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9. December
2004
German War Secrets By
The Thousands
The not so
widely known revelations about the wholesale theft by the US
of German patents after World War II.
By C. Lester Walker
Harper's
Magazine, October, 1946
Someone wrote to Wright Field
recently, saying he understood this country had got together
quite a collection of enemy war secrets, that many were now
on public sale, and could he, please, be sent everything on
German jet engines. The Air Documents Division of the Army
Air Forces answered:
"Sorry -- but that would be fifty
tons."
Moreover, that fifty tons was just a
small portion of what is today undoubtedly the biggest
collection of captured enemy war secrets ever assembled. If
you always thought of war secrets -- as who hasn't? -- as
coming in sixes and sevens, as a few items of information
readily handed on to the properly interested authorities, it
may interest you to learn that the war secrets in this
collection run into the thousands, that the mass of
documents is mountainous, and that there was never before
been anything quite comparable to it.
The collection is today chiefly in
three places: Wright Field (Ohio), the Library of Congress,
and the Department of Commerce. Wright Field is working from
a documents "mother lode" of fifteen hundred tons. In
Washington, the Office of Technical Services (which has
absorbed the Office of the Publication Board, the government
agency originally set up to handle the collection) reports
that tens of thousands of tons of material are involved. It
is estimated that over a million separate items must be
handled, and that they are, very likely, practically all the
scientific, industrial and military secrets of Nazi Germany.
One Washington official has called
it "the greatest single source of this type of material in
the world, the first orderly exploitation of an entire
country's brain-power."
How the collection came to be goes
back, for beginnings, to one day in 1944 when the Allied
Combined Chiefs of Staff set in motion a colossal search for
war secrets in occupied German territory. They created a
group of military-civilian teams, termed the Joint
Intelligence Objectives Committee, which was to follow the
invading armies into Germany and uncover all her military,
scientific, and industrial secrets for early use against
Japan. These teams worked against time to get the most vital
information before it was destroyed, and in getting it
performed prodigies of ingenuity and tenacity.
At an optical company at Wetzlar,
near Frankfurt, for example, the American colonel
investigating felt positive that the high executives were
holding out on him. But nothing would shake their story:
they had given him everything. He returned next day with a
legal document which he asked them all to sign. It declared
they had turned over "all scientific and trade data; and if
not, would accept the consequences." Two days later they
glumly signed the document, then led the colonel to a cache
in a warehouse wall. From a safe tumbled out the secret
files on optical instruments, microscopy, aiming devices.
One two-man search team found itself
completely stymied. Records that they had to find had
completely disappeared. A rumor indicated they might have
been hidden in a mountain. The two scoured the region in a
jeep. Nothing. But keeping at it, they stumbled one day onto
a small woods road whose entrance was posted: "Achtung!
Minen!" Gingerly, slowly, they inched their jeep in. Nothing
happened. But a concrete dugout sunk in the hill revealed
another sign: "Opening Will Cause Explosion."
"We tossed a coin," one member of
this search team said later, "and the loser hitched the jeep
towrope to the dugout door, held his breath and stepped on
the gas."
There was no explosion. The door
ripped from its hinges. The sought-for secret files were
inside.
The German Patent Office put some of
its most secret patents down a sixteen-hundred-foot mine
shaft at Heringen, then piled liquid oxygen, in cylinders,
on top of them. When the American Joint Intelligence
Objectives team found them, it was doubtful that they could
be saved. They were legible, but in such bad shape that a
trip to the surface would make them disintegrate. Photo
equipment and a crew were therefore lowered into the shaft
and a complete microfilm record made of the patents there.
Perhaps one of the most exciting
searches was also the grimmest. This was the hunt for hidden
documents which might reveal that Nazi scientists had frozen
human beings to death and then tried to bring them back to
life again. Interviewing four Nazi doctors one day in June
1945, at a laboratory of the Institut für
Luftfahrtmedizin, at Gut Hirschau, Bavaria, an American
medical corps major, Leo Alexander, was struck with the
dreadful conviction, despite repeated denials, that this had
occurred.
