We all know about the books and films about James Bond, the charming spy in Her Majesty’s service, written by Ian Fleming. The exciting life of the fictional secret agent, sipping cocktails in prestigious hotels, driving fast cars and seducing a different beauty every night, still captures the interest of people all over the world. But few people probably know that Fleming was inspired to create his Bond by a real man who was an agent for the German secret service during World War II, but who was really working behind its back for Britain’s MI5. He had all the qualities that make a good spy – cold-bloodedness, resourcefulness and an uncommon self-confidence. Like James Bond, he was a great womaniser and a pleasure seeker. He spent the money he received from the Germans for his favours at an unashamedly fast pace. He lived by the principle ‘enjoy today, because tomorrow you may die’. He was born in 1912 in Vojvodina. His name was Popov, Dusko Popov.
Duško Popov came from a wealthy Serbian bourgeois family. His grandfather was a highly successful banker and industrialist who built a veritable empire during the Austro-Hungarian Empire and gave his children a life that ordinary Yugoslavs could only dream of. The family owned property all over Serbia, but Duško spent his childhood mainly in the family summer residence in Dubrovnik.
Growing up in a liberal and monotonous resort, where both the local and European elite gathered in the 1920s, marked him to such an extent that throughout his life he claimed not to be a Serb or a Yugoslav, but first and foremost a citizen of Dubrovnik. He spent his days strolling carefree in Stradun, playing water polo, sailing and running after girls. His family made sure he got the best education possible. He was first sent to Paris and later to England, but did not do well there. A year after he enrolled, he was expelled for snatching a stick from his teacher’s hand, which he was about to use to demonstrate the island’s teaching methods, and breaking it in half in front of his eyes.
In all the years he spent abroad, he became a true cosmopolitan and polyglot. He had friends and lovers all over Europe and spoke fluent French, Italian, German and English. He continued his studies in Belgrade, where he managed to graduate in law, despite the notoriously lively nightlife, which caused him to miss many lectures. Career and work did not appeal to him, so he decided to further consolidate his knowledge. In 1935, he enrolled at the prestigious University of Freiburg.
Close Encounters with Terror
The choice was not random. This medieval town in south-west Germany was famous for its excellent university, one of the oldest in the country, sunny weather and, if rumours are to be believed, beautiful women. Dusko fitted in well in his new surroundings and made many friends. It was then that he met Johann “Johnny” Jebsen, the son of a wealthy Hamburg shipowner who, like him, liked to live on the big foot. They became best friends. Apart from their love of fast cars and pretty girls, they shared a liberal world view.
Hitler had been in power for almost three years and the consequences of his policies were felt in everyday life. It began with the oppression of the Jews and all those who believed that Nazism was a dead end for Germany. Dusko and Johnny despised the Nazis and openly mocked them. Out of defiance, they frequented the only restaurant in town that did not post a sign on its door forbidding Jews and dogs.
Duško also regularly took part in debates organised by the university’s student club and engaged in heated verbal duels with Nazi sympathisers. His arrogance, which was probably more a reflection of his youth than of his divided political convictions, did not go unnoticed.
One summer morning, he was jolted out of bed by a loud banging on the door. Before he could get dressed, four Gestapo men were in the room, shouting and kicking as they pushed him into a car and drove him off to prison. For eight days they interrogated him day and night, accusing him of being a communist and a Jew-lover. The experience scarred him for life. “I learned first-hand what terror means. Friends I had made only yesterday pretended they didn’t know me. Professors who once praised me now claimed I was a worthless anarchist,” he later recalled.
The only one who didn’t forget him was Johnny, who realised in time that the devil had taken the joke. He contacted Dusko’s father, Milorad, who had no idea that his son was sitting in Gestapo solitary confinement, waiting to go to a concentration camp. Fortunately for Duško, his family knew influential people in the highest circles of the state. Milorad went as far as Milan Stojadinovic, then Prime Minister of Yugoslavia, who personally intervened with Hermann Goering and the young man was released shortly afterwards. Duško never forgot that Johnny saved his life.
After returning to Dubrovnik, he opened a law firm, but he didn’t work too hard at his job. He could only be found in the office between 9 and 11 a.m., and the rest of the time was devoted to more leisurely activities – parties in his villa and travels in Europe. He was young, rich and single.
