by Amy Knight
If Gouzenko had had some contact with a member of the British intelligence services before September 5 and perhaps had already passed on some documents, this might explain why Norman Robertson knew details about Gouzenko's evidence as early as the morning of September 6. It might also explain how Anna Gouzenko, on the night of September 6, was able to fit all the GRU documents they had at their apartment into her purse before going across the hall to spend the night. Remember that in total, Gouzenko had stolen about 250 sheets of paper. One of the Ottawa policemen later recalled that Anna was carrying a “ladies’ handbag”: “She showed me her bag with everything they had taken from the Russians. . . . She held onto it all the time, Not him. Her.”73 Because the RCMP hushed up the witnesses and kept all their testimony under wraps for years, we cannot be sure of what exactly Gouzenko said and what he did during this twenty-four-hour period. One thing can be said with certainty: Gouzenko's decision to defect on September 5, 1945, threw everyone, including the RCMP and British intelligence, into a tailspin.
When King awoke on the morning of Friday the seventh, he called Norman Robertson, who told him that “last night's events had not given him much rest.” By now Gouzenko was at RCMP headquarters making a statement. Robertson apparently justified his decision to let the RCMP intervene by the fact that the defector's life was in danger. He appears not to have told King that the RCMP had been well informed of the Russian's movements for almost two days and had already, on the previous afternoon, agreed to meet with him.
The situation became more complicated that evening, after King returned from a garden party at the British High Commission, Earnscliffe. (“It is always that way,” King lamented in his diary entry of September 7, “the moment I take an hour or two off for social events, most important events come up.”) Robertson told him he had received the particulars of what the defector said to the police and what his documents revealed. “They disclose an espionage system on a large scale,” wrote King in his diary. “He [Robertson] said that it went to lengths we could not have believed.” Robertson also said Gouzenko's information showed that the former American secretary of state Stettinius had been “surrounded by spies,” who had informed the Russian government of everything that was going on. There was currently a spy in the Canadian Department of External Affairs who had access to ciphers, and in a Canadian research laboratory where they were working on the atomic bomb. There was a British scientist in Montreal who was a Russian agent, and also a spy at the British High Commission in Ottawa who saw all the ingoing and outgoing telegrams.74
Gouzenko's interview at RCMP headquarters that morning had been with Intelligence Chief Rivett-Carnac and his deputy John Leopold, who knew a little Russian. According to a top secret RCMP report, “Gouzenko was in a highly agitated and emotionally disturbed state. In fact, he appeared close to a nervous collapse. Because of this condition his speech was rather incoherent and his train of thought and expression were confused to the point of being extremely difficult to comprehend . . . these Headquarters were convinced from Gouzenko's actions and temporary mental instability that the weight of his precarious position would have driven him to the murder of his wife and final suicide.”75 In subsequent testimony before the Canadian Royal Commission, another RCMP officer who was present during this first interview had a similar, although less dramatic, impression: “Due to Mr. Gouzenko's highly nervous condition it was difficult to gather a coherent story. It was therefore arranged that Mr. Gouzenko would be interviewed later in the afternoon by Inspector Leopold.”76
After one more interview with Leopold the same day, Gouzenko and his family were whisked off to a secret hiding place near Ottawa. Amazingly, despite Gouzenko's confusion, and although many of Gouzenko's documents were in handwritten Russian (and thus difficult to decipher), the RCMP was convinced that Gouzenko's revelations were of such significance that they notified British and American intelligence officials immediately. And, only three days later, on the morning of September 10, the Canadian government felt sufficiently confident of the defector's information to issue a secret Order-in-Council authorizing the detention (if necessary) of British scientist Alan Nunn May under the provisions of the War Measures Act.77 May, who was about to return to Britain, was identified in the documents only by his Russian code name, Alek.
The rapidity with which the RCMP acted might again suggest that someone from the intelligence services had seen Gouzenko or his documents before September 5. But it is equally possible that a cursory look at some roughly translated items from Gouzenko was enough to spur the RCMP into swift action. The defection of a cipher clerk from a foreign embassy was, after all, a momentous occurrence. Gouzenko's desperation, to the point of threatening suicide, made it likely that he was telling the truth about who he was and where his documents came from. With a scientist passing atomic secrets to the Soviets, a Soviet agent operating at the British High Commission, and spies surrounding the American secretary of state, the RCMP had to act quickly.
