The British newspapers were aflutter last Tuesday when MI5 documents relating to the infamous Cambridge Five spy ring were declassified and released. The Cambridge Five were...
The Breezer -the joyride for a curious mind: A weekly newsletter from me, Steve Winduss, at the Batting the Breeze podcast. Spend a few minutes with me discovering historical snippets and fascinating facts related to the forthcoming week. Add to that updates relating to the podcast, a touch of humour and a dash of "lots more". - 19th January 2025.
Happy Sunday!
The British newspapers were aflutter last Tuesday when MI5 documents relating to the infamous Cambridge Five spy ring were declassified and released. The Cambridge Five were students at Cambridge University in the 1930s. Each harboured disillusionment with the British establishment, sensing that Soviet communism was the only way to defeat the wave of fascism sweeping across Europe, emanating primarily from Mussolini’s Italy and Nazi Germany.
For 20 years, the Cambridge Five infiltrated the highest levels of British Intelligence, passing vast amounts of classified information to the Soviets.
This week’s revelations included details of the group’s recruitment and espionage pursuits. But the press were most interested in the extraction of the confession from Kim Philby.
Kim Philby in 1955
Philby was the first of the Five recruited by Arnold Deutsch, a Soviet NKVD operative posing as a post-graduate researcher at the time (the NKVD was the predecessor to the KGB).
He had subsequently introduced Donald Maclean with Guy Burgess, Anthony Blunt and John Cairncross falling into line by 1938.
The headline-catching revelation was the transcript of Philby’s confession to MI6 officer and friend Nicholas Elliott, which occurred in Beirut 62 years ago last Saturday, 11 January 1963.
The great mystery surrounding the event wasn’t so much related to Philby’s confession; MI6 were confident they had their man. But why did they send Philby’s friend on the mission?
Did they believe he was best suited to extract the confession? Maybe Philby would not be suspicious about the arrival of a friend. Perhaps MI6 thought that Elliot would give his old pal a chance to escape to Moscow after confessing, thereby limiting the embarrassment to the British secret services?
Elliot and Philby met in the Christian Quarter of Beirut. Their conversation was recorded through a bugging device planted in the designated apartment. To an unwitting evesdropper, the meeting was nothing more than a casual chat between two old pals. But that was spy-speak. Think George Smiley meets The Spy Who Came In from the Cold.
In reality this was two spy heavyweights verbally slugging it out. MI6 needed a confession. Philby needed to avoid an execution.
After four days, Philby indeed confessed to his association with Soviet intelligence since 1934. However, in true espionage fashion, his confession turned out to be a weave of truth, lies and deception.
Elliott returned to London. Within a week, Philby had cut his losses and defected to Odessa 62 years ago on Thursday, 23 January 1963. Did Elliott help his old pal? Did he leave a window open for Philby to abscond? The mystery remains.
Philby lived in the USSR until his death in 1988. He was disappointed by his reception in Moscow, where he was treated with suspicion for much of his defection. He died lonely and disillusioned.
The grave of Kim Philby, Kuntsevo Cemetery, Moscow
Despite the underwhelming gratitude from the Soviets in life, Kim Philby was posthumously awarded the Order of Lenin for his services to the Soviet Union.
Somewhat ironically, Philby had died less than 18 months before the fall of the Berlin Wall and the collapse of the Soviet Union. The Cambridge Five remain one of British Intelligence’s most embarrassing breaches in history.
Dates with History
Today...
Hitler’s deployment of V-1 flying bombs towards the closing stages of World War II is well documented. His primary objective was to instil fear and chaos across the principal cities of England. The 'doodlebugs' were unmanned bombs designed to drop out of the skies over major population centres. Less known was a similar tactic deployed by the Germans in World War I. Today marks the 110th anniversary, 19 January 1915, of the first-ever air raid on England. Count Ferdinand von Zeppelin had been testing motorised airships since 1900. By 1915, his Zeppelins could achieve speeds of up to 85 miles per hour, potentially outrunning biplanes sent up to bring them down. At 20:30 on the evening of 19th January, two Zeppelins - each twice the length of a Boeing 747 - crossed the coastline in Norfolk and dropped a total of 30 incendiary bombs on Kings Lynn and Great Yarmouth. Four people were killed.
Men of the Norfolk Regiment with part of a German bomb which was dropped on Great Yarmouth, 1915.
The statistics were tame by World War II standards. The Germans dropped five thousand bombs on England from Zeppelins during the Great War, killing approximately 550 civilians. This compares with the 15,000 V-1 buzz bombs and V2 rockets sent over in 1944, responsible for 6-8,000 deaths. The Germans instilled fear but not chaos.
Out of curiosity… Enid Bottle talked about the terror of living in London and watching V-1 bombs drop out of the sky in the first-ever Batting the Breeze podcast episode, A Child’s Eye View of World War II.
Saturday... Alexander Graham Bell patented his “Improvement in Telegraphy” in 1876, essentially confirming the arrival of the first telephone. However, it wasn’t until 110 years ago next Saturday, 25 January 1915, that the first genuinely transcontinental call was made. Vacuum tubes had been developed to boost telegraph signals over longer distances. By installing these vacuum tubes at regular intervals, Bell’s call from New York City could be received by his assistant, Thomas Watson, in San Francisco at the end of 3,400 miles of telegraph wire.