In February 1940, as dark clouds were beginning to gather over Europe, he received a machine-gun message that turned his life upside down. “We must meet urgently. Come to Belgrade as soon as possible. Johnny.”
Tricycle
Duško hardly recognised his old friend. Johnny was a dull man, chain-smoking and rolling whisky after whisky. He told him that he had become a member of the Abwehr, the German military intelligence service. Dusko could not believe his ears. Johnny explained that it was the only way to avoid being conscripted into the army. His anti-Nazi views had not changed, circumstances had changed, he argued.
“Hitler fooled the Germans and with their help he could have conquered the whole world,” Johnny explained, adding that Germany was preparing an attack on France and soon the whole of Europe would be in flames. He then told him the real reason for their meeting – his superiors had asked him to find a reliable man in Yugoslavia to work for the Abwehr, and Johnny remembered him.
The moment has come for Dusko to return the favour. In these difficult times, it’s good to have influential friends in Berlin, Johnny persuaded him. Especially if your friends are willing to reward you handsomely for your favours. “If you want to defeat the enemy, join him and start demolishing him from within,” he added meaningfully. Dusko promised to tell him his decision soon and the strange meeting was over.
That night, he slept badly, with too many questions running through his head. The next day, he made a decision that was a mix of inspiration and sober reflection. The thought of a spy’s life, full of risks and exciting adventures, completely overwhelmed him. At the same time, the opportunity presented itself to him to do his bit in the fight against Nazism, which was spreading inexorably across Europe. So that same day, he secretly visited the British Embassy in Belgrade and told the head of the diplomatic service about the offer he had received from the Germans. He wanted to convince him that his only purpose was to help the Allies and that it would be worth taking advantage of the situation in which he found himself.
The British were suspicious at first, but soon realised that Dusko could indeed be a very useful figure in the complex espionage game that was going on behind the scenes of the Second World War. Finally, they warned him that he was getting into dangerous waters where the slightest mistake could cost him his head, but Popov just shrugged his shoulders. He became an agent of the British intelligence service MI5. Code name – Tricycle.
Ivan and Božidar
From then on, his every move was carefully coordinated with the British. For a start, he contacted Johnny and told him he was ready to accept his offer. He was received at the German embassy in Belgrade by a man called Muentzinger, although Dusko did not know whether this was his real name. This was a constant practice in the world of intelligence, where trust was the rarest and most valued currency.
Muentzinger could hardly hide his excitement when Dusko agreed to work for the Abwehr, because his access to English high society was the key to the Germans’ access to important information about the country’s economic and military situation. Dusko immediately said that he had decided to take the job solely for financial reasons and also demanded a salary that would allow him to live the life of ease to which he was accustomed. His second condition was that his action must not harm Yugoslavia. Muentzinger agreed, apologised for the “inconvenience” with the Gestapo and pressed a small capsule into his hand. It was invisible ink. Dusko Popov became a secret agent of the Abwehr. Code name – Ivan.
The Germans expected him to get as much useful information as possible from his acquaintances. They gave him a large questionnaire which he had to learn by heart and find as many answers as possible. Who are the opponents of Churchill who would be willing to cooperate with Germany? What are their weaknesses? Alcohol, women, money? How does the German bombing of Britain affect the morale of the population? How many aeroplanes are produced by the Bristol factory? How many infantry divisions are stationed in Cornwall?
The answers to these questions that Dusko passed on to the Germans did not come from his sources in high British society, but were all made in the secret London offices of MI5.Dusko reported every meeting with his German employers in detail to the British. Every word, every name and every address he gave to the Abwehr had been carefully doctored beforehand. The information had to give away just enough for the Germans to believe it, while at the same time not giving away anything that might actually be useful to the enemy. It was a mixture of facts, half-truths and outright lies. This peculiar balancing act was a deadly serious business. If the Germans had suspected for a moment that Dusko was serving them manipulated information, he would have ended up with a bullet in his head. A dangerous double game of deception and hide-and-seek had begun.
He quickly learned the dark side of the spy’s life. One day, Johnny came to his Belgrade apartment in the middle of the night. With a pale face, he waved a piece of paper in front of his nose, listing all the addresses Duško had visited recently. Among them was the British Embassy, which was a sign of alarm. Muentzinger followed him and entrusted the task to his long-time chauffeur Bozidar.
