SOVIET DELTA SUBMARINE FIRING SS-N-18 MISSILES - Edward L. Cooper, 1987 for the Defense Intelligence Agency
In late 1955 Walker joined the Navy as a radioman and served on board a destroyer escort before joining the crew of the aircraft carrier USS Forrestal (CV-59). While on shore leave in Boston during the winter of 1957, he met Barbara Crowley. They married soon afterward, and children followed, three daughters by 1960. After qualifying at submarine school, Walker was assigned to the Razorback (SS-394) for a Pacific deployment. While serving in her, Walker, then a petty officer, received his top secret cryptographic clearance and passed the Personnel Reliability Program, a psychological evaluation to ensure that only the most reliable personnel have access to nuclear weapons.
His submarine participated in surveillance missions off the Soviet port of Vladivostok and in the flotilla observing the July 1962 Starfish Prime high-altitude nuclear test. Walker’s efficiency reports were uniformly excellent, and he was assigned to the Blue Crew of the Polaris ballistic missile submarine Andrew Jackson (SSBN-619), then under construction at Mare Island Naval Shipyard. On board the boat, Walker impressed the executive officer enough that when he was named to command the Gold Crew of the Simon Bolivar (SSBN-641), he recruited the petty officer to lead his radio room. Walker first qualified on maintenance of cryptographic equipment in early 1963. Along the way, he passed his high school general education degree exams as well as Navy promotion tests, rising through grades to chief petty officer and warrant officer. These were the makings of a fine enlisted career. Ten years in, John Walker had served with some distinction on board half a dozen vessels, was a plank owner on a pair of “boomers,” had attained warrant officer rank, and had run the radio shop of a nuclear missile submarine.
Life, however, grated on Smilin’ Jack. Walker disliked the impersonal nature of his big ships, and his membership in the tight-knit crews of smaller vessels was long behind him. The lengthy underwater patrols in the ballistic missile subs, during which there were just a handful of brief communications with home, tried him.
Those cruises were also hard on his family, which by now included a son, Michael Lance. Meeting the kids all over again after a patrol was difficult for everyone, and according to Walker, he discovered Barbara philandering with family members, ignoring the household, and - shades of his father - drinking more and more. Walker seems to have despised the Navy for encouraging alcoholism among Sailors and their families. He invested his savings in land outside Charleston, South Carolina, planning to build a car park to give his wife a constructive outlet. He later opened a bar on the property instead, but the marginal venture left Warrant Officer Walker strapped for cash. Casting about for some means of righting his financial boat, he drove a cab and shuttled rental cars among cities, but it was not enough.
A Second Career
Espionage became Walker’s way out, though in his telling political disaffection also played a role. He suspected John F. Kennedy’s assassination had been engineered by government and corporate leaders intent on preventing the President from toning down the Cold War. In his memoir, Walker recounted his intellectual evolution from 1950s John Bircher to Cold War denier. He said he began to realize the Soviets were not the aggressive adversary Americans feared. “The farce of the cold war and the absurd war machine it spawned,” he commented, “was an ever-growing pathetic joke to me.”
One bracing fall day in October 1967 Chief Warrant Officer Walker, then assigned as a watch officer at Atlantic Fleet Submarine Force headquarters in Norfolk, decided to correct the military balance - and balance his checkbook - by leaking top secret information to Moscow. Taking the first step, he photocopied a document at headquarters and slipped the copy in his pocket. The next day he hopped into his red 1964 MG sports car, drove to Washington, walked into the Soviet Embassy, and asked to see security personnel.
Yakov Lukasevics, an internal security specialist at the embassy, had no idea what to do with the American who came bearing documents and said he wanted to spy. The papers, however, needed to be evaluated, and so he telephoned the KGB rezident , or station chief, Boris A. Solomatin. KGB rezidenturas (stations) were wary of walk-ins, persons who spontaneously offered their services. The Soviets even used the term “well-wishers” to denote such persons. And the idea of an American striding right into the Soviet Embassy in Washington, which was under constant FBI surveillance, immediately suggested a trap.
"I have an interesting man here who walked in off the street," Lukasevics told Solomatin. "Someone must come down who speaks better English."
Another KGB man presently spoke to Walker, who identified himself and said he wanted to earn money and “make arrangements for cooperation.” The KGB officer then took the documents upstairs to Solomatin. As it happened, the 43-year old rezident was a naval buff, having grown up in the Black Sea port of Odessa. Solomatin recognized that some of Walker’s documents concerned U.S. submarines, vessels that particularly plagued the Soviet Fleet. Of greater importance, the National Security Agency (NSA) document Walker had purloined before leaving work listed the following month’s settings for the American KL-47 encryption machine. The Soviets had already received some NSA papers from a different spy, and after comparing markings and format realized Walker’s settings document, called a key list, was genuine.
On the spot Solomatin decided to take a chance. For a KGB station chief personally to meet a prospective agent was unprecedented, but Solomatin spent the next two hours talking privately with Walker. The American favorably impressed him by saying nothing about love for communism, which most phonies emphasized. This was strictly business. Walker received a few thousand dollars cash as a down payment and was smuggled off the embassy compound in a car. Thus began the Navy’s most damaging spy case.
