All language subtitles for Secrets.Declassified.with.David.Duchovny.S02E06.Cracking.the.Code.1080p.HULU.WEB-DL.AAC2.0.H.264-RAWR_track3_[eng]

Tonight on
"Secrets Declassified,"

cracking secret codes that
win battles and save lives,

from the Pacific,
where a U.S. codebreaker races

to prevent another
Pearl Harbor...

This code is just about
impossible to break.

To Vietnam, where U.S. airmens'
escape route is plotted

with clues from
an unusual source...

They're gonna use the layout

of his favorite golf courses
as a code.

To a housewife in Virginia

that reveals her husband
is selling

top secret codes to the enemy.

Tucked away in the closet
is a grocery bag

stuffed with classified
Navy documents.

These are the astonishing
and sometimes terrible things

done by governments and
the people who work for them.

It's time to bring them
to light.

The first hole at
Tucson National Golf Course

is 430 yards
and bends to the left.

The fourth at Abilene
Country Club is 195 yards.

They might sound
like trivial facts,

but for one U.S. airman
shot down behind enemy lines

in Vietnam,
they're the difference

between life and death.

On Good Friday, 1972,

the North Vietnamese
launch a massive

surprise assault
into South Vietnam.

The U.S. Air Force
scrambles to launch

a series of
tactical air strikes

to try and contain
this invasion.

And many airmen
who've been looking forward

to some leave suddenly find
themselves back on active duty.

One of the
unlucky men recalled from R&R

is 53-year-old Gene Hambleton.

Gene Hambleton is a navigator
and an electronics specialist

in the U.S. Air Force.

He seems old
to still be flying

combat missions, but it's
his expertise in jamming

enemy radar that puts him
back into the cockpit

heading to North Vietnam.

Just minutes
into his mission,

his airplane is struck,
and he finds himself

having to parachute
into enemy territory.

For the U.S. military,

Hambleton isn't just
another man down.

Because of his seniority,

Hambleton has
an intimate knowledge

of top secret strategic
air command operations.

He cannot be allowed
to fall into enemy hands.

The race is on
to find Hambleton

before the enemy does.

The Air Force manages to make
radio contact with Hambleton,

and they launch one air evac
after another.

But the rescue choppers
keep getting shot down.

Then the Navy SEALs propose

a different kind of rescue.

Their plan is to covertly
sail up the Mieu Giang River

and pluck Hambleton
from an extraction point

two miles away
from his current location.

There's one big problem.

The survival radio
that Hambleton has

allows him to communicate
with American forces,

but it also allows
the enemy to listen in

on those transmissions.

They're going
to need a secret code,

which only Hambleton
can understand.

That's a lot easier said
than done.

The rescuers reach out
to Hambleton's squadron

to find things out
about his personal life,

so they can come up
with a coded language

that he would understand
and the enemy wouldn't.

They discover that Hambleton

is an avid golfer,
but not only that,

he has freakishly
encyclopedic knowledge

about the world's most renowned
golf courses.

Maybe they can encode
a route to the extraction point

using the layout

of his favorite golf courses
as a code.

It's a crazy idea,
but it's the only hope

the Air Force has of
getting their man back.

The rescue team
starts overlaying

golf course plans over
aerial reconnaissance photos.

And they start
plotting a route

to the extraction point

across farmland that
also stays away from roads

and enemy positions,

and they break that plan down
into nine stages.

Each of those
stages corresponds

to the individual length
and bearing of a hole

from an iconic golf course.

Forget Whistling Straits,
Augusta, or the Ocean Course.

This will be the toughest round
of golf anyone has ever played.

On April 10th,
Hambleton's radio

crackles to life.

The voice on the other end
belongs to

Air Force Captain Harold Ike.

Hambleton's life depends

on him being able to decode
what he hears next.

Ike tells him,

you're going to play
nine holes,

and you're going to get
in the Suwannee.

The round starts at number one
at Tucson National.

Now, at first,
Hambleton's totally confused

as would be any
of the North Vietnamese

that are listening in.

