British Secret Service During the Great War Part 2

Was the Government to blame for this? It had expressed blind faith in Germany and the peaceful sentiments she was alleged to have expressed.

Had not Lord Haldane hobn.o.bbed with the Kaiser, and had he not related to Parliament what a good fellow the German Emperor really was, and how friendly he meant to be to England? Labour members of Parliament had been to Germany, where they also had been hoodwinked and deceived. Had not the Cabinet argued so strenuously that a European war was unthinkable and impossible for the next century at least, until it seemed to believe it was actually true? _Hence no preparations for such a disastrous calamity had been antic.i.p.ated, thought out, or provided for._

"The Day" had dawned.

War with Germany had been declared. Every Britisher, worthy of the name, was individually asking himself, in his heart of hearts or in public, how he best could be of service to his country, to the Empire, and to his King.

In the days to come, when children and children's children will seek by interrogation enlightenment from their forebears as to the part or parts they respectively took in the greatest war the world has ever known, what terrible shame and misgivings will a.s.sail the craven, palsied soul of the s.h.i.+rker!

To England's everlasting glory such have been very, very few, and very far between.

I apologise for the necessity of having to introduce myself, because, as the author, I must also figure prominently in these pages. I am a Bohemian by nature, a Sportsman by instinct, and a Lawyer by training.

Hail, fellow, well met! I believe in the old Scotch proverb, "Better a fremit freend than a freend fremit."

Acquaintances and correspondents I have endeavoured to cultivate in every country I have been in, whilst as a traveller, an author, and a sportsman I believe I am widely known.

At the same time I must confess to being a man of moods, and like most other light-hearted, happy-go-lucky individuals, who seem to be bubbling over with an exuberance of animal spirits, there are times when depression holds down my soul in a h.e.l.l of its own making. That I never understood myself may explain why so few really ever properly understand me. I am said to be resourceful, ingenious, and so optimistic that I extricate myself from difficulties under which many other people might have capitulated as too overwhelmingly crus.h.i.+ng to attempt to resist. My great trouble has been that my restless, rolling-stone disposition makes it intensely distasteful and difficult for me to anchor down for any length of time in any one particular place. Ever and anon there comes to me a call from the wild, a mysterious and irresistible whisper which a true son of nature cannot hope to fight against; an imperative summons from the vastnesses of unknown seas, from deep and pathless forests, from the virgin snows of mountain peaks. Wanderl.u.s.t has saturated my system, yea, to the very marrow in my bones. It has lured me on, and in obedience to periodical promptings I have travelled the world around and experienced adventure, sport, and fighting in many a foreign land.

Early in 1913-14 I volunteered in the threatened Irish upheavals, with countless thousands of others of my countrymen who felt so strongly the injustice of that matter. When a better and more meritorious chance of "sc.r.a.pping" presented itself, I was one of the first to offer my services, which were promptly declined, solely because I was over the age limit. Not satisfied with one effort, I made others in various quarters and in various capacities, but all in vain.

It was no consolation to learn later that someone else, an expert engineer, had travelled 7,000 miles, from Hyderabad in India,[1] to help in munition-making, only to be refused a job on arrival in this country; nor that a Tasmanian,[2] with seventeen years' service in the Department of Agriculture in Tasmania, carrying the highest credentials and having obtained six months' leave in order to travel 13,000 miles to the Mother Country to volunteer his gratuitous expert services to our Board of Agriculture, had likewise b.u.t.ted his head against vain hopes of helping to forward encouragement of more home-growing food for the nation.

In the early stages there was a vast army of rejected would-be helpers turned down ignominiously and left to kick their heels in fretful idleness. What a wicked waste of time and good material!

I begin to believe that my American a.s.sociations have made me a bit of a hustler. Anyway, I approached the celebrated s.h.i.+kar of many trails, the famed big game hunter, the late Mr. F. C. Selous.[3] I wrote to him suggesting that a corps of Big Game Hunters should be mustered, to consist only of men who had had at least three years' experience of that exciting and dangerous sport; that each man should provide and personally pay for the whole of his individual equipment, including horse, rifle, uniform, and appendages; that Mr. Selous should take command and then offer the services of the corps to the War Office.

