My adventures as a German secret agent

As I write these last few pages three clippings from recent newspapers lie before me on my desk. One of them tells of the new era of good feeling that exists between the governments of Mexico and the United States, and speaks of the alliance of Latin-American republics against German autocracy.

Another tells how the first contingent of American troops have landed in France, after a successful battle with a submarine fleet. And a third speaks of the victorious advance of the troops of Democratic Russia, after the world had begun to believe that Russia had forgotten the war in her new freedom.

I read them over again and I think that each one of these clippings, if true, writes “failure” once again upon the book of German diplomacy.

I remember a day not so very many months ago, when a man with whom I had some business in—for me—less quiet days, came to see me.

“B. E. is in town,” he said quietly. “He says he must see you. Can you meet him at the —— Restaurant to-night?”

Boy-Ed! I was not surprised that he should be in this country, for I knew the man’s audacity. But what could he want of me? Well, it would do no harm to meet him, I thought, and, anyway, my curiosity was aroused.

I nodded.

“I’ll be there,” I said. “At what hour?”

“Six-thirty,” my friend replied. “It’s only for a minute. He is leaving to-night.”

That evening for the first time in two years I saw the man who had done his share in the undermining of America. I did not ask him what his presence in this country meant, and needless to say, he did not inform me.

Our business was of a different character. I had just arranged to write a series of newspaper articles exposing the operations of the Kaiser’s secret service and Boy-Ed tried to induce me to suppress them.

“I cannot do it,” I told him.

But the captain showed a remarkable knowledge of my private affairs.

“Under your contract,” he said, “the articles cannot be published until you have endorsed them. As you have not yet affixed your signature to them, you can suppress them by merely withholding your endorsement.”

This I declined to do and our conversation ended.

Shortly afterward, Boy-Ed returned to Germany on the U-53. He did not attempt to see me again, but three times within the following weeks, attempts were made upon my life. Later, pressure was brought to bear from sources close to the German Embassy, but they failed to secure the suppression of the articles.

But my curiosity was aroused as to the meaning of Boy-Ed’s presence here and I set to work to discover the purpose of it. This was not difficult, for although I have ceased to be a secret agent, I am still in touch with many who formerly gave me information, and I know ways of discovering many things I wish to learn.

Soon I had the full story of Boy-Ed’s latest activities in this country.

He had, I learned, gone first to Mexico in an attempt to pave the way for that last essay at a Mexican-Japanese alliance, which the discovery of the famous Zimmermann note later made public. Whether he had succeeded or no, I did not discover at the time. But what was more important, I did learn that while he was in Mexico, Boy-Ed had selected and established several submarine bases for Germany! His plans had also carried him to San Francisco, to which he had gone disguised only by a mustache. There he had identified several men who were needed by the counsel of the defense of the German Consul Bopp, who had been arrested on a charge of conspiracy and for fomenting sedition within the United States.

From the Pacific Coast Boy-Ed had gone to Kansas City and had bought off a witness who had intended to testify for the United States in the trial of certain German agents. Thence, after a private errand of his own, he had made his way to New York, en route to Newport and Germany.

It may be well here to comment upon one feature of the Zimmermann note which has generally escaped attention. It was through no blunder of the German Government that that document came into possession of the United States, as I happen to know. I have pointed out before that diplomatic negotiations are carried through in the following manner. The preliminary negotiations are conducted by men of unofficial standing and it is not until the attitude of the various governments involved is thoroughly understood by each of them that final negotiations are drawn up. Now, although no negotiations had taken place between Germany, Japan and Mexico, the form of the Zimmermann note would seem to indicate that there was a thorough understanding between these countries. They were drawn up in this form with a purpose. Germany wished the United States to conclude that Mexico and Japan were hostile to her; Germany hoped that this country would be outwardly silent about the Zimmermann note but would take some diplomatic action against Mexico and Japan which would inevitably draw these two countries into an anti-American alliance.

Did President Wilson perceive this thoroughly Teutonic plot? I cannot say; but at any rate upon February 28, he astounded America by revealing once again Germany’s evil intentions toward the United States, and by so doing not only defeated the German Government’s particular plan but effectively cemented public opinion in this country, bringing it to a unanimous support of the government in the crisis which was slowly driving it toward war.

