Chapter M: I 8 is the Cable and Telegraph Section of Military Intelligence. A (1)

portion of its work consists in sending and receiving telegrams and cables between the division and its intelligence officers on duty outside of Washington, including the military attachés in foreign countries. By means of special wire connections, remarkably fast service has been provided, particularly with the most important centre, Paris, whence messages in plain text have been delivered in Washington four hours earlier by the clock than they were despatched, while code messages have been delivered at approximately the same time by the clock that they were sent. As an illustration of the peculiar tricks played by the change in time, I might mention—though it has nothing on earth to do with the subject of Military Intelligence—that the news of the death of Queen Victoria was received in New York three and a half hours before the time at which she breathed her last!

By far the greater portion of the enormous amount of cable correspondence handled by this office has been in the form of code messages. Since the necessity for security has required that the code words of each message be enciphered to prevent the possibility of the message being intercepted and read by the enemy, it has been necessary to subject each code message to two complete translations. It has also been the duty of this section, in order to insure secrecy and to secure economy in the transmission of messages, to prepare five code-books for publication. Few persons realize, I imagine, that the use of code by the Military Intelligence Division, the Adjutant-General’s Office, and other branches of the War Department, as well as by the American Expeditionary Forces, has resulted in a saving to the government of at least 50 per cent in the cost of telegraphic and cable communications. The use of the Geographical Code has brought about an even greater economy by eliminating the necessity of spelling out foreign place names. Though hundreds of plays, novels, and magazine stories have been based on the work of code and cipher experts in this and other countries, the writers have usually painted in too vivid colors the romantic side of the calling. Though code and cipher work is frequently productive of exciting and dramatic moments, it is usually the intellectual excitement of a chemist who, after weeks of laborious experiments, discovers a new reaction, rather than the physical thrill which a detective experiences when he discovers a clew to a crime.

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Because of the enormous number of foreign-born citizens who were brought into the army by the draft, or who entered it through the National Guard or as volunteers, the work of counter-espionage within the military establishment itself was of vital importance, for a single traitor in the expeditionary forces might well have turned victory into disaster. Had it not been for the vigilance and efficiency of the Third Section of Military Intelligence, which was charged with counter-espionage within the military establishment itself, our hastily recruited and somewhat loosely organized armies would have afforded countless opportunities for the operations of enemy agents. I can give no higher praise to the work of this section than to say that, though numerous enemy agents succeeded in gaining admission to the military service in the United States, they did not succeed in getting overseas, where they might have done irreparable harm. So active were our intelligence officers, so carefully did they investigate the record of every man destined for service in France, that, of the two and a half million men in the A. E. F., not a single one, so far as I am aware, was convicted of espionage.

Every military organization operating independently, from a division down to a quartermaster depot, possessed its own counter-espionage organization, built up within itself for its own protection but operating according to a general plan and reporting directly to the Military Intelligence Division in Washington. During the war there were over 400 intelligence officers reporting to Military Intelligence, either directly or through department intelligence officers. In addition to these, there were special intelligence officers at certain highly important points: New York, Hoboken, Philadelphia, Pittsburg, St. Louis, New Orleans, Seattle, and San Juan, Porto Rico—and twenty-one district intelligence officers stationed in centres of somewhat less importance. The privilege of direct communication, granted by the Secretary of War, enabled the counter-espionage organization throughout the United States to be controlled and co-ordinated without interference by the normal military command, thereby insuring additional secrecy for its operations and eliminating the enormous amount of time and red tape involved in sending communications through the usual military channels. Each intelligence officer corresponded directly and freely with every other intelligence officer, copies of such lateral communications being sent to Military Intelligence, the files of M. I. thus becoming a great central reservoir for intelligence information of every sort. As a result of this organization, the Director of Military Intelligence, sitting at his desk in Washington, was the centre of a vast network of intelligence officers and other agents which covered not only the whole of the United States but, indeed, the greater part of the world.

The ever-present problem presented by counter-espionage work within the army was the determination of the loyalty of officers and men. Experience proved that the pro-German was almost certain to reveal himself sooner or later, or to be reported by some one who had known him, the loyal rank and file themselves constituting the most effective counter-espionage service of all. Investigations of men thus reported frequently showed, however, that, though the suspect might have been pro-German before our entrance into the war, he had been apparently loyal since. If he was an enlisted man it was usually deemed safe to put him with line troops and send him to the front, for, even were he to prove disloyal, his opportunities for acquiring important information were comparatively few, and his opportunities for transmitting such information to the enemy almost infinitesimal. In the case of an officer, however, the question took on a far graver aspect, and only after the most searching investigation was such a man permitted to go overseas.