Solomatin, who had not previously paid special attention to the U.S. Navy, now boned up on the subject. He kept a very tight rein on the Walker operation, assigning Oleg Kalugin, his deputy for political intelligence (Line PR), as the American’s manager and Yuri Linkov, a naval spy, as his case officer. Kalugin spent weeks driving around the Washington area to identify and carefully record spots for “dead drops,” places Walker would deposit packages of intelligence and pick up cash and instructions. During a meeting outside a northern Virginia department store within a month of Walker’s embassy visit, the warrant officer handed over a bigger pile of Navy documents, and Linkov gave him the locations for his first few drops-offs plus more money. Those were the only face-to-face meetings the KGB had with John Walker for a decade. Some versions of the tale maintain that his espionage began in 1968; however, Solomatin, Kalugin, and Walker all agree that it began in October 1967 at the Soviet Embassy.
Only a handful of other KGB officials ever had anything to do with Walker. A stovepipe fed his material to the deputy chief of the First Directorate, the KGB’s foreign intelligence unit, and just a couple of assistants. Awarded the Order of the Red Banner for Walker’s recruitment, Solomatin was promoted to deputy chief of intelligence. In 1968, when the KGB created the Sixteenth Directorate, its counterpart to NSA, the Walker case passed from Line PR to the new agency, but the tight security surrounding it was preserved.
Whether the KGB had an immediate use for Walker’s KL-47 key list is still not clear. In early January 1968, however, the spy delivered to the Soviets a KW-7 encryption machine key list that would quickly prove useful. Later that month, North Korea captured the spy ship USS Pueblo (AGER-2) in international waters and with it a KW-7 device along with manuals and other documents. According to historian Mitchell B. Lerner, a leading authority on the affair, within two days of seizing the Pueblo , North Korea dispatched an aircraft to Moscow containing almost 800 pounds of cargo, presumably from the spy ship. The KGB quickly dispatched a team of intelligence experts to the port of Wonsan, North Korea, where the vessel had been taken. U.S. intelligence detected transmission of an enormous fax to Moscow, presumably the texts of manuals for cryptographic equipment on board the Pueblo . Thereafter, Moscow had continued access to American naval communications until the U.S. system was entirely changed.
Life As a Spy
John Walker’s trickle of intelligence meanwhile became a flood. According to Walker’s account, he mostly supplied the Soviets with old key lists - much less zealously guarded - and the KGB never pressed him for current or future ones. In fact, the Soviets advised Walker to avoid future material as well as maintenance manuals. Also, their plan for clandestine drops provided for only two per year, and he claimed that the KGB never demanded more frequent exchanges, which means their take of current/future material had to be limited to a couple of months annually.
Walker also maintained that much of what he gave the Soviets concerned such obsolescent systems as the World War II - vintage KL-47, which featured a seven-rotor encryption machine similar to the German Enigma, and the KW-37, an early online, or automated, encryption system. As for the later-generation KW-7 system, Walker said he only provided the Soviets with its key lists for random future dates. Probably few commentators accept his version of what he handed over. If his claim that the KGB showed no desire for current or future keys is accurate, it puts an interesting light on Soviet gains from his espionage.
Walker nevertheless provided a huge array of other secret Navy and U.S. documents to America’s Cold War adversary. These included operational orders, war plans, technical manuals, and intelligence digests. The KGB devised and furnished its spy with an electronic device that could read the KL-47’s rotor wiring and gave him a miniature Minox camera. At Norfolk, he used his status as an armed forces courier to smuggle documents from headquarters to his bachelor officer quarters (BOQ) room, where he photographed them. There was such a stream of papers he had to be selective. Walker estimated that photographing just 20 of the hundreds of messages that crossed his desk during a watch would have required more than 100 rolls of film over six months, yet initially everything he left at a dead drop needed to fit inside a single soda can.
Later, while on training duty at San Diego, Walker had less access to top secret documents and had to rely on a classified library. Smuggling out material meant getting it past multiple checkpoints staffed by Marine guards. He also forged the papers required to show renewal of his security clearance. This spy enjoyed amazingly good fortune.
But John Walker’s luck ran out with his family. He sometimes spent nights at the BOQ instead of the family’s home. Barbara Walker had suspected her husband of sexual adventures - true, as it happened - and looked through his things. Family financial problems that had seemed insuperable were suddenly solved. Walker pointed to his moonlighting as the source of his money, but Barbara remained unconvinced. And then, within a year of her husband becoming a spy, she found a grocery bag in which Walker had secreted a pile of classified documents. Confronted with the discovery, he admitted to his espionage and took Barbara along to one of his dead drops in a dubious attempt to involve her in his crime. From the beginning, the KGB had warned Walker never to reveal anything to his wife or other family members. Though Barbara did nothing immediately, the seeds of John Walker’s downfall were planted.