Out of curiosity... Alexander Graham Bell’s transcontinental telephone call took place six days after that first Zeppelin air raid on England.
Alexander Graham Bell opens the first New York – Chicago telephone line, 1892
The record of the conversation translates a little strangely today... but it was designed to be memorable.
BELL: “Mr. Watson, come here. I want you.”
WATSON: “It will take me five days to get there now!”
Not quite “That’s one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind”, but… ah well.
Out of curiosity… Alexander Graham Bell had submitted his original patent application for “Apparatus for transmitting vocal or other sounds telegraphically” on Valentine’s Day in 1876. Elisha Gray, Bell’s adversary, submitted a patent application on the same day for “Transmitting Vocal Sounds Telegraphically”. Bell’s entry that day was 5th in line, Gray’s was 39th. Bell’s patent was granted. The debate about ethics and fraud relating to this coincidence continues to arouse interest today. Elisha Gray died 124 years ago this Tuesday, 21 January 1901.
Tomorrow...
Speaking of 'one giant leap…', tomorrow will be Buzz Aldrin’s 95th birthday, born 20 January 1930. Aldrin followed Neil Armstrong out of the lunar module Eagle 20 minutes after Armstrong had delivered his immortal line, having become the first man to step foot on the moon during the successful 1969 Apollo 11 mission. Only three people who have ever walked on the moon are alive today. Tomorrow will also be Aldrin’s 2nd wedding anniversary, having married his fourth wife, Dr Anca Faur, on 20 January 2023, his 93rd birthday. You can’t keep a good man down.
Out of curiosity… Buzz Aldrin was first selected as an astronaut in the same year that Kim Philby defected to the USSR.
By the Way
World War I broke out a little over ten years after the Wright Brothers had achieved a 12-second flight near Kitty Hawk, North Carolina in 1903. By the end of that day, Wilbur Wright had increased the flight time dramatically to 59 seconds, a distance of 852 feet. The proceeding ten years would see a similar exponential growth in aviation capability. War is often the driver of accelerated innovation. The growing tensions in Europe in the pre-war period had motivated the production of aircraft that could make a difference in combat. Today marks the 105th anniversary, 19 January 1920, of the official retirement of one of World War I’s most iconic - and effective - aircraft, the Sopwith Camel. The name Camel derived from the sloping front end of the fuselage, which resembled that of a camel’s hump.
Sopwith Camel, circa 1914-18
The biplane was the first British fighter to mount machine guns in front of the cockpit facing forward. The guns could fire in synchronisation with the plane’s propellors, a helpful feature to prevent self-obliteration. The Camel destroyed between 1,500 to 3,000 enemy aircraft during the war. It was responsible for landing the first shot that ultimately brought down the infamous Manfred von Richthofen, the Red Baron, in 1918.
Out of curiosity… The Boy’s Own iconic status of the biplane was boosted when W.E. Johns’ Biggles character flew a Sopwith Camel in his 1932 book The Camels are Coming.
The Sopwith Camel was an extraordinary aircraft of its time, but not quite as extraordinary as its creator, Thomas Sopwith, born 137 years ago yesterday, 18 January 1888. A the age of ten, during a holiday in Scotland, a gun lying on Sopwith’s lap discharged and killed his father. It was an incident that scarred him throughout his life. By 22 years old, Sopwith had taught himself to fly. Two years later he founded the Sopwith Aviation Company. The company provided Allied Forces with over 18,000 planes for the war effort. Despite this success, the Sopwith Aviation Company experienced financial difficulties after the war. Thomas Sopwith and his test pilot, Harry Hawker, bought the assets of the failed Sopwith Aviation Company and, in 1920, formed H.G. Hawker Engineering, later renamed Hawker Aircraft Limited. A further merger by the outbreak of World War II to Hawker Siddeley Aircraft enabled the production of the Hawker Hurricane fighter plane that fought alongside the Spitfire to victory in the 1940 Battle of Britain.
Out of curiosity... Hawker Aircraft was also responsible for introducing the Hawker Hunter in 1951. This was the plane flown by Sir Patrick Hine and the Black Arrows team in 1958 when they broke a world record by flying a 22-plane loop at Farnborough. Check out Twenty-two Black Arrows to hear Sir Patrick’s fascinating account of that remarkable achievement. You can also take a look at a 1-minute clip of the 22-plane loop.
Thomas Sopwith had no stop mechanism. Alongside aircraft development, he had been fascinated by motor cycles, cars and ballooning. In 1934 and 1937 he challenged for sailing’s prestigious America’s Cup. He remained a consultant to Hawker Siddeley until the age of 92. Thomas Sopwith’s first flight had been in a Howard Wright biplane, top speed 45 miles per hour. His final career contribution may well have been consulting on the Harrier Jump Jet, the outstanding jet figher that could take off and land vertically, top speed 735 miles per hour. Now that’s experience you just can’t buy! Thomas Sopwith passed away at the age of 101 in 1989. He is buried at a graveyard in Little Somborne, Hampshire.
