Okay, people seemed interested in my last post where I asked if anyone wanted to hear my undergraduate history thesis research on the "real" Perseus, which the character from Black Ops Cold War was based on, so here it is (below the cut)!
The majority of what we know about Perseus all comes from one man, Colonel Vladimir Chikov, a public relations manager for the KGB.
The earliest mentions of a spy known as Perseus appear in 1991, in newspaper articles published by Chikov, who wrote multiple books and articles throughout the 1990s in which he 'revealed' Soviet secrets following the collapse. Perseus is mentioned in many of these, and through these we get a limited picture of the 'real' man.
Perseus was allegedly the assigned codename of an American physicist at Chicago University. Chikov claimed that Perseus had been recruited by the KGB while visiting his parents in New York City sometime between autumn 1941 and summer 1942. While in New York he ran into an acquaintance whom he had met while volunteering in the Spanish Civil War (1936-1939), Morris Cohen, codenamed by the Soviets as 'Volunteer' or 'Louis.' The two discussed Perseus' invitation to work on the Manhattan Project and, somehow, the conversation led to Cohen revealing that he was working as a spy for the Soviet Union. Perseus, in response, had expressed a desire to work for the Soviets himself, and Cohen passed it along to his and his wife, Lona's handler, Anatoly Yatskov.
Chikov alleged in his books and articles that Perseus vehemently refused any kind of compensation for his spy work, and that he "had taken such a step for purely humane reasons," due to his fear that the United States would use the atomic bomb against the Soviet Union, a common reason given by Manhattan Project spies.
When it comes to physical descriptions of Perseus, there isn't a whole lot to go off of. The closest we have is (allegedly) from Morris Cohen's wife, Lona, who Chikov claims met with Perseus numerous times. In Chikov's book Русские Нелегалы в США (Russian Illegals in the USA), Chikov claims that Lona had met Perseus in Albuquerque, New Mexico in order to collect an information drop off hidden in the bottom of a box of tissues which she returned to her and Morris' handler, Yatskov. She describes Perseus, upon seeing him for the first time, as "a short man in a straw hat, a white T-shirt, and matching sandals walking from the cafeteria. In his left hand, he was clutching a yellow bag with a fish tail sticking out,” and as “quite a typical person, although outwardly he looked like a rather colorless person, with a pale thin face and large fishy eyes." This very fish themed description is why my Perseus tag is a fish emoji!
Information about Perseus fizzled out shortly after Chikov stopped publishing articles and books.
Throughout this I put 'real' in quotes as its generally agreed upon by scholars, and even other former Soviet intelligence officials, that Perseus was never a real person, at least not his own person. Senior Soviet intelligence official, Pavel Sudoplatov, in his 1994 book Special Tasks claims to have not known of a spy codenamed Perseus, and that he believes that 'Perseus' may have been created by Yatskov and colleagues (including Chikov) in order to obfuscate the identities of real spies. Chikov himself admitted to this, saying "The main goal was to make the story unclear."
The Cohens, who were real people, were not informed by Chikov and company that they had become the centerpiece of this spy story. When interviewers would visit the couple throughout the 1990s to ask them questions about Perseus, the Cohen's handlers would redirect the question, blaming the couples ages, as they were in their 80s at the time, for their "forgetfulness."
The real spy that Perseus shares the most similarities with is Theodore Hall, the youngest physicist on the Manhattan Project at only eighteen years old. Hall's most used codename was 'Mlad,' however he had another, 'Young(ster)' due to his age. This contradicts Chikov's claim that Perseus had shortly gone by 'Youngster,' as having two spies, especially those working on the same project, who shared a codename could be disastrous.
If anyone would like to read more about the 'real' Perseus I highly recommend the book Bombshell : The Secret Story of America's Unknown Atomic Spy Conspiracy by Joseph Albright and Marcia Kunstel, in which there is an entire chapter about Perseus! This book was my most used resource and building base for this section of my thesis so I most definitely recommend it if you'd like to learn more about the Manhattan Project, specifically Theodore Hall.
If there is anymore questions, whether it be about Perseus, the Manhattan Project, or just what it was like to write an undergraduate history thesis I will try and answer to the best of my ability so don't be shy, I am very passionate about this subject!!!
Thank you @blue-healer (for proofreading both my full thesis and this post) and @flufshi and @ladysouthpaw1213 for your excited comments on my interest post! I hope you all enjoy and learned something :)
Hiya, this more of a au setting but if you wish. I have a request for a Scout Leader Adler with Daughter reader fic. I’m thinking family fluff camping or like that. Inspired by Ranger Gear and a post calling it a Boy Scout)and mentioning selling Cookies)? 🦊🧡
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MUCKY DUNGAREES
Parkranger!Dad!Russell Adler x F!Reader
[About]: You spend the morning with your clumsy daughter, and hardworking husband.