But then Hambleton realizes
that message

is so strange,
it must be a code.

The Suwannee
is a river in the U.S.,

So he figures they must be
giving him coded directions

to get to a nearby river.

Hambleton racks his brains

trying to remember
everything he can

about the course at Tucson.

The first hole is 430 yards
running southeast.

Suddenly, he realizes
that's his first direction.

Hambleton can hear
enemy activity all around,

so he waits until the cover of
nightfall before teeing off.

As he starts moving,
it's tough going for Hambleton.

He has to count his strides,
moving through darkness,

navigating through
potential minefields,

and avoiding enemy soldiers.

After 40 minutes,
he makes it to the first hole.

That's one hole down.
Eight more to go.

He makes it through four holes

before dawn breaks
when he takes cover again.

Next evening,
he moves on to hole 5,

and this one comes
with a serious hazard.

The fifth hole
is the number four

at Abilene Country Club,
where Hambleton

once hit a hole in one.

This time it's not so easy.

The route takes him right
through the outskirts

of a Vietnamese village.

As he's tiptoeing
through this village,

suddenly,
from around a building,

a man leaps out at him
brandishing a blade.

Instinct takes over,
and Hambleton

pulls out his own knife,
plunging it into his attacker

before escaping onward
into the jungle.

Now his next round
is against the clock,

because once
the body is discovered,

the North Vietnamese
will be hot on his trail.

Over the final four holes,

Hambleton grows
weaker and weaker.

After three days,

Hambleton makes it to
the ninth and final hole.

He locates his extraction
point and waits.

It feels like his ordeal
is nearly over.

Then Hambleton's heart sinks.

He spots
a sampan boat heading upriver

towards him, with a
Vietnamese man on the prowl,

holding an AK-47.

Days of surviving
in the jungle,

only to get caught now.

But then someone else
emerges from the boat.

It's an American.

It's the Navy SEAL
extraction team.

News of Hambleton's rescue

hits the headlines, but
something crucial is missing.

All mention of the
Navy's clever code

has been scrubbed
from the stories.

The secret remains locked away
for nearly a decade,

until 1980, when Hambleton
finally reveals

the story of
his amazing escape

and the world hears of one
of the U.S. military's

most audacious codes.

Improvising a code
to rescue a man

behind enemy lines
is one thing.

But during World War II,
the U.S. military

needs something that can
save thousands

and help turn the tide
of the war.

So they turned to
an unlikely source,

an ancient
Native American language.

After months
of Naval warfare,

the U.S. military is prepping
to engage the Japanese

on land for the first time,

and their plan is to
island hop their way

across the Pacific towards
the Japanese mainland.

Radio communication will play

a pivotal role
in the campaign,

but it has a downside.

In the chaos of battle,

there is no quick way
to encrypt

or decrypt
battlefield commands.

So Japanese forces
will be able to hear

everything the U.S. is saying.

In 1942, an engineer

raised in a remote region
of Arizona

has an idea which could
change all that.

His name is Philip Johnston.

Philip Johnston was

actually raised by missionaries
on a Navajo reservation.

And as such, he learned
the Navajo language.

Johnston recommends
to the U.S. Army

using Navajo speakers
as code talkers,

communicating battlefield
orders in real time

before the Japanese
can decipher them.

It's estimated that less
than 30 non-Navajo

speak the language in 1942,

making the odds
of a Japanese soldier

being able to understand
Navajo virtually zero.

When the U.S. military hears

about Johnston's idea,
they take notice.

He's asked to come in
and put his idea to the test.

In February 1942,
Johnston assembles

four Navajo men at
Camp Elliott in San Diego.

Under the scrutiny
of the top brass,

the Navajo sit
in separate offices

and are made to relay
half a dozen simple messages

to each other via telephone.

The Navajo test subjects
perform flawlessly.

The messages are relayed
far faster

than they could have been
encoded and decoded,

and there's not a single
mistake among them.

Johnston's big idea
gets the green light.

Now he needs to scale it up
for battle.

Hundreds of Navajo
volunteer for service,

and they're rapidly given
basic military training.