Mr. Selous grasped the idea and agreed that a body of quite 500 could probably be raised. He communicated his willingness to take the whole work of raising the troop, but the War Office was neither encouraging to the proposal, nor willing to accept the services of such a body of men when ready to serve. Sorrowful was the tone of the letter from Mr.

Selous conveying this news to me, its very much disappointed recipient.

He added in the P.S. that he had a friend in command of an infantry regiment who expected soon to be ordered to France, and he had extracted a promise from him to take him along in some capacity or another, in spite of the fact that he was over sixty years of age; and he advised me to look out for a similar loophole through which I might hope to crawl into the catacombs of Ypres and the Meuse, with or without the knowledge or sanction of the Red Tape artists at Whitehall.

About this period many amateur spy hunters were actively on the war-path, and it was suggested to me by friends of high standing in the sporting world that my connection with Northern Europe and my varied experience at home and abroad might be acceptable to the Secret Service; furthermore it was pretty plainly hinted to me that if I wrote a personal letter to Sir Edward Grey it would not be ignored.

Not a moment was allowed to elapse after this. On October 16th, 1914, I wrote, setting out my believed qualifications in concise terms, adding that my age had unfortunately precluded my eagerly proffered services from acceptance in other spheres; that I was keen and eager to be of service to my country; and that I was eating my heart out through inactivity. If there was a chance of my being any use, I prayed that my services might be commanded.

I had been cautioned with impressive seriousness that if my services were accepted it might be only for enrolment in the "Forlorn Hope Brigade" and that my chances of survival might be very remote indeed.

Rather than damping my ardour, this warning merely added fuel to the flames of my desires. In early life I had been most bitterly disappointed. A somewhat sensitive nature had received a shock from which it never properly recovered. With the fatuity of early youth I had placed a whole family upon an idealistic pedestal--including a mere child of thirteen years of age. When that theoristic fabric fell, shattered to a million invisible fragments, at my feet, I could not understand, but I felt for years afterwards that life for me held nothing of worth.

Time heals wounds, and I survived in bodily health. In 1912 I lost a man's best friend on earth--my mother. At Christmas, 1913, my father, my dearest pal, followed her to the grave. I was unmarried. My brother and my sisters had homes of their own, far away. What mattered it to anyone, least of all to myself, if I crossed the Great Divide before my allotted time? I was at best a mere worthless atom of humanity dependent upon no one, with no one dependent upon me.

Here at least was a chance of doing something worth the while. 'Twas a far, far better thing to do than I had ever done.

Yea, indeed. I was ready, and willing, and eager, for the service, whatsoever that service might be, and withersoever it might take me, even to the jaws of death itself.

Having regard to all the circ.u.mstances, I do not believe I shall be accused of presumptuousness or of egotism if I say that I fully believed myself to be a fit and qualified person for the service for which I then had volunteered.

On October 17th, 1914, I received a letter from the Under Permanent Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs (Sir Arthur Nicholson--now Lord Carnock), acknowledging my letter of the previous day's date and saying Sir Edward Grey appreciated my offer, although he regretted there were no such appointments at the disposal of his department; but he added that my name had been noted in case my services might be utilised in any capacity at some further date.

On October 19th, I received a letter on War Office paper referring to my letter to Sir Edward Grey of the 16th, saying: "I should be very glad if you would arrange to come and see me here one morning. If you will let me know when I may expect you I shall arrange to be free." This letter was signed "P. W. Kenny, Captain"[4] and on its left-hand top corner specified a certain room number. I subsequently ascertained that this gentleman (and a real gentleman in every sense of that embracive word I found him) was the "Acting Buffer" between the Secret Service departments for both the War Office and the Admiralty to anyone who might attempt to approach either of these departments. It will be remembered that his name figured in the public Press as acting in that capacity when Admiral W. R. Hall, C.B., brilliantly defeated and frustrated the clever schemes so carefully yet vainly laid by the then notorious ex.-M.P. Trebitsch Lincoln, whose apparent intention and purpose was to work the double cross against the British Empire.

