28 August 2007

OVERCAST


It is back-to-school today for the students of Northern Virginia, and the Beltway is a mess. Surely this is premature, I think. It is tranquil here, high above the swimming pool at Big Pink. This aberration has nothing to do with the changing of the season. It is a problem generated purely by the human calendar.

Washington is blessed with a relatively sunny climate, and the brown waters of the Potomac broaden dramatically below the rocks at Georgetown. Swelled by the raffish outflow of the Anacostia, the river broadens as it flows south from the white marble buildings of the capital to the junction of the Chesapeake. The old landings of the plantations line the banks of the placid river, though the only great estate that remains is Mount Vernon, George Washington's experimental farm.

In 1944, there was not much gasoline available for pleasure driving, and the Parkway along the river was uncommonly quiet, except for the frantic activity up the dirt road at Fort Hunt.

The compounds on the old artillery installation then were the transient home of thousands of Axis prisoners, getting the special treatment to extract useful information before being transferred to regular detention camps elsewhere.

The information was extraordinarily useful to the War Effort. For example, it was commonly thought that the vaunted Nazi War Navy, the Kriegsmarine, was an elite all-volunteer force. The interrogators of PO Box 1142 found that was not the case. The burden of the conflict was becoming evident. A sizeable proportion of the submariners, at least in the latter years of the war, were definitely not in the Navy by choice. Many were Czechs or Poles who could not even speak fluent German.

The interrogators were much better. As Allied forces swept across France, the type and number of Enemy Prisoners of War (EPW) dramatically increased. The EPW population began to include senior Nazi decision-makers and military commanders. Others were rocket scientists, aeronautical engineers and   brutal killers.

It was a lot to sort through, and the War Department and Navy were scrambling to grab any technology that could shorten the war. The interrogation process at Fort Hunt had to be structured in a way that ensured compliance with legal procedure while retaining the flexibility to accomplish the mission.

While some of the Germans were happy to cooperate, others were not. For the latter, PO Box 1142 devised a special inducement.

Everyone knew what was happening on the Eastern Front, the Germans best of all. The Red Army was sweeping forward on a massive front, and there was no pity and no mercy. The crimes committed in the Nazi advance to Moscow were too fresh, and the Shock Armies of Stalin by intent had faces that evoked the Mongol hordes.

Even Fort Hunt had a resident Russian. His office was in Battery Sheridan, down the steep steps in the old powder magazine. He went by the name Ivanowski, and had a broad Slavic face with a stern and unforgiving visage.

'Uncooperative' EPWs were told that the failure to produce useful information was the end of the road for them at Fort Hunt. Consequently, they would be turned over to the Russians.

The prisoners were brought to the imposing concrete battlements of the old artillery bunkers. Major Ivanowski stood at the bottom of the stairs, lit with an ominous spot light, slapping a riding crop against his tall Soviet boots. In the background, a record player spun a disk with pre-recorded screams of agony.

One of the interrogators later said that a visit to Battery Sheridan was normally all it took for an EPW to want to talk much more expansively.

In point of fact, “Ivanowski” was from Ohio, and the only words of Russian he had learned from his parents. An encounter with the Major was as close to torture as things got at Fort Hunt, but it was effective.

By late 1944, it seemed that victory was imminent, and some central method of assessing the German war machine would be needed.

The last German offensive at the Bulge was a startling and bloody setback, but the end was inevitable. The victorious Russians were advancing on a broad front, and Marshall Zukov would be permitted the honor of capturing Berlin.

The Nazis knew the end was coming, too. Officially, the Fuhrer had to be supported. Privately, a submarine was loaded with top scientists and examples of the most sensitive technologies, rockets, and torpedoes and jet engines. The Captain was told to set a course for the Far East, in order to provide the Japanese with the means to inflict the greatest damage on the Allies.

With the urging of General Leslie Grove, a centralized effort to exploit the secrets was necessary, and the question of the Nazi nuclear program would be foremost among the objectives.

The new program was called “Project Althos,” a sly use of the Greek word for tree, or grove, in tribute to the general who had pressed for its creation. Initial results were impressive, and the project was dramatically revised to include all aspects of technology.

The new name was OVERCAST, and the program would bring everything to the United States. The prison camp at Fort Hunt would be part of it, of course, but Major Ivanoswki would be demobilized soon enough, and an entirely new approach would be necessary to deal with the people who would be coming.

There was a problem inherent with OVERCAST, and the interrogators at Fort Hunt were well aware of it. In addition to the scientists and engineers, they would be importing some monsters.

Tomorrow: The High Castle
Copyright 2007 Vic Socotra

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