The activities of the men under investigation assumed many forms. First in importance, of course, though not in numbers, were those enemy agents who had entered the army for the express purpose of acquiring information for transmission to the enemy. These were, in plain language, spies, and had they been caught “with the goods,” they would have been subject to court martial and execution. In order to silence the countless stories and rumors which have been circulated, I will avail myself of this opportunity to state that _not a single American soldier or civilian was executed for espionage during the entire course of the war_. The bulk of the cases which were investigated concerned men who, because of their foreign birth, or antecedents, or sympathies, _might_ have been willing to impart information of military value to enemy agents. The most difficult class to deal with, however, was the man who was spreading stories, with or without thought as to their effect, which would tend to lower the morale of the army. The reports upon which investigations were initiated varied greatly in definiteness, ranging all the way from specific statements as to a man’s utterances or acts to a vague rumor that in such and such a place there was a man, name not given, who should be investigated. It was the policy of the section, however, to pursue any clew, no matter how vague, until the guilt or innocence of the suspect was definitely established. Where the original information was anonymous, that point was always sharply emphasized, so that the suspect’s reputation might not be injured should the allegations prove to be unfounded, for it was found that anonymous charges were very frequently made from motives of spite or revenge or because of some real or fancied injury. In such cases it was the policy of the section to push the investigation only far enough to show their character and then drop them promptly, without burdening the field intelligence officers or other investigating agencies with useless work.

The converse of this policy was followed in cases where the charges appeared to be well grounded, the man then being kept under surveillance until something, no matter what, was picked up which would place him where he could do no harm.

One of the commonest problems was the one presented by the officer of German extraction who had been born and bred amid Teutonic influences, and who was naturally pro-German in sympathy and utterances before the United States entered the war, but who had been guilty of no act or utterance since that date which could be construed as in any degree disloyal, and who, from a military point of view, was extremely efficient. Such cases, in the last analysis, always resolved themselves into the question: “Is he fit to go across?” Each case was, of course, considered on its own merits. While it was obviously impossible to lay down a rule-of-thumb applicable to all, two considerations in the main governed the decision. In the first place, an effort was made to obtain the opinions of the officers serving with the man in question and to learn whether they would be satisfied to go into action against German troops with him. If his fellow officers felt that they could trust him under such circumstances, it was a fair judgment in his favor. The second consideration was to ascertain whether his name, lineage, or appearance would make him unacceptable to our French allies. If such were likely to be the case, international courtesy, if nothing else, made it inadvisable to send him overseas. Surveillance of these men naturally was continued in France, but the Intelligence Division of the A. E. F., in reporting that such a case could be considered closed, frequently said in effect that any taint of disloyalty which might once have existed had been burned away by the fire of battle.

The process of having an officer discharged from the army by authority of Paragraph 9, War Department Bulletin No. 32 (“The President is hereby authorized to discharge any officer from the office held by him under such appointment for any cause which, in the judgment of the President, would promote the public service”), was the easiest and most satisfactory manner of dealing with cases of individuals against whom it was impossible to obtain sufficient evidence for conviction by court martial but whose presence in the army was regarded as constituting a menace to the national safety. This will explain in some measure, perhaps, the curt announcements which appeared from time to time during the course of the war in Army Orders: “Lieutenant (or Captain, or Colonel) So-and-So has been discharged for the good of the Service.” The great drawback, however, to this method of ridding the army of undesirables was that it could not be applied to officers of the regular establishment, as the terms of the Act restricted its application to Reserve officers and those holding commissions for the term of the emergency. The policy pursued by Military Intelligence in the cases of regular officers suspected of disloyalty—for all suspected officers were not confined to the National Army or the Reserve Corps—was to have them assigned to posts where their opportunities for mischief would be reduced to a minimum. An officer ordered to duty in the heart of Alaska, say, was considered about as safe, from the point of view of Military Intelligence, as though he were in a cell at Leavenworth.

Among the nearly 700,000 men swept by the first draft into the cantonments to be fused into a national army were thousands upon thousands of men of alien birth, many of them but recently arrived in this country and all but ignorant of its tongue. It speedily became apparent that the fusing process was failing to produce in many of these men, perhaps in the majority of them, the change necessary to make them into soldiers. Instead of melting and flowing like the rest of the metal from which was forged the weapon which halted the Huns at Château-Thierry and beat them back in the Argonne, these men of alien birth remained a hard, unyielding mass, not only obdurate in itself, but threatening to leave in the finished weapon flaws that would be fatal when it was subjected to the test of battle. By the fall of 1917, therefore, the military authorities had awakened to a realization of the fact that they were confronted by a serious and difficult problem—what to do with the foreign-speaking element of our new armies.

These immigrants, particularly the more recent, tend to congregate in the industrial centres of the country, in New York’s teeming “East Side,” in the mining regions of Pennsylvania, in the manufacturing cities of New England, and in the Pacific Northwest. Here they live in swarming communities, speaking their own languages, reading (if they can) their own newspapers, attending their own churches, their wants ministered to by their own doctors, lawyers, bankers, and tradesmen. From such colonies the drag-net of the draft drew into the army tens of thousands of foreign-speaking men. Here, then, was the first and greatest source of difficulty in transforming these aliens from many lands into American soldiers—ignorance of the English language. Unable to understand the orders which were given them, they were set down as stupid and surly, and through a lack of judgment in the selection of the commissioned and non-commissioned officers put in charge of them, they were frequently the victims of misunderstanding and ill-treatment. Four illustrations are typical of a hundred or more similar incidents in the Depot Brigade at Camp Gordon:

Private Sobolowski, failing to spell his name, was struck in
the jaw by his sergeant, so successfully that the jaw was
broken and a few teeth were knocked out. The private went to
the hospital and the sergeant to the guard-house, pending
court-martial proceedings.

