar with the notion that great political leaders often compose their immortal tracts in exile or in prison or, for that matter, in transit in the tourist salon of an inexpensive steamship. In this manner, one is ready to assume, he prepared himself for America. He will return with the essence of a political philosophy for people ready to receive his message. If his mission to be an important figure in the Soviet Union has not been a striking success, perhaps it has armed him to come back to America with an even deeper sense of apocalyptic purpose: He will improve the nature of both societies.

  . . . To a person knowing both systems and their functional accessories, there can be no mediation between the systems as they exist today and that person.

  He must be opposed to their basic foundations and representatives . . .

  True democracy can be practiced only at the local level. While the centralized state, administrative, political, or supervisory functions remain, there can be no real democracy, [which should be] a loose confederation of communities at a national level without any centralized state whatsoever.

  In equal division, with safeguards against coalitions of communities, there can be democracy—not in the centralized state delegating authority, but in numerous equal communities practicing and developing democracy at the local level . . .

  I intend to put forward just such an alternative . . . what is needed is a practical and constructive group of persons desiring peace but steadfastly opposed to the revival of the forces who have led millions of people to death and destruction in a dozen wars and now, at this moment, lead the world into unsurpassed danger . . .

  But how many of you have tried to find out the truth behind the Cold War clichés?

  I have lived under both systems. I have sought the answers, and although it would be very easy to dupe myself into believing one system is better than the other, I know they are not.3

  So he comes back to America with the foundation laid in his mind for future activities. He will establish a political movement of the purest principles, the highest principles.

  2

  Homecoming

  REPRESENTATIVE FORD. When he did return, after having borrowed money from the Federal Government, did he ever ask you for any help and assistance in repaying the loan?

  ROBERT OSWALD. On his arrival in New York City, I believe the date to be June 13, back in 1962, my wife received a telephone call from Special Services Welfare Center located at New York City stating that Lee and his family were present and that they needed funds to reach their destination, Fort Worth, Tex., and the lady that talked to my wife put it to the extent they were unable to help them and if some member of the family was going to help them, they had better do so then. My wife didn’t know anything else to say but of course that we would, and this is what I wanted her to say. She called me at my office that day [and] I wired the money to the welfare bureau in New York, care of Lee Harvey Oswald.

  REPRESENTATIVE FORD. And that was the money that they, Marina and Lee, used to get to Fort Worth.

  ROBERT OSWALD. That is correct, sir.

  REPRESENTATIVE FORD. Did Lee ever repay you for that?

  ROBERT OSWALD. Yes, sir; he did. He had actually spent a little over $100 for the plane tickets and, of course, we met him at Dallas, Love Field, on their arrival there. The next day, even though I insisted he keep it, he returned what he had left from the $200 and he said he would pay me back as soon as he was able to and I told him not to worry about that, but just to take his time [and] he repaid this $10–$20 a week from his paycheck.1

  From Marina’s narrative: . . . I remember that we took a short rest in Atlanta for several minutes while the airplane was being readied for its further flight. We went out to take a breath of fresh air. And people were eyeing us askance. I cannot boast about the way we were dressed. And even June was dressed in Russian style. In Russia, children’s . . . arms and legs are wrapped in diapers . . . the result being that they look something like an Egyptian mummy. I am looking at myself now with different eyes and think what a comical sight we must have been then.

  In Dallas we were met by Robert and his family. I was very ashamed of how sloppy we looked. We were both very tired from the trip and didn’t have anything very good to wear anyway, not to speak of the way my hair must have looked. I am afraid that Robert also was ashamed of having such a relative as myself. But they are very good people and did not say anything to me; quite to the contrary, they helped me get used to the new country. Their very delicate approach to me and to our whole family immediately gave me a very good impression of Americans [even if] I felt quite out of place . . . 2

  REPRESENTATIVE BOGGS. Was the relationship between your family and your wife and Mrs. Oswald . . . pleasant?

  ROBERT OSWALD. Yes, sir. I would describe it as very pleasant . . . my wife and I both were just tickled to death, so to speak, for an opportunity to be with somebody like Marina and to show her things she had never seen before.3

  From Marina’s narrative: I remember that Robert suggested that I exchange my dress for shorts, since it is very warm in Texas in the summer. This was a revolution for me. Up until then I had only seen in the movies how American girls simply walk around the streets in shorts . . .

  Robert showed me the American stores and I was delighted that everything was so simple, and that there were so many things which I had only dreamed of . . . I imm
ediately liked the many neon advertisements. Perhaps Americans are used to them and pay no attention to them. But for me they were unusual—these gay, many-colored lights in the windows and advertisements made me feel good . . . 4

  MR. JENNER. . . . what did you observe, and if in contrast, by way of contrast, in his physical appearance and demeanor as against the last time you had seen him, in 1959?

  ROBERT OSWALD. His appearance had changed to the extent that he had lost a considerable amount of hair [and he] appeared the first couple of days upon his return, June 14, 1962, to be rather tense and anxious . . .

  MR. JENNER. Did he make any comments when you met him at Love Field, and did you ride in with him from Love Field to your home?

  ROBERT OSWALD. Yes, sir. We were in my personal car, my wife and my children were with me. We met him and his wife and his baby. He seemed, perhaps the word is, disappointed, when there were no newspaper reporters around. He did comment on this . . . I believe his comment was something [like,] “What, no photographers or anything?”

  I said, “No, I have been able to keep it quiet.”

  MR. JENNER. And where was that remark made?

  ROBERT OSWALD. At Love Field, as they came through the gate . . .

  MR. JENNER. Having in mind the changes in physical appearance, and also the course of events since the day of his arrival at Love Field to the present time, have you formed an opinion, Mr. Oswald, as to whether your brother may have undergone some treatment of some kind in Russia that affected his mind?

  ROBERT OSWALD. Yes, sir. Since Lee’s death on November 24th, I have formed an opinion in that respect.

  MR. JENNER. What is that opinion?