THE COMMUNIST above-ground, as we have seen, constantly seeks to represent itself as a legitimate political organization working for the best interests of America. When large segments of the people are hoodwinked into believing this fraudulent claim, it becomes easier for the Party to carry on its revolutionary propaganda through mass agitation, infiltration, and fronts. Without some degree of public acceptance, the Party is doomed to an isolated impotence.
Communist tactics require that above-ground activities be pushed as far as possible. However, when the Party begins to abuse its constitutional privileges and the government takes steps to protect itself from outright treason and subversion, more and more Party activities are shifted underground, that is, to the illegal apparatus. As Lenin taught, the Party must always have two levels, above-ground and underground. Both must exist at the same time. One without the other is incomplete.
In times of “non-prosecution”—that is, when “hostile” governments are not attacking—the Party, like a submarine, will surface, carrying on the bulk of its work above ground. But a portion (the underground) will always stay submerged, concealing the Party’s illegal activities, such as aid to Soviet espionage; endeavoring to place concealed members in sensitive positions in government, education, and industry; maintaining clandestine communication networks.
In event of an emergency, this undercarriage quickly expands, providing the Party with well-prepared and extensive undercover operations. Within days, hundreds of above-ground comrades can be absorbed. The Party submerges, the aboveground shrinks.
The Party will submerge only as long and as deep as absolutely necessary, always preferring surface operations (with a supporting underground). That’s why it desperately fights all legislation curtailing its activities. Only to prevent annihilation will it go completely underground. This action reduces contact with the masses, wastes energy on nonproductive security measures, and decreases effectiveness. Except for outright liquidation, it is practically impossible to drive the Party completely underground or completely above ground.
As we saw in Chapters 4 and 5, the Party experienced two periods of intensified underground activities: (1) shortly after its founding, and (2) in the mid-1951 to mid-1955 period. Both were caused primarily by prosecutive action of state and federal governments.
To understand the underground we must realize that it is a maze of undercover couriers, escape routes, hide-outs, and clandestine meetings. It’s not the place for the beginner, the half-indoctrinated, or the doubtful. Only the most loyal members are selected. These men and women are carrying on the Party’s deceitful work away from the watchful eye (so they hope) of the FBI and other governmental agencies.
It was early in the morning. The taxi had been summoned to a number on James Street. The driver looked. On the corner stood an attractive woman, dressed in a polka-dotted blouse and navy blue skirt. From her shoulder dangled a brown purse.
“Take me to Elm and Cherry Streets,” she said, jumping into the cab.
When the taxi arrived at the destination, the woman changed her mind. “Take me to the Surplus Store,” she instructed. The driver complied, now almost doubling back to where he had started. The woman, however, still wasn’t satisfied. She asked to be taken to another location. There she alighted.
A few minutes later she hailed another cab and went straight to her destination, a railroad station on the east side of town, some fifteen miles away, even though she was then only a short distance from a terminal where she could have caught the same train.
This wasn’t the Case of the Woman Who Changed Her Mind, but the shift of a Party underground leader to a new hide-out. Why the strange gyrations? She was endeavoring to make certain she wasn’t being followed.
In a northern state a scene similar to the Girl in the Polka-dotted Blouse was being enacted. A woman with black curly hair, dressed in a smart gray herringbone suit and wearing a large-brimmed hat, boarded a southbound train. She carefully surveyed the passengers, then took a seat near the rear. She was carrying on her left arm a blue tweed suit and a hook-weave black coat. In her right hand she held a brown suitcase trimmed in light tan. It was a long ride, all afternoon and night. Upon arrival she sped to an address in an older section of town. A knock, the door opened, and she disappeared inside. The woman was a high-ranking Party leader reporting for a new underground assignment.
These two women, neatly dressed and looking like ordinary travelers, were but two of many hundreds involved in Party underground work from 1951 to 1955. Many were away from home for months, even years, living under assumed names in obscure rooms; moving under cover of darkness from one city to another; scurrying along streets late at night; eating irregular meals. Life in the underground for most is hard work, drudgery; not romance, adventure, and fun.
