Exciting news!

Lynn Hodgson, as author of, 'Inside Camp-X', was invited to go inside the CIA headquarters in Virginia to attend the 60th anniversary of the OSS. The only Canadian invited!

He attended the opening ceremonies on June 7th. Guest speaker was the Director of the CIA, George Tenet.

The next day, he was a special guest at the ultra secret, CIA Museum which is not open to the public.

Now, here's the story!

INSIDE THE CIA

          Have you ever dreamed about being a secret agent, working at the top secret CIA Headquarters at Langley Virginia?  Well I have, and recently I came as close as I ever will to fulfilling that dream.  I got inside the CIA Headquarters!

     My alarm went off at 5:00 a.m. last (Thursday), June 6. and I jumped out of bed with all the enthusiasm of a young man about to go on a fishing trip with his buddies. Within half an hour, my wife, Marlene, and I were off to the airport, right on schedule.

     We pulled up to the curb at Terminal 3 in front of the Delta gate; she wished me a safe trip and drove off.  As soon as I walked through the doors, I could see that things had dramatically changed since September 11.  Armed officers patrolled the corridors with their dogs, and Customs was now a no-nonsense experience.  “Move,” said the US Customs Officer.  “Move.  Now,” he repeated.  I felt like saying, “Give me a chance to pick up my bags, they’re heavy.”  But I didn’t; I kept my mouth shut.

     When I finally arrived at the gate, my years of exposure to intelligence organizations, as well as my personal training at the hands of WWII secret agents, automatically kicked in.  I immediately looked around the room at the faces of those who would be travelling to Washington with me.  My secret agent friends had taught me, 'be in command of your 360 degree peripheral vision at all times.'

    Which one was the Sky Marshall?  It is now mandatory that all flights destined to Washington have a Sky Marshall on board. I found myself on edge, looking for anyone who might in some small way resemble my notion of a terrorist.  And I am certain that my fellow travellers were all doing the same.

    My adventure started about two months prior with an envelope I received in the mail.  I opened it and found inside a brochure advising me of the Sixtieth Anniversary of the OSS, to be held on June 7, 2002, in the CIA Headquarters at McLean, Virginia.

    Along with the brochure was a letter advising me that, as the author of Inside Camp-X, I was invited to attend.  I put both aside as I had no intention of going.  But as I started telling people about my invitation, without exception they all said that this was an once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and that, indeed, I must go!  I sent off my application form and promptly forgot about it.

     A few weeks passed.  One day, the phone rang.  I answered it and a woman's voice inquired, “Mr. Hodgson?”

     “Yes?”

     “My name is Carolyn and I’m with the CIA.”

     “Excuse me?”

     “My name is Carolyn, and I’m with the CIA.”

     “Yes.”

     “I’m calling to confirm your reservation with us at the OSS Sixtieth Anniversary, and to inform you that you have received the necessary security clearance.”  That is the short story of how I found myself on my way to Washington.

     After carefully regarding all other passengers in the boarding lounge, and determining that none of them fit my notion of a hi-jacker, I began to relax, and silently gave everyone my personal green light to board.  I proceeded to my seat at Row 12B of Delta flight 5444 from Toronto to Cincinnati.  Just as the door was about to close, a tall muscular man, fitting my idea of a hi-jacker boarded the plane.  His head was shaven, but he obviously had a full head of hair, judging by the stubble showing.  I watched him carefully, never taking my eyes off of him.  He wore a black lightweight leather jacket and chose to keep it on.  “When would he strike?”  I had my game plan ready. But no stealthy action was needed beyond my post 9/11 paranoia.

    Due to a delay, I now had only twenty minutes to make it to my connecting flight to Washington.  I hurried off the plane and to the shuttle bus that would take me to Terminal B, continually looking back over my shoulder at the man.  There he was, right on my tail. 'Please, tell me that he is not going to Washington!'

     As I came up to the concourse level, I was directed to turn right for my flight; he turned left.  Thank God!  I ran to the gate with ten minutes to spare.  I made it!

     “Hi, I’m on Delta Flight 2184.” I said.

     “Ah, did you say Delta 2184?”

     “Yes, 11:05 to Washington.”

     “Oh.  Sorry, sir, but that flight has been cancelled.”

     “Oh, weather?” I asked.

     “No, mechanical.”

     “Oh, well.  Better than the alternative," I said.

     “We have you booked on the 12:50 flight, sir.”

     And, as a typical Canadian, I said, “Terrific.  Thank you very much.”

     The next thing I knew I was sitting in the bar, “Cheers,” knocking back a tequila at 11:15 a.m.

     I made my way to Departures at Gate B13, arriving there at 12:20 p.m., a half-hour before boarding.  I had just sat down when a man made an announcement on the PA system.  “Please, vacate the boarding area while the police do a security sweep.”  Out we went.  The police combed the area with special devices and police dogs; once they were satisfied, we were cleared for boarding.

    The attendant called out that those seated in rows one to five could now board the plane.  I looked at my ticket: 1B.  The attendant had upgraded the 'polite' Canadian to First Class!  “Thank you very much.”

     Half way through the flight, the Captain came on the PA system.  “Ladies and gentlemen, in ten minutes, I will be announcing the 'no stand zone.'  This will mean that you may not stand up under any circumstances.  Should you do so, I am instructed to fly directly and immediately to Dulles Airport, and the individual who stood up will not be happy.”

     Ten minutes passed.  The Captain came back on and announced that it was now time.  Until we land and reach the gate, “Do not stand up.”