[Wc]: 871
[cw]: none!!
[Note]: very sorry for the long wait, and I still have two more thingies to write also but I will be getting to them, I've just been very busy irl !! This is only short, but I can definitely see this concept becoming a series of drabbles :D Thank you so much for your request !!
MASTERLIST - CHARACTER MASTERLIST
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"You tell 'em your daddy'll have 'em on a leash if they say anything to you," you say as you tugged at the collar of your daughters uniform.
It was a slight haphazard, your attempt, as the pants, which Adler had claimed were shorts, appeared to look much more like jorts on her little legs. A safety pin in from the first aid kit your husband kept in his car and a prayer were the only things keeping her pants from falling down.
Not to mention how sleeves of her khaki green shirt fell part her elbows, bunching up as she raised her hands in an effort to push your hands away from her face.
"Ah, ah," you said, shooing her hands away, brushing, now crusted, flakes of porridge from the corner of her mouth. "You got more food on you than in you."
To that, just like her father, a scowl formed on her little rosy cheeks. Her fighting persisted, once again, just like her father, and she exclaimed, "Mommy, I look silly!"
"Well you shoulda thought about that before fallin' in the mud, shouldn't ya, kiddo?" called out your husband.
His boots crunched against the dirt of the path, and he fixed the brown, cowboy-like hat on his head as he approached the pair of you.
The fuss she'd been making for the past five minutes had fallen on deaf ears, and you attempted to find humour in the fact that he'd only desired to rear his head when she was finally dressed. Your efforts of comedy were clearly lacklustre as you noticed how Adler's lips pursed when his eyes met with yours.
Of course, he was wearing his glasses - always; you were surprised he didn't sleep with the bastard things on - but you knew he was looking at you. You'd spent long enough with him, at the very least.
"Don't you have any smaller clothes for her, Addy?" you almost whined as you took a step back, standing beside him. His hand rested against your hip as the pair of your observed your daughter.
Had the fashion police been around, both of you would have been given life in prison, no chance of parole, for the sheer disgrace of the outfit your daughter was wearing.
There were flakes of drying mud on her knees from her tussle with a twig - in which the twig won, and she was left with a mouthful of dirt which quelled her sobbing tremendously well. The socks Adler had pulled out from the stash of spare clothes in the watchtower were practically tights on her.
The only thing that actually fit her were her boots, and they were caked in mud.
Adler sucked up a breath of air through pursed lips, free hand rubbing his mouth. You caught him doing so out of the corner of his eyes. He was fighting a bloody battle, trying to keep himself from laughing, and with each passing second, it seemed that the knife was slipping from his grasp.
"I look like a smelly boy!"
"Now, darling," chided your husband as he took a step towards her. The hat he'd just placed on his head was pulled off with a skilled hand as he settled it atop the head of your daughter. Planting his large hand over the top of it, he pushed it down. "Your daddy's helper for the day, and what doesn't a good ranger do?"
You watched the cogs turning in her head as she looked upwards, most likely trying to capture a glimpse of the blue sky. Only, the brim of the hat kept her from doing so, and so, she furrowed her brows and with fury asked, "Wear clothes that's too big for them?"
You barked out a laugh while the man pinched the bridge of his nose and turned away for a moment. "No," he said, clearing his throat. Crouching down in front of her, he brushed her hair from off her shoulder, "they make do with what they got. You don't think there haven't been times where daddy's needed somethin' but hasn't been able to get it?"
She opened her mouth to answer her, but Adler cut her off. "Don't you dare say clothes that fit you."
She closed her mouth in an instance.
"You look cute, kiddo," he said, raising from the ground with a huff. Holding his hand out to the side of him, he twitched his fingers. Your daughter understood immediately, little hand placed in his. Adler looked to you, "you sure you're gonna be alright here?"
"Of course," you said with a smile, arms crossed as you look at the pair of them. You disguised a laugh with a cough when the hat on your daughters head slipped down to cover her eyes. You hadn't noticed it at first, no, it had only been her whining that had you looking in her direction.
Adler plucked it from off her head, placing it back onto his own. "I'll be spending my morning trying to scrub the muck from her dungarees."
"I can't say I'm jealous," answered Adler, hand resting atop your daughters head, ruffling her hair, "c'mon kiddo, outghta head out before you have any more accidents, these cookies aren't gonna sell themselves."