But pretty soon,
a problem arises.

The Navajo language is
almost a thousand years old,

but this language
doesn't contain

any words for modern warfare.

To get around
the missing words,

Johnston proposes
using everyday words

that have military meanings.

So for example,
"whale" became the word

that was used for battleships.

In November 1942,

the first 13
Navajo code talkers

are deployed to the Pacific.

It's finally time
to put Johnston's idea

to the ultimate test
in the heat of battle.

Chester Nez and Roy Begay

are two of the first
Navajo code talkers

who arrive in Guadalcanal.

And they have
a literal trial by fire.

On the 7th of November,

Chester and Roy's platoon
comes under attack

as they try to take
an airfield.

They are pinned down.

A runner comes with
an urgent message

to call in
an artillery strike.

While bullets and
mortar rounds whiz overhead,

Chester begins
transmitting the message

to call in the artillery strike

in his native language
of Navajo.

Seconds later,
artillery buzz overhead,

neutralizing the Japanese
machine gun nest

holding them down.

The entire message

took just 20 seconds
to send and receive.

If sent using standard
military code,

it would have taken
30 minutes,

by which time Roy
and Chester's company

would have been annihilated.

Roy and Chester's commanding
general contacts his superiors,

saying this Navajo code
is terrific.

The enemy never understood it.

We don't understand it either,
but it works.

Send us more Navajos.

After the arrival
of the Navajo code talkers,

the American forces
go on to win

the Battle of Guadalcanal.

It's a decisive point
in the fighting

in the Southwest Pacific.

The Navajo code talkers

continued to play
a critical role,

including in pivotal action
at Iwo Jima and Bougainville.

And the Japanese
never managed to figure out

their ancient language.

After the war is over,
code talkers

don't get the official
recognition they deserve.

While part of that is due
to race relations at the time,

a larger part
is due to the oath

that the code talkers took,

promising to keep
their operations secret

in case they were ever called
upon in time of need again.

Only in 1968 is

the service record of the
code talkers declassified.

Then, in 2008,
President George W. Bush

signs the Code Talkers
Recognition Act,

and the hidden heroes
of the Pacific War

are finally given their due.

After Pearl Harbor,
a U.S. codebreaker

discovers Japan is planning an
even more devastating attack,

only he doesn't know where.

If he can't crack
the Japanese cipher,

then the whole U.S. Pacific
Fleet could be destroyed.

On December 7, 1941,

the Japanese launch
a surprise attack

on the U.S. fleet
at Pearl Harbor,

claiming the lives of
over 2,400 Americans.

Pearl Harbor ranks with 9/11
as the worst

intelligence failure
in American history.

Captain Joseph Rochefort

is the head of
the codebreaking unit

at Pearl Harbor.

Rochefort vows to make sure
the U.S. will never

be ambushed like this again.

In the aftermath
of the attack,

Rochefort and his
team are tasked

with cracking the notorious
Japanese code JN-25.

The code uses a huge
codebook to translate

common words and phrases into
individual five-digit numbers.

From there, there's

an additive codebook
that then scrambles

those numbers yet again.

This dual system makes it just
about impossible to break.

Rochefort and his team

began studying the mass
of Japanese communications

from the days leading up
to Pearl Harbor.

Rochefort discovers that, in
the rush before Pearl Harbor,

the Japanese coders
got careless.

They began transmitting
codes using

an additive book
that had already been

partially cracked by the U.S.

This allows Rochefort
to spot something else.

It seems that when
the Japanese are discussing

target locations,
they use the prefix A

to represent U.S. interests
in the Pacific.

AI seems to stand for Oahu.

AH is Hawaii;
AK, Pearl Harbor.

Soon after Rochefort
has discovered these

two-letter codes,
a fresh set of intercepts

arrive mentioning a fourth
two-letter code location.

Japanese air commanders
are inquiring about wind speed

for an upcoming attack on AF.

What the Americans
don't want is to be caught

in some kind of trap.

It's so very important
to know exactly where AF is.

Rochefort is reading

the messages over and over,
and then it hits him.

