Traitor: British Double Agents 1930-80

INTRODUCTION

What makes people spy against their own country? It could be ideology, money, love or the human weakness of falling for temptation. Whatever their purpose or price, a score or so have done it in the last fifty years, often oblivious to the possibly lethal consequences to millions of their fellow countrymen. The penalties inflicted on those caught and convicted have been severe. On judge called the activities of these spies ‘the canker of espionage’. Perhaps with perestroika heralding reform between East and West, one day there will be no need for spies – ours or theirs. Is that too much to hope?

John Frayn Turner

CHAPTER 1.

Alan Nunn May

The first atomic spy story broke when Detective Inspector William Whitehead, of Scotland Yard’s Special Branch, entered King’s College, London University, on the afternoon of 4 March 1946. He waited until Dr Alan Nunn May, a lecturer in physics, had completed a lecture and then saw the scientist at 3.30pm.

‘I have in my possession the warrant for your arrest, which I will read to you in a moment’, Whitehead said. Then he accompanied May outside the college, and, after entering a police car, read the warrant. Whitehead cautioned May, who remained silent. At a signal from the Special Branch officer, the driver moved off, and reached Bow Street police station in a few minutes, where May was formally charged.

The next day, Alan Nunn May, aged 34, of Stafford Terrace, Kensington, appeared in the police court at Bow Street accused of ‘having, on a day in 1945, for a purpose prejudicial to the safety and interest of the State, communicated to some person unknown certain information which was calculated to be, and might be, directly or indirectly useful to an enemy, contrary to the Official Secrets Act, 1911’. He was remanded in custody and it was at Bow Street on this day that the start of the story emerged, a story involving May in the disclosure of Canadian, American and British Secrets.

Born in Briton in 1912, May grew up in the atmosphere of the depression of the late 1920s and early 1930s. Like so many other young men of that era he became a communist, but unlike them he subsequently carried it a stage further. He was known in Russia, according to a Canadian report on him.

In 1941 the British Government set up an organization to investigate problems of atomic energy. The organization was part of the Department of Scientific and Industrial Research, and for security reasons was known at the time as Tube Alloys Research. The government did not want information to leak out to anyone – apart from Americans and Canadians – that the Allies were engaged in atomic energy research. The group began working under the direction of Sir Wallace Akers, and consisted of various teams of experts located in different university and industrial laboratories.

Meanwhile, May had graduated from Trinity College, Cambridge, as a physicist and gone on to take his Ph.D. to become a doctor of physics. In 1942 he was recruited into Akers’ top-secret group and at once went to work with a team in the famous Cavendish laboratory at Cambridge University. Nothing notable occurred during the rest of the year, except that May was becoming familiar with all the current thought and problems in harnessing nuclear energy. Then in 1943, there came a move that was to have a significant effect on this life: he went from Cambridge to Canada.

While in Canada during this vital latter half of the war, May served as a senior member of the nuclear physics division of the Tube Alloys organization. Not only did he have knowledge of all the advanced physics work connected with this research, but he also consulted on problems in physics relating to the atomic researches in progress at highest priority. May was on two committees which gave him access to top secret reports and to the latest developments connected with uranium; source of all their work on atomic energy. This indicated the vital importance and the secrecy of the post held by this comparatively young physicist. Needless to say, before accepting such a position, May had signed a document stating that he would not give information to anyone accept persons specifically named. The normal conditions of secrecy and confidence were imposed upon him.

But May had been, and remained, a communist and, according to Canadian investigations, he was contacted by a Soviet intelligence group in Ottawa not long after he arrived in Canada. He was given the cover name of Alek. It is no secret now that May must have been passing on all the latest atomic intelligence to Russia from the date of his recruitment into their ring in 1943.

May worked mainly at Montreal, as a senior physicist in the nuclear-physics unit of the British division there, while also travelling, when necessary, to attend the committees of which he was a member. British and Canadian secrets were endangered as May passed information and samples to a Lieutenant Angelov, using the cover name of Baxter. Angelov was one of the assistants to the Russian spy ring under Zabotin, the Soviet military attaché at the Soviet Embassy in Ottawa.

A year after his arrival in Canada, May visited the University of Chicago with some other British scientists to see the metallurgical laboratory there. That was in January. In April 1944, he undertook some work at the Argonne laboratory in Chicago, site of the original atomic pile using graphite and also a subsequent pile with heavy water. Then in August he spent several days with Chicago laboratory officials discussing the creation of the projected pile in Montreal. May’s fourth trip to the US extended from 25 September–30 October 1944, when he helped American scientists on research ‘in a highly secret and important new field’. This was at the Argonne laboratory once more, and throughout those five weeks May lived in the dormitory attached to the laboratory.