Private Pagarzelski replied to his corporal in Polish, which
the corporal considered highly abusive. The private was
court-martialled and sixty dollars of his pay was forfeited.
As a consequence the man was not only unable to help his aged
mother but was left without a penny for himself.

Private Sznyder, being on guard duty, misunderstood the orders
repeated to him by the corporal of the guard, and naturally
did not comply with them. As a result he was arrested and put
in the guard-house, fifty-seven dollars being taken from him
by a corporal, of which only thirty-five dollars was returned.
The corporal took advantage of his ignorance of English to
appropriate a part of the money.

A Russian was arrested for evasion of military service. After
he had spent six weeks in the guard-house it was discovered
(through an interpreter) that the man was arrested before he
had received notification of being drafted.

From a counter-espionage point of view such conditions were distinctly dangerous. The foreign-speaking soldiers, if not actually affiliated with the enemy, were, because of their ignorance and credulity, especially susceptible to the advances of enemy agents and propagandists. When herded together in a depot brigade, made surly by the inconsiderate treatment they received and chafing under the compulsion of being set at manual labor in this country when their ambition was to go overseas, they were potentially, if not actually, ripe for mischief.

Early in 1918 Mr. D. Chauncey Brewer, of Boston, president of the North American Civic League for Immigrants, was appointed by the Secretary of War to take the situation in hand. Under his direction a corps of field agents commenced operations both in the camps and cantonments and in the large cities and industrial centres, collecting information about the non-English-speaking men taken by the draft. These agents, who were carefully picked men of foreign extraction and generally linguists of ability, observed the general and special influences affecting the foreign-born groups and investigated propaganda, suspects, complaints regarding draft evasion, draft boards, soldiers’ allotments, insurance, and the like. They reported on conditions existing in the camps from information contained in soldiers’ letters, for many men who were prevented by their lack of knowledge of English or other reasons from complaining to their military superiors, would recite their troubles in their letters to the folks at home. These agents accounted in various ways for their presence in the camps, most of them announcing that they were working for the Associated Charities or for the North American Civic League for Immigrants. They established connections with leaders of the foreign colonies in the larger cities as well as with the poor. The foreign-language press, its editors and its influence, good or bad, also demanded their attention. They reported loyal citizens of integrity and ability who were later induced by means of correspondence to volunteer for this kind of service and who could keep Military Intelligence informed on conditions in their respective cities when the agent had finished his work or found it advisable to withdraw. Thus was built up a large volunteer organization composed of loyal citizens of foreign birth or extraction, who kept the Intelligence Division advised of conditions among their respective groups or races, and to whom the division could apply for assistance or information in individual cases or localities. These volunteer assistants included men in all lines of business and in all professions. The Boards of Health of cities having large foreign-speaking populations vouched for loyal foreign-speaking doctors who, because of the peculiarly confidential relations they enjoyed with their patients, were able to obtain information of great value to the section. The same was true of clergymen of many denominations. The editors of foreign-language newspapers frequently rendered highly effective co-operation, and correspondence was started with a dozen or more school superintendents in the larger cities with a view to enlisting the aid of the high-school boys in promoting the morale of the foreign-speaking colonies.

Reports received from Camp Gordon in April, 1918, indicated serious trouble with the unnaturalized Russians and Poles, and, in some instances, with the Italians, all of whom were perfectly willing to fight for the lands from which they came but not for this one. Camp Gordon was a replacement camp, and as such had become a dumping-ground for divisions having men that they wished to get rid of, a large proportion of whom were foreigners. Of the 1,500 men of all nationalities who were transferred to this camp by the 82d Division on the ground of suspected disloyalty, nearly 1,000 did not speak English. In order to remedy this dangerous condition, a memorandum was drawn up by M I 3 and was adopted by the War Department. This memorandum recommended that foreign-speaking draftees not having sufficient knowledge of English to understand the commands be segregated by nationalities in companies, both the commissioned and non-commissioned officers of which should be of the same nationality as their men, or should at least be familiar with their language, habits, and psychology. In support of the plan the words of Napoleon were quoted:

“If I had enough humpbacks in the Army to make a regiment, enough Negroes to make a battalion, enough dumb men to make a company, I would so organize them. No stimulus is more potent than the pride of men who have a common bond either of race, nationality, color, or even affliction. Men thus put together want to show the rest of the Army their extreme capability.”