Chapter 2
A MAN CALLED CORBY
They were the ones who “chose freedom,” like Kravchenko, who, following Krivitsky's example, ended up a disillusioned suicide. But was it freedom they sought, or the fleshpots? It is remarkable that not one of them volunteered to stay in position, and risk his neck for “freedom.” One and all, they cut and ran for safety.
Kim Philby, My Silent War
While Gouzenko was wandering desperately around Ottawa with Anna and Andrei on the morning of September 6, intelligence officers at the Soviet Embassy were also in a state of panic. As the NKVD's Pavlov recalled, “In the morning our military attaché Zabotin comes to me totally at a loss and he tells me, ‘Here we have documents that have disappeared, and our code clerk has also disappeared.’ And I say, ‘How could they disappear?’” According to Pavlov, “It was stunning news, since although in intelligence betrayal and disappearance is always an option, it is still rather rare.”1 Pavlov immediately notified the NKVD in Moscow about Gouzenko's disappearance, and the news was passed to the GRU. GRU colonel Mil'shtein claimed that his headquarters knew about Gouzenko “before he fell into the hands of the Royal Mounted Police [RCMP].”2
Pavlov's options were limited. He needed to get Gouzenko back, but he had to be careful not to cause a scandal in tranquil Ottawa, one that could result in a major diplomatic incident. As his first move, Pavlov sent a driver to 511 Somerset, but the Gouzenkos’ door was locked and there was no response to the driver's pounding. A few hours later he took the more decisive step of going to Gouzenko's apartment with a group of his men, one of whom carried a revolver. But the Gouzenkos were not there, and before they could finish their search for the missing documents they were confronted by the Ottawa police and forced to leave.
The final resort was diplomatic pressure. The next day, by which time Gouzenko and his family were in RCMP custody, the Soviet Embassy sent a letter to the Canadian Department of External Affairs, claiming that Gouzenko had stolen money and requesting that Canadian authorities “take urgent measures to seek and arrest I. Gouzenko and to hand him over for deportation as a capital criminal.” The letter also complained about the “rude treatment” the Soviets had received from the police at Gouzenko's apartment the evening before.3
Norman Robertson, ever the diplomat, wrote back to the Soviet ambassador, Mr. Georgii Zarubin, saying that every effort would be made to find Gouzenko and his family and requesting their physical descriptions. He also apologized for the lack of courtesy shown by the Ottawa police.4 As undersecretary for Canadian external affairs, Robertson would find himself responsible for handling most aspects of the Gouzenko case. Tall, with a “curious loping gait,” Robertson was raised in Vancouver, where his father was a professor of classics at Vancouver College. As was typical for well-bred Canadians of his generation, Robertson had gone to England for graduate work, where, on a Rhodes scholarship, he studied economics at Oxford. He went on to pursue a Ph.D. but gave it up to become a diplomat. Robertson was not
an admirer of Mackenzie King. When posted to the Prime Minister's Office briefly in 1937, he had “moved heaven and earth” to get another position. But King liked Robertson, appointing him to the key foreign affairs post in 1941.5
The Gouzenko affair was a tremendous challenge for Robertson. As an MI5 official, Guy Liddell, observed sardonically, Robertson “would do anything rather than risk any diplomatic unpleasantness.”6 Yet here he was, on the brink of a showdown with the Soviets.
Robertson was shocked to learn there were spies in the Canadian civil service and also that the Russians could have behaved in such an underhanded way toward their allies. According to his biographer, “For Robertson, worn down as he was by his responsibilities, the Gouzenko case was an unwelcome added burden of incalculable weight, and he became very secretive at this stage. . . . It was a difficult period, and his wife attributed the loss of his good humour and the increase in the number of his deep sighs to Gouzenko and related security questions. Dealing with people's lives troubled him greatly.”7 What would make things even harder for Robertson was that he knew personally several of those named as spy suspects.