His suspicions were aroused by three
things. All the small-animal laboratory equipment was
carefully preserved; all large-animal equipment destroyed.
One of the doctors wanted to dissolve his research institute
and dismiss his staff. And none of the scientists could find
any data on human beings at all, not even on those rescued
from North Sea waters and saved by the new revival
techniques. Did this mean that everything of the sort was
hidden away with other data which the doctors didn't want to
show?
Wishing to leave the four Germans in
a frame of mind not to destroy their records, the American
concealed his suspicions, and, for the time being,
transferred his search elsewhere.
Chance suddenly played into his
hands. The Allied radio one night broadcast a grim tale of
the Dachau concentration camp. Researches on death, and
treatment of shock, from exposure to cold had been performed
on prisoners. The broadcast named the leading experimenter,
one Dr. Rascher, and called him a member of the medical
staff of the SS.
For Alexander this was a lead. He
happened just to have learned that the American Seventh Army
had recently captured a vast mass of especially secret SS
records. He therefore headed for the Seventh Army Documents
Center to see what was there.
There was more than he anticipated.
Even to the complete and final report -- Himmler's personal
copy, with his green-penciled annotations, all over it --
with the names of Rascher and all others involved, and
containing all the damning details of the almost
unbelievable experiments.
Victims had been immersed naked in
ice water until they lost consciousness. All the time
elaborate testings were constantly made: rectal, skin, and
interior-of-the-stomach temperatures; pulse, blood sugar,
blood chlorides, blood count and sedimentation; urine tests;
spinal fluid. Appendix 7, Figure 5, showed that seven
subjects were chilled to death beyond revival in from
fifty-three to one hundred and six minutes.
"This table," Alexander commented in
his own report, "is certainly the most laconic confession of
seven murders in existence."
It had been with the rest of the
documents -- in Himmler's private cave in a mountain at
Hallein. Even though the side of the mountain had been
dynamited down over the cave mouth, the American searchers
had found it.
The earliest Joint Intelligence
Objectives search teams were followed by others, which were
to dig out industrial and scientific secrets in particular.
The Technical Industrial Intelligence Committee was one
group of these, composed of three hundred and eighty
civilians representing seventeen American industries. Later
came the teams of the Office of the Publication Board itself
and many more groups direct from private industry. Of the
latter -- called, in Germany, Field Intelligence Agencies,
Technical (FIAT) -- there have been over five hundred; of
one to ten members each, operating by invitation and under
the aegis of the OPB.
Today the search still goes on. The
Office of Technical Services has a European staff of four to
five hundred. At Hoechst, it has one hundred abstracters who
struggle feverishly to keep ahead of the forty OTS
document-recording cameras which route to them each month
over one hundred thousand feet of microfilm.
What did we find? You'd like some
outstanding examples from the war secrets collection?
The head of the communications unit
of Technical Industrial Intelligence Branch opened his desk
drawer and took out the tiniest vacuum tube I had ever seen.
It was about half thumb-size.
"Notice it is heavy porcelain -- not
glass -- and thus virtually indestructible. It is a thousand
watt -- one-tenth the size of similar American tubes. Today
our manufacturers know the secret of making it! .... And
here's something...." He pulled some brown, papery-looking
ribbon off a spool. It was a quarter-inch wide, with a dull
and a shiny side.
"That's Magnetophone tape," he said.
"It's plastic, metallized on one side with iron oxide. In
Germany that supplanted phonograph recordings. A day's radio
program can be magnetized on one reel. You can demagnetize
it, wipe it off and put a new program on at any time. No
needle; so absolutely no noise or record wear. An hour-long
reel costs fifty cents."
He showed me then what had been two
of the most closely-guarded technical secrets of the war:
the infra-red device which the Germans invented for seeing
at night, and the remarkable diminutive generator which
operated it. German cars could drive at any speed in a total
blackout, seeing objects clear as day two hundred meters
ahead. Tanks with this device could spot targets two miles
away. As a sniper scope it enabled German riflemen to pick
off a man in total blackness.