On the West Coast and while assigned to the combat stores ship Niagara Falls (AFS-3), the spy’s journeys to drop his gleanings to the KGB became much more onerous. One 1972 drop required a flight from Vietnam to the United States, a brief cover visit home, and then rejoining his ship in Hong Kong. When Walker returned to Norfolk to work at Amphibious Force Atlantic headquarters in the summer of 1974, the problems were ameliorated, but the transfer conflicted with his desire to remain afloat and away from Barbara.
The naval spy’s solution was to retire from the Navy. He believed that he could then work more effectively as a network manager, delivering to the Soviets information gathered by others. By the time he separated from the service, Walker had already begun dabbling in private investigating. Later, he took a job at Wackenhut and then opened his own firm. He also divorced Barbara, but not before again bringing her along to one of his drop sites.
Building the Ring
John Walker’s network began with an old Navy friend, Senior Chief Petty Officer Jerry Whitworth, also a radioman, who had left the service but re-enlisted in the fall of 1974. He then volunteered for a billet at Diego Garcia, a previous duty station. Whitworth was active by the summer of 1975, when Walker put in for retirement. The more experienced spy forwarded many packets of Whitworth’s intelligence to the KGB. Possibly the best resulted from his tour on board the Niagara Falls in the same post Walker once held. When the ship went into dry dock, Whitworth was reassigned to Naval Communications Center Alameda. There, however, he found that clandestinely photographing documents was harder. Walker bought a van, for which the Soviets reimbursed him, in which Whitworth could do his camerawork while it sat in a parking lot near work.
With Walker free to travel after his retirement and Whitworth delivering the goods, the spymaster offered the Soviets more frequent intelligence deliveries. Again the KGB specifically refused, although it invited Walker to a face-to-face meeting in Casablanca in the summer of 1977 during which his Soviet contact denounced his recruitment of a new agent. Walker agreed to annual clandestine meetings in Vienna and not to bring in any more agents. He later claimed that during one of the sidewalk encounters in the Austrian capital he was secreted away and debriefed by a group of men who included KGB Chairman Yuri Andropov. Others claim that Andropov personally oversaw Walker’s espionage, which was unlikely.
In late 1980, a visit to Alameda by a Naval Investigative Service (NIS) team to solve a rape case frightened Whitworth. He not only became skittish but also pecuniary, deliberately ruining a batch of his photographs in an attempt to get the KGB to pay twice. Whitworth carried off a foot-high stack of documents from his last post on board the Enterprise (CVN-65) with the intent to continue delivering his stream of classified information after leaving the Navy, which he did in October 1983. Among the materials the Soviets obtained from him were cable traffic plus photographs of, and some key lists for, the KW-7, KY-8, KG-14, KWR-37, and KL-47 cryptographic systems. Though older crypto setups predominated, the take included data on the newest U.S. secure phone system.
Aware of Whitworth’s increasing reluctance to spy and despite Walker’s promises to the KGB, in 1983 the spymaster solicited his son, Michael, a freshly minted yeoman on board the Nimitz (CVN-68) who worked in the ship’s administration office. (In 1979 he had attempted but failed to draw in his youngest daughter, Laura Walker Snyder, who was then in the Army but pregnant and planning to leave the service.) Michael copied more than 1,500 documents for the KGB, including material on weapon systems, nuclear weapons control, command procedures, hostile identification and stealth methods, and contingency target lists. He also included such ordinary items as copies of the Nimitz ship’s newspaper.
Owing money to the spymaster, Arthur L. Walker, John’s older brother who was a retired Navy lieutenant commander working for a defense contractor, played the game. He produced repair records on certain warships plus damage-control manuals for another. John Walker’s rationalizations aside, this “family of spies” approach to espionage was a security breach waiting to happen, since suspicion of any family member would likely result in questioning of others, and the master spy was perfectly aware that Barbara Walker harbored nothing but ill-will toward him.
End of Walker’s Espionage
A most troubling aspect of the Walker affair is how it could have gone on for 18 years without authorities uncovering the leak. There is no indication that counterintelligence was even aware of, much less moving to combat, the Walker network. Norfolk FBI spy catcher Robert W. Hunter claimed he knew that an “elusive master spy … was out there,” but no attention focused on Walker until he was given away.
John Walker’s operational security finally cracked in 1984, and fissures opened at every seam. That May Jerry Whitworth, afflicted with guilt or anxious to make a deal, opened an anonymous correspondence with the FBI in San Francisco using the name “RUS” and offering dark secrets. Whitworth, however, could not bring himself to follow through, and the FBI special agents involved were unable to track him down. In the end the RUS letters would be connected to John Walker, but only after the fact.
Then Barbara Walker denounced her ex-husband to the FBI. In November, after daughter Laura convinced her to speak to authorities, Barbara told the FBI field office in Boston that she had important information, and on 29 November a special agent from Hyannis interviewed her. The spy’s ex-wife told him of her growing suspicion of her husband as far back as the 1960s, his admission to spying, and her accompanying Walker to dead drops near Washington. She described actions in those deliveries that dovetailed with KGB techniques.