That marked the last stand of German intrigue, as it was conducted before the war. Now there is a new danger—a danger whose concrete illustration lies before me in the account of that first engagement between United States warships and German submarines.

The people of the United States, just entered into active participation in the war, are faced with a new peril—the betrayal of military and naval secrets to representatives of the German Government working in this country. Not only was it known to Germany that American troops had been sent to France, but the very course that the transports were to take had been communicated to Berlin. It is probable that other news of equal value has been or is being sent to Germany at the present time; and the United States is confronted with the possibility of submarine attacks upon its troop ships, as well as other dangers which, if not properly combated, may result in serious losses and greatly hamper it in its conduct of the war.

What exactly is this spy peril which this country now faces and which constitutes a far greater, because less easily combated danger than actual warfare?

How can it be got rid of?

These are the questions which the American people and the American Government are asking themselves and must ask themselves if they are to bear an effective share in the war in which they are now engaged.

Because of my former connection with the German Government and my work as a secret agent both in Europe and America, in the former of which I was brought into intimate contact with the workings of the secret service in other countries, I am prepared to give a reliable account of the general structure and workings of the German spy system in the United States as it is to-day.

It is important to remember that the secret diplomatic service, as it was conducted in this country before the war, and with which I was connected, is entirely different both in its personnel and methods with the spy system which is in operation to-day. A little further on I shall point out why this is so and why it must be so.

Before the entry of the United States into the war, the principal activities of the German Government’s agents were confined to the fomenting of strikes in munitions plants and other war activities, the organizing of plots to blow up ships, canals, or bridges—anything which would hamper the transportation of supplies to the Allies—and the inciting of sedition by stirring up trouble between German-Americans and Americans of other descent. All of these acts were committed in order to prevent you from aiding in any way the enemies of Germany; and also, by creating disorder in this country in peace times to furnish you with an object lesson of what could be done in war times.

These things were planned, overseen and executed by Germans and by other enemies of the Allies, under the leadership of men like von Papen, who were accredited agents of the German Government and who were protected by diplomatic immunity.

Now that war has come an entirely new task is before the German Government and an entirely new set of people are needed to do it. Wartime spying is absolutely different from the work which was done before the war, and the two have no connection with each other—except as the work done before the war has prepared the way for the work which is being done now.

And whereas the work done before the war was conducted by Germans, the present work, for very obvious reasons, cannot be done by any one who is a German or who is likely to be suspected of German affiliations.

I venture to say that not one per cent. of the persons who are engaged in spying for the German Government at the present time are either of German birth or descent.

I say this, not because I know how the German secret service is being conducted in this country, but because I know how it has been conducted in other countries.

Let me explain. It is obvious that such activities as the inciting to strikes, and the conspiring which were done in the last three years could be safely conducted by Germans, because the two countries were at peace. The moment that war was declared, every German became an object of suspicion, and his usefulness in spying—that is, the obtaining of military, naval, political and diplomatic secrets—was ended immediately. For that reason Germany and every other government which has spies in the enemy country make a practice during war of employing practically no known citizens of its own country.

At the present time more than ninety per cent. of the German spies in England are Englishmen. The rest are Russians, Dutchmen, Roumanians—what you will—anything but Germans.

One of the former heads of the French secret service in this country was a man who called himself Guillaume. His real name is Wilhelm and he was born in Berlin!

For that reason to arrest such men as Carl Heynen or Professor Hanneck is merely a precautionary measure. Whatever connection these men may have had with the German Government formerly, their work is now done, and their detention does not hinder the workings of the real spy system one iota.

HOW THE SPY SYSTEM WORKS.

It is difficult to distinguish between the work done in neutral countries by the secret diplomatic agent—the man who is engaged in fomenting disorders, such as I have described—and the spy, who is seeking military information which may be of future use. The two work together in that the secret agent reports to Berlin the names of inhabitants of the country concerned, who may be of use in securing information of military or naval value. It is well to remember, however, that the real spy always works alone. His connection with the government is known only to a very few officials, and is rarely or never suspected by the people who assist him in securing information. Here permit me to make a distinction between two classes of spies: the agents or directors of espionage, who know what they are doing; and the others, the small fry, who secure bits of information here and there and pass it on to their employers, the agents, often without realizing the real purpose of their actions.