How are comrades chosen for underground work?
As we have seen, only the most trusted and dedicated of Party members are chosen. A study of the case histories of twenty-five top Party leaders active in the underground during 1951-55 disclosed that all had been in the communist movement for over twenty years. Their average age was somewhat over forty.
Party “loyalty” is determined by an elaborate “verification” system. A prospect is compelled to execute a questionnaire asking for detailed information about his family, former employment, education, Party history. One questionnaire, for example, requested a member to analyze the “political position” of relatives, and then asked, “Have you had any extra-marital relations since you’ve been married? If so, with whom and how often?” Many times, older comrades must vouch for the prospect.
To enter the underground usually means simply disappearing quickly, abruptly, without warning. Whispers float: “Where’s Gordon?” The answer: “He’s gone under” or merely the telltale sign, a clenched fist with the thumb pointed down.
It was a Monday morning. Everybody came to work except one, a woman who had been with the firm for many years. Nobody thought anything about it. Probably she was sick. But the next day, the next week, the next month, she didn’t return, although she had almost a hundred dollars in wages coming to her. At her apartment it was the same story. She had quickly moved out. Nobody knew where she had gone.
She had entered the communist underground.
These departures are carefully planned. Above-ground comrades will handle any pending personal matters, such as storing the member’s furniture, moving his family, caring for his car. Sometimes departures have been so rapid that hot meals have been left on the table.
Once underground, the member is made ready for assignment. This means, first of all, assuming a new identity; that is, being made into “another person.” As a general rule this involves the securing of a new name, date, and place of birth, even changing physical appearance. One functionary, for example, lost between thirty-five and forty pounds, giving him a gaunt appearance. Others were told to gain weight. Still another grew a mustache, donned glasses, and dyed his hair black. Identification marks, such as moles and warts, have been removed by surgery. One underground official boasted that he could walk down Main Street every day and even his wife could not recognize him!
In addition, the member must be supplied with lake identification papers, Social Security cards, drivers’ licenses, library cards, bank-deposit books. If he is stopped on the street he must be able to prove his “identity.’ Likewise, he should acquaint himself with his adopted place of birth, know something about its newspapers, streets, and stores. Does it have a baseball team? It’s usually best to pick a small town, for there is less chance of meeting somebody from there.
Frequently the member, in his new pose, will attempt, at least on a temporary basis, to secure employment. His underground work will be conducted in the evenings and on weekends. Some of the comrades are on the Party’s payroll, but most are not. One member became, in the words of her employer, an “efficient, affable, and able” secretary. Little did he dream that she was a communist on special underground assignment. In another instance a comrade, when hired for a job, said she was born in a Southern city, had attended a certain grade and high school, and had previously worked in another city. Later FBI investigation revealed that her story was a complete falsehood. Her job was only a front for secret communist work.
That’s why the underground is a nightmare of deceit, fear, and tension, where one has to tell falsehoods, fabricate a background, adopt a new name, and live in fear of being recognized by old friends or acquaintances.
Suppose the Girl in the Polka-dotted Blouse, in order to carry out an assignment, must pose as a widow or the estranged wife of a sea captain, or as the retired owner of a ladies’ dress shop? Think of the problems that would arise. What types of stories must be improvised? What kind of personal possessions must be purchased to keep up the cover?
The Party has thoroughly studied these problems. Let’s look at a secret study issued for the instruction of women underground comrades, like the Girl in the Polka-dotted Blouse. Here’s the advice:
1. Suppose you are posing as a widow (after having been married some twenty years) and you have now come to this city “to get away from it all and try to forget.”
Answer: Well, you shouldn’t come in (as to a rooming house) empty-handed, with only a handbag. You “must make some show of previous accumulation,” for example, have “a few personal ‘precious’ things,” such as “picture(s), little mementoes.” Where can you get them? “In any 5-10c store.”
