Читать книгу Secrets of German Espionage - Bernard Newman - Страница 6

I doubt if there is any subject more delicate of discussion than espionage. In Britain, quite correctly, the Official Secrets Act looms on the horizon, forbidding revelations which would really deserve the overworked adjective “sensational.” Even thirty-year-old secrets may not always be revealed—because the method employed may be capable of use again. Naturally, I propose to observe not merely the letter but the spirit of regulations governing the discussion of espionage.

Such reserve, I must admit, spoils some of the best stories I could tell. In the war of 1914-18, for example, it will be recalled that the German General, Lettow-Vorbeck made a gallant fight in German East Africa. In 1916 he was short of many military supplies, and the Germans decided to send a Zeppelin with some of the things needed—scientific instruments and other non-bulky goods. The first attempt was a failure, as the Zeppelin ran into bad weather early on its journey. On the second occasion it crossed the European danger zone, was over the Mediterranean and well on its way to German East Africa. Suddenly it received wireless orders to return. The Captain, within a few hundred miles of his destination, queried the orders, which were promptly repeated. Of course, he turned back—for all he knew General Lettow-Vorbeck had now been forced to surrender. But when he arrived at his base at Friedrichshafen a pretty comedy was played.

“Well, did you deliver the goods?” asked the Base Commandant.

“No, you recalled me.”

“What are you talking about? You weren’t recalled!”

“I was!”

So the debate went on, for a few moments reminiscent of stage cross talk. But the Base Commandant and the Zeppelin officer were both correct. The Zeppelin had been recalled—but the orders were not sent out by the Germans!

Here, the reader will perceive, is the outline of a story not lacking in potential thrills and interest: but if I could reveal how that Zeppelin was recalled, I could guarantee that the reader would grip the sides of his chair in his excitement.

I make no grumble whatsoever at the legal restrictions surrounding the subject of espionage. It is too easy by a chance phrase to give useful information to an enemy or a potential enemy. No one can calculate the possible effect of the most innocent revelation, however trifling. Many of my readers will recall that thirty years ago Lord Baden-Powell wrote a little book called My Adventures as a Spy—for in his younger days the Chief Scout did valuable work as a British Intelligence Officer. These, indeed, were the days when spying might have been a gentleman’s job. In this book he revealed some of the ingenious devices he had adopted to conceal information he had collected, and the dodges he employed to escape arrest. On one occasion, he related, he was arrested on suspicion by an unimaginative village policeman in a continental country. The policeman did not know how to deal with the case, but informed Baden-Powell that he would be held until his officer arrived.

“You don’t mind if I smoke, while I’m waiting?” asked the British officer.

“No, of course not,” said the policeman.

So Baden-Powell produced his pouch and cigarette paper and rolled himself a cigarette; then another. When he had finished smoking them, he sat back in great content, not caring whether all the officers in Europe came to interrogate him. He had been a spy; he had collected information—and he had made his notes on two pieces of cigarette paper! Thus, under the very nose of the policeman who arrested him, he had smoked away the only possible evidence against him!

Now this little book, written by the Chief Scout, was naturally translated into most of the languages of Europe. Its implications ought to have been obvious. They meant that if a man were arrested on suspicion of being a spy and asked permission to smoke, the most unimaginative policeman would immediately seize the cigarette he produced. More than one spy has gone to his death because he disregarded the second commandment of the spy law. The first commandment reads: “Thou shalt not be found out”; the second, “Thou shalt not use a method which has been found out.” As we shall see, German conservatism has rendered more than one counter-espionage officer’s task easier than it ought to have been.