There was a sighting tube, and a
selenium screen out front. The screen caught the incoming
infra-red light, which drove electrons from the selenium
along the tube to another screen which was electrically
charged and fluorescent. A visible image appeared on this
screen. Its clearness and its accuracy for aiming purposes
were phenomenal. Inside the tube, distortion of the stream
of electrons by the earth's magnetism was even allowed for!
The diminutive generator -- five
inches across -- stepped up current from an ordinary
flashlight battery to 15,000 volts. It had a walnut-sized
motor which spun a rotor at 10,000 rpm -- so fast that
originally it had destroyed all lubricants with the great
amount of ozone it produced. The Germans had developed a new
grease: chlorinated paraffin oil. The generator then ran
3,000 hours!
A canvas bag on the sniper's back
housed the device. His rifle had two triggers. He pressed
one for a few seconds to operate the generator and the
scope. Then the other to kill his man in the dark. "That
captured secret," my guide declared, "we first used at
Okinawa -- to-the bewilderment of the Japs."
We got, in addition, among these
prize secrets, the technique and the machine for making the
world's most remarkable electric condenser. Millions of
condensers are essential to the radio and radar industry.
Our condensers were always made of metal foil. This one is
made of paper, coated with 1/250,000 of an inch of vaporized
zinc. Forty per cent smaller, twenty per cent cheaper than
our condensers, it is also self-healing. That is, if a
breakdown occurs (like a fuse blowing out), the zinc film
evaporates, the paper immediately insulates, and the
condenser is right again. It keeps on working through
multiple breakdown -- at fifty per cent higher voltage than
our condensers! To most American radio experts this is
magic, double-distilled.
Mica was another thing. None is
mined in Germany, so during the war our Signal Corps was
mystified. Where was Germany getting it?
One day certain piece of mica was
handed to one of our experts in the U.S. Bureau of Mines for
analysis and opinion. "Natural mica," he reported, "and no
impurities."
But the mica was synthetic. The
Kaiser Wilhelm Institute for Silicate Research had
discovered how to make it and -- something which had always
eluded scientists -- in large sheets.
We know now, thanks to FIAT teams,
that ingredients of natural mica were melted in crucibles of
carbon capable of taking 2,350 degrees of heat, and then --
this was the real secret -- cooled in a special way.
Complete absence of vibration was the first essential. Then
two forces directly perpendicular to each other were
applied. One, vertically, was a controlled gradient of
temperature in the cooling. At right angles to this,
horizontally, was introduced a magnetic field. This forced
the formation of the crystals in large laminated sheets on
that plane.
"You see this . . ." the head of
Communications Unit, TIIB, said to me. It was metal, and
looked like a complicated doll's house with the roof off.
"It is the chassis or frame, for a radio. To make the same
thing, Americans would machine cut, hollow, shape, fit -- a
dozen different processes. This is done on a press in one
operation. It is called the 'cold extrusion' process. We do
it with some soft, splattery metals. But by this process the
Germans do it with cold steel! Thousands of parts now made
as castings or drop forgings or from malleable iron can now
be made this way. The production speed increase is a little
matter of one thousand per cent."
This one war secret alone, many
American steel men believe, will revolutionize dozens of our
metal fabrication industries.
In textiles the war secrets
collection has produced so many revelations, that American
textile men are a little dizzy. There is a German
rayon-weaving machine, discovered a year ago by the American
Knitting Machine Team, which increases production in
relation to floor space by one hundred and fifty percent.
Their "Links-Links" loom produces a ladderless, run-proof
hosiery. New German needle-making machinery, it is thought,
will revolutionize that business in both the United Kingdom
and the United States. There is a German method for pulling
the wool from sheepskins without injury to hide or fiber, by
use of an enzyme. Formerly the "puller" -- a trade secret --
was made from animal pancreas from American packing houses.
During the war the Nazis made it from a mold called aspergil
paraciticus, which they seeded in bran. It results not only
in better wool, but in ten per cent greater yield.
Another discovery was a way to put a
crimp in viscose rayon fibers which gives them the
appearance, warmth, wear resistance, and reaction-to-dyes of
wool. The secret here, our investigators found, was the
addition to the cellulose of twenty-five per cent fish
protein.