2. Suppose you have an inquisitive landlady who has access to your apartment.
Answer: You might first say (to cover up the scarcity of your personal belongings) that, being so sad over becoming a widow, you “haven’t had the heart to unpack everything yet.” If you stay longer, you better buy a dustmop and some other items, “so that the story of having been a housewife for so many years will ring true.” And by all means have some luggage, preferably “beat-up” luggage. “The more luggage a woman moves in with the better is she accepted on the strength of her story.”
3. What if you’re underground in a small town? What about social life? People are sure to become suspicious if you stay seven nights a week at home. Moreover, unlike a man, it doesn’t look right to go a late movie alone.
Answer: Take a short trip out of town. This not only takes away suspicion but gives you something to talk about.
4. Then there is the problem of extra expense incurred by women.
Answer: A woman must have more luggage (she’s expected to have more clothing, etc.). Then she must use a taxi; she can’t carry her own suitcases. Also there is the problem of “personal upkeep.” Suppose you are a blonde and you come into town as a brunette. As the study points out, you have to keep that up, to a tune of about six dollars for each trip to the beauty parlor and two dollars extra for eyebrow dye.
Attention to detail must be exacting, even to the clothes worn on given occasions. Here’s a sample of a “How I was Dressed” diary kept by the Girl in the Polka-dotted Blouse:
—“wore dark grey dress, high heels, walked to the movie. . .”
—“wore low heels, two-piece blue suit, red tam. . .”
—“wore high heels, white blouse and blue hankie. Carried umbrella, looked like rain.”
In meeting non-communists she doesn’t want to be a strawberry blonde one day and the next week a natural brunette. If she is representing herself as a “poor widow,” she probably should wear the same dress every time, not come in a variety of outfits.
Assignments in the underground vary. A select few are engaged in highly secret disciplinary work. Security is most important. The telephone and mails are to be avoided. Never carry Party documents or names on your person. Disciplinary squads may stop members and search their purses. Woe if a compromising slip of paper is found bearing a name or telephone number.
Security precautions also affect the above-ground Party. No membership books (or cards) are issued; large clubs are broken up into small groups; records are destroyed. In a Western state a Party member was instructed to go to the post office for mail. He was to carry a brown paper sack and, upon leaving, proceed to the restroom of a nearby building. There another Party member, carrying an identical brown sack containing nothing but rubbish, would meet him. They would exchange sacks. In this way, so it was thought, the person with the mail could not be detected.
Then there are couriers who carry secret messages, often in code. In addition, they bring supplies and funds, meet Party leaders in hide-outs, contact mail drops. Couriers are of various types: (1) Party officials “just going through,” (2) Party members, such as salesmen and truck drivers, whose occupations allow them to travel without suspicion, (3) “professional” couriers who are trained to operate on a full-time basis.
Some comrades are given special assignments, such as stockpiling supplies (paper, ink, printing presses, funds). Others, working with above-ground comrades, secure, for future underground use, extra drivers’ licenses, birth certificates, car titles, etc. In addition, comrades operate hide-outs and escape routes or hide Party records. The underground from 1951 to 1955 actually harbored Party leaders who were criminal fugitives, having been convicted by United States courts.
Depending on local conditions, the organizational structure of the underground varies from area to area. As a general rule, because of security reasons, the leadership is rotated. The Party may feel that a member is going “stale.” If so, he may be shifted to another assignment or temporarily “furloughed upstairs” (meaning allowed to reappear in the “open”). A reserve leadership is always ready, in case the functioning leaders are arrested or otherwise incapacitated. This reserve may consist of other underground comrades or members still “upstairs.”
On the West Coast, for example, a clandestine communist group using the code name of “Mollie” had full responsibility for carrying through not only underground but also many above-ground functions. For security reasons underground contacts are always downward, not to a higher level. This means that top officials can contact those in lower levels, but the latter (who seldom even know the identity of their superiors) cannot contact above themselves. In event of an “enemy breakthrough,” only the identity of those on the level “broken through,” or lower level, will be revealed.
