My Father and the Soviet Spy (1968)

On the 13th September 1968 my father, Mike Curme, had arrived at his workplace at 399 Signal Unit, RAF Digby, as normal. Security was, as ever, extremely tight - indeed a high security clearance was required to get into the building. This was hardly surprising given the work my father and his colleagues were undertaking 24/7, 365 days per year. For 399 Signals Unit was the RAF arm of the GCHQ security establishment - originating in Bletchley Park and subsequently consolidated into custom built secure buildings in Cheltenham Gloucestershire. This particular day was destined to be far from ordinary however.

RAF Digby House Journal / 399 Signals Unit Plaque

In later years, my father was able to give some insight into the work he was doing and since his death I have learnt more from his U.S. National Security Agency counterpart, Tim Weekley, who served with him at GCHQ in Cheltenham through until the 1990s. Whilst at Digby my father, who had trained as a meteorologist, was mainly concerned with providing regular weather reports to Bomber Command in order to inform targeting decisions for the UK V-bomber force - the stand-by Vulcan Squadron at RAF Waddington. Over the years his work gravitated towards more specialist intelligence activities - primarily interpreting decoded Soviet weather reports in order to identify movements and changes in the deployment of Warsaw Pact military assets - for example the location of submarines or the construction or expansion of airfields.

So why was 13th September 1968 different to any other day? 

Shortly after 9:00am, the base was locked down by the military police and one of the team, RAF Sergeant and Signals Chief Technician Douglas Britten, was arrested on charges of espionage. The full story emerged during Britten's trial a couple of months later and was published in a number of contemporary newspapers, copies of which were retained by my father whose opportunity to appear as a key prosecution witness was curtailed when, during the trial presided over by Lord Chief Justice Hubert Parker, the defendant declared himself guilty (thereby receiving a reduced jail sentence of 21 years).

The Traitor and his Soviet Contact - Daily Express, 5 Nov 1968

Britten, an amateur radio enthusiast was first approached by a member of staff from the Soviet Embassy in the Science Museum, London. Feigning an interest in a particular radio part, Britten agreed to sell the required component. With his marriage failing and with major financial difficulties, Britten passed on some low grade snippets of information thus opening himself to blackmail. The combination of the threat of exposure and substantial amounts of cash was enough for Britten to betray his country. Over the cause of six years - firstly in Cyprus and subsequently in Lincolnshire - Britten sought out sensitive information for his Soviet masters. As the relationship deepened so, allegedly, did the pressure - with his minders threatening to kill Britten and / or harm his family. Frustrated with the quality of information that Britten was providing the emphasis moved to identifying key personnel whose proclivities were likely to make them susceptible to blackmail - financial problems, extra-marital affairs, gambling habits, all were levers that skilled Soviet agents could pull on. Britten was eventually caught when his Soviet contact failed to make a drop and he decided to hand-deliver a sheaf of documents to the Soviet Embassy (an act of monumental stupidity, fortuitous though it was). 

According to the Daily Express, espionage equipment found at Britten's home included a time-table of Soviet radio broadcasts, a book of call signs and a list of one time code words. In a side panel of his Volvo car, investigators found a spy camera disguised s a cigarette case. It worked with a mirror and lens, 9mm film in a tiny capsule and a tiny dry battery. Interviews with Britten revealed a catalogue of dead drop locations, protocols for meetings and details of what information the Soviets were looking for. For example when meeting with his minder, Yuri (actually Alexandra Ivanovitch Borinsko, nominally First Secretary in the Cultural department of the Soviet Embassy in London) at Arnos Grove near Southgate on 14th January 1967, Britten was to carry a copy of Autocar magazine under his arm. When asked the way to Edmonton Cemetery he was to answer "You catch a 219 bus" and the contact would answer "Greetings from Cyprus". My late father was adamant that one drop point was in Sleaford, Lincolnshire but since he was not called to testify at the trial this insight never reached the public domain.