LEFT: Thomas Sopwith flies a Howard Wright biplane, 1910: RIGHT: Harrier Jump Jet, 2008.
Question of the Week
George Orwell was one of the most influential English writers of the 20th century. He died 75 years ago this Tuesday, 21 January 1950. Orwell’s book Animal Farm brought him to worldwide attention in 1945. It’s a book I remember well from English Literature lessons at school: A group of farm animals revolt against the farmer, Mr. Jones, and rename Manor Farm Animal Farm. Two pigs, Napoleon and Snowball, lead the revolution but over time, they become more human-like, more controlling. The original slogan “All animals are created equal” becomes “All animals are created equal, but some animals are created more equal than others”.
George Orwell, 1943
Orwell referred to himself a Democratic Socialist, but he used Animal Farm to mimic the hypocrisy of the Soviet regime under Stalin, paving the way for his even greater success - Nineteen Eighty-Four - which followed in 1949. It reminds me of the quip about a 1950s Soviet Politburo member who was heard to say:
Those are my principles, and if you don’t agree with them, I’ve got some others.
What was George Orwell’s real name?
And Finally…
I was lucky enough to visit the Wimbledon Tennis Championships a number of times in my younger days, primarily in the late seventies and early eighties. It was the Bjorn Borg era; five straight Wimbledon men’s singles titles from 1976 to 1980. We loved Bjorn. He was cool, unflappable and brilliant. For five years, he was unbeatable. In 1979, I watched Borg beat the Indian Vijay Amritraj in the second round on the old Wimbledon Court 1. It was nail-biting. Amritraj took Borg to five sets. Vijay nearly knocked out my superhero.
Bjorn Borg 1979
Two years earlier, we had been walking around the outside courts at Wimbledon and were swatted aside by a precocious youth with headband restraining a rebellious mass of curly hair. It turned out to be John McEnroe in his first-ever Wimbledon appearance. He was striding back to the changing rooms having won his first-round match against Ben Testerman. Remarkably, McEnroe made it all the way to the semi-finals that year, eventually losing out Jimmy Connors in four sets, having only entered the tournament as a qualifier. McEnroe had created a storm from the outset of his career with his loutish behaviour. He seemed to get away with it because of his grace and ability on the court. He was masterful, a real craftsman. These were the days when players worked the whole of the court, not like today’s power rallies played mainly from behind the service line.
At Wimbledon 1981, McEnroe introduced us to the immortal line, “You cannot be serious”, a strapline which has remained synonymous with his playing career. His autobiography is actually entitled, You cannot be serious and he admits that he is even gets paid extra to shout the same at publicity events. 1981 was also the year when McEnroe toppled Borg to win his first of three Wimbledon titles. I was devastated. There is something tragic about watching a master being de-throned.
The 1981 version of John McEnroe
John McEnroe would win seven Grand Slam titles during his stellar career, but his demons stayed with him to the end. Thirty-five years ago this Tuesday, 21 January 1990, McEnroe became the first player in the professional era (i.e. since 1968) to be disqualified from a Grand Slam tournament. It was fourth round day at the Australian Open at Flinders Park (now Melbourne Park). By the fourth set of McEnroe’s match against the Swedish player Mikael Pernfors, he had clocked up three code violations: One for abusing a linesman, one for smashing his racket and finally for abusing the umpire. He was out. Amusingly, McEnroe stated in his press conference that he was unaware that the rules had changed from needing four violations for a disqualification to just three. Nothing like a little contrition….. John McEnroe has remained one of the UK’s best-loved tennis commentators since about 2007.
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Steve
HOST & CHIEF STORY HUNTER
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Question of the week... Answer
George Orwell’s real name was Eric Arthur Blair. Orwell was fiercely English. He wrote under the pseudonym George Orwell partly because he wanted a more English-sounding name. George represented the patron saint of England, St. George. Blair chose the surname Orwell after the River Orwell in Suffolk, a favourite leisure spot. Some say he chose a surname beginning with ‘O’ as it helped him appear on the middle shelves of bookshops.
Attributions - Kim Philby in 1955: [1], Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons - The grave of Kim Philby, Kuntsevo Cemetery, Moscow: Amadalvarez, CC BY-SA 4.0 - Men of the Norfolk Regiment with part of a German bomb which was dropped on Great Yarmouth, 1915: See page for author, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons - Alexander Graham Bell opens the first New York – Chicago telephone line, 1892: National Photo Company Collection, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons - Sopwith Camel, circa 1914-18: See page for author, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons - LEFT: Thomas Sopwith flies a Howard Wright biplane, c1914: See page for author, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons. RIGHT: Harrier Jump Jet, 2008: Harrier Jump Jet, 2008: Arpingstone, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons - George Orwell, 1943: Branch of the National Union of Journalists (BNUJ)., Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons - Bjorn Borg 1979: Rob Croes / Anefo, CC0, via Wikimedia Commons - The 1981 version of John McEnroe: El Gráfico, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
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