As we have mentioned, the closest cooperation must exist between the underground and above-ground apparatuses. The former cannot operate as a self-contained unit. It must constantly be serviced from above; otherwise it would die of suffocation. As we noticed in Chapter 17, communist fronts serve as periscopes to the “upper world” through which funds, supplies, and instructions are funneled. The deeper the Party goes underground, the greater the reliance on fronts.
The overriding consideration of the underground is security, not to be discovered by the FBI. Let’s see how this affects the Party’s operations.
Generally speaking the underground uses three types of hideouts: (1) temporary, an abode for a courier or Party member en route to another destination. This will probably be a room in the home of a “politically reliable” individual; (2) emergency, a home or apartment where a member, perhaps feeling he is being watched or suddenly becoming sick, can hide on an emergency basis. It is not to be used too frequently; (3) permanent, or “deep freeze,” where one or more comrades can remain for extended periods, maybe a month, or even a year, with all necessities being provided. Farms or cabins in remote areas make excellent “deep freezes.”
Here are some of the requirements demanded for a “safe” hide-out. They illustrate the Party’s attention to detail.
1. The owner must be absolutely loyal to the Party.
2. If an apartment, there must be no doorman or elevator operator. A walk-up apartment of three or four stories is preferable.
3. If a family home, the members must be thoroughly reliable. There should be no children, relatives, or maids.
4. The proprietor should not be too closely identified with the Party, either as a sympathizer or member.
5. The hide-out must be located where there are no curious or talkative neighbors.
6. The quarters must be sufficiently large to accommodate extra guests. Excessive cramping attracts attention.
7. The neighborhood should be well known to the owner and one in which some trusted friends reside. In this way any inquiries in the vicinity will immediately come to their attention.
Elaborate security must surround all underground contacts, whether between just two people or groups. Here are a few points the underground has to remember:
1. Don’t use the same meeting place too frequently. It might excite suspicion.
2. If a meeting is held at a home, a member of the family (who, of course, is thoroughly reliable) should be there to answer the door in case an outsider knocks. He can handle the situation and also serve as a lookout.
3. If large numbers are involved, times of arrival and departure should be staggered. Everybody should not arrive or depart at the same time.
4. If the comrades don’t know each other, a predetermined means of identification (a code word, piece of clothing, etc.) should be used.
5. Bring no more documents (books, papers, etc.) than absolutely necessary. Avoid note-taking. Make effective use of memory.
6. Upon departure, a “rear-guard” comrade should thoroughly check for any incriminating items. Have any papers been left on the floor? Is there a telephone number scratched on the wall? Has someone forgotten his coat, which might contain Party data?
In one instance six weeks allegedly were spent in bringing twenty people to a national underground conference.
If two comrades don’t know each other, advance arrangements must be made, usually by notes, to effect identification for a meeting. Here is one example. The note read:
“On Friday, April 6, 8 p.m. at NE corner, Oak and 9th Sts.—my courier will be standing with a Field and Stream magazine. Bill’s courier will approach her and ask, “Mrs. Polk, what time is it?” She will reply, “I’m sorry, my watch is stopped.”
Note the use of a magazine and code words for identification. Just in case the first contact didn’t work out, there were alternative instructions. The note continued:
“In case no one shows, she will be on the SW corner, Walnut and 10th, same magazine, Friday, 13, 8 p.m., same question and answer. She will wait around only ten minutes each time.”
Non-communists probably will find it difficult to understand the reckless abandon, personal risk, and sheer physical endurance displayed by communists to conceal their underground activities. Here are a few of the tactics employed by communists to determine if they are being followed:
Driving cars:
1. Driving alternately at high and low rates of speed.
2. Entering a heavily traveled intersection on a yellow light, hoping to lose any follower or cause an accident.
3. Turning corners at high rates of speed and stopping abruptly.
4. Suddenly leaving a car and walking hurriedly down a one-way street in the direction in which vehicle traffic is prohibited.
5. Entering a dark street in a residential area at night, making a sharp U-turn, cutting into a side alley, and extinguishing the car’s lights.