     We approached Reagan Airport.  At about 300 to 500 feet, I saw the Pentagon off to my right.  As we got closer, I realized how easy it had been for the highjackers to simply bank to the right and steer straight into the Pentagon, the Capitol, or the White House.

     Upon my arrival at the Hotel Marriott, I immediately called my contact, Alan Simpson, Executive Editor of 'Eye Spy' magazine.  He asked where I was calling from and I told him why I was so late.  He said to take the Metro down to the National Press Club, only two blocks from the White House.

    I arrived at the National Press Club building and made my way to the thirteenth floor where Alan Simpson (Associate Editor for Eye SPY Magazine) greeted me.  He and I had a drink at the bar and then he took me on a tour of the building.

     I must admit that I knew very little about the National Press Building, but I was humbled to learn that I was about to address members of the Club in the same place where every president since 1908 had addressed the world press.

     The next morning, Friday, June 7, I awoke early, got ready, and went down for breakfast.  At 7:00 a.m. I along with other guests of the CIA, boarded the bus destined for the CIA Headquarters.

     The drive was short.  Soon we saw a sign reading, “CIA: 1 mile.”  That was the first and last such identification we saw.

     As our bus turned into a driveway, we could see that the compound consisted of several hundred acres fenced in with barbed wire.  Small black boxes were attached to the fence every six feet, and I surmised that these were listening devices, connected to the numerous cameras scattered around the compound.  I assumed that they had the technology to target a car and listen to the conversation going on inside it.  The driveway we were in was actually attacked several years ago by a man who jumped out of his vehicle and started shooting with an automatic rifle, killing nine people.

     Thus, I was not surprised when we stopped at the gate and a militia type person walked around the bus as his dog checked under it.  Just then, off to my left, an unmarked car forced another car off the roadway.  A takedown ensued, and the young driver was pulled from the car and handcuffed as they proceeded to pull his car apart.

     As we entered the restricted area, we were reminded that there were no cameras, video recording, audio recording, cell phones, or any other electronic devices permitted beyond this point.  Point of interest: I had not been informed of this, and in fact, I had four cameras in my bag!

     Once we arrived at the auditorium, I figured I should come clean rather than risk the consequences, so I explained to our guide that I had not been told of the restrictions.  She said, “Oh dear,” and asked me to wait there.  She walked over to the CIA Police officer and had a quiet word with him.  He approached me and asked me to follow him to the main entrance of the CIA HQ.  We entered a huge room with a very high ceiling.  It was most unusual, I thought, as the room was completely open, approximately 150 feet square, and was a simple compounded area with a guard on duty at the desk.  To one side was a beautiful statue of William “Wild Bill” Donavon.

    The policeman asked me to leave all restricted items with the guard and pick them up on my way out.  I then returned to the group and we entered the auditorium.

    The day was most interesting and I listened to panel after panel of distinguished guests consisting of OSS personnel and era historians.  At the completion of the
speeches, the audience was given the opportunity to ask questions.  For those
who are not aware, the OSS stands for; Office of Strategic Services.  It was
formed by President Roosevelt on June 13th, 1942 and was headed by William
(Wild Bill) Donovan.  The OSS was the forerunner of today's CIA, (Central
Intelligence Agency) and had its roots at Camp-X in Canada.
 

    I asked, “How would you rate the level of contribution to the OSS of the legendary William Fairbairn.”

    All five members of the panel had “no comment,” which surprised me.  Later, at the break, an Englishman came up to me and said, “Give them both barrels.  They wouldn’t comment because the OSS despises Fairbairn and considered him boorish, a braggart, and a show off.”

    Another person confirmed that when the arena of war switched from Europe to the Far East, the order came down from the OSS, “Do not send Fairbairn.”

    Later that afternoon, we were treated to a special tour of the (closed to the public) CIA museum, which included artifacts, uniforms, secret agents’ cameras, and suitcase radios all used by the OSS agents of WWII.  We even got to see some secret devises which are still in use today.

   That evening I went to bed early knowing that the next day I had to address the National Press Club, grant an interview with 'Eye Spy' magazine, and in the evening, attend the OSS Reunion Dinner.

    On Saturday, I went down to breakfast, read the paper, and awaited my ride downtown.

    Alan and Linda Simpson were wonderful hosts.  They picked me up at 10:30 and off we were to the National Press Club where I met some very interesting people.  One such individual was Wayne, an ex National Security Agency Analyst; a very intelligent and funny man. Although he was to be picked up by a Fox Network limo at 2:00 p.m. and taken to the Fox Studio to be a guest panellist, he said that he wasn’t leaving the National Press Club until he heard my presentation.

    The presentation itself went very well and I answered many interesting and insightful questions.  Immediately afterward, I was interviewed by 'Eye Spy' magazine for a two-page spread in their next edition.

    After the interview was complete, we all returned to the bar, switched on the television to Fox, and enjoyed watching Wayne serve as a panellist taking the 'contra' side of the President’s newly released statement relative to the wide sweeping changes to the Homeland Securities Law.

        That night I had a wonderful evening with the men and women of the OSS and the next day, Sunday, I had a quiet flight home.  And by Sunday evening, I was in my shorts, sitting on my deck which overlooks Lake Scugog, and wondering to myself, 'Did I just dream all of this or did it really happen?' It's a good thing that I have these pictures to prove it.

    I'm glad that I was talked into going on this trip as I met some wonderful new
friends, made lots of new contacts, renewed old acquaintances, and realized my
life long dream of going behind the barbed wire fences of the top secret, CIA. And I'm proud to say, I was the only Canadian invited!