He looks at who
the message was sent to

and who it wasn't sent to.

And Rochefort
notices that there was

one military branch that
didn't receive the message,

submarine commanders.

If submarines
are not included,

this attack is likely
to be an air attack,

meaning AF needs to be within
range of the Japanese base

on the Marshall Islands,
where their

aircraft carriers
are harbored.

That narrows down AF to only
a few possible locations.

By process of elimination,

he knows the attack can't be
on the Hawaiian Islands

because they have a code name
assigned to them.

And so, narrowing it down,

he knows that AF
has to indicate

the American bases on Midway.

Rochefort believes
he's cracked the code

and knows where
the attack will happen.

But it all counts
for nothing if he

can't convince his commanders.

The stakes couldn't be higher.

It's crucial
that the Americans

hold on to Midway.

After the losses already
suffered at Pearl Harbor,

to lose Midway at this point
would kind of be like

the 1-2 punch that
really makes the knockout.

Rochefort has this sense
that AF is Midway,

but he can't prove it.

And there's no way that he is
going to advise Admiral Nimitz,

who commanded
the Pacific Fleet,

to send out America's
remaining carriers

to ambush the Japanese
on that kind of hunch.

So he comes up with a plan.

Rochefort arranges for

Midway's garrison commander
to send a fake message,

saying that they're low
on fresh water.

Now, if the message
is sent uncoded,

the Japanese will immediately
realize it's fake.

So Rochefort gets
the message sent

using a U.S. cipher that
he knows the Japanese

have already cracked.

Then Rochefort waits.

48 hours later, he gets the
response he was banking on.

Rochefort's team
decodes a message

about the imminent attack
on AF,

and it specifically states
AF is low on water.

This is the clincher
Admiral Nimitz needs.

AF is Midway.

This is the kind
of intelligence

that commanders dream of.

Nimitz understood that,
if he got it right,

the Japanese Pacific fleet
would be devastated.

Somebody was headed
for an ambush.

Would it be the Americans
or the Japanese?

Wasting no time,

Admiral Nimitz sends
three aircraft carriers

with 117 aircraft
to await the Japanese.

On June the 4th, 1942,

they catch the Japanese fleet
entirely by surprise.

The Battle of Midway
is resounding naval victory

for the United States.

The United States sends
to the bottom of the Pacific

four Japanese
aircraft carriers,

thus neutralizing the
Japanese threat in the Pacific.

Midway is such
an incredible triumph

that everyone wants
a piece of the glory.

And credit for
cracking JN-25 is

ultimately claimed by the
Director of Naval Intelligence.

And Rochefort's role
is basically

forgotten from history.

Only in 1985,
when a book is published

by a former colleague,
is Rochefort finally

revealed as the unsung hero

who stopped
a second Pearl Harbor.

The following year, he is
posthumously awarded

the Navy Distinguished
Service Medal.

When a U.S. POW in
North Vietnam's

Hanoi Hilton wants
to reveal to the world

that he's being tortured,

he does it without
his captors noticing.

Blink, and you'll miss it.

Commander Jeremiah Denton

is an experienced
and respected career aviator

in the U.S. Navy.

In 1965, he's flying
a bombing mission

when his airplane is struck
by anti-aircraft fire.

Denton manages to bail out
and parachute to safety,

but he's quickly captured
by Vietnamese forces

who take him to
the infamous prison Hoa Lo.

The prison is
better known among U.S. POWs

by its nickname,
the Hanoi Hilton.

But there's nothing luxurious
about the conditions

Denton checks into.

Hoa Lo is a horrid situation
for the aviators

that are held there.

The Vietnamese classify
American aviators

as air pirates, and they claim
that they are not protected

by the Geneva Convention.

They are kept in
a prison facility

where they're often subjected
to harsh interrogation

and torture.

They're not allowed
to communicate

with one another,

and any attempt to speak
to a fellow prisoner

will probably result
in a pretty nasty beating.

Denton understands
keeping his sanity

intact relies on one thing.

He must find a way to connect
with his fellow inmates.

