Читать книгу Secrets of German Espionage - Bernard Newman - Страница 23

I have referred to the sensational type of spy school, where the pupils were kept isolated from each other, and even wore masks when in class. This type of school did actually exist. There was a famous establishment operating in the rue de la Pepinière in Antwerp during the last two years of the World War. The arrangements there were reminiscent of the most fantastic thriller. The house had several entrances, and recruits would be conducted to the back door—they had been met at the station by espionage agents, were hurried off in a closed car, and were pulled out of the car almost before it had stopped outside its destination.

Hurried along the substantial corridors of the old house, the recruit would find himself in a comfortable bedroom—locked in. The windows on the street side were shuttered and barred, and he could only leave his room under the supervision of one of the staff. From the first moment he had to wear a black mask whenever he was out of his own bedroom: it was one of the obsessions of the German agent running the school that a foreign spy might effect an entrance and be able subsequently to denounce all its pupils.

The recruit lost his name from the moment he entered the school: instead he took a code designation—a letter and a number. All his meals were served in his room. In addition to his classes, he was given long spells of individual tuition. A friend of mine who inspected this remarkable school, soon after the recapture of Antwerp in 1918, told me that its equipment was really remarkable, particularly in its range of ships’ models. Its library was extensive, including a number of illustrated books showing the uniforms, ranks and decorations of all foreign armies. The laboratory, too, was well equipped, and it was obvious that the study of chemical inks had been well developed.

In fact, judged by its curriculum, the Antwerp school was highly efficient. Yet the final appraisement of a school can only be by its results, and in this respect it is unquestionable, the fantastic school was an almost complete failure.

Espionage experts, including those of Germany, claim that the monastic-cell method is utterly unsuited to the training of spies. It lowers the pupil’s morale, induces introspective ideas, and weakens confidence by the absence of association with the outside world. The French method is probably better: in France the prospective spy at school is carefully watched by counter-spies, who observe his habits and the strength or weakness of his character. This system has a double value—unsuitable recruits can be discarded at an early stage, and full advantage can be taken of the idiosyncrasies of the rest.