annual operational training directives for Defense Minister Wojciech Jaruzelski, in which he had analyzed the state of training throughout the Polish Armed Forces, and developed new plans for each year. He had been sent to Romania to study its military training and planning. In the fall, he would accompany Jaruzelski to the Soviet Union to watch Polish Army exercises, which would include the launching of Scud missiles and Polish air-defense missiles.
Kuklinski had no family or friends abroad. But he kept in regular touch with officers in other Warsaw Pact militaries and had developed a network of experts who supplied him with the latest information he needed for his job. He often visited military units around Poland and met directly with the field commanders, who treated him with respect.
As Kuklinski talked, he puffed on his cigarette, which he held between his thumb and middle finger, European style.
Henry and Lang told Kuklinski that he would be given a miniature camera to photograph secret documents. They also spent part of the meeting explaining an initial system of communications inside Poland. Kuklinski was asked for details of his daily life, from where he parked at work (often on a public street) to the streets he took back and forth. He was told that whenever possible, he should drive his own car―rather than take the bus or his official car―and to adhere to the same route each way. Henry explained that the information would allow the Americans to keep track of him and leave him signals, and if he deviated from his routine, they could begin to worry.
Simplicity was the key, Henry said. The United States would make initial contact with him in Warsaw by dropping a letter into his car window. The letter would contain innocuous writing and a hidden message, visible only when pressed with an iron (the CIA calls this scorch technique “SW,” or secret writing). The message would confirm the time and place of their first meeting in Warsaw. Henry told Kuklinski to use the pseudonym “Jack Strong” when signing letters to the Americans.
The Americans also assured Kuklinski that if the worst case happened, that if he believed he was about to be arrested and had to flee Poland, the U.S. government would take care of him and his family. They said the Americans would begin to put aside funds for this purpose. Kuklinski, who understood the risks he was taking, was surprised at the statement. He had assumed he was dealing with the U.S. Army as officer to officer, and he had made clear that his motivation was ideological, not financial. He wanted to remain in Poland and work against the Soviet Union, and what he wanted was America’s support.
As the second meeting drew to a close, Kuklinski addressed Henry and Lang directly. He said he had no desire to talk about areas in which he lacked expertise. “I do not propose to dwell on my political views.” After all, he said, he was a military person. “Nonetheless, as every Pole, I understand that we find ourselves in a forced situation, and were harnessed into the Communist yoke.”
Having been in the army for twenty-five years, he said, “observing life and happenings in the world, starting with the Korean War and followed by the situation in Indochina, events in Czechoslovakia, the dramas in our own country―have convinced me that the Communist [side] is, unfortunately, the aggressive side.”
In his view, the Polish Armed Forces, in case of a war, could never be “harnessed to the Soviet war machine.” For centuries, he said, Poland had a tradition of freedom, and the Polish Army was “where freedom was fought for.”
But even though Poland was deep inside the Communist bloc, he continued, “the place of our armed forces, the place of our army, although inside the defense system of the Soviet Union, is on the side of freedom. It is where your army is, the army of the United States.”
At 9:05 P.M., the three men
Jinsey Reese, Victoria Green