But of all the industrial secrets,
perhaps, the biggest windfall came from the laboratories and
plants of the great German cartel, I. G. Farbenindustrie.
Never before, it is claimed, was there such a store-house of
secret information. It covers liquid and solid fuels,
metallurgy, synthetic rubber, textiles, chemicals, plastics,
drugs, dyes. One American dye authority declares:
"It includes the production know-how
and the secret formulas for over fifty thousand dyes. Many
of them are faster and better than ours. Many are colors we
were never able to make. The American dye industry will be
advanced at least ten years."
In matters of food, medicine, and
branches of the military art the finds of the search teams
were no less impressive. And in aeronautics and guided
missiles they proved to be downright alarming.
One of the food secrets the Nazis
had discovered was a way to sterilize fruitjuices without
heat. The juice was filtered, then cooled, then carbonated
and stored under eight atmospheres of carbon-dioxide
pressure. Later the carbon-dioxide was removed; the-juice
passed through another filter -- which, this time,
germ-proofed it -- and then was bottled. Something, perhaps,
for American canners to think about.
Milk pasteurization by ultra-violet
light has always failed in other countries, but the Germans
had found how to do it by using light tubes of great length,
and simultaneously how to enrich the milk with vitamin D.
At a plant in Kiel, British
searchers of the Joint Intelligence Objectives Committee
found that cheese was being made -- "good quality Hollander
and Tilsiter" -- by a new method at unheard-of speed.
"Eighty minutes from the renneting to the hooping of the
curd," report the investigators. The cheese industry around
the world had never been able to equal that.
Butter (in a creamery near Hamburg)
was being produced by something long wished for by American
butter makers: a continuous butter making machine. An
invention of dairy equipment manufacturers in Stuttgart, it
took up less space than American churns and turned out
fifteen hundred pounds an hour. The machine was promptly
shipped to this country to be tested by the American Butter
Institute.
Among other food innovations was a
German way of making yeast in almost limitless quantities.
The waste sulfite liquor from the beechwood used to
manufacture cellulose was treated with an organism known to
bacteriologists as candida arborea at temperatures higher
than ever used in yeast manufacture before. The finished
product served as both animal and human food. Its caloric
value is four times that of lean meat, and it contains twice
as much protein.
The Germans also had developed new
methods of preserving food by plastics and new, advanced
refrigeration techniques. Refrigeration and air-conditioning
on German U-boats had become so efficient that the
submarines could travel from Germany to the Pacific, operate
there for two months, and then return to Germany without
having to take on fresh water for the crew. A secret
plastics mixture (among its ingredients were polyvinyl
acetate, chalk, and talc) was used to coat bread and cheese
A loaf fresh from the oven was dipped, dried, redipped, then
heated half an hour at 285 degrees. It would be unspoiled
and good to eat eight months later.
"As for medical secrets in this
collection," one Army-surgeon has remarked, "some of them
will save American medicine years of research; some of them
are revolutionary -- like, for instance, the German
technique for treatment after prolonged and usually fatal
exposure to cold." This discovery -- revealed to us by Major
Alexander's search already mentioned -- reversed everything
medical science thought about the subject. In every one of
the dread experiments the subjects were most successfully
revived, both temporarily and permanently, by immediate
immersion in hot water. In two cases of complete standstill
of heart and cessation of respiration, a hot bath at 122
degrees brought both subjects back to life. Before our war
with Japan ended, this method was adopted as the treatment
for use by all American Air-Sea Rescue Services, and it is
generally accepted by medicine today.
German medical researchers had
discovered a way to produce synthetic blood plasma. Called
capain, it was made on a commercial scale and equaled
natural plasma in results. Another discovery was periston, a
substitute for the blood liquid. An oxidation production of
adrenalin (adrenichrome) was produced in quantity
successfully only by the Nazis and was used with good
results in combating high blood pressure (of which 750,000
persons die annually in the United States). Today we have
the secret of manufacture and considerable of the supply.
Likewise of great importance
medically were certain researches by Dr. Boris Rojewsky of
the Kaiser Wilhelm Institute of Biophysics at Frankfurt.
