A Lost CIA Nuclear Device Still Haunts The Himalayas, 60 Years After A Cold War Mission | World News

New Delhi: In the fall of 1965, as the Cold War tightened its grip on the world, a small group of American and Indian climbers set out on a mission that few knew about and even fewer would accept. Their destination was Nanda Devi, one of India’s most challenging Himalayan peaks. Their loads were far more dangerous than ropes, tents, or food supplies. Hidden inside the metal case was a plutonium-powered generator designed to spy on China.

China’s recent atomic bomb test was ringing alarm bells in Washington. The Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) wanted eyes and ears deep into Chinese territory, focusing on missile tests. The solution was daring and reckless at the same time; placing a nuclear-powered surveillance antenna high in the Himalayas, where geography itself would do the spying.

The climbers were carrying an antenna, cables and a 13-kilogram generator known as SNAP-19C. It contained almost a third of the amount of plutonium used in the Nagasaki bomb. The mission was disguised as science, officially presented as research. In reality, this was intelligence gathering at an extreme level.

While the team was preparing for the final climb, nature intervened. A fierce snowstorm arrived and engulfed the mountain in white chaos. Captain MS Kohli, the Indian officer leading the expedition, sensed disaster approaching from the advanced base camp below. He reached for the radio.

“Camp Four, this is the Forward Base. Can you hear me?… Get back quickly… don’t waste a minute.”

Then came the instruction that determined the fate of the mission.

“Secure the equipment. Don’t drop it.”

The climbers hid the generator and antenna on an icy ledge near Camp Four and ran downhill for their lives. What they left behind was a nuclear device located in one of the most fragile mountain ecosystems on Earth. He was never seen again.

Officially nothing had happened. The US never acknowledged the operation.

The mission had its origins in an unexpected environment. U.S. Air Force Commander General Curtis LeMay found himself listening to National Geographic photographer and experienced Everest climber Barry Bishop at a cocktail party. Bishop talked about the Himalayan peaks that offer clear views deep into Tibet and all the way to the Chinese border. The idea was adopted almost immediately.

Shortly thereafter, the CIA asked Bishop to organize a secret expedition under the guise of scientific work. He is tasked with recruiting climbers, creating a believable cover story, and keeping the true purpose secret.

Bishop accepted and put together the Sikkim Scientific Expedition. Among those hired was Jim McCarthy, a young American climber and lawyer who was paid $1,000 a month for what the agency described as a vital national security mission.

India also participated. Memories of the 1962 war with China were still fresh and fear was driving decision-making. However, skipper Kohli remained skeptical. “That was nonsense,” he said later.

When the CIA initially suggested placing the device on Kanchenjunga, the world’s third-highest peak, Kohli did not hold back. “I told them the guy advising the CIA was a stupid man.”

McCarthy shared this disbelief. “I looked at the Kanchenjunga plan and said, ‘Are you out of your mind?’ I asked.”

In the end, Nanda Devi became the chosen site.

The climb began in September 1965. Helicopters took climbers to high altitudes without proper acclimatization. Many fell ill as their bodies tried to adjust. The heat-emitting plutonium generator has become a strange source of comfort. According to Kohli, the Sherpas argued over who would carry it because it kept them warm.

“At the time,” he said, “we had no idea of ​​the danger.”

Survival uncertainty arose near the summit on October 16. The storm hit with all its might.

“99 percent of us were dead. Our stomachs were empty, we had no water, we had no food, and we were completely exhausted,” recalled Sonam Wangyal, an Indian climber.

When Kohli ordered the equipment abandoned, McCarthy reacted angrily: “You should turn that generator off, you’re making a huge mistake.”

The order stood.

The following year, the team returned, hoping to retrieve the device. What they found was nothingness. The ledge was gone. Ice, rocks and equipment were destroyed by the avalanche.

Kohli recalled CIA officers saying, “Oh my God, this is going to be very, very serious. These are plutonium capsules.”

Search missions followed. Radiation detectors scanned the hillsides. Infrared sensors scanned the ice. Nothing appeared.

“This damn thing was so hot. It would melt the ice around it and keep sinking,” McCarthy said.

The mission failed, and the secret remained hidden until 1978, when a young reporter named Howard Kohn broke the story in Outside magazine.

Public reaction increased. Protesters in India held banners reading “CIA is poisoning our waters.”

Behind closed doors, damage control proceeded rapidly. U.S. President Jimmy Carter and Indian Prime Minister Morarji Desai worked to contain the fallout. In a private letter, Carter praised Desai for addressing the “Himalayan device issue”, calling it an “unfortunate issue”. Publicly, both governments have remained largely silent.

Decades later, climbers are either old or dead. Jim McCarthy, now in his 90s, still shakes with rage.

“You can’t leave plutonium near a glacier that feeds into the Ganges. Do you know how many people depend on the Ganges?” he shouted.

Captain Kohli thought sadly before dying.

“I wouldn’t have done the mission the same way. The CIA kept us out of the loop. Their plans were stupid, their actions were stupid, the people advising them were stupid. And we had fallen into that trap.”

He paused and added: “This is a sad chapter of my life.”