Denton discovers
that the POWs

have already found
a way to communicate

without using spoken words.

They pass messages by
tapping on their cell walls

in Morse code.

Through their
secret communications,

Denton is able to incite
a campaign of resistance.

But the guards identify
Denton as the ringleader.

He is beaten and
brutally tortured.

In October 1967,

Denton is moved to
another prison unit

reserved for the inmates
deemed to be troublemakers.

This one has the less
ironic nickname, Alcatraz.

Here, the tap code won't work.

Alcatraz is
a much harsher system,

and the guards
will inflict punishment

on any individual
who appears to be

communicating via Morse code
or any other form

of encryption system.

Denton is desperate
to communicate

with any of
the other POWs there,

but he's terrified
of any more torture.

So Denton starts
devising an entirely

new code based on the sounds
he hears all around him,

and that the guards would
never think twice about--

coughs and sniffs.

Due to the
terrible conditions,

practically all the inmates

have some sort of
respiratory problem.

So coughs and sniffs
will easily

fall under the cover
of the current

environmental conditions.

With this new code,
a single cough means one,

a cough or a sniff twice
means two,

and so forth and so on.

Using a standard
five by five grid,

where each letter
is designated two numbers

between one and five,

the airmen are able to
spell out full messages

to each other without
anyone ever detecting it.

Denton wants
to speak to more

than his fellow prisoners.

What he dreams of
is to be able to tell

the outside world of
the brutal conditions

being endured by POWs.

One time out of the blue,

Denton got
an incredible opportunity.

After nearly 10 months
of captivity,

the guards informed Denton
that the following day

he is to be interviewed
in front of a global audience.

Denton is told that this

media appearance
is very important,

and he is warned to be
on his best behavior.

It's entirely likely that,
if he doesn't comply,

he'll be killed.

How can he tell the world
what's happening

without his captors
finding out?

Denton's solution is
ingenious and so sensitive,

it remains secret
for years to come.

Morning comes, and Denton

is taken out of his cell,
blindfolded,

and driven away
from the prison.

He finds himself in
a nicely-appointed room,

sitting in front of
a Japanese journalist and crew.

Denton has no idea how

he can subvert this interview.

But then it's action.

The lights go on,
and he's temporarily blinded,

and he squints and blinks
to try to avert

the light from his eyes.

And then the idea comes to him.

Denton is answering
the questions

in the way that his captors
want him to.

But his eyes are telling
a completely different story.

Denton's blinking
is actually spelling out

a message in Morse code.

The message spells out
one word, "torture."

In plain sight,
with the world watching,

Denton spells out "torture"
in Morse code again and again,

a single word
that says it all.

The North Vietnamese don't
notice what Denton is up to,

and the broadcast is actually
transmitted worldwide.

This is big news.

It's the first indication that

the United States has
that North Vietnam

is violating
the Geneva Convention.

Denton has no idea

if his message has been heard.

The U.S. authorities
never make public

his blink code,
fearful that it would lead

to more extreme consequences,

like more beatings
or even execution.

He doesn't find out
that his code

was actually received
until 1973

when he's finally released.

A year later,
Denton is awarded

the Navy Cross for
his conduct during captivity.

But the full story
of his ordeal

remains unknown until 1975,

when he publishes his memoir,
"When Hell Was In Session."

And now the world finally
discovers the story

of Denton's courageous
blinking code.

What if I told you that
a key part of beating

the Nazi's unbreakable
Enigma code

was a bunch of Ohio
factory workers

who made cash registers?

It's a wartime secret
so sensitive

that it remains under wraps
for more than 50 years.

In the early 1940s,

it's open season
in the North Atlantic

for Nazi submarine wolfpacks.

The German Navy is sinking
vast numbers of Allied ships.

From the summer of 1940

into the spring of 1941,
hundreds of allied ships

are sent to the bottom of the
Atlantic by German U-boats.

It's what the U-boat crews
gloatingly call the happy time.

The secret weapon
behind all this

is the Enigma device,
a code machine the Nazis used

to encrypt orders
to their submarine fleet.