Robertson forwarded a copy of the Soviet letter to RCMP commissioner Stuart Wood, asking (as a formality, since Robertson knew Gouzenko was in RCMP hands) for any information Wood might have about Gouzenko. Wood's reply to Robertson on September 10 seems to have been written on the assumption his words would be passed on to the Soviets. Wood admitted that Gouzenko had appeared at RCMP offices on the morning of the seventh in a state of panic. But he then embellished the story considerably: “Mr. Gusenko [sic] was in a very excited condition and by reason of this fact was incoherent and exceedingly difficult to understand. He appeared to be on the verge of a nervous breakdown. . . . It was thought in the best interests that if Mr. Gusenko's wife was to be brought to exercise her influence over him, Mr. Gusenko's condition of mind might be improved and that he would then leave the office of his own accord and return to his apartment.” Wood went on to report that Mrs. Gouzenko came to RCMP headquarters to calm her husband down, and then the couple were driven in the direction of their apartment. But halfway there, after a heated discussion, they jumped out of the car and disappeared.8
To give substance to this story, RCMP headquarters then sent out an all-points “confidential” bulletin to its offices across Canada. The bulletin reported that Gouzenko, his wife, and his child had disappeared with a quantity of stolen money and stated that the Soviet Embassy was trying to ascertain his whereabouts. A physical description of the couple was provided, along with a request that every effort be made to find them. Commissioner Wood even went so far as to send FBI chief Hoover a similar letter, but Hoover of course knew that the whole thing was an elaborate ruse to appease the Soviets and keep them off Gouzenko's trail. The provincial RCMP offices, by contrast, had no inkling that Gouzenko had in fact been given asylum. They engaged in extensive searches for the Gouzenkos, reporting back to Ottawa that the missing persons were not to be found.9
Soviet ambassador Zarubin had hoped at first that the Canadians could be persuaded to hand over Gouzenko, but after a conversation with King on September 10 he realized this was probably not going to happen. Zarubin, who, like King, kept a secret diary, recorded that King complained to him about “fatigue and over-work, because in addition to all foreign affairs, he was very busy with significant domestic problems, which the newly-convened parliament would be examining.” The fact that King did not mention the subject of Gouzenko made it clear to Zarubin that a behind-the-scenes deal to get him back was unrealistic.10
The ambitious subterfuge devised by Norman Robertson and the RCMP was of course pointless. The Soviets were able to confirm early on that Gouzenko was in the hands of Canadian intelligence after Kim Philby tipped them off. Philby would have learned about the defection almost immediately. On September 17, Pavel Fitin, head of the NKVD's foreign department in Moscow, sent the following message to the NKVD's London residency: “The chiefs gave their consent to the checking of the accuracy of your telegram concerning Stanley's [Philby's code name] data about the events in Canada in the ‘neighbors’ [gru] sphere of activity. Stanley's information does correspond to the facts.”11
Another message, from the NKVD London rezident sometime in September, read, “Stanley [Philby] reports that he managed to learn details of the information turned over to Canada by the traitor Guzenko. . . . As a result of these affairs the British intelligence and counterintelligence organs are undoubtedly going to take effective measures soon against illegal activity by fraternal and Soviet intelligence. Stanley was a bit agitated himself. I tried to calm him down. Stanley said that in connection with this he may have information of extreme urgency to pass to us.”12 In a follow-up report to the NKVD, Philby analyzed the evidence against Nunn May and gave the opinion that it was inconclusive.13
Ironically, in just a couple of days Philby would be reporting to Moscow on another defection – that of NKVD Lt.-Col. Konstantin Volkov, who was the Soviet vice-consul in Istanbul. Volkov had shown up at the British Embassy there on September 4, just a day before Gouzenko made his break with the Soviets. In exchange for asylum, he offered to name 250 Soviet agents operating in Britain, including one who headed a section in British counterintelligence. Fortunately for Philby, who was probably the spy Volkov was referring to, the British were slow in acting on Volkov's offer and it did not even reach the Foreign Office and MI6 until September 19. Philby had an emergency meeting with his Soviet handler that night, and within a few days, before the arrangements for asylum were finalized, Volkov and his wife had been drugged by the Soviets, carried on stretchers onto a plane, and flown out of Istanbul to the Soviet Union.14
