Oswald's Counter-survillance Tradecraft
JFK Assissination Re-Enactment part 1 - YouTube
JFK Assassination secret service Re-Enactment part 2 - YouTube
When the Secret Service conducted their filmed reenactment
of the assassination, they give a good overview of the general situation and
show the target car coming down Houston Street and making the turn onto Elm,
and you can’t help but wonder WHY the shooter didn’t take this easy shot, and as
the car completes its turn right under the window, you wonder WHY that easy
shot wasn’t taken, and then there’s the tree blocking the view of the target
before the point is reached where the fatal head shot was taken.
JFK Assissination Re-Enactment part 1 - YouTube
JFK Assassination secret service Re-Enactment part 2 - YouTube
And the answer is - the head shot was taken from the front as the car approached the shooter who was on the Grassy Knoll.
Then you watch as the gunman - played by a Secret Service agent in suit and tie, hustles down an isle of books, places the rifle next to a small stack of books directly in front of the steps where it would easily be found, and descends the steps.
Four flights later, the cameraman follows the assassin to the second floor where you see the door to the lunch room with a square window, through which Dallas motorcycle policeman Marion Baker saw Oswald's head as he ran up the steps behind TSBD Roy Truly, ninety seconds after the last shot was fired.
For Oswald to have been the Sixth Floor Sniper he had to come down those steps and enter the lunchroom through that door.
As they examined the situation however, the Secret Service realized that for Baker to have seen Oswald through that window from the steps, the door had to be closed, because if was open, even a little bit, the window would move and disappear.
On the other side of the door is a vestibule with another door that leads south to the offices and steps and elevator to the front door.
Oswald was last seen (by Arnold) on the first floor and that's where he said he was at the time of the assassination, then went to get a coke in the second floor lunchroom, where he was seen by Baker. The Warren Commission tells us Oswald then left the lunchroom through the south door.
Oswald was last seen (by Arnold) on the first floor and that's where he said he was at the time of the assassination, then went to get a coke in the second floor lunchroom, where he was seen by Baker. The Warren Commission tells us Oswald then left the lunchroom through the south door.
Two minutes later a court clerk from across the street saw the pantlegs of a man standing and moving boxes around in the Sixth Floor Sniper's nest. If that wasn't Oswald, who was it?
After giving a report to police and his testimony to the Warren Commission, TSBD Roy Truly was recalled by Warren Commission attorneys for one additional question - does the lunchroom door with the window through which the cop saw Oswald - does that door have an automatic door closer?
Since they asked this question in an office in the Post Office Annex across the plaza from the TSBD, certainly the WC lawyers could have walked over and looked for themselves to see if the door had an automatic closing device, but instead they asked Truly.
The question they didn't ask him was why, if he was in front of Baker running up the steps, why didn't he see Oswald as he walked through the door?
They didn't ask the question because they already knew the answer - Oswald didn't walk through that door, but entered the vestibule of the 2nd floor lunchroom through the south door, the same door he exited.
The Secret Service filmed Reenactment stops filming what Oswald would have seen if he had done what they say he did - exit through the front door three minutes after the last shot without anyone seeing him or filming him.
From there the SS Reenactment film uses maps to indicate where Oswald went - walking six to eight blocks east on Elm, then getting into a bus that is going back to the scene of the crime. When the bus gets stuck in traffic, he takes a transfer and walks to the bus station where he gets a cab to Oak Cliff - five blocks past his rooming house and walks back.
After allegedly changing some clothes, picking up a jacket and a pistol, he is last seen standing at a bus stop, but then appears nearly a mile away at 10th and Patton, where he allegedly encounters DPD officer J.D. Tippit. Dale Meyers, who has studied the Tippit murder thoroughly, but incompletely, claims that its possible that Oswald was walking towards Tippit when he suddenly turned around, and this furtive movement is what attracted Tippit's attention.
If true, then Oswald's alleged movements in the immediate aftermath of the assassination indicates Oswald three times utilized standard counter-surveillance tradecraft techniques that are taught to those engaged in espionage and covert activities, but not generally known.
While the Secret Service and the Warren Commission fail to make note of this fact, the Secret Service would have most certainly recognized it, just as they recognized that Oswald did not go through the lunchroom door he had to go through in order to be the Sixth Floor Assassin.
Not only did Oswald utilized counter-surveillance techniques in the immediate aftermath of the assassination, going into "operational mode," he also utilized a number of other tradecrafts that William Hood mentions in his book Mole, quoted below.
As a member of the CIA Counter-Intelligence CI Staff with James Angleton, Hood signed off on some of the CIA's Mexico City cables regarding Oswald before the assassination, and he would have certainly recognized these traits in Oswald's alleged movements. How many do you count?
Hood was interviewed by Jeff Morley for his book "Our Man in Mexico," and recently passed away.