If the Allies are to escape
the U-boat attacks,

this code needs breaking.

But that's no easy task.

The Enigma machine
is a typewriter-like device

that's used to encrypt messages
and then unencrypt them

so they can be read normally.

For the process to work,
both the sending and receiving

Enigma machines
have three rotors

that have to be set to
the same configurations.

And those are determined by
using the key from a code book.

Unless you had the code book

and the setting sheets,

it is impossible to solve this
by simple trial and error.

Then, in 1941, the British

have a major stroke of luck.

Their Navy captures
an enemy U-boat

with an intact Enigma machine
plus codebooks.

Now they are able to use
their own decryption device,

which they call the bombe.

Overnight, they can
now listen to encrypted

German communications.
U-boat patrols are tracked.

Thousands of lives are saved.

But nine months later,

the German Navy decides
to ramp up their security.

In February of 1942,
the Germans quietly

roll out a new version
of the Enigma machine

that has now
a new fourth rotor.

Adding that single extra dial
results in the number

of extra settings possible
for encrypting the codes

increasing exponentially.

There are now 92
septillion different ways

to set up a German 4-rotor
Naval Enigma machine.

It's a complete disaster
for the Allies,

and they are
completely locked out

of German Naval-encrypted
communications.

U-boats basically
go on the rampage again.

The British need a much faster

version of the bombe.

And that means
not having to design

a mechanical
decryption device,

but an electronic one.

The British are struggling
to produce these machines,

so they turn to
the United States,

and they ask for assistance.

Washington starts
looking for someone

to build this new,
improved bombe.

They need a visionary
engineer with a team

of electronics experts in
a vast manufacturing space.

They find all three
in Dayton, Ohio,

at the National
Cash Register Company,

or NCR.

The NCR is
a world leader in electronics,

and they just
invented the world's first

electronic accounting machine

that runs at a million pulses
per second, a megahertz.

NCR has an enormous

production facility in Dayton.

They're led by Joseph Desch,
an engineer

who has an intrinsic grasp of
the potential of electronics.

Desch designs a way

of scaling up
the British bombe,

utilizing the might of
American engineering.

The biggest issue is it comes
with an incredible price tag,

around $4 million each.

It also weighs
over 2 and 1/2 tons.

So it needs to be built
in a special room of the NCR

with one of the first
steel-reinforced

concrete floors
in the United States.

The Navy
signs off on the costs,

and Desch's team
gets building.

The process
is relentless,

with the team working
seven days a week.

Finally, on May 28, 1943,

after 11 long months,
Desch's super sized bombe

gets its first test.

Inside the NCR,

Desch switches on the machine.

And he feeds it
an Enigma M4 message.

The machine starts up.

It begins to whine.

And then the machine stops.

It seems like
an electrical short circuit,

and the teams are deflated.

But suddenly
it springs back to life.

And incredibly
the machine scores a hit.

It prints out the precise key
used to encipher the message.

They then use that key
to set the rotors

on their own Enigma machine.

They can then decipher
the code and reveal

the original message.

Desch has done it.

He sends the results direct

to the codebreakers
in Washington.

Soon, Desch's machines

are being put to work
decrypting German messages.

The Americans and
the British are actually

decrypting Enigma
messages faster

than the German recipients are.

After NCR and its
decryption machines

start going into action,

the tide turns against
the German U-boat commanders.

It stops being a happy time,

and it starts becoming
a Nazi-hunting time.

For over 50 years,

the Dayton codebreakers'
contribution

to breaking Enigma
remains classified.

Desch and the women
who made the U.S. bombe

take their secrets
to the grave.

Only in 1995, after a
campaign by Desch's daughter,

is their role
finally acknowledged.

It's 1968.

Someone is selling
the U.S. Navy's

top secrets to the Soviets,

and the Navy brass have
no idea it's even happening.

When the truth is finally
revealed after two decades,

it's not by the FBI or the CIA.

It's by a disgruntled spouse.

Senior U.S. Naval officials
are a bit troubled.

Time and again, their opponents
seem to gain the upper hand

on them and
anticipate their moves

with almost clairvoyant skill.