6. Driving to a rural area, taking a long walk in a field, then having another car meet them.
7. Waiting until the last minute, then making a sharp left turn in front of oncoming traffic.
8. Stopping at every filling station on the highway, walking around the car, always looking, then going on.
On foot:
1. Leaving subways, buses, and trains at the last minute, even holding the door open and jumping off.
2. Entering hotels, bus terminals, and department stores where there are many exits.
3. Stooping over in the aisles, then suddenly rising and looking around to see if anybody is searching for them.
4. Doubling back after rounding a corner.
5. Putting a coin in a pay telephone booth, dialing a number, then rushing to the adjoining booth to see if anybody is trying to listen.
6. Leaving a taxicab, but instructing the driver to go around the block and pick them up again.
7. Using store windows as mirrors to see behind them.
8. Walking slowly to a corner, then starting to run down an alleyway.
Always there is the fear of being followed. One Party couple registered at a motel, then the husband parked the car several miles away. He walked back and climbed through a side window. Maybe in this way he would conceal his night’s lodging!
A woman in a Midwestern city kept riding streetcars, buses, and taxis for thirty hours, stopping at no time except for meals. In communist language she was “dry-cleaning”; that is, making certain that she was not being followed.
The pressure becomes terrific. As long as a comrade feels he is “dirty” (that is, he suspects the “enemy,” meaning the FBI, is near), he must keep up his “dry-cleaning.” He can make his “meet” or enter a hide-out only when he’s certain he is “clean.”
Two dry-cleaning techniques are of special interest. One is the switch-point operation: The communist leader is driven to a certain location in a car (called a “drop car”). There he alights and enters another car (called a “pickup car”). Before entering the second car, however, he will walk across a parking lot, over a bridge, or through a department store—the object being to lose any pursuer. In the double switch, the pickup car drops the Party leader at a second switch, where he will be picked up by a third vehicle and then taken to his destination.
In the scramble, members (as on leaving meetings) enter automobiles. The drivers start the motors. Suddenly the doors of the cars will open and the comrades will get out, including the drivers. They scramble, meaning they quickly take scats in the other cars, whereupon all autos will move away in different directions. It’s hard for any “pursuer” to tell who went in which car.
The underground creates intense strains on family life. The undeviating demands of the Party (its interests must come first, regardless of personal consequences) leave deep scars.
For years many families are separated. On some occasions a midnight contact or a few days of furlough are permitted. Children grow up without seeing their fathers. In one instance a child was stricken with polio. His underground father did not leave his Party work to come to the child’s bedside. Mothers are often hard pressed to give answers to the question, “Where’s Daddy?” Some “explain” that Daddy is away on a trip, in another town, or dead. One little boy, whose father was gone, said: “I wish my father was in jail. Then I could at least see him.”
Normal family relationships are disrupted. The Party may promise financial assistance to the families of underground comrades, but many times the support is miserly or does not come at all. Heart-rending results ensue:
“During the past four years, Hank and I have been separated most of the time [one Party wife wrote]. There has never been any question about carrying out the decisions made, even when Hazel [small daughter] and I were set adrift by the Party with no financial provision and I had to go to my family so that my infant could have food and a place to live. When Hazel almost died from third degree burns, Hank didn’t even know about it since we had no way to communicate. I have been cut off from my family completely. The furniture, clothes and other things that we accumulated during our marriage we’ll probably never see again. We have moved, and moved, and moved yet again . . . dragging Hazel around from place to place, carrying out decisions made, guarding our security and that of others.”
The total effect was demoralizing. The wife continues:
“I can’t have an operation because it would mean six months in a cast and on my stomach—and there is no one to take care of Hazel . . . I get overtired physically, and the past four years of the kind of life we have led, with its many pressures of loneliness, financial scrounging, security measures and the sword of Damocles—that of being discovered—hanging over my head, finally took its toll.”
Despite this woman’s hardships the Party brought charges that her husband had been seeing her without permission. The utter fanaticism of Party discipline is shown by her reaction toward the charges: “If in spite of all this the Board feels that there has been a breach of discipline, then I am willing to abide by any decision made and accept whatever control is agreed upon.”