As we struggled to come to terms, the agency reminded me
that the director of Central Intelligence is charged by law with safeguarding
the agency’s “sources and methods.” I pointed out that in this instance the
source had been arrested in 1958 and, according to Soviet authorities, put to
death in 1959….There remained the question of methods.
The methods – called “tradecraft” – described in this book
are not unique to CIA .
Except for the Soviet proclivity for murder, kidnapping, and blackmail, there
is not much difference in espionage methodology East or West. Tradecraft may
seem mysterious to outsiders, but it is little more than a compound of
commonsense, experience, and certainly universally accepted security practices.
In the past eighty years newspaper accounts, informed novelists, and historians
– particularly of World War II – have put considerable tradecraft into the
public domain. In 1976 Senator Frank Church made an immense amount of data
available to anyone willing to plow through the reports of his committee’s
investigating CIA .
The fact is that tradecraft is like arithmetic: it has been
around for centuries. The basics are easy to learn and good texts can be found
in any library. Although it is easy to make mistakes under pressure, only the
advanced aspects – like multiplying fractions or manipulating double agents –
are particularly complex.
The only significant changes in espionage in this century
have resulted from the application of advanced technology to operational
problems….. (p. xiv)
In any really productive operation, the spy’s motives are of
critical importance. (p. xv)
(p. 1)
Contact men are assigned cover names….
By “plumbing,” Helms meant the operational support structure
– safe houses, surveillance agents, letter drops, and a technical section
trained to make quick audio installations, handle clandestine photography, and
provide reliable short-range radio communications. Safe houses – usually small
apartments rented under a pretext – were used by case officers to meet and
question, or as jargon had it, to “debrief” agents.
(p. 10)
…When you score, remember to slug the cable “Blue-Bottle”
and send it Eyes Only to me. We won’t want many people in on the act.
“Blue-Bottle” was an agency indicator used only on cables of
the greatest secrecy. It meant that the message could be deciphered only by the
chief of communications staff on duty when it arrived. Three copies were to be
made, one for the chief of operations, one for the chief of the Operations
Directorate, and another for Helms. They would be delivered by courier…. (p.
11)
One of the many myths pinned on secret intelligence by
imaginative journalists is that no espionage service will accept a spy who
volunteers his services. In the real world of secret operations, volunteers
have produced some of the greatest coups. “It’s the walk-in trade that keeps
the shop open,” is one of the first bits of operational wisdom impressed on
newcomers to the business. (p. 15)
Whatever his motives may be, the role of a spy is to betray
trust. A man who has volunteered, or been tapped, to commit treason cannot
logically ever be trusted again. Every aspect of a spy’s relationship with his
case officer, or intelligence service, stems from this basic premise. (p. 29)
With a new agent, the case officer’s first task is to
maneuver him into a position where there is nothing that he can hold back – not
the slightest scrap of information nor the most intimate detail of his personal
life. Until this level of control has been achieved, the spy cannot be said to
have been fully recruited. Only when the recruitment is completed can a
“contact” or “source” (as they are sometimes called) be considered a spy, the
creature of his case officer and the intelligence service he represents. (p.29)
As an outside man and a newcomer to operations, Alex had
done a good job….
[BK: An outside man works “in the field” while an “inside
man” works officially out of the embassy or field station, and is separated
from the field operations by “cut-outs” and intermediaries.]
Todd also briefed Alex on what he called a “one-shot.” One-shotting
has a particular appeal for imaginative amateurs who think they can make an
anonymous, one-time transaction with an intelligence service – a packet of
information for a wad of cash and no one the wiser. Grasping greenhorns have
about as much chance of swinging a deal like this as the average football fan
would have of surviving more than a few minutes in a Super Bowl game.
Most spies are mercenaries. No matter how much political
gloss they daub on their motives, if money enters the picture at all, chances
are overwhelming that money is the motive. (p. 31)
Once in a while, just often enough to give intelligence
officers a false sense of confidence, a secret operation goes almost according
to plan. (p. 35)
Russian is not a language that lends itself to a simplified,
pidgin form. Unlike German, Spanish or even French, there is no such thing as
“speaking a little Russian.” One knows the language or not. (p.39)
Captured German and Japanese documents yielded some
information on Soviet espionage during the war. In Japan, the net established
by Richard Sorge was brought under study, and in Europe, the German files were
mined for data on the wide ranging networks partially exposed by the Gestapo,
the Sicherheitsdienst (SD) and the Abwehr. Research into the most extensive of
these reseaux – called the Rose Kapelle (Red Orchestra) by the Germans – kept a
handful of analysts busy for almost a decade after the war. (p42)
Fortunately, one researcher uncovered a press clipping on
Ismael Akhmedov, a GRU major who had defected from Soviet Military Intelligence
in Turkey in 1944. Although he had been questioned at length on local matters,
and later by the British on a broader scale, Akhmedov agreed to another
debriefing….It was during this interrogation that Newby was struck by the fact
that each time he opened a new topic, Akhmedov would say, “But you must know
this. I went over it in detail with the British.” Philby, who had handled
Akhmedov’s interrogation for the British, had given SSU but a few scant pages
of data from him. …How could so bright a chap as Philby was known to be have
misjudged an important defector so badly? (p43)
Still in his stocking feet – to avoid unnecessary sound,
everyone in the back room had removed his shoes – the trio came tumbling out.