In the building of the spy system in America, Germans and German-Americans have been used. Business houses, such as banks and insurance companies, which have unusual opportunities of obtaining information about their clients—most of whom, in the case of German institutions in this country, are of German birth or descent—have been of service in bringing the directors of spy work into touch with people who will do the actual spying.

The German secret service makes a point of having in its possession lists of people who are in a position to find out facts of greater or less importance about government officials. Housemaids, small tradesmen, and the like, can be of use in the compiling of data about men of importance, so that their personal habits, their financial status, their business and social relationships become a matter of record for future use. These facts are secured, usually by a little “jollying” rather than the payment of money, by the local agent—a person sometimes planted in garrison towns, state capitals, etc.—who is paid a comparatively small monthly sum for such work. This information is passed to a director of spies, who thereby discovers men who are in a position to supply him with valuable data and who determine whether or not they can be reached.

Now, just how is this “reaching” done? Mainly, I think it safe to say, by blackmail and intimidation. If from this accumulated gossip about his intended victim—who may be an army or naval officer, a manufacturer of military supplies, or a government clerk—the spy learns of some indiscretion committed by the man or his wife, he uses it as a club in obtaining information that he desires. Or he may hear that a man is in financial straits. He will make a point of seeing that his victim is helped, and then will make use of the latter’s friendship to worm facts out of him. In this way, sometimes without the suspicion of the victim being aroused, little bits of information are secured, which may be of no importance in themselves, but are of immense value when considered in conjunction with facts acquired elsewhere.

Ultimately the victim will balk or become suspicious. Then he is offered the alternative of continuing to supply information or of being exposed for his previous activities. Generally he accepts the lesser evil.

In this manner the spy system is built up even in peace times. The tremendous sums of money that are spent in this manner amount to millions. The quantity of information secured is on the other hand, inconceivably small for the most part. But in the mass of useless and superfluous facts that are supplied to the spies and through them to the government, are to be found a few that are worth the cost of the system. By the time war breaks out, if it does, the German Government has in its possession innumerable facts about the equipment of the army and navy of its enemy—and more important still, it has in its power men, sometimes high in the confidence of the enemy government, who can be forced into giving additional information when needed.

Now, the moment that war breaks out, what happens? The German Government has distributed throughout the country thousands of men and women who have legitimate business there; it has its hands on men who are not spies, but who will betray secrets for a price either in money or security; it is acquainted with the strength and weakness of fortresses, various units of the service, the exact armament of every ship in the navy, the resources of munition factories—in a word almost all of the essential details about that country’s fighting and economic strength. It also knows what portion of the populace are inclined to be disaffected. And it is thoroughly familiar with the strategical points of that country, so that in case of invasion it may strike hard and effectively.

What is must learn now is:

First, what are the present military and naval activities of the enemy.

Second, what are they planning to do.

Finally, the German Government must learn the how, why, when and where of each of these things.

That, with the machinery at its command, is not so difficult as it would seem.

Here is where the value of the minor bits of information comes in. A trainman tells, for instance, that he has seen a trainload of soldiers that day, upon such and such a line. A similar report comes in from elsewhere. Meantime another agent has reported that a certain packing house has shipped to the government so many tons of beef; while still another announces the delivery at a particular point of a totally different kind of supplies. Do you not see how all these facts, taken together, and coupled with an accurate knowledge of transportation conditions and of the geographical structure of the country would constitute an important indication of an enemy’s plans, even failing the possession of any absolute secrets? Do you not suppose that weeks before you were aware that any United States soldiers had sailed for France, the Germans might have known of all the preparations that were being made and could deduce accurately the number of troops that were sailing, and many facts of importance about their equipment. There is no need for the betrayal of secrets for this kind of information to become known. It is a mere matter of detective work.

But mark one feature of it. These facts are communicated by different spies—not to a central clearing house of information in this country, as has been surmised, but to various points outside the country for transmission to the Great General Staff. They are duplicated endlessly by different agents. They are sent to many different people for transmission. And even if half of the reports were lost, or half of the spies were discovered, there would still be a sufficient number left to carry on their work successfully.