The agent, however, noted in his report that Barbara appeared to have been drinking when she greeted him at her door and that during the interview she drank a large glass of vodka. She was also evasive when asked why she had not reported the spying earlier. He surmised that her allegations could be the result of her alcohol abuse and ill feelings toward her ex-husband, graded her information as meriting no follow-up, and sent the report to Boston, where it was filed away.
A month later, an FBI supervisor making a routine quarterly check of inactive files noted the Barbara Walker report and forwarded it to the bureau’s Norfolk office because the alleged espionage centered there. Joseph R. Wolfinger, special agent in charge at Norfolk, obtained headquarters’ approval to open an investigation. On 25 February he assigned the case to Robert Hunter, who had brought the Boston report to his attention.
The pieces then quickly fell into place. Laura Walker Snyder was interviewed about her father’s attempt to recruit her and added details to her mother’s account, though both Laura and Barbara were recognized as having personal problems that would make them not fully credible witnesses. In early March, headquarters authorized a full field investigation, code-named Windflyer, involving its foreign counterintelligence unit. The Naval Investigative Service also came into play since Michael Walker, a suspect by then, was an active-duty Sailor. Laura Snyder telephoned her father at the behest of the FBI, which recorded the conversation in which he evinced interest in her rejoining the military or perhaps the CIA. The FBI tapped Walker’s phones, and the NIS interviewed hundreds of persons who had known him and obtained a confession from Michael on board the Nimitz .
The end for John Walker finally came on 20 May when the FBI arrested him after confiscating 127 classified documents from the Nimitz that he had left at a dead drop. A search of his home turned up plentiful evidence of the spy ring, including records of payments to “D” (Jerry Whitworth), who turned himself in to authorities on 3 June. Brother Arthur was also arrested.
In exchange for limits to his charges, John Walker made a deal to discuss his espionage in detail and plead guilty, and Michael also copped a plea. Arthur Walker was tried in August and found guilty. Whitworth went before a court in the spring of 1986. At his trial John Walker retaliated for the RUS letters, which would have betrayed him, by painting his friend’s participation in the starkest terms. Found guilty, Whitworth was fined $410,000 and given 365 years in prison. As for the Walkers, Arthur was sentenced to three life terms plus a $250,000 fine, John received a life term, and Michael 25 years. In February 2000 Michael Walker was released for good behavior. John and Arthur Walker, meanwhile, will be eligible for parole in 2015.
Assessing the Damage
Many observers believe the Walker spy ring created the most damaging security breach of the Cold War. Director of Naval Intelligence Rear Admiral William O. Studeman declared that no sentence a court could impose would atone for its “unprecedented damage and treachery.” Secretary of the Navy John H. Lehman tried to overturn John Walker’s plea agreement but was restrained by Secretary Weinberger. Oleg Kalugin, the KGB officer who had first managed Walker, wrote that his was “by far the most spectacular spy case I handled in the United States.” Walker and his colleagues compromised a huge array of secrets. Jonathan Pollard, another naval spy apprehended during 1985, the Year of the Spy, gave Israel a greater quantity of documents (estimated at 1.2 million pages), but the Walker material, with its cryptographic secrets, has to be judged as the worse loss.
Soviet spy chief Boris Solomatin offered a more nuanced perspective when author Pete Earley interviewed him in Moscow nearly ten years after Walker’s arrest. Refusing to compare the Walker case with that of former CIA counterintelligence officer Aldrich Ames, another high-profile spy for the Soviet Union, he observed that agents must be judged on the content of the information they deliver. Ames provided the names of Russians spying for the United States and thus affected the KGB-CIA espionage war. Ames’ information “would have been used to identify traitors,” he said. “That is a one-time event. But Walker’s information not only provided us with ongoing intelligence, but helped us over time to understand and study how your military actually thinks.” John Walker had been the Soviets’ key source on Navy submarine missile forces, which Solomatin viewed as the main component of the American nuclear triad. The KGB spymaster also noted that Walker helped both superpowers avoid nuclear war by enabling Moscow to appreciate true U.S. intentions - a goal the American articulated as one of his aims.
Among the still-murky aspects of the Walker affair is the question of what impact his intelligence had on the Vietnam War. While on board the Niagara Falls , Walker served in the combat theater, so he is believed to have compromised the Navy’s theater cipher settings. Oleg Kalugin maintained that the North Vietnamese benefited from the Walker intelligence. Observers claimed Moscow gave Hanoi data enabling North Vietnam to anticipate B-52 strikes and naval air operations. Solomatin, however, disputed that.
As deputy chief of the KGB’s First Directorate, Solomatin himself helped decide what intelligence went to Hanoi, as well as the Soviet Union’s other allies. He asserted that little was shared and it was given in the most general terms, precisely to avoid exposing the KGB’s prize agent. The logic is inescapable. A CIA operation would have been run the same way.