The work at Camp Gordon was put in charge of an officer of Military Intelligence, who had had considerable experience in social-service work among the foreign-speaking soldiers at Camps Grant and Custer. Upon his arrival at Camp Gordon he found that those soldiers (most of them foreigners) who had been left behind when troops were sent overseas had been placed in the 5th and 10th Training Battalions of the Depot Brigade. Forty-one nationalities were represented in this group of foreigners, classified as Allied Aliens, Neutral Aliens, and Enemy Aliens, 80 per cent of them being Italians, Slavs, and Russian Jews. The officer immediately initiated a study of each nationality and of each individual, the process of personally interviewing each man, 976 in all, occupying two weeks. Thousands of questions and complaints were answered and explanations made to the men in their native tongue, every man being recorded and classified according to his nationality, loyalty, intellect, citizenship, and military fitness. This done, two companies were formed, one composed of Slavs—the majority of them Poles—and the other of Italians. Three officers of Polish extraction and one of Russian were procured for the Slav company and two of Italian extraction for the Italian company. The first week of training and lectures on discipline resulted in an amazing impetus of spirit and enthusiasm. Between the Slavs and the Italians arose the keenest competition for proficiency in drill. So startling was the change that the battalion commander and the American officers in charge of the two companies passed rapidly from discouragement and pessimism to extreme enthusiasm. An elaborate plan was worked out for giving the men a working knowledge of English and a series of lectures were given in their own tongues, thus acquainting them with the requirements necessary for service overseas. Special religious services were arranged for the Italians and the Slavs, their spiritual needs being ministered to by priests of their own faiths. The camp diet was modified in order to give them food which was racially acceptable. Social entertainments were planned, so that prominent citizens of Atlanta could meet the foreign-speaking soldiers and make them feel that they were as dear to the country whose uniform they were wearing as though they were American-born. The immediate result of this interesting experiment was the conversion of potentially dangerous malcontents into loyal, enthusiastic, and efficient soldiers. Furthermore, the reaction upon the families of the soldiers and upon the colonies from which they came was highly gratifying, for their letters from the men, filled with their suddenly awakened enthusiasm for army life and with glowing accounts of the kindness and consideration which were being shown them, did much to counteract any latent disloyalty among the foreign-speaking population. To each new group of foreigners who entered the battalion the question was put: “How many of you men are willing to go abroad and fight?” In most cases the affirmative responses were pitifully few. In fact, the Slavs practically all refused to put on identification tags, asserting that should they be sent abroad they would be as willing to help the Germans as the Allies. But when, after a few weeks’ stay in the battalion, the question, “How many of you men are willing to go abroad and fight?” was again put to them, the response was as remarkable as it was thrilling, for practically the whole battalion stepped forward as one man. Properly treated, the metal had fused at last. They were all Americans now.

So successful did the experiment prove at Camp Gordon that a few months later the same officer was ordered to introduce his plan at Camp Devens, where there were approximately 6,000 men who did not have sufficient knowledge of English to be effectively trained. In three days he, with proper assistance, personally examined upward of 2,000 men, and on the fourth day divided them into four companies, Company No. 1 consisting of 250 Slavs (three-fourths of them Poles), Company No. 2 of 230 Italians, Company No. 3 of 200 Greeks and Albanians, and Company No. 4 of the same number of Armenians and Syrians. A number of non-commissioned officers who could speak the necessary languages were transferred from the depot brigade and assigned to assist in the training of the new companies. The results obtained were beyond all expectations. The spirit and enthusiasm of the men advanced by leaps and bounds. They entered into competitive drills as enthusiastically as though they were schoolboys playing a game. The guard-house, which, until the introduction of the plan, had always been full of foreign-speaking soldiers, suddenly became deserted. From being the worst organization at the camp, the “Foreign Legion,” as it was called, became the model battalion.

The plan, followed both at Camp Devens and Camp Gordon, of providing the foreign-speaking organization with foreign-speaking non-commissioned officers of unquestioned loyalty served an additional purpose in that it provided the Intelligence Division with new and valuable sources of information, for the non-commissioned officers, being familiar with the language, customs, and modes of thought of their men, could easily detect any undercurrent of disaffection or disloyalty. Their common speech would at once establish a bond of sympathy that would be likely to disarm the suspicions of an enemy agent or sympathizer. Moreover, the speech and characteristics of peoples living in close proximity to each other, though divided by an international frontier, are usually so nearly identical that no one can distinguish between them save a person who himself comes from that region. Only a man who had himself lived on the Russo-German frontier, for example, would be able to say with certainty whether a certain soldier came from Russian, Austrian, or German Poland; from Galicia or Lithuania; from Transylvania, Besserabia, or the Ukraine. An incident which occurred at one of the camps illustrates this principle as applied to the Oriental races. A civilian agent of the Military Intelligence Division, who was an Armenian, noticed that a soldier who claimed to be a Syrian refused to eat pork. Being perfectly familiar with both Turkish and Syrian customs, and knowing that the Turks, who are Mohammedans, are forbidden to eat pork, while the Syrians, who are Christians, are not, the operative sharply questioned the pretended Syrian, who at length confessed that he was a Turk, and, consequently, an enemy alien. Such a slight indication would have passed unnoticed save by one familiar with Oriental customs, and a dangerous enemy agent might thus have escaped detection.