NKVD rezident Pavlov had no such opportunity to get to Gouzenko, and he was deeply concerned. The defection, after all, had occurred right under his nose. It was bad enough that for the past two years Gouzenko had access to all GRU communications to and from Moscow. Pavlov assumed that the traitor had probably told the Canadians and their allies about NKVD operations as well. As a GRU employee, Gouzenko did not have anything to do with the NKVD, but he nonetheless knew how things worked in a general way, and he might have heard some specifics from others at the embassy. Pavlov had no choice but to warn Vasilii Zarubin, head of NKVD operations in New York, “about possible unpleasant consequences for our intelligence operations in North America.”15
Fred Rose, the Canadian member of Parliament who had been a middleman for the Soviets, received word about Gouzenko's disappearance the day after it happened. Concerned about causing panic, he told his contacts, “Lie low. Don't talk. Nothing will happen.”16 Upon hearing from Rose, Gordon Lunan was stunned: “When Fred Rose gave me the news in September that ‘one of the Russkies has flown the coop,’ I realized at once that life would never be the same again . . . I clearly saw prison bars in the future.”17
Rose told Lunan that nothing was likely to come of the defection because Mackenzie King would be reluctant to trigger an international scandal. And as time went on, with no reaction from Canadian authorities, Lunan began to feel more comfortable. He and Rose even went to the Soviet Embassy on November 7 to celebrate the anniversary of the Bolshevik Revolution. There, Lunan spotted his controller, Col. Rogov, who had cut off contact with him after the defection. Rogov was caught completely off guard when he glimpsed Lunan: “Seeing me, if not cheerfully at least normally at large and taking part in a social event, must have puzzled his programmed mind and suggested God knows what horrible possibilities.”18 Rogov and his comrades had dropped all their Canadian contacts and ceased attempting to gather secret intelligence. Now they were in the awkward position of feigning business as usual while awaiting instructions from headquarters, where their fate and the future course of GRU operations in Canada were being decided. A Damoclean sword hung over all of them, especially GRU station chief Zabotin.
The man at the center of these events, Gouzenko, had been escorted with his family from Ottawa by two armed RCMP
officers late in the afternoon of September 7. Their orders were to get the Gouzenkos out of town as fast as possible. Was Gouzenko in real danger? Considering what the NKVD was about to do with Volkov in Istanbul, perhaps yes, although Ottawa was not in easy reach of an experienced Soviet hit team, and it would have been awkward (to say the least) for anyone from the Soviet Embassy to be involved with capturing or killing Gouzenko now that he was in the hands of the RCMP.
However much she worried about her husband's safety, Anna Gouzenko was not worried for herself. While Gouzenko had spent the day at the RCMP, she remained at the apartment with Andrei washing diapers. A Mountie was there to protect them, but she nonetheless had no qualms about going out on the balcony alone.
Igor chastised her afterward for being careless. She might have been shot, he said. Years later she laughed about this episode: “So the Soviets would shoot me, what's the use of me? I know nothing . . . [Canadians] would be horrified that [a] pregnant woman was shot there on the balcony, on her back porch. . . . Even Soviets understand that it would be very bad publicity.”19
The Gouzenkos and their escorts ended up spending a few weeks in small and rather primitive vacation cabins on a lake about an hour from Ottawa. Anna, having become accustomed to the luxury of her own bath on Somerset Street, did not like it that the only place to bathe was the lake. They were also inadequately supplied with clothes, especially when the weather turned colder. In her haste and confusion when the RCMP driver came to pick her and Andrei up at the apartment, Anna had left almost everything behind, not realizing they would never be able to return.20 (The Soviets apparently went back to 511 Somerset at some point and confiscated everything in the apartment.) Making matters worse, Gouzenko was so terrified, he could not sleep. At one point, according to the Mounties looking after him, he appeared outside his cabin in the middle of the night, completely nude, screaming for help. He had heard a noise that frightened him.21