Even without the B-52 charge, the John Walker spy ring was enormously damaging to United States security. In the history of Cold War espionage only a handful of spies operated as long as Walker (British intelligence official Kim Philby and FBI agent Robert Hanssen are the obvious comparisons), and none had comparable access to military secrets. No spy ring ever functioned as long as Walker’s without the other side becoming aware of a leak. While some specific secrets compromised during the Cold War, such as information about the atomic bomb, were intrinsically more valuable than Walker’s, no agent supplied such consistently high-grade intelligence over an equivalent time frame. As Boris Solomatin noted: “You Americans like to call him the ’ spy of the decade.’ Perhaps you are right.”
From USNI (U.S. Naval Institute: http://www.usni.org/magazines/navalhistory/2010-06/navys-biggest-betrayal)
Christopher Andrew and Vasili Mitrokhin, The Sword and the Shield: The Mitrokhin Archive and the Secret History of the KGB (Basic Books, 1999).
John Barron, Breaking the Ring: The Bizarre Case of the Walker Family Spy Ring (Houghton-Mifflin Company, 1987).
Howard Blum, I Pledge Allegience … The True Story of the Walkers: An American Spy Family (Simon & Schuster, 1987).
Peter Earley, Family of Spies: Inside the John Walker Spy Ring (Bantam, 1988).
Peter Earley, “Boris Solomatin Interview,” Crime Library on truTV.com, http://www.trutv.com/library/
crime/terrorists_spies/spies/solomatin/1.html ? print+yes
Robert W. Hunter and Lynn Dean Hunter, Spy Hunter: Inside the FBI Investigation of the Walker Espionage Case (Naval Institute Press, 1999).
Oleg Kalugin, The First Directorate (St. Martin’s Press, 1994).
Mitchell B. Lerner, The Pueblo Incident: A Spy Ship and the Failure of American Foreign Policy (University Press of Kansas, 2002).
Ronald J. Olive, Capturing Jonathan Pollard: How One of the Most Notorious Spies in American History Was Brought to Justice (Naval Institute Press, 2006).
John Prados, The Soviet Estimate: U.S. Intelligence Analysis and Soviet Strategic Forces (Princeton University Press, 1986).
Frank J. Rafalko, ed. A Counterintelligence Reader: vol. 3, Post World War II to the Closing of the 20th Century (National Counterintelligence Center, 2004).
John A. Walker Jr., My Life as a Spy: One of America’s Most Notorious Spies Finally Tells His Story (Prometheus Books, 2008).
"Into the MG, a stop for gas, and I was on my way. I would figure out where the embassy was after I arrived in DC.
Hours later, skirting Richmond on the bypass and to I-95 North, I was about halfway there. Traffic was bad, but at least I would be going into the city when the floodgate spilled thousands of civil servants to the out-bound routes. There are some three hundred and eighty thousand of them in Washington alone.
Nearing the city at last, I passed the Pentagon on my left, five concentric buildings, a skyscraper lying in pieces on its side. The home of the Department of Defense and my bosses, it was so designed to prevent it standing higher than the Capitol.
I crossed the Potomac, the gray purlieu of the city spread before me, a few monuments poking up in the distance. I exited quickly to a side street, somewhere around G and 6th streets, and parked near a phone booth not more than a half mile from the Capitol. The street was quiet, few cars and no people. The nearby Potomac and Washington channel gave off that low-tide smell.
Espionage was terra incognita to me. With no training and a dislike of spy novels, I had no guidance for making contact. I had read of failed and somewhat silly attempts in intelligence reports. One individual sought out a Soviet embassy employee’s residence and placed a package on his doorstep during the night. That package contained samples of secret documents and instructions on a meeting place. The Russian saw the package the next morning and, fearing a bomb, called the police. One need not guess who made the meeting with the aspiring spy.
Another ambitious fellow was seen trying to toss a note over the Soviet embassy wall in Mexico City. The local police arrested him, ending his career before it began.
Top up on the car, driving jacket off, I slipped into a sport coat. With slacks, dress shoes, and open-collar dress shirt, I did my best to look like a Washington office worker. The phone book revealed the embassy address to be 1126 16th Street, NW. Parking in front or even near the embassy would be foolish. Dime in the slot, I called a taxi - they would pick up from a street in the corner those days. Directing the driver to the corner of the 1000 block of 16th Street, I payed the fare and strolled toward the 1100 block.
A personal axiom of mine is the principle of KISS: Keep it simple, stupid. Why not just hide in plain sight? The least likely expectation is for a prospective spy to walk right in the front door. If I was photographed, identification would be nearly impossible. The worst risk would be during my departure; I might be pounced upon and arrested as I left. Or worse, followed, identified, and arrested at my next meeting. I decided that the Soviets would be aware of surveillance and would advise me on how to leave the building.
I reached the 1100 block far too quickly. It was that time of half-light, the darkness was pressing down. Taut with tension, I felt the adrenaline kick in again as the stress increased. With little pedestrian or vehicular traffic, I checked for obvious surveillance while searching for obscure building addresses. Eventually I walked slightly past the embassy, a stately old gray mansion. Having passed it, I continued to the next corner searching for watchers. Seeing none, I backtracked to the building, arriving just as a car was exiting the driveway. A man walked from the departing car to the front door, so I casually fell in behind. In fact, he was startled to discover my presence as he began to close the door. I simply stepped into the twenty-foot-high entry foyer and asked to speak to “someone in security.” He mumbled something to an equally surprised receptionist and quickly scurried off.