My father (right) RAF Thorney Island

In August 1999, the U.S. CIA record of these events was made available to researchers. The document records that two Soviet Embassy officials were recalled after Britten's arrest - the handler Borisenko on 20th September 1968 and his comrade Col. Valentin Elistratov in November. Furthermore, the report reveal that the landlord of the digs were the Russians were staying said "They left unexpectedly at the same time, with hardly any notice". The report goes on to say, rather pointedly, that the size of the Soviet Embassy diplomat roster had grown to 79 (a yr on yr increase of 12) but that there had been no commensurate increase in Anglo-Soviet trade. Clearly the uncovering of Britten's duplicity and the even more impactful spying activities of Geoffrey Prime another GCHQ based traitor were demanding more embassy resources! The two cases prompted a major overhaul of security but there was no blame attributed to the positive vetting procedures which Britten, my father and others were subjected to at the time. 

An interesting footnote: Cognisant of her sons' rather dangerous profession, in 1979 my Grandmother wrote to the UK Prime Minister,  James Callaghan, expressing her concern about nuclear weapons. The PMs' cabinet colleague, William Rogers, replied "I am sure we are all deeply distressed by the need for nuclear weapons, wherever they may be". He went on to say that an adequate defence must be maintained and that "following the recent decision of NATO Ministers*, positive steps will be taken to which the Soviet Union will feel able to respond". 

*Salt II.

A further footnote: My mother remembers my father coming home on the day of the arrest, and all he said was "Douglas Britten kept looking over my shoulder to see what I was doing". He was very shocked. 

Oddball's Tank (1970)

The scene in the 1970 film Kelly's Heroes, where three Sherman tanks emerge from a railway tunnel and destroy a German Army camp, is a highlight from one of my favourite World War II movies. Operating ten miles behind lines the three tanks, commanded by the eccentric hippy Sgt Oddball, are on a quest for 14,000 bars of gold along with Infantry Private Kelly himself, played by Clint Eastwood. Kelly, who had been busted down to a Private from the rank of Lieutenant led a platoon which included Sergeant 'Big Joe' portrayed brilliantly by Telly Savalas. Whilst on a family holiday on the lower Danube recently my ears pricked up when I heard that we would be visiting Novi Sad in Serbia. I'd read recently that Oddball's tank is still parked up in the town.

Oddball's Tank. Or is it?

Eschewing the local tourist attractions (such as they are), my wife and I set off to track down the tank. Sure enough, we found the Sherman outside the Museum of Modern Art near the waterfront. It's in a sorry state and sits next to a number of WWII era artillery pieces. Apparently 599 Sherman M4A3E4 Sherman Tanks were taken on by the Yugoslavian Nation Army (JNA) under the U.S. instigated Mutual Defence Aid Programme. They were taken out of service in 1966 and whilst most were scrapped, some were retained - including three that were used in the 1970 film Kelly's Heroes.

Kelly's Heroes - Command Tank

Oddball - avoiding negative waves!

The film is set in France in late 1944 and the three Shermans were pretty authentic, sporting as they did, the 1944 pattern 76mm gun. The Tiger tanks which appear later in the film are carefully modified Soviet T34s - notwithstanding the care that went into the modifications for the film the big giveaway is that their turrets are set much to far forward on the tanks' chassis. Oddball had made a number of bizarre modifications to his command tank in the film. Firstly, a large loudspeaker was affixed to the turret (during the aforementioned tunnel attack, the loudspeaker is blasting out 'All for the love of sunshine' by Hank Williams Junior). Secondly, in some scenes metal tubing was added to the gun to make it look like the calibre was more than 76mm. Thirdly, munitions were modified to fire red paint (which came as a surprise to a Tiger Tank commander towards the end of the film).

