The Secrets of the German War Office | Page 6

from the start and learn it well.
Do not ask questions. Do not talk. Think! You will soon learn that there
are many unwritten laws attached to this Service."
I never forgot that. It was my first lesson in Secret Service.

Chapter II.
The Making of a Secret Agent

The average man or woman has only a hazy idea what European Secret
Service and Espionage really means and accomplishes. Short stories
and novels, written in a background of diplomacy and secret agents,
have given the public vague impressions about the world of spies. But
this is the first real unvarnished account of the system; the class of men
and women employed; the means used to obtain the desired results and
the risks run by those connected with this service. Since the days of
Moses who employed spies in Canaan, to Napoleon Bonaparte, who
inaugurated the first thorough system of political espionage, potentates,
powerful ministers and heads of departments have found it necessary to
obtain early and correct information other than through the usual
official channels. To gain this knowledge they have to employ persons
unknown and unrecognized in official circles. A recognized official
such as an ambassador or a secretary of legation, envoys
plenipotentiary and consuls, would not be able to gain the information
sought, as naturally everybody is on their guard against them.
Moreover, official etiquette prevents an ambassador or consul from
acting in such a capacity.
In this age of rapid developments the need of quick and accurate
information is even more pressing. Europe to-day is a sort of armed
camp, composed of a number of nations of fairly equal strength, in
which the units are more or less afraid of each other. Mutual distrust
and conflicting interests compel Germany, England, France and Russia
to spend billions of money each year on armaments. Germany builds
one battleship; England lays down two; France adds ten battalions to
her army; Germany adds twenty. So the relative strength keeps on a fair
level. But with rapid constructions, new inventions of weapons, armor,
aerial craft, this apparent equality is constantly disturbed. Here also
enters the personal policy and ambitions and pet schemes of the
individual heads of nations and their cabinets. Because there is a
constant fear of being outdistanced, every government in Europe is
trying its utmost to get ahead of the other. They, hence, keep a stringent
watch on each other's movements. This is possible only by an efficient
system of espionage, by trained men and women, willing to run the
risks attached to this sort of work.
For risks there are. I have been imprisoned twice, once in the Balkans
at Belgrade, once in England. I have been attacked five times and bear

the marks of the wounds to this day. Escapes I have had by the dozen.
All my missions were not successes, more often, failures, and the
failures are often fatal. For instance:
Early in the morning of June 11, 1903, the plot which had been
brewing in Servia ended with the assassination of the king, queen,
ministers and members of the royal household of Servia. I shall not go
into the undercurrent political significance of these atrocities as I had
no active part in them, but I was sent down by my government later to
ascertain as far as possible the prime movers in the intrigue which
pointed to Colonel Mashin and a gang of officers of the Sixth Regiment.
All these regicides received Russian pay, for King Alexander had
become dangerous to Russia, because of his flirting with Austria.
Besides, his own idiotic behavior and the flagrant indiscretions of
Queen Draga had by no means endeared him to his people.
I stuck my nose into a regular hornets' nest and soon found myself in a
most dangerous position. I was arrested by the provisional government
on the order of Lieutenant Colonel Niglitsch on a most flimsy charge of
traveling with false passports. In those times arrests and executions
were the order of the day. The old Servian proverb of "Od Roba Ikad Iz
Groba Nikad" (Out of prison, yes; out of the grave, never) was fully
acted upon. There were really no incriminating papers of any
description upon me, but my being seen and associating with persons
opposed to the provisional government was quite enough to place me
before a drumhead court-martial.
I was sitting in the Café Petit Parisien with Lieutenant Nikolevitch
and Mons Krastov, a merchant of Belgrade, when a file of soldiers in
charge of an officer pulled us out of our chairs and without any further
ado marched us to the Citadel. The next morning we were taken
separately into a small room where three men in the uniform of
colonels were seated at a small iron table. No questions were asked.