As I observed the ornate staircase and cold interior, I had a gnawing feeling of being in forbidden territory, no longer in the United States. Indeed, the embassy is technically an extension of Soviet property, so my feet stood in the Soviet Union as though instantly teleported there.
Moments later, Boris Aleksandrovich Solomatin (I would not learn his name until he wrote his book many years later) entered the foyer, shook my hand, and escorted me to an office just off the foyer. In suit and tie, Solomatin had a strong dauntless air about him and yet a rare warmth,. He asked me how he could be of service. I produced a keylist and said, “I am interested in supplying US classiied material and I expect financial compensation for doing so.” He studied the document for a moment and asked my name.” - My Life as a Spy, John A. Walker Jr.
SPY RING MASTERMIND JOHN WALKER DIES IN N.C. PRISON
By Denise M. Watson, The Virginian-Pilot, August 30, 2014
Nine months before he was to become a free man again, the mastermind of one of America’s most devastating spy rings has died in federal prison.
For 18 years, John A. Walker Jr. sold U.S. secrets to the Soviets, both as a cryptologist in the Navy in Norfolk and after he retired. It was estimated that he pocketed about $1 million.
He eventually enlisted espionage help from his brother Arthur; his son, Michael; and a Navy friend, Jerry Whitworth.
The security breach was considered one of the biggest in the nation’s history.
Walker, 77, had been sentenced in 1986 to two life terms, plus 10 years, but his actual prison stay was to have been much shorter because of federal parole guidelines at the time. He had suffered health issues in recent years, including throat cancer. The cause of his death Thursday was not released.
Robert Hunter, the FBI agent who arrested him, described him as one of the most treacherous men he’d ever met.
"I think the man was pure evil," said Hunter, who is retired and lives in Virginia Beach.
Walker’s espionage career began in 1967 while he was working at what is now Norfolk Naval Station. He stole and sold to the Soviet Union “key cards,” which allowed its intelligence officers to unlock more than 1 million top secret and classified messages.
High-ranking Soviet officials later would say that Walker’s information allowed them to have an invisible seat at the Pentagon: They could monitor the Atlantic Fleet, for instance, and follow U.S. troop movements around the world.
Many speculated that the Soviets shared the information with their allies, including the North Vietnamese during the late 1960s and early ’70s, and that Americans were killed in the Vietnam War because of Walker’s deception.
The information Walker gathered was considered invaluable to America’s most feared Cold War enemy.
"If there had been a war," a Soviet defector once said, "we would have won it."
John Anthony Walker Jr. was born in the nation’s capital July 28, 1937, the second of three boys. The family followed the father to jobs in several locations, including Richmond, and eventually settled in Pennsylvania.
John Walker was the most reckless of the children, becoming a petty thief and dropping out of high school. His older brother, Arthur, who was in the Navy, persuaded a judge to allow Walker to join the military and straighten out his life.
John Walker signed up for the Navy in 1955, married and had four children.
He began spying shortly after being stationed in Norfolk. Nine years later, in 1976, he retired after becoming concerned that he couldn’t continue to steal secrets without being caught. He had faked a security clearance once in his career and did not think he could do it again.
After leaving the military, Walker opened a detective agency in Virginia Beach and often disguised himself, sometimes as a priest or a newspaper reporter, while digging up information.
He also began to look for others who were in the military who had access to classified information.
Walker found a partner in crime in his son, Michael, who had joined the Navy and stole documents from what is now Oceana Naval Air Station in Virginia Beach and the aircraft carrier Nimitz.
In the early 1980s, John Walker encouraged Arthur to get a job with a military contractor and photocopy classified documents pertaining to ships.
John Walker’s friend Jerry Whitworth, stationed in California, copied documents from several duty stations, including some where Walker had worked.
The Soviets had warned their top spy not to tell friends and family about his activities, but Walker’s wife, Barbara, learned of his activities in the late 1960s.
The couple divorced in 1976, and she tipped off the FBI eight years later after learning her ex-husband had tried to recruit one of their daughters into the spy ring. She did not know their son was involved.
The FBI began trailing Walker, and he was living in Norfolk when he was arrested in May 1985. Agents had followed him from his Ocean View home to the Maryland outskirts of Washington and tracked him leaving classified documents for a Soviet contact.
The discovery of Walker’s espionage shook the military. Shortly after his arrest, the Navy changed the way its personnel handled classified information. The Department of Defense established a review committee to examine its policies and incorporated tougher security procedures that remain in place today.
People who worked with him, and FBI agents who later arrested him, called him not only arrogant but also perhaps a sociopath, because of both his espionage and his recruitment of family and friends into his web.