There was another rule. Never under any circumstances was there any drinking in
the room with the tape recorders.
Although headquarters continued to swamp the station the
station with requirements – intelligence jargon, questions for agents are known
as “intelligence requirements,” a pompous military phrase usually shortened to
“requirements” or “RQMs” it was up to
the station to balance headquarters enthusiasm for the intelligence product
with the reality of agent handling. (p. 91)
One of the biggest threats to a spy – certainly to a Russian
working in place – is sudden and unexplained affluence. (p. 110)
Now, he seemed more hurried than usual, as he strode briskly
past the safe-house entrance for a hundred yards before abruptly whirling and
retracing his steps – a routine maneuver to see if anyone was behind him.
Satisfied that there was no one there, Popov stepped into the entrance. (p.
115)
The only agents that can be presumed to be clean –
unsuspected by anyone – are those who have been thoroughly investigated but
never used operationally. Some of these high-security support agents are
recruited and given a small retainer against the day – usually night – they
will be needed. Others are kept warm by case officers -…..When needed, they can
be formally recruited. Many are used only once. (p182)
By walking back along the route
they had driven, Popov could satisfy himself there had been no surveillance
behind them. (p. 208)
For centuries surveillance was
practiced as an art, its techniques passed from one generation of gray men to
another. It was not until the twentieth century that the shadowy craft became a
science employing the most advanced – usually referred to by the technicians as
“state-of-the-art” – forms of photography, electronics, radio, and all types of
transportation. Today, the nondescript, gray men come like sorrows, not singly
but in battalions.
New York is a pigeon’s
paradise. A “pigeon,” or target, on the
move in Manhatten can chose among subways, buses, taxis, rental cars, private
vehicles, elevators, escalators, and stairways. He can scurry along crowded or
empty sidewalks, duck into alleys, cross vacant lots, loiter in parks and prowl
through as complex a variety of buildings, department stores, shops, museums,
and churches as exist in any city.
When a tail-smart spy is trying
to spot a possible surveillance, he may appear to act indecisively, even
implausibly. Suddenly and without any apparent reason, he will whirl and double
back on his tracks, looking into the faces of those behind him and making eye
contact with as many of the crowd as he can. Any foot surveillant within a
hundred feet of a clever spy who makes a series of these moves is likely to
have to drop the chase. Another tactic is to seek sparsely traveled sidewalks,
or open areas, where the spy can isolate himself and thus cut down the number
of people he must scan if he is to glimpse a familiar silhouette or a face he
has seen before.
After doubling, redoubling, and
doubling his path again, an agent may board a subway at the last minute, step
off at the next stop, walk slowly along the platform toward the street exit,
and, at the last moment, jump back onto the train. Leaving the subway, he might
enter a tall office building, take an express elevator to the first stop, step
out and walk away as if headed for an office. The moment the elevator door
closes behind him, he returns, pushes the button for another car, goes up two
floors, steps out, and hurries to the emergency stairway. Then, he might walk
ten floors down, take yet another elevator to the ground floor and adjacent
subway. There he may repeat his on-again, off-again subway technique. For
measure, he might stop for an hour of browsing in Macy’s, Bloomingdale’s, or
any store with escalators, elevators, a good choice of exits, and easy access
to a subway station.
The Russians call this “dry
cleaning.” Sometimes it works. But when the surveillance is all-out, the pigeon
cannot isolate himself. The surveillance team makes its own crowd. Agents
dressed as businessmen with briefcases, as messengers, tourists, idlers,
housewives with easily discarded shopping bags, combine to make a cross-section
of the crowd to be found on any busy street, in a department store or office
building. On the move, a pigeon may be convoyed by a score of surveillants,
with an equally large reserve team positioned in the rear and ready to leapfrog
forward if summoned.
Laid back behind the foot
soldiers is a motorized brigade prepared to pick up the chase if the target ops
for a taxi or is picked up by a passing car – a “floating contact.” (Not for
thirty years has a tail leaped into a taxi, flashed a badge, and told the
driver to “follow that car.”) In a full court press or “all skate” – as many as
ten vehicles, shabby but fast and well maintained passenger cars, taxis,
trucks, motorcycles, and, in good weather, a bicycle or two – might be on the
street. (Now that skateboards and roller-sakes are common in New York, a
flighty pigeon may have even more to keep an eye on.)
The coordination of this
intricate activity requires a communications network almost as complex as that
of a motorized battalion moving cross-country. More than one radio channel
might be required to link the pocket radio sets, walkie-talkies, and the
larger, more powerful radios concealed in the surveillance cars. (p220-221)
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