From tracking their subs
in the Atlantic

to eventually dodging
bombing raids in Vietnam,

they sense that
something is up.

The U.S. has
no idea how this is happening.

It's as if the USSR has
cracked U.S. Naval codes.

To U.S. commanders,
that's a ludicrous suggestion.

At this time,
the U.S. Navy uses

one of the world's
most advanced coding machines,

known as the KW7.

It is one of the first fully
electronic coding machines,

faster and more secure
than ever before.

In order to break this code,

the enemy would have to get
their hands on a KW7 machine

and have access
to the key cards

that are necessary
to operate it.

Those key cards, however,
are changed out regularly,

usually about once a month.

And that means that even if
the Soviets get their hands

on a machine, well,
they'd still have

to have the latest
key card in order

to figure out what
a coded message says.

The Soviets have got
their hands on some KW7s

after a U.S. ship was
captured in North Korea.

But because the captured
machines didn't have key cards

with them, the U.S. Navy
believed that their code

was still secure.

A series of security
breaches followed,

but the Navy is sure that this
is just a run of bad luck.

It's not just bad luck.

It's something far worse.

Their top secret code
is no longer secret.

The truth is
first discovered

not by a cryptography
specialist,

but by a housewife in Virginia.

Barbara Walker
is the wife of John Walker,

a radioman in the U.S. Navy.

From the outside, they have
a happy life with four kids.

They'd had money troubles
before,

but now they live
a very comfortable life,

a fact she puts down
to John's rising career.

One day, Barbara Walker
comes across something strange.

Tucked away in a closet
is a grocery bag

stuffed with classified
Navy documents.

And they've been hidden away
there by John.

When confronted,
Walker comes clean.

He's been stealing
top secret information

and passing it
to the Soviets in exchange

for millions of dollars.

Among John Walker's
responsibilities

is taking care of these
KW7 seven cards.

It's his duty
and responsibility

to destroy the old ones
and to safeguard the new ones.

But instead of doing that,

he's sending them
to the Soviets.

Once they have the keycards,

the Soviets can decode
the American messages

that they recorded
over the previous month.

The Soviets then tunnel

their way into at least
a million

encrypted Naval messages.

It's the most damaging

code breach in U.S. history,

and the Americans don't
even know it's happening.

For over ten years,

John is able
to intimidate Barbara

into keeping his secret.

Barbara is terrified
of her husband's temper.

And she fears that,
if she goes to the authorities,

she might lose her kids.

Over the years, John secretly
drags more family members

into his twisted spy world,
including

one of their adult sons.

Then in 1984,
Barbara finally

breaks John's hold over her.

Barbara learns that
John recently attempted

to pull their daughter in.

Even though
the daughter refused,

she picks up the phone
and calls the FBI.

She tells them
about the drops,

what he's doing,
how this all works.

As they listen, they see
the KGB patterns at play.

Furthermore,
as they investigate Walker,

it becomes clear that
he has a little more cash

than one should
for his station.

And he's taking some
rather odd trips at odd times.

But they need more than

just circumstantial evidence.

So they attempt to
catch John in the act.

In May 1985,
the FBI trails Walker

to a wooded area
near Washington, DC,

and watches him hide
a package before leaving,

a classic dead drop.

Agents move in
and retrieve the documents.

It's a goldmine.

Inside, they find 129 pages
of classified material.

John is arrested at his hotel
room just a few hours later.

Faced with the
prospect of life in prison,

Walker does
the only thing he can.

He makes a deal.

In exchange for
his full confession,

he negotiates a more lenient
sentence for his son, Michael.

John Walker is sentenced
to life in prison.

For the Russians,
this has been

a brilliantly simple strategy.

Their code breakers haven't
had to crack anything.

All they had to do was
crack open the checkbook.

The story explodes
across the media,

along with Walker's
stinging comment

that Kmart has better security
than the Navy.

When the story
of this domestic spy ring

goes public,
it reveals huge flaws

in U.S. Naval security,

leading to the implementation
of new security measures

to ensure
this won't happen again.