Michael Bell met Walker in the early 1980s when Bell started managing a security company that employed Walker. In a recent interview, Bell said he did not like Walker the minute he saw him. Walker liked to brag about his boat and plane, and Bell heard from clients that Walker, as an investigator, would often lie and stage events to doctor evidence. Bell learned after Walker’s arrest that the spy had even wiretapped Bell’s phone and had been listening to his conversations.
"I took pride in my work," said Bell, who lives in Virginia Beach. "I was a criminology major, a police officer, an insurance investigator. Johnny Walker was not an investigator. He was a liar and a thief…. I’ve met murderers, rapists, child molesters. If I had to rank him, Johnny Walker is right up there with them."
A 1985 People magazine article described Walker as a “pudgy man who wore polyester suits, a tousled brown hair piece, and cheap wire-rimmed glasses” who lived in a romanticized James Bond world of covert operations. He was known for lavishing money on boats, jewelry and girlfriends, even while married.
Walker, in his 2008 memoir, “My Life as a Spy,” insisted that money was not his sole motivation for selling out his country.
Instead, he said, he operated from a “Don Quixote-like” attitude and wanted to end the Cold War by sharing America’s plans with the Soviet Union. In doing so, he said, the Soviets would see that the United States had no intention of going to war.
Michael Walker was released from prison in 2000 after 15 years and moved to Cape Cod, Mass., where he goes by his middle name of Lance. Barbara Walker died in 2009. Arthur Walker, who was given three life sentences plus 40 years for his involvement in the spy ring, died in prison July 5.
The lone surviving member of the spy ring, Jerry Whitworth, continues to serve a 365-year prison sentence.
ONA PAEDOPHILE ACTIVITY CENTRED ON CHILDRENS HOMES
The Order of Nine Angles ran an extensive paedophile ring centered on several homes for orphans or children in care around the UK, these children they would offer to wealthy and powerful clients at hotels.
We are beginning to piece together the intricate web of ONA paedophile activities in the UK during the 1970-2002 period thanks to the disintegration of their UK based internal circle, the death of prominent patrons, and the unraveling of suppressed historical child abuse that has already seen some of their clients jailed.
Recently information has arisen such as a list that reads like a whos who of some of the early members of the ONA inner circle and some of their patrons who ran and used a hotel called Elm Guest House to sexually abuse and murder children. One of the people on this list which includes politicians, rock stars and members of the British intelligence services is Colin Jordan, who instructed David Myatt to found the ONA as a pseudo-religious extreme right wing group to act as a honey pot to blackmail and bribe members of the British Establishment to advance far right political agendas.
The Order of Nine Angles also had connections with the Kray Twins, and celebrated their founding by murdering several children including a boy called Bernard Oliver.
For legal reasons we are unable to divulge at this time, a prominent member of the past and present ONA is likely to be arrested following on from the recent publicity surrounding the search of the home of the British singer Cliff Richard by the police in relation to historical allegations of sexual abuse of a child.
The Tempel ov Blood exists as a Nexion to the Dark Gods, as well as a guidance and filtration system for aspiring Noctulians. Known widely as an esoteric society that employs the most forbidden practices, it remains a secret society.
Now, in celebration of its first decade, the Tempel releases certain of its teachings to the public. This authorized volume contains secret practices which the Tempel ov Blood wishes to be studied and used, in hopes of reaching those few adepts who are willing to go beyond all limits - in search of a truly demonic awakening.
“The manuscripts contained in this volume present the bulk of writings from the TOB since its founding in 2003 until the present, thus, this book represents an entire decade of the compiled writings of the TOB presented on this, the ten-year anniversary of the organization. Unlike other attempts at presenting a compilation of TOB material in various bootleg and often haphazard deliveries outside of the auspices of the organization, this book for the first time ever presents a definitively authorized volume, completely revised and edited under professional auspices and manifest to the public with the full concurrence of the TOB itself.” - from the Introduction to Liber 333, “Secret History of the TOB” by R. Merrick, August 28th, 2013
Genuine initiatory crises are absolutely necessary for the creation of the Noctulian and the entrance into the undead state. The silence of dwelling in the eye of the storm, a symbolic representation of the undead state that is Noctulian existence, can only be attained by traversing the path of harsh, brutal ordeals that are the hallmark of our alchemical change process. Like when approaching the eye of a hurricane, the winds of ordeal and forced transfiguration will become harsher and more intense as one approaches the eye. It is only through real, genuine initiatory crises that one can reach the Noctulian state. The initiatory crises that are prerequisite must include real tragedy, real horror and real testing. This is not simply promethean overcoming, as the Noctulian is not simply an aphorism for the Satanic Adept.
The current of the Tempel ov Blood is very specific and involves treading a sideward path towards a paradigm of existence that is alien and inimical to the cosmic life force.
Transformation necessarily must be perverse and filled with elements of Terror due to the fact that the entity that emerges after breakthrough is an abomination in quintessence, rather than being the ‘next rung on the evolutionary ladder’ per se. Specific methods of self-engineering must be employed to produce specific entities.