To M I 4 was intrusted the extremely important work of counter-espionage among the civilian population. It investigated the activities of the enemy in propaganda, in sabotage, and in the establishment of communications with the home country; it investigated such of his trade activities and financial transactions as might impede our successful prosecution of the war; it discovered enemy influences among political, racial, and religious groups and in labor organizations, and it watched persons throughout the nation who, though not associated with the enemy, were nevertheless engaged in pacifist, revolutionary, and similar activities which were likely to interfere with our military operations. The section operated through many agencies. As a branch of the War Department, it employed intelligence officers serving with troops in the various camps and cantonments, who furnished the section with much valuable information relative to civilian activities which reacted upon the army. Similar information was furnished by the departmental intelligence officers, stationed at the headquarters of the several geographical departments of the army, and by the military attachés in foreign countries. The Department of Justice, the State Department, and the Office of Naval Intelligence also actively co-operated with the section. By the establishment of a system of counter-espionage in foreign countries the section succeeded in frustrating many of the German plans at their source and in counteracting enemy propaganda which, had it gone unchecked, might have had the gravest results. The German method of organized propaganda was well illustrated by the operations of the Chilean-German League, which was founded in October, 1916, by Chileans of German descent, its membership including commercial agents, priests, professors, physicians, merchants, and school-teachers. In a circular dated Valparaiso, October 24, 1917, and marked “Confidential,” the management of the local branch of the league at Valparaiso announced a meeting to be held jointly with the representatives of all German societies of the city for the purpose of founding a propaganda committee. The necessity for starting a propaganda on a large scale was pointed out, and the main object of the league, that of urging the maintenance of neutrality by the Chilean Government, was described in detail. The importance to the Allies of the German ships in Chilean waters was also emphasized, the circular saying, in part: “... if we succeed in postponing the rupture of relations by this propaganda only for weeks, we have aided Germany and her allies to the extent of millions, harming the Allies at the same time by millions.” Though the league succeeded in preventing Chile from joining the Allies, the vigilance and energy displayed by the agents of our counter-espionage service in that country practically nullified the effects of the league’s propaganda in South America.

From the beginning of the war until its end the American public was constantly thrilled by the sensational and usually highly circumstantial accounts which appeared in the press, particularly the Sunday supplements, of the operations of German secret agents in the United States. Every one, I suppose, has heard, in some one of its many versions, the story of the German spy who was shot in the telephone-booth of a New York hotel by a Secret Service operative while giving a confederate information relative to the sailing of American transports. Though I have heard that story related, with minutest detail, in clubs, over dinner-tables, and in the smoking-compartments of Pullmans, I never heard any one ask the quite obvious questions as to why it was necessary for the operative to shoot the spy instead of taking him alive, or how the confederate proposed to transmit the information to Germany. One picturesque version of the story laid the scene in a crowded New York Subway train, the Secret Service man having his automatic in his pocket and firing through the cloth of his coat. Then there was the equally sensational story of the Hoboken family in whose employ was a German spy disguised as a maid of all work. One day she mysteriously disappeared, and a few hours after her disappearance Secret Service agents called at the house and searched the belongings she had left behind her. Their search was rewarded by discovering, under a false bottom in her trunk, a complete set of the plans of the defenses of New York harbor. Variations of that tale placed its locale in Stamford, Conn., in Chittenango, N. Y., in Newton Centre, Mass., in Key West, and in Los Angeles, while the papers discovered in the mysterious trunk ranged all the way from drawings of coast-defense guns to a copy of the German Naval Code. The same hysteria which led the public to accept these ridiculous concoctions at their face value, and to beg for more, caused them to suspect all sorts of well-known persons of being engaged in espionage activities—the general commanding a certain American division, a famous woman aviator, a still more famous prima donna, a Jewish banker noted for his philanthropies, the chancellor of a great university, and even the secretary to the President having been discovered—so the rumors had it—to be German spies. At one period of the war, indeed, it was popularly reported that spies were executed every morning at daybreak on Governor’s Island. Now I dislike to destroy illusions and to spoil perfectly good stories, but the dictates of truth compel me to assert that not a single spy was executed on Governor’s Island or anywhere else in the United States, though it is my personal opinion that a few such executions would have brought to an abrupt end the series of fires, explosions, strikes, and other cases of sabotage for which the agents of the Wilhelmstrasse were responsible. For stating this opinion, quite early in the war, at a dinner in Boston at which I was a speaker, I received a mild reprimand from the Adjutant-General of the Army. On the occasion in question I remarked, if I remember rightly, that I was convinced that the most effective method of dealing with spies was not to intern them but to inter them. And I am still of the same opinion.