It's New York in 1919.

A poker prodigy
is lying in bed.

He's about to doze off
when he's

struck by a flash
of inspiration,

one that will help him
crack a notoriously

difficult Japanese code.

In the aftermath
of World War I,

American leaders have
learned a hard lesson.

Information is power.

So if you can read
other nations codes,

you can know what your
enemies and even your friends

are really thinking.

Even in peacetime,

Washington doesn't want to
rely on what other governments

choose to tell them,

so they decide
to start cracking

other countries' codes.

The U.S. turns to an
unlikely establishment

that publishes puzzle books
from a nondescript brownstone

in New York City.

It's the secret
headquarters of the U.S.'s

most advanced
code-breaking operation,

called the Cipher Bureau,

an outfit so secret
that it doesn't

even officially exist--

essentially,
a U.S. government black op.

The young man who runs this

is Herbert Yardley,
a prodigy with a flair

for numbers and puzzles.

In fact,
he funded his education

through poker winnings.

Working for
the State Department,

he secretly cracked
a coded message,

meant only for the president
in just two hours.

From there, Yardley's skills
land him his own gig,

running the secret codebreaking
team for the U.S. government

under its cover as
a puzzle publisher.

Yardley and his Cipher Bureau

break all kinds of codes
for the U.S. government.

Around 20 countries
have their messages

cracked by Yardley's outfit.

The Cipher Bureau's
most fiendish challenge

is cracking Japanese
coded telegrams.

These are concerned with
Japanese and U.S. negotiations

over a Naval Arms
Limitation Treaty.

Yardley's Cipher
Bureau is given

a collection of diplomatic
cables from Japan to decode.

And this is
a monumental challenge

because, even before
you consider any encryption,

Japanese is
incredibly complicated.

Instead of
a 26-letter alphabet

like we have in English,
they have the kana,

which is a collection of
every possible syllable sound,

and there are 73 of those.

Despite the scale
of the challenge,

Yardley vows that
if he doesn't break the code

within a year, he will resign.

But after half a year,
Yardley still can't

discern any real patterns.

He's really starting
to wish he hadn't been

so hasty offering to resign.

Yardley dedicates so much of
his time to breaking the codes

that he even starts
dreaming about them.

And one night,
inspiration strikes.

Suddenly,
he's able to pick out

the Japanese word for Ireland
in the telegrams.

Irish independence is
in the news right now,

and the Japanese
are discussing it

in their diplomatic telegrams.

Now it's like he has
the corner of a jigsaw puzzle,

and he builds out from this,

cracking one syllable
and then another.

And finally,
after six months,

Yardley and his team have
the Japanese code

completely defeated.

Yardley's work helped

secure a historic peace deal
on U.S. terms,

and Yardley is rewarded with
a Distinguished Service Medal.

But this becomes
the high point

of his code-breaking career.

By 1929,
after a series of funding cuts,

Yardley's Cipher Bureau
is closed for good.

But because it didn't
officially exist,

he's not able to draw
a civil service pension.

So in the end,
he ends up broke.

Feeling betrayed,

Yardley decides to publish
a tell-all book

called "The American Black Chamber."

This effectively makes him
the Edward Snowden of his time,

but it also makes him
a small fortune.

He rakes in the equivalent
of half a million dollars

in today's currency.

The U.S. government
is outraged by Yardley

having gone from
their secret puzzle nerd

to a rogue operator.

Yardley's book is
an embarrassment

to the U.S. government.

Because of it,
some 19 nations are alerted

that their codes
have been broken

by the United States.

They can't throw him in jail
because only limited laws exist

on spilling state secrets.

In March of 1933,

Congress amends
the Espionage Act

by passing an act
for the protection

of government records.

This prohibits the disclosure
of anything sent in code.

These laws
Yardley inspired

become informally known as
the Official Secrets Act,

and they still bind
government officials today.

From a prison cell
to battlefields,

secret codes are a vital way
nations hide information

from their enemies.

But for every locked door,
there is a key,

and for every code,

a genius mind
trying to crack it.