Fortunately, Johnny intercepted his report and alerted his friend in time, probably saving his life a second time. The driver was found dead two days later. Behind the facade of Dusko’s Balkan casualness were the insensitivity and ruthlessness that are indispensable qualities of any good secret agent.
Birth of a spy
As long as he was in Belgrade, the Germans had little use for him, so they wanted to get him to London as soon as possible. However, entry to the UK in June 1940 was only possible via Sweden or Portugal, so Dusek’s first stop was Lisbon. The Portuguese capital was teeming with spies, political defectors and speculators of all kinds. Dusko rented a room in the most expensive hotel in the city and contacted a local Abwehr agent who was officially employed by the German embassy.
The smooth and tall man who introduced himself as Ludovico von Karsthoff was not exactly a fervent Nazi. He was able to enjoy the many privileges of diplomatic service in neutral Lisbon – lavish dinners, unlimited supplies of port and a spacious residence in the most beautiful part of the city. Dusko was already a regular guest on his terrace because of his official duties, and von Karsthoff soon succumbed to the Dubrovnik charmer. Their relationship eventually turned almost into a friendship. Even secret agents are human, after all.
At the German embassy, von Karsthoff taught him the basics of the spy trade. Among other things, Dusko learned how to use invisible ink, how to identify an enemy spy and how to cover his tracks. The training lasted several days and nights, during which time von Karsthoff was impressed by Dusko’s intelligence and ability to learn quickly. He was convinced that he would one day make an excellent secret agent. He was right, Dusko did indeed become a top double agent, pulling the Germans by the nose for more than four years.
During his stopover in Lisbon, the first of many, Duško got involved in a seemingly sweet and innocent adventure that could have ended tragically for him. In the hotel bar, where he spent his nights with a glass of whisky in his hand, he noticed an attractive, lonely young woman. He thought himself an unbeatable heartbreaker and was convinced that she was flirting with him, but they never spoke a word.
Disappointed, he went to bed, but there was a surprise waiting for him in his room. The same young woman was lying on his bed in her underwear. After the war, he explained that he knew immediately that it was a trap. The young woman was strangely interested in his work and did not care about his masculine charms. While they drank whisky in their underpants and exchanged lustful glances, Dusko explained to her that he had only come to Lisbon because he was looking for stolen impressionist paintings for a client. Under different circumstances, such a reply would probably have elicited genuine interest and further questions, but after a few hours of date night, the young woman went to her room.
Dusek was not deceived by the feeling. The very next day, von Karsthoff casually told him at a meeting that he shouldn’t waste time looking for impressionist paintings. Dusko passed the test and convinced the Germans that he was trustworthy.
A gambler by nature, he liked to go to the Palacio, the biggest casino in the Portuguese capital. One night, his attention was drawn to a fat Lithuanian man sitting at a table playing baccarat. He waved a thick wad of banknotes in the air and intimidated the other players into leaving the table one by one. His bets were simply too high. He was loud and obnoxious, so Dusko decided to teach him about Quattropiri culture.
He sat down opposite him and shook out a large pile of banknotes from his suitcase. The confused Lithuanian, who thought he was the richest man in Lisbon, didn’t have enough money to even the bet. He remained speechless while Dusko put his money away and walked off triumphantly. Even though he had not made a penny, because the game was not over, he had made his point. Among the many casino guests watching this game of nerves was Ian Fleming, who immortalised the scene in the first James Bond book Casino Royale.
From Lisbon to London and back
After a few weeks of living the good life in Lisbon, it’s time to go to the enemy’s nest and prove her mettle. When he flew into London at the end of 1940, he witnessed the devastation caused by the relentless attacks of the German air force. “The moral qualms I had about becoming a spy disappeared the moment I arrived in London. I experienced first-hand the consequences of German aggression and saw the courage with which the British stood up to it,” he explained after the war.
Von Karsthoff had high hopes for his London mission, and little did he know that his best agent would immediately get in his car after landing and drive to the prestigious Savoy Hotel, where the head of British counter-intelligence, Thomas “Tar” Robertson, was waiting for him. Dusko was subjected to a thorough interrogation that lasted four days. During this time, he had to repeat the story of how he came into contact with the Germans countless times and explain why he had decided to defect to the other side. Robertson looked for holes in his story, but found none. A man who tells the truth inspires confidence, and Dusko also passed the British test of loyalty. The fact that he explicitly refused any payment for his services must have contributed to this.
