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In Search of Enemies - A CIA Story - John Stockwell

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Saigon to Washington (33]<br />

struck at the core <strong>of</strong> my wishful conviction that the <strong>CIA</strong> was the elite<br />

<strong>of</strong> the United States government, charged with the responsibility <strong>of</strong><br />

protecting our country in the secret wars <strong>of</strong> a hostile world. Ve~<br />

little about <strong>CIA</strong> activity in Vietnam was honorabl~. It gnawed at my<br />

c~e. I had managed other case <strong>of</strong>ficersa;d in the end I had<br />

fled like everyone else.<br />

But conscientious <strong>of</strong>ficers, whom I respected, still insisted that<br />

these experiences were misleading, that there was nothing wrong<br />

with the <strong>CIA</strong> that a good housecleaning wouldn't cure. They spoke<br />

reverently <strong>of</strong> intelligence and national security and urged me to hang<br />

on to my career and use my increasing authority to help reform the<br />

agency.<br />

I wanted to believe them. All my life I had conformed: to a<br />

boarding school in Africa, to the Marine Corps, to the <strong>CIA</strong>. I had<br />

reveled in the challenge and sheer fun <strong>of</strong> clandestine operations, the<br />

excitement <strong>of</strong> flying <strong>of</strong>f on secret missions, the thrill <strong>of</strong> finding one<br />

more way to plant a bug in a Chinese embassy, and, eventually, the<br />

gratification <strong>of</strong> supervisory authority over other case <strong>of</strong>ficers.<br />

After Vietnam I had spent ten good weeks with my three teenagers,<br />

all <strong>of</strong> us starved for each other's companionship. We swam, built<br />

a canoe, camped at the beach, played tennis and chess and Monopoly<br />

and Ping-Pong, and built an addition to my parent's retirement home<br />

in the hills overlooking Lake Travis on the outskirts <strong>of</strong> Austin,<br />

Texas. <strong>In</strong> the evenings we talked, <strong>of</strong>ten until dawn, about their lives<br />

and mine. I hadn't known whether I wanted to go back into clandestine<br />

work. After a crunch like Vietnam .. . . Then the telephone had<br />

rung.<br />

On the flight from Austin to Washington, I had only to flip<br />

through the newsmagazines to be reminded again <strong>of</strong> the notoriety <strong>of</strong><br />

my employer. Two congressional committees were investigating <strong>CIA</strong><br />

activities. During the past week alone, .President Ford had apolQ:_<br />

g!zed to the Olsson family for the death <strong>of</strong> Dr. Olsson ii!_ <strong>CIA</strong> drug_ . ·<br />

~~ri°!~~~~~9 .m.Ll.~~~--~ar1Le.r;_ a former <strong>CIA</strong> deputy director <strong>of</strong> ~'>i-'e· , if( :.<br />

plans"'( the ·~~lande~tine s:rvi~s) ~ad testifiedJhat .h~ .h.~Q __ a_p_pr~~ed 7 '1-

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