Though Germany had a number of secret agents operating in the United States—though not nearly as many as was generally supposed—the only one of them who measured up to the popular conception of a spy was a woman known as Madame de Victorica. In certain respects she came very near to meeting the specifications for an international adventuress as laid down in the mystery stories of Messrs. Chambers and Oppenheim. The results she obtained were, however, distinctly disappointing—at least from the Wilhelmstrasse point of view. Her father was the Prussian general to whom Marshal Bazaine handed his sword at the surrender of Metz; her mother was a Prussian countess; her sister was married to a Prussian nobleman, and her brother was a Jesuit priest serving as a chaplain in the Austrian Army. Madame de Victorica has had three husbands—all South Americans. Two died within a few months after marrying the handsome adventuress; the third was divorced. According to her confession, Madame de Victorica was trained in espionage work at the Naval Intelligence Bureau in Berlin and was sent to the United States by the authorities of the Wilhelmstrasse for the purposes of obtaining military and naval information, to foment labor troubles, to tamper with the Roman Catholic clergy, and to lay the plans for a rebellion in Ireland more successful than the abortive one of 1916. She memorized a code before leaving Berlin. The secret ink in which her letters were written was given her at the Chemical Institute and was carried in two silk mufflers, the ink being obtained by saturating them in cold water and wringing them. Writing in this ink could be developed with iodine tablets, manufactured by a well-known firm of London chemists, dissolved in vinegar. Other messages were transmitted by means of pin-pricking certain letters in newspapers. Madame de Victorica was unquestionably a woman of considerable intelligence and social position; she had had some experience as a journalist, and was apparently credited by the Germans with quickness of wit and resourcefulness as an organizer. This reputation she only partly justified, however, for she talked indiscreetly on the steamer while coming over, wasted time and money after her arrival in New York in buying elaborate gowns, and was an inveterate user of drugs. As the result of converging lines of inquiry pursued by Military Intelligence and the Department of Justice, she was arrested, together with several of her confederates, in August, 1918. There you have a thumb-nail sketch, as it were, of the most dangerous German agent in America. She can thank her lucky stars that the Wilhelmstrasse sent her to the United States instead of to France or England, for had she been caught in either of those countries her career would have ended not between stone walls but between a stone wall and a firing-party.

It is easy enough to understand, if not to sympathize, with the reasons which led Madame de Victorica to come to the United States in the capacity of a German spy, for she was, after all, German to the core, her relatives for generations before her having held high positions under the Prussian crown. But it is not easy, indeed it is almost impossible, for a loyal American to understand how men who were born and educated in the United States and who had a long line of American ancestors behind them, could sell their honor and their loyalty for German gold. It is, however, a curious and regrettable fact that certain persons whose disloyalty was proved beyond the shadow of a doubt were purely American, so far as their birth and parentage were concerned, their only connections with Germany being financial ones. Of these I have particularly in mind three men, all, if I am not mistaken, possessing university educations, who were journalists and correspondents of considerable standing until the discovery of their pro-German activities blasted their reputations and plunged them into oblivion. One of them—a correspondent who had seen service in several wars—was caught in the act of carrying messages from the Austrian Ambassador in Washington to Berlin. He was arrested by British intelligence officers and returned to the United States. His passport was taken from him, and those who were once his friends now pass him by without speaking. Another of these gentry succeeded, in spite of his German sympathies and affiliations, in obtaining admission to a training-camp, being given a commission and sent to France. But, as the result of representations made by the Intelligence Division, which was thoroughly familiar with his career, he was brought back to the United States, subjected to an official interrogation, confessed, and, though he made desperate efforts to have the President accept his resignation, was dismissed from the army “for the good of the service.” The third of this precious trio went to Germany as a correspondent, at once constituted himself a champion of everything German, savagely attacked the land of his birth, and, upon the fall of the Kaiser, fled to Sweden, where, so far as I am aware, he is still living in exile, a real “Man Without a Country.”

The great organization built up by Von Papen and his fellows for purposes of sabotage made it imperative, upon the entry of the United States into the war, that a system should immediately be devised for the protection of those plants and workers engaged in the manufacture of munitions. With the declaration of war the United States became, almost overnight, the greatest manufacturer of war materials in the world. In every city in the land factories producing the tools of the fighter’s trade were running night and day, and other factories, hundreds of them, began to spring up as though at the wave of a magician’s wand. The nation was a-hum with feverish industry from ocean to ocean. But of what avail was this tremendous wave of manufacturing activity, of what use the expenditure of billions in the erection and operation of plants and factories, unless those plants and factories were afforded protection against fire and the acts of enemy agents? To fill this need there was organized, in July, 1917, the Plant Protection Section of the Military Intelligence Division.

The system of plant protection provided, first of all, for a physical examination of the munition factories of the country with a view to minimizing the danger of their destruction by fire. Basing their plans on the estimates of the insurance companies that 85 per cent of all fires are the result of carelessness, the inspectors sent out by the section insisted, as a measure essential to the success of their work, on a systematic and wholesale house-cleaning, the wave of cleanliness which struck those American plants engaged in the manufacture of munitions during the first year of the war being directly traceable to the orders of the Plant Protection Section. The officers of the section next turned their attention to measures for the prevention of sabotage and the fomentation of labor troubles by enemy agents, which was accomplished by the introduction of what was known as the “interior organization system.” This consisted in the establishment within the plant of a complete espionage system, composed of old and trusted employees, who worked as Secret Service agents, and were unknown to one another. In cases where it was deemed necessary, this body was re-enforced by trained and experienced operatives from the Plant Protection Section, who usually obtained positions as workmen in the plant without the knowledge of the management. By this means the perpetrators of many cases of sabotage were discovered, incipient strikes were prevented, agitators and professional trouble-makers were kept under surveillance, and, if their actions warranted, were placed under arrest, and an unceasing watch kept on the movements of enemy agents. The campaign of sabotage and destruction which German sympathizers had been conducting almost unchecked was abruptly halted, for so wide-spread and efficient was the section’s organization that the enemy agent was constantly haunted by the fear that his most trusted confederate might be a secret operative who was watching his every action. Though it never had more than 400 active agents (this does not include, of course, the enormous number of volunteer operatives recruited from the workers themselves), the section extended its protection to more than 37,000 manufacturing plants, and, during the period of its war-time operations, made upward of 270,000 recommendations for arrests, investigations, and prosecutions, or for further plant protection.