I promptly answered this communication by a special journey to London, of which I gave due notice as requested.

After pa.s.sing the Police Guards at the entrance to the War Office, I traversed a long corridor to the inquiry room, where a number of attendants were busily engaged issuing forms to be filled up by applicants for interviews. Of course it was impossible to escape the inevitable form, on which I inserted the name of Captain P. W. Kenny, his room number, my name, address, and the nature of my business--private and confidential. It was a bit of a staggerer to hear from the attendant that he did not know Captain Kenny, nor of him, nor did he believe there was any officer of that name in the building.

Inquiries, however, from others of his cla.s.s elicited the information that someone had heard a name somewhat like it and if I went up to the floor on which the room was numbered as before-mentioned, and applied to the porter or commissionaire at the lodge up there, he might be able to locate him for me.

After a wait of some minutes in an ante-room where were collecting a large number of officers and others on errands of various natures, I was sent away in charge of a boy-scout, with about ten other form-fillers, whom he dropped at various floor lodges on the way. The system was for each boy-scout to conduct a whole bunch of followers, who carried their forms in their hands until the desired floors were reached, when the boy-scout guide handed one or more of his followers to the commissionaire in charge of the lodge on each floor sought, who in turn sent them off again in charge of another attendant to the desired room.

I was the last one to depart from our diminutive guide. But when I got to the lodge on the floor on which the room I was seeking was numbered, the commissionaire in charge said he knew nothing of the officer named on my form. After arguing the matter discreetly with him I persuaded him to take me to the room specified on my form, which we found unoccupied, although there were a table and chairs there, as I saw them through the half-open door.

As the bona fides of my quest seemed to be doubted I produced the letter I had received, when he politely escorted me to two other lodges on the other floors; but only one of the men in charge could help me at all, and in that he was very vague. He believed there had been an officer, whose name he did not know, using the room so numbered or another room a day or so ago, and he was not certain which it was; he had since changed his room, but where he could not say. Anyway, as he expressed himself, he was a mysterious kind of person, and what he did, or what functions he performed, no one seemed to know. I must confess I was at a loss to understand the position. Suddenly, however, the thought struck me that it might be a possible stunt to test one's capabilities for a research or investigation; so I listened with interest to the conversations of the various commissionaires and gleaned that the gentleman I sought, if such an individual had any business in the War Office at all, was tall, thin, and aristocratic. The one man who described him thought he knew whom I meant--"A horficer as spent his time a-dodging back'ards and forrards betwixt the War Hoffice and the Hadmiralty, who never said nothink to n.o.body, so one didn't know which he did belong to; one who 'ardly ever was in 'is room and one who 'ad some queer blokes come to see 'im."

I thanked the commissionaires politely and said I would try another floor on my own account, as once inside the building with a form in one's hand it seemed one could wander anywhere at will and without question.

Accordingly I at once made up my mind what to do. I went to the floor below, to the lodge there, and I asked for Lord Kitchener. There was no hesitation in answering that inquiry; within a few minutes I had reached the desired portion of the building, where I asked to see his Lords.h.i.+p's princ.i.p.al secretary. I have forgotten his name, but I was not kept waiting for a moment. I was accorded an opportunity to explain my mission. I showed him the letter I had summoning me to the War Office, and told him the difficulties I had met with in attempting to locate the elusive "Go-Between." This officer received me very graciously; he smiled at the short description I gave him of my wanderings, and said: "I think I can put you on the right track straight away; please follow me," and getting up he took me to another room at the far end of the corridor we were then in, where we interviewed another officer who also laughed and told us that Captain Kenny had just changed his room and would now be found in room number ---- which was on the floor above.

Having thanked these officers for their kindly services I ascended once more, and within ten minutes from abandoning my false scent I ran my quarry to earth and was tapping on his oak.

I explained the difficulty I had been placed in to Captain Kenny, who expressed some surprise. Whether he really felt it or not I do not know, but when I showed him the room number given at the top of his letter he admitted the recent change and made apologetic amends for the inadvertence, adding that the attendants in charge of the inquiry bureau below should certainly have known both his name and room number.

