Operation Overflight (23 page)

Q. But you, Defendant Powers, were trained enough to know that such equipment is designed for special spying flights?

A. I didn't know anything about the equipment before.

Q. But you were sufficiently informed that this flight had espionage aims?

A. I saw no other reason for such a flight. I ask that the lights of the cameras be taken away. They are blinding my eyes.

P
RESIDING
J
UDGE
: I ask that the lights be taken away. …

What most of the audience couldn't know was that this was an old battle, one which, like those of the Civil War, had been verbally fought over and over again.

At the interrogations, I had insisted I had never seen the special equipment, wasn't sure exactly what it did, had never been informed that the purpose of my flight was espionage, though my suspicions were another matter.

An affirmative response to any of these points would have opened the door to questions I didn't want to answer.

In short, I was just an airplane jockey, not a spy, paid to fly along an assigned route flipping on and off switches as indicated on a map, with little knowledge of the results of my actions, and even less curiosity.

During the interrogations, I had succeeded, I felt, in making this sound plausible, even convincing. Out of context, however, as it was now, it sounded extremely dubious.

Yet, having stuck to this story during more than a thousand hours of intensive grilling, I wasn't about to change it now to give Rudenko a perfect case.

I wondered what my parents were thinking. How confused and frightened they must be, seeing their only son on trial for his life in a Moscow courtroom, charged with spying! And Barbara, with all her problems and weaknesses, what was going through her mind? More than anything, I wanted to make it easier for them. But there was no way I could do so, nothing I could say or do to help. Most of all, I was worried about the effect of the verdict. The longer I remained on the stand, the more helpless the situation appeared.

There followed an attempt to make me verify that the granger was supposed to deflect SAMs as well as air-to-air missiles; another
to make me admit that in marking down the unlisted airdrome and other observations on my map, I was, knowingly and intentionally, committing espionage.

Q. With what purpose did you make these marks?

A. I was instructed to record everything that was not shown on my map. This is a “pilot's habit.”

Q. A habit which has espionage purposes?

A. I would have done it over the territory of the United States, too.

Q. But I asked you about the flight over the territory of the Soviet Union. Consequently, it was an intrusion for espionage purposes?

A. I suppose it was.

Q. You do not deny that you invaded Soviet airspace in violation of the law.

A. No, I do not deny it.

To do otherwise, considering the evidence, would have been ridiculous.

Q. Therefore, this intrusion pursued intelligence espionage aims?

A. I suppose so.

Having failed to get an unqualified admission, Rudenko approached from another direction.

Q. You stated here, and during the primary investigation as well, that you switched the equipment on and off at definite points.

A. I did what the chart indicated.

Q. Not knowing what the special apparatus was?

A. I never saw the apparatus.

Q. With the same ease, you could have pulled a switch and released an atom bomb?

A. It could have been done. But this is not the type of plane for carrying and dropping such bombs.

Touché, Prosecutor Rudenko.

I'd caught that one. But Rudenko had been questioning me for more than two hours. And I had been standing every minute. I was extremely tired, mentally as well as physically. And the tiredness was rapidly changing into depression. I had to force myself to stay alert, to listen and consider carefully each question and answer, in order not to make a slip.

Still again: Q. At what altitude was your plane when it was struck by the rocket?

A. It was at the maximum altitude, at about sixty-eight thousand feet.

If the agency hadn't gotten the message by now, they never would.

Rudenko then switched to the destruct device. I was sure he was going to imply that I didn't use it because I feared my own destruction also, but he didn't. Instead he moved on to my survival equipment.

Q. For what purpose were you given the noiseless ten-shot pistol?

A. For hunting.

Q. And for that they also gave you 205 cartridges?

A. Yes.

Q. As far as we know, it is the custom to hunt with hunting rifles.

A. It is difficult to carry hunting rifles on this plane.

Q. Yes, especially on this plane, which has espionage purposes.

A. I think that the pistol that was given to me had nothing to do with the purpose of the flight.

What was he getting at with mention of the pistol? Whatever it was, I wanted to forestall it.

Q. Who gave you the poison needle?

A. It was given to me by Colonel Shelton during the briefing at Peshawar.

Q. For what purpose?

We were back on familiar ground. I knew exactly what he wanted to imply.

A. In case I was captured, tortured, and couldn't stand the torture and would rather be dead.

Q. This means your superiors directed you in this flight not to spare your life?

A. It was more or less up to me whether to use that pin.

Q. But they gave you that needle with poison?

A. Yes.

Q. They wanted you to blow up the plane, kill yourself, and wipe out all trace?

A. No, they didn't tell me to kill myself.

Q. But they gave you the needle to kill yourself?

A. If I was tortured.

Q. You were told torture would be used in the Soviet Union?

A. I don't remember being told, but I expected it.

Q. Were you tortured?

A. No.

Q. How did the interrogation authorities treat you?

A. I have been treated very nicely.

Compared to what I had expected, this was quite true.

It was then established that the U-2 shown to me in Gorky Park was the same one I had flown from Peshawar, though, as I noted, not in exactly the same condition. From here Rudenko went back in time to the particulars of my contract with the CIA, such as my pay and duties.

A. I was told that my main duties would be to fly along the Soviet border and collect any radar or radio information. I was also told there would possibly be other duties.

Q. Did you sign the contract?

A. Yes.

Q. Who signed on behalf of the Central Intelligence Agency?

Finally!

A. I don't exactly remember, but it was a Mr. Collins. I think he signed in my presence, but there were others who signed it too.

“Collins” hadn't signed it. But this was the only way I had found thus far to get his “name” in.

