On December 21, Kuklinski collected fifteen rolls of film containing his latest intelligence―thirty-four documents running more than 450 pages.
All day there had been a light fog and a steady drizzle. Kuklinski drove to the exchange site, but concluded that the poor visibility made it too risky. The next day there was a broad shakeup in the Defense Ministry, with a group of hard-liners assuming new positions. Kuklinski wrote another note to the CIA saying that the “preparations for pushing the proverbial ‘last button’” of a Soviet invasion had been delayed.
Among the documents Kuklinski delivered in an exchange on December 23 was a secret agreement between Poland and the Soviet Union dating to the 1950s, detailing the numbers, locations, and movements of Soviet troops based in Poland. There was also a bulky attachment of more than 100 maps, with handwritten notations giving more details, including barracks locations, patrol boundaries, and the communications equipment the troops were allowed to possess.
In the exchange Kuklinski received a letter from the CIA, which thanked him for the invasion plans he had left in the snow.
Your information was of extraordinary value and timeliness. Upon receipt of it and following translation, it was immediately hand-carried to the President. Further, your report played a very important role in U.S. Government decisions and actions during the following several days.
We again thank you for your devotion and contribution to our mutual cause. We wish there were some way we could lighten the burdens you carry during this critical period.
You are constantly in our thoughts.
Your friends
9
PREPARING to Crush SOLIDARITY
THE SOVIET DIVISION had long felt there was a need to develop a way for sources in denied areas to pass timely and perishable intelligence more quickly and securely. Car passes were scheduled too infrequently to be useful in crises, and the thirty-six-hour turnaround time for a dead drop and the signals involved were too unwieldy. But now Discus was ready. Langley had developed a compact, short-range, two-way transmitter that could send encrypted messages in electronic bursts. The agency built a version for the Gull operation and code-named it “Iskra” (
spark
in Russian and a play on the title of Lenin’s journal, “Iskra”).
The Soviet Division sent an Iskra and twenty pages of instructions to Warsaw Station and told the officers to get it to Kuklinski as soon as possible. In a letter prepared for Kuklinski, the CIA said the Iskra could be used to send “information of extraordinary importance and urgency (for example, imminent state of war, Soviet intervention, personal danger to yourself because of your activities) that cannot wait even for a few hours.”
For its time, the Iskra was a major advance in miniaturization. The size of a pack of cigarettes, it weighed about a half pound and had a keyboard and memory. Kuklinski could type in a message at home, place the device in his pocket, and carry it somewhere else. There, he could push the transmission button without removing the Iskra from his pocket. The device had a small window through which a single line of text could be read, from an outgoing or incoming message. If he transmitted directly into the embassy, an alarm would sound in Warsaw Station. As a rule, Kuklinski was asked to leave a signal in the morning that he would transmit in the night, and an officer would take another Iskra outside to receive the message. The CIA did not want Kuklinski to transmit too often into the embassy, fearing that the SB was monitoring the compound for electronic transmissions and could pinpoint the sender’s location.
Kuklinski received the Iskra soon after leaving the message in the snow in December 1980. Not long after, he learned from a neighbor, General Wladyslaw Hermaszewski, that a Soviet-inspired conspiracy was developing among hard-line Polish officials who wanted to replace Jaruzelski and Kania. Kuklinski tried to convey the information, carefully typing a message into the Iskra, but he could not get it to work.
On January 2, before leaving for Moscow on a short trip with Siwicki, Kuklinski requested an unscheduled car exchange and returned the Iskra, along with a somewhat teasing note: “The indicators begin to blink a few seconds after I turn the power on,” he wrote. “Despite many attempts to turn the power off and then on again, and changing the batteries for new ones, this phenomenon keeps occurring. The set is marvelous. The instructions are clear. Now if it would only work.”
Although the plot against Jaruzelski and Kania did not develop, Hermaszewski remained a good source of information about Soviet intentions and plans. Kuklinski’s bond with him was more than just professional. Although Bogdan’s romance with the general’s daughter, Grazyna, had cooled, Kuklinski and Hermaszewski were still neighbors on Rajcow Street and friends. Hermaszewski had also proposed that Kuklinski join him and about twenty officers in the purchase of property in Wiazowna, a village southeast of Warsaw. They intended to subdivide the land and build summer homes for their families. Kuklinski liked the idea of having some land in the country, where he could hide film and other supplies. He hesitated when he learned that among the participants were Poland’s chief military prosecutor and other government officials, but he decided to buy his share, which he then resold to his friend Roman Barszcz.
Kuklinski used the proceeds to help his son Bogdan buy a twenty-two-acre farm a short drive away. Without Bogdan’s knowledge, Kuklinski decided to use some parts of the property as a hiding place for his clandestine activity. The property, which was long and narrow and surrounded by a fence, was crossed by two country roads and filled with hundreds of trees. There was also a dilapidated farmhouse in which an elderly woman lived (she had the right to reside there until she died). Without her knowledge as well, Kuklinski created a hiding place behind some bricks in an outer wall of the house, where he was able to secrete film rolls, cameras, and even some of his writings. He then moved the bricks back into position, sealed them with a filler material, and smeared the outside with dirt. (The bricks could easily be pushed aside and resealed when necessary.) The house was not visible from the road, and the wall where he created the space was shielded by bushes. The property also had a tall barn, where Kuklinski hid the sheet of microfilm given to him by the CIA that listed the locations of sequence of operational sites. Over time, Kuklinski said, the property became an important facilitator for the operation.