Germany does not depend upon one spy alone for even the smallest item. Always the work is duplicated. Always the same information is being secured by several men, not one of whom knows any of the others; and always that information is transmitted to Berlin through so many diverse channels that it is impossible for the most vigilant secret service in the world to prevent a goodly part of it from reaching its destination.

How that information is transmitted I shall tell in a moment. First, I wish to explain how more important facts are secured—the secret plans of the government, such, for instance, as the course which had been decided upon for the squadron which carried the first American troops to France.

It is obvious that such facts as these could not have been deduced from a mass of miscellaneous reports. That secret must have been learned in its entirety. Exactly how it was discovered I do not pretend to know nor shall I offer any theories. But here, in a situation of this sort, unquestionably, is where the real spy—the “master spy,” if you wish to call him so—steps in.

Now, it is impossible, in spite of the utmost vigilance, to keep an important document from the knowledge of all but one or two people. No matter how secret, it is almost certain to pass through the hands of a number of officials and possibly several clerks. And with every additional person who knows of it, the risk of discovery or betrayal is correspondingly increased. If in code, it may be copied or memorized by a spy who is in a position to get hold of it, or by a person who is in the power of that spy! Once in Berlin, it can be deciphered. For the General Staff and the Admiralty have their experts in these matters who are very rarely defeated.

You may be sure that Germany has made her utmost efforts to put her spies into high places in this country, just as she has tried to do elsewhere. You may be sure, also, that she has neglected no opportunity to gain control over any official or any naval or army officer—however important or unimportant—whom the agents could influence. That has always been her method; nor is it difficult to see why it frequently succeeds.

Imagine the situation of a man who in time of peace had supplied, either innocently or otherwise, a foreign agent with information which possessed a considerable value. It is probable that he would revolt at a suggestion that he do it in time of war—but with his neck once in the German noose, with the alternative of additional compliance or exposure facing him, it is not hard to see how some men would become conscious traitors and others would be driven to suicide.

By a system of blackmail and intimidation the Germans have attempted to force into their ranks many people from whom they extort information that would now be regarded as traitorous, although formerly it might have been given out in all innocence.

Undoubtedly it was for purposes of intimidation that von Papen carried with him to England papers incriminating Germans and German-Americans who had been associated with him in one way or another. And why did von Rintelen return to this country and aid this government in exposing the German affiliations of people who had no German blood in them? The obvious answer is that those people had balked at aiding him in some scheme he had proposed. Therefore he made examples of them, with the double purpose of demonstrating to the United States the extent of German intrigue and of filling other implicated people with fear of the exposure that would come to them if they were not more compliant.

Once in possession of secret information, the spy is faced with the necessity of transmitting it to Berlin. Here again, the spy who is a German would meet with considerable difficulty. He may mail letters if no mail censorship has been instituted; but these are liable to seizure and are not so useful in the transmission of war secrets as they were in informing his government before the war of more or less standard facts about the strength of fortifications and the like. He may use private messengers—as do all spies—but the delay in this method is a severe handicap.

In sending news of the movements of troops, speed is the prime essential. Consequently he must communicate either by wireless or by cable. How does he do it?

There are innumerable ways. There may be in the confidential employ of many business houses which do a large cable business with neutral countries men who are either agents or dupes of the German Government. These men may send cables which seem absolutely innocent business messages, but which if properly read impart facts of military value to the recipient in Holland, say, or in Spain or South America. It is not a difficult matter to use business codes, giving to the terms an entirely different meaning from the one assigned in the code-book. Personal messages are also used in this way, as is well known. As to the wireless, although all stations are under rigid supervision, what is to prevent the Germans from establishing a wireless station in the Kentucky Mountains, for instance, and for a time operating it successfully?

But in spite of all cable censorship, the spy can smuggle information into Mexico, where it can be cabled or wirelessed on to Berlin, either directly or indirectly by way of one of the neutral countries. Even in spite of the most rigid censorship of mails and telegrams this sort of smuggling can be accomplished.

When I was in the Constitutional Army in Mexico, I used to receive revolver ammunition from an old German who carried it over the border in his wooden leg. Could not this method be applied to dispatches?