_Quien sabe_, thought I to myself. Anyway, I held my peace and we proceeded to business.

For about an hour Captain Kenny questioned me regarding my knowledge of Northern lat.i.tudes, their peoples and my linguistic capabilities. Then he suggested in the most charming and persuasive manner that I should remain awhile in London, like Wilkins Micawber of old, "in the hope of something turning up."

I did so. During this period I called at the War Office at various appointed times and on each occasion was put to further interrogation.

Captain Kenny rather reminded me of Dr. Leyds. He seemed to possess that same pleasing persuasiveness which made one feel that one was under deep obligation to him personally for being permitted to relieve him of the smallest matter in hand--indeed, a valuable a.s.set to the person possessing such skill. Within a week of my advent in London a letter came to me from Captain Kenny in which he wrote: "For the moment there are no vacancies in the Intelligence Service, but if you will exercise a little patience I really believe I shall be able to do something for you. I shall see that your name and special qualifications are kept well in view and I trust that we shall be able to make use of your exceptional abilities."

This was followed about the day after by another short note from his private address, asking me to call at the war office next day, adding: "The delay arose through a temporary interruption of certain foreign communications, but he was almost sure he would be able to do something."

I lost no time in answering this letter in person and within half an hour I was fixed for the Foreign Secret Service under the Admiralty in the north of Europe. My remuneration, I was informed, would be rated on the scale appertaining to a naval captain in full commission; in addition to which I should be allowed 1 per day to cover my personal expenses, with a further allowance up to 1 per day to cover travelling expenses; but if I exceeded this amount I must bear the extra payments myself. I was delighted beyond measure: I would gladly have accepted any offer, on almost any terms, I was so keen to "do my bit" to help my country in whatever capacity I could be thought of any use. I subsequently found, however, that these allowances by no means covered one's travelling expenses abroad at that time, which daily mounted higher and higher until they a.s.sumed alarming dimensions. True it is, there were times, when one was obscuring oneself from too observant and inquiring persons, that one's expenses could be kept well below these amounts, but at other times, when speed in travelling was of vital importance, expenditure had to be a secondary consideration, and the average daily balances vanished beyond recognition.

At this, last but one, interview with Captain Kenny he produced a large map of Northern Germany and the Baltic. Pointing with his finger to various parts of it he kept asking me whether I could and would go to the places indicated, which included the outskirts of Kiel harbour.

So in order to free his mind from any doubts he may have had as to my venturesomeness, I clinched matters by saying "If you a.s.sure me it will in any way benefit my country, I am ready and prepared to go to h.e.l.l itself. So why waste breath on these pleasure resorts?"

"Ah!" replied this most exceedingly polite interviewer. "That, my dear sir, is the very answer I have been told, by a certain sporting n.o.bleman who recommended you, I should receive if I pressed you on this.

From what he said, and from what I have ascertained about you, I can quite believe it. How long do you require to put your affairs in order?"

"I am ready to start at once," was the reply. I had come to London prepared for such an emergency.

"Good! On Monday at 11 a.m. call upon me again. I shall give you a sealed despatch to deliver at a time and place to be named, and enough money to enable you to reach a certain town. There you will meet a certain gentleman who will give you further instructions. You can now apply for a pa.s.sport, and I wish you every luck."

"Excuse me, sir. But you do not give me any idea of what my duties will consist--to whom I am to report, or how? I really don't quite follow you; unless, of course, the despatch contains more enlightenment."

"Naturally the despatch will give full instructions to the gentleman you are to meet. He will seek you under the name of Mr. Jim. You will reply by mentioning two other names or words which you must now commit to memory, but not to paper. So far as your duties are concerned, _you have the fullest discretion; remember to use discretion_. You will work entirely on your own initiative. Henceforth you will be known to the Service as 'Jim.' And in saying good-bye, I may as well add, if you have not already done so, it might be advisable to seriously consider such testamentary dispositions as you are minded to complete."

FOOTNOTES:

[1] _John Bull,_ January 29th, 1916.