DANGEROUS PRACTICE

Waikato Times, Volume 127, Issue 21177, 29 July 1940, Page 10

DANGEROUS PRACTICE

SECRETS IN WARTIME INCIDENTS IN LAST WAR In time of war it should be remembered that spies work unobtrusively in whatever walk of life has been delegated to them and are indistinguishable from the ordinary citizen, writes Captain H. E. Wiltshire in the Johannesburg Star. It is not a case of the mysterious foreigner and the beautiful woman stealing the plans from the top drawer of the General’s desk, but—for the minor members of intelligence services at least—the comparatively simple job of collecting scraps of information garnered from conversation in buses, trains, hotels and dozens of other places where people have nothing better to do than talk. These titbits of information—which may have originally come from Charlie, who is in the Navy, or George, who is serving in an antiaircraft battery—may sound innocent enough. It is when they are collated at a central office that their real significance is revealed. Story of 1914 As an example—only one of hundreds—of what a few carelesslyspoken words may lead to, I shall quote an instance of 1914. During the early days of July the Belgian mail steamer Ville de Liege, was crossing from Dover to Ostend. In the little bar were a few people; some fortifying themselves against the gastronomical ravages of the sea. During that July the atmosphere was tense and prospects of war were being widely discussed everywhere. In a moment of uncontrolled arrogance one of the German passengers leaned over to the Belgian bartender. Pierre le Due. “ You Belgian, ja,” he said thickly. “ Soon I tell you. we take all Belgium from you and then I come back to stay at my hotel in Ostend with the General.” Most of the people in the bar dismissed the .statement as an idle boast, but Pierre le Due passed on this little piece of information when the ship arrived in Ostend. It did not take long to establish that the German patriot had been staying at the Majestic Hotel for a considerable time. Early in August war was declared, but that did not make any difference to the inquiries that were being made. The Majestic Hotel was in the centre of the Grand Esplanade and was one of the highest buildings on the sea front. Curiously enough, a section of the German General Staff did establish ! themselves there. It also came to light through a Belgian maitre- i d’hotel— that a certain section of the i basement was always kept under lock j and key, and that any attempt to i penetrate that section was alwavs 1 met with a terse refusal. A dome on the left-hand top corner was of peculiar construction. It , later proved to be an observation ; post, and was in direct communication with the Gothas returning from =' the raids on England, and also in communication with a »similar post ; at the entrance of the Bruges sea canal, where there was a submarine i depot. The Sequel I often wonder whether the Ger- j man officer ever realised that it was due to his boastful remark in the bar of the Ville de Liege that No. 7 j Naval Squadron went over Ostend I one night and practically blew the ; Majestic Hotel off the sea front. j The exodus of refugees has pro- j vided the German Secret Service with a heaven-sent opportunity of in- | creasing its army of agents in foreign countries. This was mentioned 1

again recently in the newspapers. Delivering messages or posting and delivering parcels and letters to oblige an affable stranger can quite easily recoil on the head of the unwary. One instance of this, which I saw i myself, occurred in Walvis Bay. A ! German ship carrying returning far--1 mers and farm apprentices arrived ■ there one morning before the war. i Walvis Bay was hot, and as the ship j was not sailing until the next day, ; a few of the British passengers decided to spend the night at Swakopmund. One of the Germans who was re- j ; turning from a refresher course in the German Army, approached a friend of mine. “ Excuse me,” he said, “ But are you going to Swakopmund? ” ” Yes,” was the reply, j “ Then perhaps you will do me a | little favour,” he continued. “I have | brought a present for a friend of | mine at the X Hotel. Would you ! be so kind as to give it to him?” Rebounded on the Floor j We went ashore and, being British ! passengers in transit, had no difficulty ; with the authorities. My friend sat | opposite to me in the railway carriage and threw the parcel on to the ! rack over my head. His aim was i not as good as it might have been, ' and the parcel struck the edge of the , rack and rebounded on to the floor, i One corner burst open, disclosing

some pamphlets and two envelopes. With a knowledge of German, it ' did not taken long to discover that 1 it was the type of present which would have taken a lot of explaining had it been found in his possession. What its ultimate destination was I do not know—but it certainly did not reach Swakopmund. If you do by accident come across some unusual little piece of information, suppress the vanity that tempts nearly all of us sometimes to pose as the possessors of “ inside information ” and don’t repeat it. Even apparently harmless rumours may suggest to spies some profitable line of inquiry.