“Despite his dislike of routine work, he has a remarkable ability to concentrate. He is brave, discreet and incredibly charming. He is used to living on a large scale and does not skimp on money. You could say he is an adventurer. He likes beautiful women and, given that he is always in their company, it is fair to say that he is more attractive than his physical appearance alone would suggest,” the file under the codename Tricycle read.
Described by British intelligence as “a Mongolian-Slavic type of man with slightly prominent cheekbones”, Dusko also found his way well among the rubble of inter-war London. He regularly received large sums of money from Lisbon and continued to live lavishly. He was a sought-after guest at all sorts of parties and balls in the English capital. He convinced the Germans that this was the only way to keep in touch with the British elite, who were bathing in champagne while the country was drowning in deprivation.
In reality, he knew no British duke or admiral, but he made the Germans believe him anyway. He and his colleagues at MI5 prepared doctored reports and dutifully sent them to Lisbon. Von Karsthoff believed he was getting first-class information from London, while the British learned how the Abwehr worked and what Hitler was up to. Everyone was happy. Even Dusko did not complain about his double life on the Island.
But every time he returned to Lisbon, he was understandably worried. He was aware that he would be questioned at length and that he had to watch every word. Fortunately, he had a first-class gift for acting. When he was sitting in von Karsthoff’s office and had to report in minute detail on all the people he had met and all the places he had been, he always excelled. When von Karsthoff pulled a bottle of good wine out of the cupboard after the interrogation, it was a sign that he still trusted him.
Operation Midas
He lived between Lisbon and London and was the servant of two masters. He liked the feeling of being on the right side of history. But he liked even more being able to travel around Europe, a rare privilege during the war, and to live as he had always lived – in luxury, surrounded by beautiful women. Nazi Germany, as always, footed the bill.
What’s more, he has come up with a trick to further scam his employers. More than invisible ink or a revolver, every secret agent needs money to sustain his secret life and buy information from those who are willing to sell it. Dusko noticed that the Abwehr had problems getting money to its agents in England, because travel was restricted and financial transactions were carefully controlled. He presented Von Karsthoff with a simple solution that would eliminate such problems. He assured them that he could deliver any amount of money to London through his acquaintances. All the Abwehr had to do was to transfer the money to an account in a New York bank.
Von Karsthoff had many reservations, but after much persuasion, he relented. Much to his surprise, everything went smoothly, as one after another, German agents in the UK reported that they had received the money. Von Karsthoff was once again convinced that he had a top agent in his ranks.
Dusek’s “scheme” was nothing but a big hoax. Von Karsthoff did not know that MI5 had intercepted almost all the German agents on the Island and faced them with a choice – death or defection to the British side. The once German, now double British agents were sending reports to Lisbon and Berlin about the money they had received, but in reality it was flowing into MI5’s slush fund. Again, all parties involved were happy. Especially Dusko, who agreed with von Karsthoff a 10% commission on each transaction.
The clever minds at MI5 dubbed Dusek’s trick “Operation Midas”, after the greedy king from Greek mythology who turned everything he touched into gold. Not even war could keep the British humour alive.
A child in a sweet shop
Meanwhile, Dusek had a new task ahead of him. In 1941, the Abwehr shifted its activities to the other side of the Atlantic. The network of German secret agents in the US was on the verge of collapse, which caused discontent in Berlin. One of Germany’s best spies was on the move again. This time, alongside invisible ink, he got his hands on the latest invention to come out of the Abwehr’s secret laboratories – the micro-point.
German engineers have managed to shrink a large amount of text down to the size of a dot in a sentence using powerful lenses. This made it possible to hide huge amounts of information in ordinary letters without arousing suspicion. In addition to the micro-point, von Karsthoff also gave Dusek a questionnaire, which attracted his attention. The questions concerned Hawaii and Pearl Harbor. Dusko had a bad feeling, so he turned to one of the few people he could trust implicitly.