Agents of the Plant Protection Section succeeded in gaining admission to the innermost councils of the I. W. W. and kindred organizations, and, by thus obtaining advance notice of any contemplated action, were successful in averting strikes and labor troubles which would have caused the loss of millions of dollars, and, through halting the flow of munitions to the front, the loss of thousands of American lives. The success of the section in this phase of its work was due, first, as I have already explained, to its ability to obtain advance information of impending trouble, and, secondly, to the fact that the agents of the section were in a position to handle a delicate labor situation in an absolutely impartial manner, taking no sides and inspiring the confidence of both employers and employees. Thus it came about that the section was frequently able to compose differences between capital and labor when other arbitrators, who did not so completely hold the confidence of both parties to the dispute, failed.

After the Armistice the activities of the section consisted, in the main, in protecting the government against fraudulent claims presented by manufacturers and in guarding the great plants and warehouses which were abandoned upon the cancellation of war contracts. In one case the section obtained and prepared evidence for a grand jury which so conclusively showed fraud on the part of certain manufacturers holding government contracts, that another concern, which had already presented claims amounting to $600,000, upon learning that they were being investigated by agents of the section, hurriedly withdrew them. Another example of the efficiency which characterized the work of the section is illustrated by the case of a concern engaged in the manufacture of shells, the evidence presented by the section resulting in the indictment of the president and ten other officials of the company for submitting shells to the government for inspection under fraudulent circumstances.

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The difficult, perplexing, and highly delicate work connected with the various phases of the censorship was intrusted to the Tenth Section of Military Intelligence, a number of subsections being established for the censorship of mail matter, telegraphs and telephones, radio, books and permanent literature, foreign-language newspapers, religious and pacifist publications, photographs, motion-pictures, and mail to or from prisoners of war.

To assume censorship of the mails was a new experience to our government, for it was in direct opposition to American customs and traditions and was extremely repugnant to a large and influential section of the American people. It was undertaken, indeed, only after its necessity had been urgently and repeatedly emphasized by our allies. Early in the war France had taken over the censorship of the Swiss mails, leaving to England the supervision of the mails to and from Holland and the Scandinavian countries. Little attention had been paid, however, to the Spanish, Mexican, and Central and South American mails, save when they passed through the postal barrier erected by the Allied censorship around the neutral states of Europe. The first problem that faced the American censors, therefore, was to close the channels of information leading into Germany through Spain, or out of Germany, via Spain, to the Americas, Spain being in constant communication with Berlin by a powerful system of wireless. Upon our entrance into the war it became imperative to close this gap in the news blockade which was in force against the enemy. This done, the only possible way for a German sympathizer in the western hemisphere to communicate with Germany was indirectly, through an intermediary in a neutral country, it becoming necessary for a German agent in South America, for example, to direct his communications to some confederate in Holland or Scandinavia. Such communications, which were usually disguised as innocent social or business letters, but in reality contained concealed messages in code, cipher, or invisible ink, would then be transcribed by the confederate in the neutral country and forwarded to the particular bureau of the German Government for which they were intended, either by special courier or through ordinary postal channels.

Owing to the peculiar position of the United States and its distance from the actual battle-front, about 95 per cent of its postal-censorship work was negative in character and only 5 per cent positive, these terms, “negative” and “positive,” being used in the same sense as they applied to other activities of Military Intelligence. By far the greater part of the mail that required censorship was of a nature which might have caused social unrest, labor troubles, or even rebellion in this country. Only a comparatively small number of letters were intercepted which brought positive information concerning the plans of the enemy or of neutrals. In studying this positive information it was necessary for the censors to keep constantly in mind the fact that the enemy intentionally permitted false information to be sent out, which, were it taken at its face value, might lead us to alter our plans or to relax our efforts. For periods of two or three months, perhaps longer, immediately preceding each of the great German offensives, there trickled into the offices of the censor scores of letters depicting in heartrending terms the social unrest and the appalling food conditions in the Fatherland.

Early in 1918 the United States, following the example of France and England, established large chemical laboratories in New York and Washington, where thousands of letters were subjected to tests for invisible ink. The usual letter-paper which is used for communications in invisible ink can be given minor tests without altering its appearance. These preliminary tests are for the purpose of ascertaining whether the paper has been moistened or subjected to other treatment preparatory to the use of invisible ink. In case the minor tests show the paper has received some unusual treatment, a major test is given which results in developing any invisible writing, though it at the same time affects the texture and color of the stationery so that it is impossible to restore it to its original appearance. Practically all mail to or from persons on the suspect lists kept by England, France, and the United States was subjected to such examination.