There are numerous authenticated cases of spies who have sent messages concealed in sausages or other articles of food. Moreover, the current of the Rio Grande at certain places runs in such a manner that a log or a bucket dropped in on the American side will drift to the Mexican shore and arrive at a point which can be determined with almost mathematical certainty.

I mention those instances merely to show how little of real value the censorship of cables and mails can accomplish. The question arises: What can be done? I shall try to indicate the answer.

HOW TO GET RID OF THE SPY SYSTEM.

I say frankly that I think it absolutely impossible to eradicate spies from any country. Certainly it cannot be done in a week or a year, or even in many years. It is more than probable that the German spy systems in France and England are more complete to-day than they were at the beginning of the war. Three years ago the spies in those countries were made up of both experienced and inexperienced men. Now the bunglers have been weeded out, and only those who are expert in defying detection remain. But these are the only men who were ever of real use to Germany; and fortified as they are by three years of unsuspected work in these countries, they are enabled to secure information of infinitely more worth than they formerly were. What is the situation in America?

I have shown you the structure of that system. Let me repeat again that Germany has installed in this country thousands of men, whose nationality and habits are such as to protect them from suspicion, who work silently and alone, because they know that their very lives depend upon their silence, and who are in communication with no central spy organization, for the very simple reason that no such organization exists. There is no clearing house for spy information in this country. There are no “master spies.”

Do you think that the German Government would risk the success of a work so important as this, by organizing a system which the arrest of any one man or group of men would betray? The idea of centralization in this work is popular at present. In theory it is a good one. In practise it is impossible. By the very nature of the spy’s trade, he must run alone, and not only be unsuspected of any connection with Germany now, but be believed never to have had such a connection. If the secret service were a chain, the loss of one link would break it. With a system of independent units, endlessly overlapping, eternally duplicating each other’s work, they continue their practices even though half of their number are caught.

Now with these men, protected as they are by the fact that not even their fellows know them, with their wits sharpened by three years of silent warfare against the agents of other governments and your own neutrality squad, the task of ferreting them out is an utterly impossible one. You cannot prevent spies from securing information.

You cannot prevent the transmission of that information to Berlin, without instituting, not a censorship, but a complete suppression of all communications of any sort.

But you can do much to counteract their methods by doing two things:

I. Delaying all mails and cables, other than actual government messages.

II. Instituting a system of counter espionage, which shall have for its object the detection but not the arrest of enemy spies; and the dissemination of misleading information.

The war work of the spy depends for success upon the speed with which he can communicate new facts to Berlin. If all his messages are delayed, his effectiveness is severely crippled.

If in addition to that, all persons sending suspicious messages anywhere are carefully shadowed; if their associations are looked up, it may be possible to determine from whom they are getting information, and by seeing that incorrect reports are given them, render them of negligible value to their employers.

Public arrests of suspected men are worthless. Such disclosures only serve to put the real spies on their guard. But if the spies are allowed to work in fancied security, it will be possible to find out just what they know and the government can change its plans at the last moment and so nullify their efforts.

Eternal vigilance, here as elsewhere, is the price of security. Germany has regarded the work of her spies as of almost as much importance as the force in the field. She has spent millions of dollars in building up a system in this country, whose ramifications extend to all points of your national life. And since upon this system rests all of her hopes of rendering worthless your participation in the war, she will not lightly let it fail.

I toss aside my clippings and sit looking out into the New York street which shows such little sign of war as yet. Defeat! That is the end of this silent warfare, this secret underground attack that has in it nothing of humanity or honor. I think of Germany, a country of quiet, peaceful folk as I once knew it, bearing no malice, going cheerfully about their work, seeking their destiny with a will that has nothing in it of conquest. And I think of Germany embattled, ruled by a group of iron men who see only their own ambitions as a goal—who have brought upon the country and the world this three-year tyranny of hate.

What will be the end? Will the war go on, eating up the lives and honor of men with its monstrous appetite? Or will there be peace—a peace that will bring nothing of revenge or oppression; that will carry with it only a desire for justice to all the peoples of the earth—that will kill forever this desire for conquest which now and in the past has borne only sorrow and bloodshed as its fruit? Will the peace bring forgetfulness of the past, in so far as men can forget?

That would be worth fighting for.

THE END.