In May 1945, Major General Leslie R. Groves, in charge of the Manhattan District Project (cover code for the atomic bomb itself), felt that May had spent more time and acquired more knowledge at the Argonne than any other British physicist. Although at the time Groves had no reason to suspect May, the Americans did not like to have him acquire such a wide knowledge of later developments. So, that spring, Groves declined to approve a fifth visit to the Chicago laboratory, and May never visited any other atomic bomb installation. Despite this May was able to give the Russians vital development intelligence on atomic energy generally and the bomb in particular. The following was part of a telegram sent by Zabotin to Moscow immediately after the announcement of the atomic bomb on Hiroshima:

‘Facts given by Alek: (1) The test of the atomic bomb was conducted in New Mexico (with 49, 94-239). The bomb dropped on Japan was made of Uranium 235. It is know that the output of Uranium 235 amounts to 400 grams daily at the magnetic separation plant of Clinton. The output of 49 is likely two times greater (some graphite units are planned for 250 mega watts, i.e. 250 grams a day). The scientific research work in this field is scheduled to be published, but without the technical details. The Americans already have a published book on the subject. (2) Alek handed over to us a platinum with 162 micrograms of Uranium 233 in the form of oxide in a thin lamina…’

The war ended and May returned to London, already having arranged to contact a fresh agent there. May was to make his way through Bloomsbury to the British Museum at an agreed time on 17 October 1945. He would be walking in front of the museum in a specific direction, with a copy of the Times tucked under his left arm. What could be more harmless-looking than that? The new agent would then arrive, bearing a copy of the Picture Post in his left hand, and ask, ‘What is the shortest way to the Strand?’ May was to answer, ‘Well. Come along, I am going that way,’ and add ‘Best regards from Michael.’

But May was beginning to wonder whether he would take up his espionage activities now that he was back in Britain and the war was won. Meanwhile things began to happen on the other side of the Atlantic and on 15 February 1946, suspects of the Gouzenko-Zabotin ring were being rounded up in Canada. The very same day, Deputy Commander Burt, military rank lieutenant-colonel, received information from Canada in his capacity as head of the Special Branch at Scotland Yard. Burt at once went round to see May, who had resumed his work in Shell-Mex House. By coincidence this was in fact in the Strand – the street used for the code contact plan outside the British Museum. Burt could see the rear of Shell-Mex House from nearby Scotland Yard, and the journey by car took only a few minutes or two, plus the time of a couple of traffic light changes.

‘Are you aware that there has been a leakage of information in Canada relating to atomic energy?’ Burt asked May.

‘It’s the first I have heard of it’ said May.

Then he denied that any approach had been made to him while he was working in Canada, adding that he was not prepared to answer any question if it related to counter-espionage. The next five days passed by tensely for May, who was now lecturing at King’s College, London University. He went about his daily duties exactly as usual, though he must have been aware that he would be under the closest observation all the time. In those five days, Scotland Yard received more information from Canada, as the full story began to be pieced together of the Soviet spy ring which comprised a solid triangle based on Moscow-London-Ottawa. Burt saw May again on 20 February, when he told the physicist that he had reason to believe that shortly after his return from Canada, May had made an appointment to meet someone in the vicinity of the British Museum – and it was further known that this appointment was in fact never kept. So May’s decision not to continue had not saved him.

When questioned Burt indicated that he had not exercised any pressure on May, either by way of inducement, threat or promise of favour. Nor did he tell May that the authorities now had a lot more information about him that definitely implicated the scientist in the Canadian leakage. In fact, on 20 February, Burt was not yet in a position to accuse May, merely to warn him and await his reaction. However, by early March, Burt had what he needed.

So the story is up to date again and we move on, to 19 March at Bow Street. Mr Anthony Hawke, conducting the case on behalf of the Director of Public Prosecution said that the usefulness of the information disclosed by May could be measured in this way – that it might enable persons in possession of it to save a substantial period of time in arriving at conclusions connected with this research.

Sir Wallace Akers explained May’s duties in Canada during the war, and added, ‘Everything in connection with this matter discovered by Canadian or British sources since the war has been kept secret.’ When cross-examined, Sir Wallace agreed that May had been engaged in research on nuclear atomic energy, and not on atomic bombs.

Mr Gerald Gardiner, for the defence, asked him, ‘Most of what was known about atomic energy some little time ago has been published?’

‘Qualitatively, but no quantitatively.’

‘Is there a strong feeling among scientists, rightly or wrongly, that contributions to knowledge made by them with respect to the benefits of atomic research ought not to be the secrets of any one country?’