For many, the harshness and the absurd nature of pursuing the alchemical change process according to the Noctulian standards will be too much to bear. There are many groups and systems available for those who wish to follow a more humane approach and we do not dissuade those who are better suited for an alternative method to go their own way. However, if one wishes to aspire towards the Noctulian state, if one wishes to enter into the TOB Blood Pool, then discipline and fanatical commitment to our way must be adhered to. If you fail, you will face the inevitable torture that comes with associating with the blood currents of the TOB and embracing the Abyss – if you succeed you will also face the inevitable torture that comes with associating with the blood currents of the TOB and embracing the Abyss. One may decide to no longer embrace the denizens of the Abyss, however, the denizens of the Abyss, once contacted, will persistently be interested in embracing you. - excerpt from World Opfer, Tempel ov Blood, 2006
"The Anglian Satanic Church was run by Father Raoul Belphlegor (yes, that is how he spelled it), real name Thomas Victor Norris, and Mother Lilith, real name Magdalene Graham. It claimed vast resources, numbers and magickal powers which would be bestowed on members in return for money and/or (in the case of young female members) sex. Norris had earlier acquired a liking for brothel-keeping, involving his wife and daughters, aged eleven and thirteen. On his release from a six-year sentence resulting from this, he restored his fortunes with the aid of a rather naive eighteen-year-old (she was not concerned with his occult activities and has since now made a new life for herself, so her name will not be mentioned)".
"Norris’ Occult involvement brought him into contact with Magdalene Graham, who was editing an Occult magazine on broadly LHP lines. Norris persuaded her to take over production of his magazines, both Occult and political (fascist), including the occasional news-sheet of his Odinist Anglo-Saxonic Church (another paper organization).
Despite holding similar political views, Ms. Graham was, at first, reluctant to be associated with the disreputable Norris, but was in the vulnerable position of having just been diagnosed as suffering from a disabling illness and was desperately seeking a cure. That particular illness is subject to recession”.
"Ms. Graham experienced an improvement (presumably psychologically induced), which, for a time convinced her. She eventually became disillusioned and tried to leave. Impeded by her physical disability, she sought help from a Satanist who was not a fascist (possibly the only representative of that rare breed in Britain at the time) and he eventually re-started the magazine Dark Lily as the organ of non-political Satanism in Britain.
Ms Graham remains typist, sometimes designated editor, although it is doubtful whether she has executive powers It appears that she is now convinced that Occultism cannot be associated with politics. Certainly Dark Lily, despite its history, has, since coming under new management, shown no sign of political allegiances and has, in fact, warned that to divide one’s energies between politics and Occultism means that one will succeed at neither”.
"The magazine Dark Lily first appeared in duplicated news-sheet format in 1977, allegedly the organ of the Anglian Satanic Church - not to be confused (though it often was) with the Anglo-Saxonic Church, which was Odinist”.
Magda Graham from the Society of Dark Lily is a disabled old gal nowadays, suffering from multiple sclerosis. For many years she had an interesting crossover into extreme underground S&M groups.
The Society of the Dark Lily”, is run by Magda Graham from a farm in Scotland where she lives. It is the headquarters of the organization (and the scene of debauched, sadistic beating of naked young girls).
Notes & Sources:
JIMMY SAVILE AND THE FOUNDING OF THE ORDER OF NINE ANGLES
One of the reasons why the Order of Nine Angles came to our attention was their links to a British celebrity known in the media as Jimmy Savile, one of the most prolific pedophiles in British history.
The ONA was until the late 1990’s a British cult rooted principally in the north of England. Jimmy Savile was the founder member of the Temple of the Sun, formed in 1959 in Yorkshire, a pseudo-masonic group for wealthy and powerful individuals focused on pedophilia.
At this point we should mention in passing two other groups that would merge with the Temple of the Sun: Camlad and the Orthodox Temple of the Prince better known as The Noctulians. The Noctulians was a far right group with strong connections to the Irish terrorist group the UDA, a masonic group that recruited for and funded Irish terrorism, founded in 1972 under the leadership of an individual called Anton Long, a coded pseudonym used by the UDA for its UK-based leader. Camlad was a neopagan group existing since at least the 1930’s in Shropshire, involved in human sacrifice, and under the leadership of a Jewish woman who was in a sexual relationship with David Myatt, the eventual leader of the group.
In circumstances that are unclear Temple of the Sun, Camlad and The Noctulians came together in the person of David Myatt and support for Israel’s Yom Kippur War against the Arabs in October 1973. The ONA was founded in the spring of 1974 when all three groups merged as one, and David Myatt took on the name of Anton Long. The ONA’s matriarchal bias and human sacrifice was adopted from Camlad, its fascist and nexion structures from The Noctulians, its paedophilia and connections to the rich and powerful was thanks to Jimmy Saville and the Temple of the Sun.
Saville and Myatt established a secret but strong and mutually beneficial bond which placed the Order of Nine Angles at the heart of an extensive and complex system of British pedophile networks supplying children to rich and powerful paedophiles, including at least one member of the British royal family, incorporating a religious cult based on the sacrifice of children.