On a secluded beach near Lisbon, he met Johnny and told him about his new mission. It was a strange meeting. They both pretended to be loyal to the Abwehr and, although no one said it out loud, it was clear that they were really on the side of the Allies. It was like that from the beginning, the two old friends understood each other without words. Johnny confirmed Dusko’s hunch – Japan was preparing an attack on the USA. The cards are about to be reshuffled and the war, which has so far raged mainly in Europe, is about to engulf the whole world. From then on, Dusko tried to convince MI5 that Johnny would make an excellent double agent, but no one agreed.
When Trickel arrived in the US in August 1941, London was still bleeding from German attacks and flags with peg crosses were flying all over Paris. New York was then the most glamorous city in the world, and Duško intended to enjoy all its charms. For an astronomical price, he rented an apartment in a high-rise on Park Avenue, in the heart of Manhattan. He even hired an interior designer and a butler who was always at his service. He bought himself a state-of-the-art Buick and drove carefree around the city with his lover, the French actress Simone Simon. In the Big Apple, he felt like a kid in a candy shop.
Von Karsthoff shook his head when he received bills from across the channel, because he had a lot of trouble convincing his superiors in Berlin that more and more money should be spent on the luxurious life of the best agent in the service of the Third Reich.
Two worlds collide
In London, Dusek was told to report immediately to the FBI office upon arrival in New York. The CIA, today known as the world’s best intelligence agency, was created in 1947, and it was the FBI that hunted foreign spies on American soil during the war. Dusko was in a good mood, bringing with him very important and sensitive information. But no one in London told him that relations between MI5 and the FBI at that time were frosty at best.
So when Dusko told American agents about the micro-point and the imminent threat of a Japanese attack, he was disappointed. His warnings fell on deaf ears and even appeals from London failed to persuade the Americans to listen. The cool relationship between the two friendly agencies eventually turned into open conflict. The FBI began eavesdropping on Dusek and monitoring his every move. He had not sent any information to Lisbon for a long time, because the Americans would not allow him to communicate with the enemy on his own.
Von Karsthoff was getting restless. Dusek was left with only one option. With London’s help, he turned to Edgar Hoover, the FBI Director and one of the most powerful men in the US. As it turned out, he was the one who had been throwing stones at his feet all along.
Two very different personalities stood opposite each other in an office in Washington. Hoover, a closeted homosexual, considered himself the chief guardian of American morality and saw in Dusek only an easy-living adventurer who made a mockery of the USA with his obscene lifestyle. Dusko, on the other hand, thought of Hoover as a rugged provincial policeman who lacked the tact to understand how the sophisticated world of deceit and double-dealing worked.
The meeting in Washington was a complete failure. Hoover angrily pounded his fist on the table, accused Dusek of being all about the money, and told him not to teach him how to do his job. Dusko lit a cigarette and calmly replied, “I don’t think anyone can teach you anything.”
Although he did not return to Europe until several months later, his American mission was over that day. On 7 December 1941, Japan launched an air strike on Pearl Harbor. Dusko was convinced that his warnings had got through, after all, he had personally spoken to the FBI Director about it. When he learned that more than two thousand people had died in the attack and that the US military had not been prepared for it, he was furious. For the rest of his life, he wondered why no one had listened to him, but he never got an answer.
First violin
In October 1942, he returned to Lisbon, where he was interrogated by the unusually reticent von Karsthoff. Although he had prepared thoroughly for the hearing, he was as thorny as ever. The head of the Portuguese branch of the Abwehr told him that Berlin was very unhappy with his work in the US. He had spent a lot of money, but the proceeds were negligible. “In Berlin, they began to wonder if you might have crossed over to the other side,” von Karsthoff added with a slight smile on his face.
The wily spy was not confused by these words. On the contrary, he used them to counter-attack. He admitted that he had done his job below expectations, but through no fault of his own. It was the incompetent Berlin bureaucrats who did not pay him enough money. How can he hang around in New York’s high circles when he barely has enough money to buy something to eat? How can he buy confidential information from American businessmen when he has to borrow money from acquaintances? He started threatening to leave the Abwehr and return to more serious business.
But he saved the best for last. He claimed that the Germans owed him $8,500, which today would amount to just over €100,000. Dusek’s Balkan arrogance and sense of manipulation were astonishing. His bluff caught fire and Ivan was back in the game.