‘Yes’, agreed Sir Wallace.

Mr Gardiner then asked if Russia was a gallant ally in February 1945, whereupon Mr Hawke asked why Russia had been introduced. He had made no reference to Russia or America.

May was sent for trial at the Central Criminal Court, where on 1 May 1946 he changed his former plea to ‘guilty’, realizing that the authorities must have enough evidence against him anyway. The confession he made, however, hardly tallied with these facts, minimizing the importance of what he had done. This is what he admitted:

About a year ago, while in Canada, I was contacted by an individual whose identity I decline to divulge. He called on me at my private apartment in Swail Avenue, Montreal. He apparently knew I was employed by the Montreal laboratory and sought information from me concerning atomic research.

I gave and had given very careful consideration to the correctness of making sure that the development of atomic energy was not confided to U.S.A. I took the very painful decision that it was necessary to convey general information on atomic energy and make sure it was taken seriously. For this reason I decided to entertain propositions made to me by the individual who called on me.

After this preliminary meeting, I met the individual on several subsequent occasions while in Canada. He made specific requests for information, which were just nonsense to me – I mean by this that they were very difficult for me to comprehend. But he did request samples of uranium from me and information generally on atomic energy. At one meeting I gave the man microscopic amounts of U.233 and U.235. The U.235 was a slightly enriched sample and was in a small glass tube and consisted of about a milligram of oxide. The U.233 was about a tenth of a milligram and was a very thin deposit on platinum foil and was wrapped in a piece of paper.

I also gave the man a written report on atomic research as known to me. The information was mostly of a character which has since been published or is about to be published. The man also asked me for information about the U.S. electronically-controlled A.A. [anti-aircraft] shells. I knew very little about these and so could give only very little information.

He also asked me for introductions to people employed in the laboratory including a man named V…… but I advised against contacting him. The man gave me some dollars (I forget how many) in a bottle of whisky and I accepted them against my will.

Before I left Canada it was arranged that on my return to London I was to keep an appointment with somebody I did not know. I was given precise details as to making contact but I forget them now. I did not keep the appointment because I had decided that this clandestine procedure was no longer appropriate in view of the official release of information and the possibility satisfactory international control of atomic energy.’

So in his own words, May said, ‘I decided to wash my hands clean of the whole business.’ And most people would agree with him that there was plenty of which to wash his hands. His story, of course, had admitted only as much as he was sure the authorities already knew. It contained many lies. In fact, he had been acting as an agent since soon after his arrival in Canada where he was connected with the most top-secret operation of the whole war; the atomic bomb. The fact that the Russians were allies could not absolve him.

Passing sentence of ten years’ penal servitude on May, Mr Justice Oliver said: ‘I cannot understand how any man in your position could have the crass conceit to do what you did, knowing it was one the country’s most precious secrets. I find you have acted not as an honourable man but as a dishonourable man. It is a very bad case indeed.’

CHAPTER 2.

Klaus Emil Julius Fuchs

The second British atomic spy was brilliant, bespectacled, 38-year-old Dr Klaus Fuchs, senior principal scientific officer at Harwell. Fuchs was charged with having, on a day in 1947, communicated to a person unknown, information to atomic research useful to an enemy – and, as a British subject, having committed a similar offence in the United States on a day in February 1945.

This was now 2 February 1950. Commander Leonard Burt, of the Special Branch at Scotland Yard, went with Inspector George Smith to see Fuchs at Shell-Mex House. The white building backed on to the River Thames and faced the new Royal Festival Hall rising on the South Bank opposite. Further up the river to the west towered New Scotland Yard. It was rather like the Nunn May case four years earlier – which was not really surprising since they both belonged to the same Soviet spy ring in America and Britain.

A week later, on 10 February 1950, at Bow Street court, Fuchs was formally committed for trial. Mr Christmas Humphreys opened the case against Fuchs by alleging that he had made oral statements to three witnesses which amounted to a confession of both charges. To an officer of the Security Service, Mr Skardon, he made a voluntary statement in writing.

Dealing with his early career, Mr Humphreys said Fuchs was born near Frankfurt in Germany in 1911 and was educated at the universities of Leipzig and Kiel. In 1932, so Fuchs said, he became an anti-Nazi and joined the German communist party. In 1933 he left Germany for France and from there he came to England. He claimed he was a victim of Nazi oppression. Following the invasion of France in 1940 he was interned in England.

By 1942 atomic research was being intensified in more than one country, and this was certainly the case in England. The finest brains available were needed to assist in the research, and such brains as Fuchs possessed were very rare indeed. He was known to be on the finest theoretical physicists living and had done magnificent work for British atomic research.

After a careful scrutiny