Rudenko then attempted to get me to admit that I knew I would be making overflights when I signed the contract. Failing in this, he moved on to Incirlik and Detachment 10-10. And again the attempt to make the operation military:

Q. What were the purpose and aims of the detachment in which the defendant was assigned?

A. In general, to gather information along the borders of the Soviet Union. We likewise conducted weather-research reconnaissance to determine radioactivity.

Q. Who was immediately in charge of the 10-10 detachment?

A. The immediate supervision over the 10-10 detachment was under a military commander, but to whom he was responsible, I did not know.

Q. But it was a military commander?

A. The head of the detachment was a military man.

Q. I understand.

A. But the bulk of the detachment were civilians.

Rudenko didn't appreciate the qualification.

Who were some of the visitors to the base? he asked. I repeated the names I had given in interrogation.

Q. So Cardinal Spellman interested himself in military bases?

A. I would say that he was interested in military personnel, not bases.

Q. Would Cardinal Spellman give his blessings to persons engaged in spy operations?

A. He was a well-known church figure. I think he wouldn't think so much of what a person does as what he is.

Following a long series of questions which established that although I carried NASA identification I had no actual relationship to that agency, the presiding judge announced, “We will take a recess until the afternoon session.”

From the hall I was taken to a comfortably furnished anteroom. There was a couch, permitting me to lie down if I cared to. And lunch included the first fresh fruit I had seen since my arrival in Russia—bananas and a piece of watermelon.

Next to my chair was a news magazine called
New Time
. Published in English in Moscow, it was an obvious imitation of the American
Time
. I was leafing through it, hopeful of picking up some outside news, when one of the guards, through the interpreter, ordered me to put it down.

“Why?” I asked.

“Because,” he explained, “reading while eating is bad for the digestion.”

The irony of his concern gave me my first laugh of the day.

But it was momentary. My depression intensified. The first session had begun at ten
A.M.
and lasted nearly four hours, the major part of which I had been on the stand. The emotional strain weighed greater than at any time since my capture. Several times I had been on the verge of screaming: I'm guilty! Sentence me to death and end this farce!

I hadn't expected a showcase trial. In a sense, my replies didn't even matter. I was present merely as a symbol. And they were using that symbol to embarrass the United States, to put it on trial by proxy in the court of world opinion. I wanted no part of it. I wanted to bring the trial to an end, get it over with.

When taken outside after lunch, I got my chance.

Seated on a bench in the sun, the guards alongside and behind me, I saw in front of us an empty parking lot, beyond that the open street.

For the first time since my capture there was an opportunity for escape.

The longer I sat there, the more appealing the idea became. It had been years since my college track days, yet, looking at my musclebound guards, I
knew
I could outrun them.

Would they try to shoot me? Probably. Yet that would be an escape too, an end to the trial. And it was just possible, considering
the propaganda use to which the trial was being put, they would hesitate, fearing what their superiors would say. And that hesitation, brief though it might be, would be all I'd need for a head start.

I had no plans as to what I would do on reaching the open street. But that wasn't important. What was important was that after more than one hundred days of captivity I had an opportunity.

I tensed my legs, learned forward slightly.

A guard put his heavy hand on my shoulder. Time to go back in.

I was surrounded again. I'd waited too long, and lost my chance.

With the start of the second session, at four
P.M.
, Rudenko resumed his questioning.

It was a stacked deck. Rudenko, holding all the cards, was dealing them out one by one.

He concentrated now on my surveillance flights along the border.

Had I been in an American court, with an American attorney, he would have immediately objected to such questions as irrelevant and prejudicial, since they bore no connection to the charge against me.

But Grinev said nothing. He had yet to make a single objection. He too was a symbol, his presence giving the appearance of my being represented by counsel. Thus far, where my defense was concerned, he might as well have stayed home.

Rudenko then switched to my earlier use of Peshawar, Giebelstadt, Wiesbaden, and Bodö. He was building up to something, I felt, but I couldn't discern what, when suddenly, without warning, he announced he had no further questions at this time.

It was now Grinev's turn.

When my parents had consulted with him prior to the trial, they were accompanied by Carl McAfee, a lawyer whose office was located above my father's shoe-repair shop in Norton, Virginia. McAfee had prepared a set of photographs of my parents' home and The Pound, to show the poverty of the area and, hopefully, gain the sympathy of the court. After introducing these into evidence, Grinev began his questioning, establishing that I came from a working-class family: that my parents were poor, my father not a capitalist, that is, did not employ any labor in his shoe shop but did all the work himself; and that the money offered me by the CIA was the most I had ever received, and had enabled me to pay my debts and live in relative prosperity for the first time in my life.

Further questions brought out that I was not political, had never
even voted in a U.S. election, knew very little about the Soviet Union except for what I had read in the American press.

I could see what he was trying to do. Though not at all sure this was the best possible defense, it was the only one I had, and, like it or not, I had no choice but to go along with it.

In our brief preparatory sessions, however, I had insisted that certain matters be included in my defense. Though Grinev seemed less convinced than I that they were important, he went into them now.

Q. Was the flight of May 1 your only flight over Soviet territory?

A. Yes, it was the only flight.

Q. Were you consulted about the program of spy flights over the Soviet Union?

A. No, I knew of no such program.

Q. Were you acquainted with the special apparatus on the plane?

A. No, I have never seen any of the special equipment loaded or unloaded. It was never done in my presence. My knowledge of the special equipment was to follow instructions on my map.

Q. Did you know any of the results of your reconnaissance flights?

A. I was never informed of the results of my missions and did not know whether the equipment worked properly, except as indicated by signal lights in the cockpit.