By assuming the censorship of the Spanish, West Indian, and Latin American mails, the American authorities were able to break up the trade relations which up to that time had existed between German sympathizers in the United States and German forwarding agents in South America. In the latter months of the war Germany found herself in desperate need of rubber in any form for use in electrical devices, particularly for the construction of electrical apparatus to be used in torpedoes and submarines. Hence we find the censorship intercepting suspicious orders for such goods as dental rubber, tobacco-pouches, rubber soles and heels. The censorship also intercepted and confiscated hundreds of tons of German propaganda literature prepared by German agents in Spain and intended for distribution in Latin America. Had this propaganda reached the German agents in South and Central America to whom it was addressed and had it been distributed in accordance with their plans, it would unquestionably have resulted in great social unrest, political demonstrations, and revolutions, if not, indeed, in actual war between certain Latin American countries, thus interrupting our supply of certain products essential to the manufacture of munitions. Had the Germans, for example, succeeded in starting a war between Chile and Bolivia over the Tacna-Arica question, our supply of Chilean nitrates, which we imported in enormous quantities, in all probability would have been cut off. In fact, it was the likelihood of just such an occurrence which led us to spend millions of dollars in the erection of nitrate plants in the United States, thus making us independent of the Chilean nitrate beds. The censorship was likewise largely responsible for preventing revolutions which were planned to take place simultaneously in Cuba and Mexico. German agents had planned to launch a revolution in the Oriente province of Cuba with a view to burning the cane-fields, while at the same time an insurrection was to break out in the Tampico district of Mexico, thus providing an excuse for the destruction of the oil-wells. Had this plan been successful—and it came much nearer being successful than most persons realize—our main sources of supply for oil and sugar would have disappeared. But the plotters in Cuba were indiscreet enough to discuss their plans in letters sent to their representatives in the United States; these letters were intercepted by the postal censors, and a few days later a transport, loaded to the gunwales with American Marines, set sail for Guantanamo. The commander of the Marines had orders to prevent the peace of the island republic from being disturbed. And he did. For which we—and the Cubans—have to thank the postal censors.

It did not take the government long to realize that, if the cable and postal censorships were to be made sufficiently water-tight to prevent our military secrets leaking through to the enemy, it would be necessary to reinforce them with a censorship of photographs and motion-picture films. Accordingly, the Censorship Section of Military Intelligence was charged, in addition to its numerous other duties, with the censorship of all pictures taken by military photographers for the use of the Committee on Public Information and for other publicity purposes, as well as of those taken for commercial purposes by private concerns. In order to keep our own people, as well as those of the Allied and neutral countries, acquainted with the progress which the United States was making in the business of war, scores of cameramen belonging to the Photographic Section of the Signal Corps were sent out, at the request of the Committee on Public Information, to take pictures at the cantonments, training-camps, and munition factories in this country and in the theatres of operations overseas. As, however, there were countless details of our equipment, munitions, training methods, and the like of which the enemy must be kept in ignorance, it was imperative that all such pictures be carefully examined and passed upon before being released for publication or exhibition. And, moreover, they must be passed upon by men who were authorities on the various phases of the army with which the pictures dealt. That it was a matter which could not be left with safety to amateurs was emphasized by an incident which occurred in October, 1918, when the great Allied offensive was at its height. One Sunday morning the officers of the General Staff were astounded to see, in the illustrated supplement of a New York newspaper, detailed photographs of the new French howitzers, the very existence of which up to that time had been one of the most carefully guarded secrets of the Allies. The young officer who passed the pictures for publication explained that, not being an artilleryman, the howitzers looked like any other guns to him. A few weeks later the Staff was again surprised and angered to see another secret—the small tanks which were being manufactured in this country—revealed in the same paper. Here was another case of an officer having passed a photograph dealing with a subject of which he was ignorant. In order to prevent a repetition of such blunders, the Censorship Section arranged to work in close co-operation with the Chief Naval Censor and with experts in the offices of the Chief of Coast Artillery, the Chief of Field Artillery, the Chief of Ordnance, the Director of Military Aeronautics, the Bureau of Aircraft Production, the quartermaster-general and the surgeon-general, these experts being consulted in regard to all pictures relating to their respective arms of the service. With their assistance a series of precedents was established and a set of regulations for the censorship of photographs was evolved. Among the pictures withheld from the public were those dealing with new inventions of military significance, such as radio telephony; with all examples of military and naval camouflage, and with the various new types of artillery, especially those on tractor mounts. Such photographs as were not released were placed in the archives of the War College to become a permanent part of the pictorial history of the war, while those which were passed were turned over to the Committee on Public Information for distribution to the various agencies which were in a position to give them the greatest publicity. There was also an informal, intimate, and extremely valuable service which the section was able to perform. As pictures were received from the A. E. F., a systematic effort was made to furnish to the relatives and friends of soldiers serving overseas copies of the photographs or sections of the films in which their loved ones appeared, of the hospitals in which they were being treated, or of the spots where they were buried. As a result of this official thoughtfulness, comfort was given to many a lonely wife, many an anxious parent.