These were on the ionization of air as related to health.
Positively ionized air was discovered to have deleterious
effects upon human well-being, and to account for the
discomfort and depression felt at times when the barometer
is falling. In many persons, it was found, its presence
brought on asthma, hay fever, and nervous tension. It raised
high blood pressure, sometimes to the danger point. It would
bring on the symptoms common in mountain sickness -- labored
and rapid breathing, dizziness, fatigue, sleepiness.
Negatively ionized air, however, did
all the opposite. It was exhilarating, creating a feeling of
high spirits and well-being. Mental depression was wiped out
by it. In pathological cases it steadied breathing, reduced
high blood pressure, was a check on allergies and asthma.
The importance of its presence wherever human beings live,
work, or recuperate from illness may some day make its
production one of the major functions of air conditioning.
But of highest significance for the
future were the Nazi secrets in aviation and in various
types of missiles.
"The V-2 rocket, which bombed London," an Army Air Force
publication reports, "was just a toy compared to what the
Germans had up their sleeve."
When the war ended, we now know,
they had 138 types of guided missiles in various stages of
production or development, using every known kind of remote
control and fuse: radio, radar, wire, continuous wave,
acoustics, infra-red, light beams, and magnetics, to name
some; and for power, all methods of jet propulsion for
either subsonic or supersonic speeds.
Jet propulsion had even been applied
to helicopter flight. The fuel was piped to combustion
chambers at the rotor blade tips, where it exploded,
whirling: the blades around like a lawn sprinkler or
pinwheel.
As for rocket propulsion, their A-4
rocket, which was just getting into large scale production
when the war ended, was forty-six feet long, weighed over
24,000 pounds, and traveled 230 miles. It rose sixty miles
above the earth and had a maximum speed of 3,735 miles an
hour -- three times that of the earth's rotation at the
equator. The secret of its supersonic speed, we know today,
lay in its rocket motor which used liquid oxygen and alcohol
for fuel. It was either radio controlled or self-guided to
its target by gyroscopic means. Since its speed was
supersonic, it could not be heard before it struck.
Another German rocket which was
coming along was the A-9. This was bigger still -- 29,000
pounds -- and had wings which gave it a flying range of
3,000 miles. It was manufactured at the famous
Peenemünde army experiment station and achieved the
unbelievable speed of 5,870 miles an hour.
A long range rocket-motored bomber
which, the war documents indicate, was never completed
merely because of the war's quick ending, would have been
capable of flight from Germany to New York in forty minutes.
Pilot-guided from a pressurized cabin, it would have flown
at an altitude of 154 miles. Launching was to be by catapult
at 500 miles an hour, and the ship would rise to its maximum
altitude in as short a time as four minutes. There, fuel
exhausted, it would glide through the outer atmosphere,
bearing down on its target. With one hundred bombers of this
type the Germans hoped to destroy any city on earth in a few
days' operations.
Little wonder, then, that today Army
Air Force experts declare publicly that in rocket power and
guided missiles the Nazis were ahead of us by at least ten
years.
The Germans even had devices ready
which would take care of pilots forced to leave supersonic
planes in flight. Normally a pilot who stuck his head out at
such speeds would have it shorn off. His parachute on
opening would burst in space. To prevent these calamitous
happenings an ejector seat had been invented which flung the
pilot clear instantaneously. His chute was already burst,
that is, made of latticed ribbons which checked his fall
only alter the down-drag of his weight began to close its
holes.
A Nazi variation of the guided air
missile was a torpedo for underwater work which went
unerringly to its mark, drawn by the propeller sound of the
victim ship from as far away as ten miles. This missile swam
thirty feet below the water, at forty miles an hour, and
left no wake. When directly under its target, it exploded.
All such revelations naturally raise
the question: was Germany so far advanced in air, rocket,
and missile research that, given a little more time, she
might have won the war? Her war secrets, as now disclosed,
would seem to indicate that possibility. And the Deputy
Commanding General of Army Air Forces Intelligence, Air
Technical Service Command, has told the Society of
Aeronautical Engineers within the past few months:
"The Germans were preparing rocket
surprises for the whole world in general and England in
particular which would have, it is believed, changed the
course of the war if the invasion had been postponed for so
short a time as half a year."
