The power of suggestion

Lisa Rogak’s Propaganda Girls provides an engaging exploration of the untold story of the women in the Office of Strategic Services’ Morale Operations (MO) branch during World War II. This book details deception, ingenuity, and psychological manipulation—showing how intelligence operatives transformed rumors into weapons and used the power of suggestion to undermine enemy morale.

Focusing on Elizabeth “Betty” MacDonald, Barbara “Zuzka” Lauwers, Jane Smith-Hutton, and the Hollywood legend Marlene Dietrich, Rogak brings to life the unsung heroines who crafted black propaganda—false information designed to appear as though it came from within enemy ranks. These women weren’t just forging documents or broadcasting fake news; they were playing literal mind games, using human fears and anxieties as their battleground.

William “Wild Bill” Donovan, the head of the OSS, knew that traditional military tactics alone wouldn’t win the war. He saw the potential of psychological operations to weaken the enemy from the inside, famously stating: “Subtly planned rumor and propaganda [can] subvert people from allegiance to their own country. It is essentially a weapon of exploitation, and if successful can be more effective than a shooting war.”​

Unlike Allied propaganda, which encouraged patriotism, black propaganda had to feel authentic to the enemy. The OSS operatives, particularly the women of Morale Operations, excelled at creating plausible lies.

One of the most striking examples is Operation Sauerkraut, an audacious scheme designed to plant fake orders and demoralizing letters within German POW camps. Lauwers and her team forged letters from disillusioned German officers, hinting that Hitler’s war effort was collapsing and that high-ranking officials were defecting.

Zuzka Lauwers, who spearheaded some of these campaigns, quickly realized the potency of small rumors—how a single suggestive remark could spark a wildfire. German POWs often repeated the planted misinformation as if they had overheard it from fellow soldiers, allowing the deception to spread organically. Lauwers’ work turned whispers into weapons.

One of the most effective OSS operations was the League of Lonely War Women, an elaborate ruse that preyed on German soldiers’ biggest fears—abandonment and betrayal. The OSS distributed fake letters from German women, lamenting their loneliness and hinting at affairs with foreign men. Some of the propaganda suggested that Nazi officers were secretly ordering soldiers’ wives to take lovers to “boost morale” on the home front. The effect was twofold: Some soldiers clung to the hope that they would find comfort in the arms of a willing German woman, while others, overcome with paranoia, began to believe their own wives had betrayed them. Either way, the damage was done. The seeds had been planted—trust eroded and discipline wavered.

Among the most famous figures in Propaganda Girls is Marlene Dietrich, the German-born actress who risked everything to turn her sultry voice into a weapon against the Third Reich. She recorded radio broadcasts and songs for the OSS that played on enemy frequencies, subtly undermining the German war effort.

Dietrich was aware of how deeply her voice resonated with German soldiers. She recorded a special version of “Lili Marlene,” a song beloved by the Wehrmacht, but with lyrics that planted doubt and despair. The broadcasts aimed not only to undermine confidence in Hitler’s leadership but also to exploit the growing war fatigue among German forces.

In fact, MacDonald’s psychological warfare efforts extended beyond Europe to China, where the OSS sought to weaken Japanese morale. Her most significant contribution came in August 1945, when she helped craft a radio broadcast that a great destruction was about to befall Japan. The next morning, the United States dropped the first atomic bomb on Hiroshima.

When questioned about how she knew what was coming, MacDonald reportedly replied: “We just made it up. The weird truth about MO … is that if you make up incredible stories, sometimes they’ll turn out to be true.”​ This rather eerie anecdote underscores how psychological warfare often blurred the line between rumor and reality.

The greatest strength of Propaganda Girls is its storytelling. Rogak gives the reader a sense of who these women were—bold, witty, and deeply committed to their work. The book is rich with details, humor, and insight into the inner workings of the OSS.

There’s also a fascinating exploration of how gender influenced intelligence work. As the aforementioned MacDonald, a woman who seems to have had a sharp wit, noted: “We were able to think of a lot of gossipy things to do for MO that men never would have thought of. I don’t want to brag, but women can hurt people better, maybe, than men could think of.”​

While Propaganda Girls is a fascinating read, it occasionally glosses over the ethical complexities of psychological warfare. These women weren’t just creating clever tricks—they were actively deceiving soldiers, civilians, and even their own allies. A deeper exploration of the moral gray areas of intelligence work would have added more weight to the narrative.

Additionally, while Marlene Dietrich’s story is compelling, her role in MO was less extensive than that of MacDonald and Lauwers. At times, it feels like her inclusion is meant to add a recognizable name to the book, rather than because she was central to the operation.

Despite these minor critiques, Propaganda Girls is a recommended read for anyone interested in World War II, intelligence operations, or the influence of psychological warfare. In an age when misinformation and disinformation profoundly influence global conflicts, this book serves as a reminder of how strategic storytelling can change the course of history.