The underground, perhaps more than any other phase of Party activity, brings out the fanaticism of communist discipline. The member becomes so entranced with his mission that his hardships, sufferings, and obstacles become challenges to overcome, not reasons for discouragement. The very thought of working on this assignment, as one Party leader stated, should make him “ooh and ah.”
Some Party wives, however, did not always “ooh and ah,” but bitterly resented their husbands’ long absences from home and the disruption of family life. This presented the Party with a serious problem. These wives were potential weak links in communist security; they might jeopardize the husbands’ location by making unauthorized contacts, might give information to the “enemy” or impair morale by their uncongenial attitude. One Party instruction, for example, urged that wives should be spoken to and the importance of the Party’s policies explained. They must be indoctrinated more. For some Party wives it would certainly take a lot of explaining.
Children have been born in the communist underground, children who were not even given their true family names. In one instance a father and mother living as an underground couple (transformed couple) entered their child at a nearby school under the family alias. In another case a baby born to underground parents was registered with county authorities under the under-ground alias. Imagine the hypocrisy of such a family situation. A whole world of falsehoods must be invented to satisfy youthful curiosity. What about the parents’ childhoods? What about grandparents? Every family matter discussed must be carefully weighed: Will it give away any secrets?
The very character of the underground, with its emphasis on stealth and deceit, degrades human values. While many comrades struggle in poverty, living in squalid conditions at great personal sacrifice, a few enjoy the very best—comfortable hide-outs equipped with all conveniences. For them the underground is a “good life,” with others paying the bill. Moreover, Party discipline often places great power into the hands of some who, as petty dictators, do not hesitate to use it to inflict revenge and spite on their personal enemies. Many times the underground becomes a catacomb of back-stabbing and the settling of old scores.
Sexual immorality is also abetted. In one instance an organizer, leaving his wife and children, lived in Chicago with another woman. In an Eastern city, a woman whose husband was underground carried on an affair with another man. In still another instance a wife kept company with a man while her husband was forbidden by the Party’s underground leaders to see her.
This is the communist underground. It may appear as a “beehive of crazy confusion.” But it is not. All these shifts, midnight meetings, and escape routes find meaning in only one thing: the strengthening of the Party. The cardinal question always is, “What is best for the Party?”
As one Party leader stated, “Our best people are in this field . . .” They are not in it for adventure, romance, thrills or pleasure. . . .” They “are in it because that is where the Party wants them for political reasons. . . .” “. . . it is . . . probably one of the toughest and hardest assignments for anyone.”
That is why the Party, as we have seen, tries desperately to create the communist man, the individual obedient even when he is beyond the Party’s immediate control. “It’s not me who speaks,” one leader said, “but the Party.” Any allegiance outside the Party must be broken. The underground worker is the member who, even if cut off from leadership, will know what to do, will carry out the assignment, regardless of what it is. He is the man on whom all revolutionary plans depend.
Here is an example of how this fanaticism works:
Shortly before noon one day a top Party official drove east out of town. At the outskirts he doubled back, twice turning corners and coming to abrupt stops. Then, at speeds varying from forty to eighty miles an hour, he continued east for twenty-six miles. Turning around, he retraced his route at eighty miles an hour.
He was “dry-cleaning” in a most dangerous and reckless fashion. Back in town, for three hours he parked and reparked his car, darting up streets, entering and immediately leaving hotels.
At roughly 4:00 P.M. he left town again, this time driving south, again at various speeds. After five hours he cut east for fourteen miles, north for two, doubled back for twelve, south-east for forty-two, sometimes running without his lights; parking for a few minutes near buildings, then darting out at savage speed.
Late that night, after roughly twelve hours of furtive, reckless driving, often at highly dangerous speeds, he arrived at his destination and checked into a hotel. He had covered some 360 miles; the normal driving distance was 195.
This type of fanatical communist, if so instructed, would not hesitate to lead a riot, steal vital military secrets, sabotage defense industries, or perform illegal activities. Here is the true communist at work, without concern for personal risk or safety.