Novi Sad - Sherman Tank

Kelly's Heroes was filmed in the picturesque Croatian village of Vizinada on the Istrian Peninsula. Obviously, in 1970 Croatia was part of the Republic of Yugoslavia and so it is entirely feasible that the tank should end up where it is. There are plenty of references to the Novi Sad tank having been used in Kelly's Heroes but are there any clues to nail this down definitively? One thing is clear in that the tank is not the one that Oddball rode in and which featured predominantly in the film. That tank was D68454, whereas the Novi Sad tank is designated 822 (see magnified portion on the photo below). 

Command Tank - Kelly's Heroes

Novi Sad Sherman - 822

Where does this leave us? Well, notwithstanding the fact that the tank was not the one driven by Oddball, it is entirely feasible that it was one of the other two featured in the film. Sadly, I've not been able to hit the pause button quickly enough to spot the turret numbers in the movie but I think there is enough circumstantial evidence to conclude that there is a link. As for Oddball's tank - it's probably parked up in the garage of the mansion he bought with his share of the loot. But then again, he did trade it up for a Tiger at the end of the film. I guess we'll never know!

The Siege of Vukovar (1991)

 Nowadays it is possible to cruise the River Danube's lower stretches, apart from the point at which it reaches the sea where the delta area is dangerously close to the current conflict in Ukraine. The journey from Budapest traverses four countries - Hungary, Serbia, Romania and Bulgaria. It also winds its' way through areas that were fought over during what the Serbians call the 'Yugoslavian Civil War' and the Croatians call the 'Croatian Homeland War of Independence'. The Croatian town of Vukovar is pleasant enough nowadays, but in 1991 it suffered an 87 day siege and attracted the epithet 'the Stalingrad of the Balkans'.

A view of Vukovar from the River Danube

 The tragedy of the Balkan upheaval following Tito's death still resonates today. Whilst Croatia is enjoying renewed prosperity - partly through its' membership of the EU, tensions remain in the region. Some a human legacy of the conflict and others concerned with disputed geography and issues of self-determination - in particular Kosovo. However, with just a few hours to visit the town, my focus was on an imposing waterside structure which the Croatians have elevated to the status of a national icon - the Vukovar Water Tower.

Vukovar Water Tower comparison chart

Vukovar Water Tower

Those under siege were defended by elements of the Croatian National Defence force. Croatia had declared independence and the Serbian controlled Yugoslav National Army (JNA) assisted by Serbia irregular troops sought to capture this strategically important town. Arguing that they needed to protect the minority Serbian population, the JNA used maximum force to take Vukova and the surrounding settlements. The bomb and artillery strikes are still evident in that there are many shattered homes and factories in the vinicity.

Semi-derelict building in the centre of Vokovar

The Water Tower is a fifteen minute walk from the centre of town - a walk that passes by facades damaged by shrapnel, plots once occupied by bombed out dwellings and wall murals celebrating Croatian war heroes and martyrs. Local legend has it that during the siege a local fighter climbed the smashed water tower every night after dusk in order to replace a Croatian flag which was regularly ripped apart by Serbian artillery fire. It was, apparently, an ideal sniper position. The shattered structure has been left in its' original state but an impressive iron framework has been erected inside - with several galley floors, audio-visual interpretation and a lift for easier access to the roof which now sports tiered terraces and a giant Croatian flag. 

Hero's Footsteps

The exploits of the brave individual who climbed the tower every night are marked in a very literal way. Footprints embedded on the rooftop flag stand and a striking graphic at the bottom of the access stairs. The siege ended in a JNA victory notwithstanding the bravery of the Croatian defenders. In 1998 the town was consolidated into modern day Croatia after a period of political manoeuvring. Subsequent to the resumption of Croatian control evidence of was crimes was uncovered and two former JNA officers were convicted by the International Crimes Tribunal for their part in what is known as the Vukovar Massacre.

Screenshot from Water Tower visual presentation

I have read that the town is still divided along ethnic lines - Serbians on the one hand, and Croats on the other. One would hope that such divisions will dissipate over time and the fact that tourists are now regularly visiting, must be a positive - driving as it does, local employment and improved prosperity.