The Allies were fond of this kind of information, because they had no way of knowing what was going on inside the country. Germany in early 1944 resembled an impenetrable fortress. Only a very few people, one of whom was Fritz Kolbe, enabled the veil to be lifted a little. Apart from him, there were Hans-Bernd Gisevius and his friends in the Abwehr, an occasional businessman, and a few boatmen who sailed on the Rhine and whom OSS agents questioned in the cafés of Basel.
The memorandum to President Roosevelt stated, in part:
The enclosed dispatch from Bern and the accompanying evaluation of its source should, it is believed, be brought to your attention as early as possible. This cable is the evaluation by our principal Swiss intelligence representative of two hundred enemy documents (four hundred pages) that have just come into his hands…. A cable has been sent to the author, requesting him to review it carefully to see whether he wishes, on reflection, to modify any of its language and to report here by cable immediately. It would seem that the author, thanks to the sudden receipt of more than 400 pages of material all at one moment, finds himself in a position where he can see the whole picture rather than any single part.
The OSS then quoted at length a Kappa message written by Dulles on April 12:
Sincerely regret that you are unable at this time to view Wood’s material as it stands without condensation and abridgement. In some 400 pages, dealing with the internal maneuvering of German diplomatic policy for the past two months, a picture of imminent doom and final downfall is presented. Into a tormented General Headquarters and a half-dead Foreign Office stream the lamentations of a score of diplomatic posts. It is a scene wherein haggard Secret Service and diplomatic agents are doing their best to cope with the defeatism and desertion of flatly defiant satellites and allies and recalcitrant neutrals…. Already Canaris has disappeared from the picture, and a conference was hastily convoked in Berlin at which efforts were made to mend the gaping holes left in the Abwehr. Unable now to fall back on his favorite means of avoiding disconcerting critics by retiring to his bed, Ribbentrop has beat a retreat to Fuschl and retains a number of his principal aides at Salzburg. The remainder of the Foreign Office is strung out all the way between Riesengebirge and the capital. Practically impossible working conditions exist in the latter, and bomb shelters are being permanently used for code work. Once messages have been deciphered, a frantic search begins to locate the specific service or minister to which each cable must be forwarded; and, when a reply is called for, another search is required to deliver this to the right place….
The final deathbed contortions of a petrified Nazi diplomacy are pictured in these telegrams. The reader is carried from one extreme of emotion to the other, from tears to laughter, as he examines these messages and sees the cruelty exhibited by the Germans in their final swan-song of brutality toward the peoples so irrevocably and pitifully enmeshed by the Gestapo after half a decade of futile struggles, and yet at the same time also sees the absurdity of the dilemma which now confronts this diplomacy both within and without Festung Europa.
This message was considered exceptional by the heads of the OSS, because most official analyses up to that time had concluded that the Nazis were still solidly holding onto power. On April 3, 1944, General Donovan had sent a letter to President Roosevelt characterizing the morale in the capital of the Reich in these terms: “As though they were under the influence of morphine, with no sign of collapse and yet a general despair of ever gaining the victory now.” While it seemed that the war was likely to last for a long time, Dulles’s message of April 12 for the first time suggested that the end of the tunnel might be in sight.
On April 20, 1944, a new message from the OSS landed on President Roosevelt’s desk. He was informed that Allen Dulles was sticking with his analysis: Germany, he said, was at the end of its rope, even if nothing had yet been won by the Allies:
The message from Switzerland (transmitted to you on 12 April 1944) ‘should not be read as indicating that the morale of the Nazi Army is nearing collapse (excepting probably the so-called Grossdeutscher, Slav and other non-German elements.)’ Nor does our Swiss representative think that any important Nazi military officials are ready and willing to let us come in through the West unopposed. He believes, rather, that fierce opposition may be given to any invasion attempt. A collapse of Germany might follow, however, a few months after the establishment of a firm toe-hold in the West. He concludes: ‘the timing of the invasion attempt may be all-important. The German people are war-weary and apathetic, and even in Nazi circles the same kind of psychological depression can be seen as appeared last August and September. Yet if they could stabilize the Russian front once more, they may catch a second wind, and put up an even stronger defense against invasion.’
Washington/Bern, April 26, 1944
On Wednesday, April 26, 1944, Washington sent Allen Dulles an encouraging message: “Particular felicitations for the Japanese data. The military people are most appreciative…. Far Eastern information is the most highly desired next to any hot invasion material.” The American generals in Asia were now informed of the principal Kappa revelation concerning their theater of operations. A few days later, Colonel Alfred McCormack presented his final report on “George Wood,” overall cautious and reserved, but laudatory with respect to Japan: “They contain a certain amount of new information which, if true, is useful—notably the identification of a number of divisional commanders in Burma,” he wrote.
On the other hand, McCormack did not think the remainder of the Kappa material was of much use: “Because of the time lag between the date of origin and date of receipt here, information that might have been of interest had either been obtained from other sources or had become stale. As is usual with diplomatic communications, a good deal of the material is second-hand information upon subjects on which first-hand information is available, or it relays expressions of opinion made for diplomatic purposes or made by people whose opinions on the particular subjects are of no great consequence.”
At the same time, the British began to take an interest in the “George Wood” file. An investigation in London in April revealed that only 4 percent of the information supplied by Wood was false or incorrect. On May 12, 1944, David Bruce, chief of the OSS in London, transmitted to Allen Dulles “special congratulations” from his British colleagues for the material on Japan. On his own initiative, Kim Philby of MI6 had sent a copy of Fritz’s documents concerning the order of battle of Japanese troops to Alistair Denniston, the head of Bletchley Park, the agency charged with deciphering enemy messages. Denniston’s services were enthusiastic and asked for more. Soon the heads of the Army, Navy, and Air Force “all three howled for more,” as Philby was to write in his memoirs. Claude Dansey, the number-two in MI6, was absolutely furious that one of Dulles’s agents was having such success in London. But he calmed down when Philby explained that he had done everything possible to conceal the American origin of “Wood.” “Not even our own circulating sections, let alone the departments, knew that OSS were involved. They regarded it as our stuff, they were asking us for more. It seemed that the credit would be ours.” From that moment on, Dansey rubbed his hands and congratulated his young colleague (Philby was then thirty-two). Philby’s career progressed, and his reputation grew in the British intelligence community. No one knew that he was working for Moscow. Philby was later to recall fondly in his memoirs: “Our German friend proved to be an intrepid operator, and paid several more visits to Bern with his useful suitcase.”