Bogdan, meanwhile, who had finally given up his dream of medical school, took some agriculture courses and moved into a trailer on the farm. He expanded a small apple orchard, built an irrigation system, raised rabbits for sale, and assembled motorcycles that he sold to collectors in West Germany.
Bogdan had also fallen in love with a woman he had met in 1979 in a popular Warsaw discotheque called The Barn. Iza was twenty-three years old, had a master’s degree in microbiology, and worked as a researcher in a government institute studying the production of protein. Slim with large blue eyes and brown hair that brushed her shoulders, Iza was an ardent Solidarity supporter and helped to deliver underground newspapers and magazines. She was aware that Bogdan’s father held a senior military post, yet she felt at ease at their home, even when she discussed politics. Iza was unsparing in her criticism of the regime, yet Kuklinski always listened patiently, never taking offense.
Langley sent another Iskra to Kuklinski, and on January 21, at 10:00 P.M., Kuklinski successfully used it for the first time to transmit a message about new plans to use troops to blockade cities and naval forces to blockade the seacoast and ports.
The highest party-government circles appear to be resolved to employ directly the Polish military for internal settlement. . . . On Jan. 20, the commanders of the military districts and of the branches of the armed forces were summoned to the General Staff. In special rooms, isolated, they are working out plans for the use of the military in the event of martial law.
The Soviet Division chief cabled a congratulatory message to Warsaw Station for its successful use of the Iskra. “I hope this is the first of many, many more to come,” he wrote. On January 23, Langley cabled Warsaw to say that Kuklinski’s message had been placed in the “President’s Daily Brief,” the highly classified intelligence document provided to the president each morning.
On January 29, Kuklinski transmitted his second Iskra message, with more details about the military’s role in “the political resolution of the crisis” and some rumors that Jaruzelski might be promoted to prime minister. “Gull obviously likes his new toy,” Langley cabled Warsaw.
In early February, Kuklinski learned that two dozen Soviet generals had arrived in Poland for an unannounced five-day visit, ostensibly to prepare for a new military exercise, “Soyuz 81,” which was to begin in the spring. But it was clear that the underlying mission was to sound out Polish officers about the evolving crisis. Individual Polish commanders were summoned to meetings with the Soviets, who also visited military units around the country. The encounters were tense. In Wesola, a deputy of Kulikov’s asked a Polish regimental commander what he would do if he had to remove strikers from a local plant. General Siwicki had peremptorily interrupted, saying that such a question should be directed to him. The two men got into a shouting match.
On Monday, February 9, Jaruzelski was promoted to prime minister, replacing Pinkowski. In one of his first acts, he ordered a secret war game to be held to rehearse the implementation of a crackdown. Kuklinski transmitted another message that night at 10:29. “Hurried preparations are being carried out to introduce martial law,” he wrote.
Conclusions drawn from this exercise will be presented to Kania and Jaruzelski the following day. It is assumed in the plans that 12 hours before introducing the state of martial law, security forces will conduct a special operation arresting approximately 200 activists [in Warsaw] of the opposition and Solidarity. Six hours before introducing the state of martial law, Polish troops will enter operations.
Four days later, in Jaruzelski’s first speech as prime minister, he asked for ninety days of peace to give the government time to deal with the country’s economic crisis. Criticizing the “hostile forces” working against socialism, Jaruzelski declared: “Our place is and will remain in the socialist camp. Poland will remain a faithful member of the Warsaw Pact.”
The next day, more Soviet generals arrived in Legnica under the guise of preparing for Soyuz 81 and began making reconnaissance visits to major industrial plants throughout Poland, shipyards in Gdansk and Gdynia, and the radio-TV center in Warsaw. Forests near Warsaw were chosen as bases for two Soviet divisions, and public buildings in Warsaw were selected as the
wojenna komendantura
(headquarters) for the military administration during an eventual invasion.
The secret war game ordered by Jaruzelski was held on February 16. The four dozen officials from the Defense and Interior Ministries who attended had to sign a secrecy oath. Only two officers―Kuklinski and one from the Interior Ministry―were allowed to take notes. The war game offered a vivid look at how a crackdown would be carried out. The participants agreed that the key to liquidating Solidarity was the swift detention of as many as 6,000 activists in the hours before martial law was formally introduced. The best time would be a holiday or weekend, when most Poles were at home. The SB would infiltrate Solidarity in order to learn its plans and influence its actions. Other militarized forces from the Ministry of Interior would enter factories and schools, while the army would send tanks and troops into cities.
Kuklinski summarized the war game and the official conclusions in a report for his superiors, which was presented to Jaruzelski. The prime minister gave his approval and ordered that a briefing paper be prepared for Moscow.
On Sunday, February 22, Kuklinski wrote to the CIA describing the visits by the Soviet generals, their tense encounters with Polish officers, and the war game. It was clear, he said, that Moscow would impose its will on Poland one way or the other. In preparation for Soyuz 81, Moscow was sending in troops, tanks, helicopters, and planes. “There exists a serious uneasiness among the leadership of the General Staff, who recognize the danger of transforming an exercise into a pre-planned military intervention,” Kuklinski wrote. He included film of the notes he took during the war game. “I must add that the plans in these documents are the most closely guarded secrets,” he wrote. He passed the letter and films to the CIA that night at 10:34.