THE FATE OF SPIES.

Taranaki Daily News, 22 April 1919, Page 5

THE FATE OF SPIES.

SHOT BEHIND THE TOWER. BRAVE MEN AND COWARDS. Behind the ancient walls of the Tower of London, unseen by any there were staged at intervals during the past four years some of the grimmest dramas of the war. Near the spot where heads illustrious in history fell to the headsman's axe, the cunning agents of the Wilhelinstrasse met the fate they earned. After his court-martial the notorious Carl Lody, otherwise Inglis, an officer of the German Naval Reserve, was held prisoner in a room at Wellington Barracks. About ten days after the trial, a little while before his mid-day dinner, an officer entered to Lody and told him that he was to be shot within a few hours. When the sentence had been read to him his face turned deathly white, and he started to cry. But the tears did not last. He quickly fpulled himself together and ate his dinner. After dinner he was taken by motor car to the Tower. The car sped through the streets. Where the everyday humdrum J of London went on not a soul among the afternoon crowd could have conceived that the man in the car was a spy of the Kaiser, condemned to be shot. DIED LIKE A GENTLEMAN. Lody spent the hours of that last night before his death writing for the most part, but a chaplain kept him company for a time and gave him religious consolation. It was breakfast time—thousands of London housewives were at the moment busy with the bacon and eggs—when an officer arrived outside the spy's cell and called him forth to be shot.

Lody responded readily. First he drank a glass of brandy, and then, fully dressed, he walked to the cell door. As he was going out he shook 1.-nds with the clergyman. Then, turning the officer, he said: "I suppose you won't shake hands with a spy ?" "No," was the officer's reply, "but I will shake hands with a brave man," and the two clasped hands. The escort then surrounded the spy and he was marched about 100 yards to the miniature rifle range. It was just light, and the early morning air was cold, but Lody did not shiver. Before he died he said, "My judges were just. I had a fair trial." He then sat down in a chair. He was quite composed. He made no objection to being bandaged. His shirt was undone and his chest bared. He sat waiting a moment for the end, brave to the last. Eight rifles were fired and Lody died like a gentleman.

"DIDN'T CARE TWOPENCE." Now comes the story of the shooting of a South American, a Chilian. He was a big man, of middle age, with polished manners and well-groomed personality. He slept through the night before his execution, and when a priest came to him in the early morning he said "he didn't want any damned' priest." Afterwards, rather grudgingly, he entered into conversation with the minister of religion for about three minutes. The jreasosi, possibly, for his brusqueness was that he was hungry—and he did not refrain from saying so. The execution was, therefore, delayed while the officers' mess was ransacked for food. At length an orderly brought': a plateful of ham sandwiches, which the spy ate with gusto. His meal finished, he was marched to the place of execution. His whole demeanour is s'nmnied up in the words: "He didne't care twopence about his fate." And so he died.

A young Uruguayan who had held a good position on a ranch in Soutli America and who adopted the profession of spying—why it was never explained—also met his fate behind those grim walls. When the time arrived for his execution he walked to the chair smoking a cigarette. As he sat dpwn he flung it away, remarking in a* light tone: "Well, I supposed shan't have time to finish it." • A few seconds later tjie shot* of the Guardsmen, who had fought and suffered in France, ended his career. "TIPPERARY AND HYSTERIA." An undersized Jewish waiter from a Blackpool hotel had been tried and condemned for collecting information for the enemy. As he was marched to the firing party he sang snatches from popular songs—"Tipperary" was one of them. But once in the chair he broke down and bcame hysterical, shouting and tryin" to pull the bandage away from his eyes' He kicked and struggled so violently that it was found necessary to bind him securely to the chair with cords. Another man of Hebrew birth was condemned to death, and it was decided, in the light of the foregoing experience, that this prisoner should be executed by hanging. The sentence was duly carried out In, Wjttdiworth. ftp],