Operation Solo Read Free Page A

instantly would use it in their defense. To them, he was as a son. In consequence of a false allegation of misconduct, FBI headquarters proposed removing Boyle from the operation. To the FBI, Eva, at the behest of Morris, spoke dulcet words whose import was not sweet: If Walt goes, we quit and the operation ends. Boyle stayed.
    Fox started working with Morris and Eva after being appointed Boyle’s supervisor in 1971. He incidentally mentioned that his unexplainable absences at night or on weekends caused his wife to fear that he was seeing another woman. Eva’s blue eyes smiled at him. “Why don’t you introduce her to the other woman?” Morris and Eva became like relatives of the Fox family, and the children called them “Aunt Eva” and “Uncle Morris.” Eva in turn called Fox, who was part Sioux Indian, “my favorite Baptist Indian.” Although his ascent into the leadership of the FBI later separated him from the operation, he remained their friend and patron throughout his FBI career.
    Eva asked if another team member, retired FBI Agent John Langtry, was coming to the funeral. Langtry had long worked with Jack in New York; he had assisted Morris and Eva whenever they were there, and she very much liked him. Fox explained that Langtry was unable to travel because he was recuperating from major surgery.
    â€œWell, we can’t afford to lose John,” Eva said. “Now they’re only five of us left. We were a very little team. But we pulled off quite a caper, didn’t we?”
    Some fifty relatives of Morris and Eva gathered in the chapel for the private service. Midway through the ritual, the rabbi paused
and announced that Mr. James Fox, assistant director of the FBI, would speak. At mention of the FBI, some in the congregation gasped audibly; Boyle saw one woman, apparently unable to close her mouth, clasp her hand over it; another stared incredulously at Eva.
    Fox, tall and dignified with gray hair, looked like a handsome, urbane diplomat as he stood behind the podium. “My name is Jim Fox. I am a friend of Morris Childs.” More gasps. Morris and Eva, friends of the FBI !
    Most of you here today probably think you knew Morris Childs. I can tell you with certainty that outside the FBI no one here today knows of the enormous contributions Morris Childs made to the security of the United States.
    I am not at liberty to detail exactly what Morris accomplished over the years. I can assure you that his accomplishments were staggering. And I can say that whenever I hear people talking about a sensational James Bond movie or something from Mission Impossible , I think, “I know a better story, the story of Morris Childs.”
    Morris was as kind and gentle as any man I have ever known. Yet for all his gentleness, leaders of both the free world and communist world repeatedly sought his advice.
    Once we told a very high White House official [Henry Kissinger, then national security advisor to the president] that we had reviewed the operation and decided to discontinue it for security reasons. This official replied that while he respected our judgment, he had to have the information Morris provided and that the operation would continue.
    I recall two occasions on which Morris perhaps sensed something of the enormity and importance of his achievements.
    On February 29, 1988, at our headquarters in Washington, Director William Sessions, in the presence of
Eva, presented Morris with the highest award the United States government can give a civilian. Morris, in failing health, struggled to his feet and for five or six minutes brilliantly told of what it means to serve freedom and the future of our children.
    In late 1989, I stayed away from the office to work at home and by chance turned on the early CNN news showing the collapse of the Berlin Wall and communism in Eastern Europe. I put work aside and throughout the day watched history unfold before my eyes. That