In London, they jumped for joy when they learned that Dusko still had the confidence of the Germans. A spy’s life is a tightrope walk, so MI5 was always prepared for the worst. But Tricikel proved himself once again. Von Karsthoff once again washed his hands of the lies, half-truths and irrelevant facts that Dusko sent him in Lisbon.
This time, MI5 has been particularly careful in compiling the reports. For at the end of 1943, Operation Fortitude, one of the biggest deceptions of the Second World War, was launched to convince Germany that the Allies would land in Norway and the Pas-de-Calais, where the English Channel is narrowest, rather than in Normandy, a few hundred kilometres further south.
The operation was an extraordinary military-intelligence feat. Various military units were deployed in Scotland and on the coasts of southern England, which looked intimidating from the air but were in reality a cunning deception. The imaginary army that was to land in the Pas-de-Calais and Norway consisted of hundreds of wooden tanks, cardboard planes and canvas lorries. Thus, in the bloodiest conflict on European soil, a real paper army played its part.
The key was for the Germans to take the bait put in front of them by the Allies. The second phase of Operation Fortitude was in the hands of secret agents who had to convince the Germans that there would be no Normandy landings. The success of this impressive deception depended on the effectiveness of its execution. MI5 used a musical analogy – an orchestra only sounds good when all the instruments are in tune. In this case, the orchestra was a network of British double agents who fed the Germans false information. Dusko Popov was first violin.
Ivan found himself in a difficult situation, as in 1943, when the scales of the war began to tip in favour of the Allies, the Abwehr was rocked by infighting and purges. The good old von Karsthoff, who had forged an unusual bond of friendship with Dusko, was deposed and transferred to Austria, where he was executed by the Soviets at the end of the war. Dusko had to prove his trustworthiness once again. Accompanied by MI5, he visited all the paper army positions and reported in detail to Lisbon. As always, he was extremely persuasive, and the chaos in the Abwehr played into his hands.
The desperate German informers took his every piece of information for dry gold. With each passing year, Duško became a better actor. The Allied Orchestra concert was magnificent – the Normandy landings had dealt Germany a severe blow. For his role in this extraordinary ensemble, Dusan Popov was awarded the Order of the British Empire. The ceremony, attended by all his MI5 comrades, took place in November 1947 at London’s prestigious Ritz Hotel. In secret, as befits a secret agent. In the hotel bar.
Epilog
“It would have been a great evening if my mind hadn’t kept drifting to Johnny,” he later recalled. Towards the end of the war, Dusko managed to persuade MI5 to take Johnny into their ranks, but he did them a disservice. All traces of him had disappeared. Dusko had a new task – he wanted to find his friend, no matter what the cost. He travelled through France and Germany, hoping to find some evidence that would lead him to Johnny. He visited his wife, his mistress and many of his friends, but to no avail.
In Paris, he found a man who claimed to have met Johnny at the Sachenhausen concentration camp. Dusko checked his story and was saddened to discover that Johnny had been executed, along with other camp inmates, by Germans retreating from the approaching Red Army. The death of his friend gave him no peace and he vowed to avenge it. The war was already over, but Duško did not give up.
After a long and torturous search, he tracked down Johnny’s executioner in Germany. Walter Salzer, a guard at Sachenhausen, was just returning home when Dusko met him on the staircase, revolver in hand, and motioned for him to follow him. They drove into the woods and Salzer knew it was time to pay for his sins. When he confessed to killing Johnny, something animalistic awoke in Dusko. He rushed at him and started beating him savagely. While the sobbing Salzer was still pleading for his life, Dusko had already put away his revolver and drove away.
Britain’s most audacious double agent lived in France after the war and never returned to Dubrovnik. With his cosmopolitanism and bourgeois origins, he would not have been welcome in communist Yugoslavia. He married for the first time in 1946, which caused no little surprise among his friends in MI5, and for the second time in 1962. Both times with 18-year-old girls. He had four sons.
His family did not know that he had once been a spy until a book by a British secret agent was published in 1972, despite the outcry of MI5, in which “Tricycle” was mentioned. For Dusek, this was the green light to tell his side of the story and step into the spotlight. He wrote a book of memoirs which immediately became a big bestseller. When journalists once asked him whether there really was such a thing as a James Bond super-spy, Duško just laughed and replied, “I don’t think James Bond would last 48 hours.”
