Вил Мирзаянов - State Secrets - An Insider's Chronicle of the Russian Chemical Weapons Program

Even now, I do not understand why he did this, because he was successful enough and even a talented scientist. Maybe such a character flaw is a sign of some kind of mental illness. Though he was able to act like this with impunity among his scientific colleagues, this practice caused him to be fired from a new position he had been promoted to, the chief of an important scientific-technical department. In his new department, practically each scientist had his own direct access to the top leadership, including the special service of the KGB, so Smirnov simply could not stand up to the competition. Still, he was quite effective in his role in developing the pilot plant for malonodinitrile production in Polotsk, Belarus.

For a long time, a special department, the Department of Ammunition Development, known as “RP”, existed in GOSNIIOKhT, and it worked with radiation chemistry and the processing of radioactive waste. It allegedly turned out to be at odds with the principal themes of the institute, but its chief, Nikolai Bogdanov, was a scientist who enjoyed the support of some well known atomic physicists. This practically guaranteed autonomy for his department. He even went to the appropriate international conferences on his own initiative. For us this was a stunning development.

We were baffled by the report that not long before this, Bogdanov had been employed as a military representative of UNKhV at the Volgograd CW pilot plant. Then retired Colonel Bogdanov became a Lenin Prize laureate for the development and introduction of the methods of vitrification (encasing radioactive material in borosilicate glass for storage) into industry.

Two scientists who had worked with Bogdanov for a long time, Oleg Plyushch and Victor Dmitriev (each who had a M.S. in Technical Science), told me how the recipient of such a prestigious prize accomplished this. Scientists from the “RP” Department and their boss were engaged in a collaborative effort with the enterprises of Minatom (Ministry of Atomic Energy) stationed in the Urals. On one of their business trip to the atomic enterprise, the locals told the Muscovites about their research, which could not be realized. Sneaky Bogdanov understood right away that a big catch could be made there, so he offered his help in getting the Lenin Prize for this work, in exchange for listing him among the researchers of the method. Nothing could be done, but to agree to such a “business proposition”. Thanks to his connections, the Lenin Prize was not a very difficult achievement for Bogdanov. That is how the former military representative became a famous scientist.

After Bogdanov’s sudden death in 1973, Director Martynov secured the breakup of the department. It was transformed into a new department, with a theme that was unfamiliar up to that time, the development of field testing for perspective chemical agents and the conducting of these tests. I think that this was a reasonable step to take, since GOSNIIOKhT depended completely on the military for this important business. Since the military had a monopoly on the situation in those days, they could easily fake the test results, at their discretion. Maybe this didn’t happen frequently, but let’s just say that scientists at the institute who had participated in field-testing, had confirmed such incidents. The former Deputy Director, Mikhail Kulikov, who had been supervising matters connected with the development of the GOSNIIOKhT branches, was appointed the head of the new “RP” department.

In his previous office, Kulikov had excelled in his very original style of leadership and administration of the branch offices. For example, one of his favorite activities when he was visiting the Volsk branch was to lead the scientists in a fire drill. He declared an alarm in all the offices and settlements where the workers lived, and all day people stopped work for a “fire drill”.

During the time of World War II, Kulikov had been a deputy director and the chief engineer of an experimental plant. He loved to tell the circle of people accompanying him on business trips stories about his life, which was rich with events.

“You know, I even cheated Beria,” he began his story. This episode was connected with his institute’s fulfillment of an important government job, that of researching the organic glass for the armored canopies of airplanes. The canopy produced at the technological institute proved to not be durable and the bullets of German fighters easily pierced it.

One day it was reported that the KGB Chief Marshal, Laverentii Beria, was coming to the institute for “discussions” with the leadership there. An order was given for all samples of aircraft canopies, including American and German ones, to be placed in a special location.

On the appointed day, Beria arrived at the institute and arranged for the testing of these canopies. On the Marshal’s order, an officer accompanying him pulled his pistol out of his holster and began to shoot at each of the samples displayed. The German and American samples remained undamaged, but ours were riddled with bullet holes throughout. “How much time do you need to correct your defective product?” the KGB Chief asked in a threatening manner.

Kulikov answered that the institute would rectify the situation in half a year. “I will be here exactly three months from now,” announced Beria. It was clear to everyone what the inevitable consequences of the follow-up visit would be: everyone who had any relationship to those who were responsible for this problem would be shot.

It was also clear at that time that any kind of serious study of the problem could hardly succeed in three months. Kulikov decided to gain some time in order to survive, and he took a desperate step. Indeed Beria arrived at the institute exactly on the day promised and dispatched the glass to the location known on the map from the first testing, and the test was repeated. The results this time were amazing: all samples, including the ones made by the institute were bulletproof.

Beria showed no outward reaction and only asked in a somewhat softened tone “How much time do you need to begin the production of these samples in the factory?” Kulikov answered that six months was sufficient for this. He was given a period of 4 months, and everyone felt that the threat had passed. No one would be shot for carrying out their job.

Still, none of those present, including the high-ranking bosses from the Ministry, failed to guess how Kulikov had “corrected” the situation. He simply set up an American glass sample for the test, after having removed all its trademarks. Later on this business became much easier. Quickly a regular supply of American glass was established, on the scale needed for aircraft construction. The production of durable bulletproof glass was achieved in a Soviet factory, but only after a year had passed. Meanwhile, Kulikov’s wits saved his life and the lives of many “responsible” people.

In fairness to Kulikov, I must note that he found the people necessary in a short period of time to organize the work in his department. His most important decision in the beginning was to invite Professor Mikhael Baranaev, a strong specialist in CW applications, from the Military Academy of Chemical Defense, to head up the conversion training.

Baranaev was a general who was notable for his in-depth studies of the mass transfer process of chemicals in the atmosphere, under the influence of different factors. Over a period of 30 years he developed mathematical methods of modeling these processes. I repeatedly used his equations and formulas for measuring the concentrations of vapors of chemical agents, after injecting them into air flowing at different speeds, with different temperatures and humidity. There were no cases in which my experimental results did not agree with the theoretical figures obtained by Baranaev’s methods.