For the release and dissemination of
all these one-time secrets the Office of the Publication
Board was established by an order of President Truman within
ten days after Japan surrendered. The order directed that
not only enemy war secrets should be published, but also
(with some exceptions) all American secrets, scientific and
technical, of all government war boards. (The Office of
Scientific Research and Development, the National Research
Council, and other such.) And thereby was created what is
being termed now the biggest publishing problem a government
agency ever had to handle.
For the war secrets, which
conventionally used to be counted in scores, will run to
three-quarters of a million separate documentary items
(two-thirds of them on aeronautics) and will require several
years and several hundreds of people to screen and prepare
them for wide public use.
Today translators and abstracters of
the Office of Technical Services, successor to the OPB, arc
processing them at the rate of about a thousand a week.
Indexing and cataloguing the part of the collection which
will be permanently kept may require more than two millions
cards; and at Wright Field the task is so complicated that
electric punch-card machines are to be installed. A whole
new glossary of German-English terms has had to be compiled
-- something like forty thousand words on new technical and
scientific items.
With so many documents, it has, of
course, been impossible because of time and money
limitations to reprint or reproduce more than a very few. To
tell the public what is available, therefore, the OTS issues
a bibliography weekly. This contains the newest war secrets
information as released -- with titles, prices of copies
currently available or to be made up, and an abstract of
contents.
The original document, or the
microfilm copy, is then generally sent to the Library of
Congress, which is now the greatest depository. To make them
more easily accessible to the public, the Library sends
copies, when enough are available, to about 125 so-called
"depository" libraries throughout the United States.
And is the public doing anything
with these one-time war secrets? It is -- it is eating them
up. As many as twenty thousand orders have been filled in a
month, and the order rate is now a thousand items a day.
Scientists and engineers declare that the information is
"cutting years from the time we would devote to problems
already scientifically investigated." And American business
men ...! A run through the Publication Board's letters file
shows the following;
The Bendix Company in South Bend,
Indiana, writes for a German patent on the record player
changer "with records stacked above the turntable."
Pillsbury Mills wants to have what is available on German
flour and bread production methods. Kendall Manufacturing
Company ("Soapine") wants insect repellent compounds.
Pioneer Hi-Bred Corn Company, Iowa, asks about
"interrogation of research workers at the agricultural high
school at Hohenheim." Pacific Mills requests I. G.
Farbenindustrie's water-repellent, crease-resistant finish
for spun rayon. The Polaroid Company would like something on
"the status of exploitation of photography and optics in
Germany." (There are, incidentally, ten to twenty thousand
German patents yet to be screened.)
The most insatiable customer is
Amtorg, the Soviet Union's foreign trade organization. One
of its representatives walked into the Publication Board
office with the bibliography in hand and said, "I want
copies of everything." The Russians sent one order in May
for $5,594.50 worth -- two thousand separate war secrets
reports. In general, they buy every report issued.
Americans, too, think there is
extraordinarily good prospecting in the war secrets lode.
Company executives practically park on the OTS's front
doorstep, wanting to be first to get hold of a particular
report on publication. Some information is so valuable that
to get it a single day ahead of a competitor, may be worth
thousands of dollars. But the OTS takes elaborate
precautions to be sure that no report is ever available to
anyone before general public release.
After a certain American aircraft
company had ordered a particular captured war document, it
was queried as to whether the information therein had made
it or saved it any money. The cost of the report had been a
few dollars. The company answered: "Yes -- at least a
hundred thousand dollars."
A research head of another business
firm took notes for three hours in the OTS offices one day.
"Thanks very much," he said, as he stood to go, "the notes
from these documents are worth at least half a million
dollars to my company."
And after seeing the complete report
on the German synthetic fiber industry, one American
manufacturer remarked: "This report would be worth twenty
million dollars to my company if it could have it
exclusively."
Of course you, and anybody else, can
now have it, and lots of other once secret information, for
a few dollars. All the war secrets, as released, are
completely in the public domain.
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