LONDON SPY MANIA STORIES.

Auckland Star, Volume LXIII, Issue 209, 3 September 1932, Page 3 (Supplement)

LONDON SPY MANIA STORIES.

PROBLEMS FOR MILITARY INTELLIGENCE. DANCING GERMAN ON CITY ROOF DURING RAID—CONCRETE GUN PLATFORMS ON TENNIS COURTS — HIDDEN INSTRUCTIONS FOR INVADING ARMIES—PHILIP LASZLO DE LAMBOS. (By an Ex-Secret Service Officer.—All Eights Reserved.) (XO. IX.)

When spy mania gripped Britain, Military Intelligence waa faced with one of its most difficult and unwelcome problems. The work of the department and those co .operating with it, particularly the police, was often hampered by spy rumours. I do not know what really brought about this spy mania. To a large extent it must have been due to the fact that very few people knew that we had anything but an apology for a secret seryjce. Moreover, in sensational pre-war novels and in certain newspapers after the war had broken out, foreign spies were credited with almost superhuman powers an d skill. The fact remains that the department was inundated by rejjprts due to spy mania. Most people will remember the tennis courts in London which were supposed to mask concrete beds for guns. There was a ] S o the re-port that secret instructions for invading armies had been placed behind numbers of metal signs advertising a certain popular patent food. Groups of people all over the country ment days taking down these notices and searching for messages. Often the wall to which the notices .had been screwed had made marks on the back which, the gearchers were convinced were code messes. Actually the searchers found nothing of the slightest value, but all their wild suggestions had to be investigated. Often the authorities had to bow to popular clamour, with the result that people were interned for very little reason. Also, we found ourselves up against the emergency legislation, which had to be operated frequently with hardship. Artist's Dilemma. There is the outstanding case of Philip Taszlo de Lambos, the distinguished portrdt painter. A single act of ordinary human kindness made this man a victim of Tpy mania, and placed him within the meties of the military despotism which waTbound to treat great and small alike. ThU famous artist is of Hungarian origin but early in life he became a naturalised British subject. In 1900 he married into one of the'best families and ten years later he was created M.V.O At no tmie was there any question of his Seat loyalty to his adopted country. Yet fe waa interned. One evening he was sitting in his study when a servant announced that a man who had given no name was wStingwtside to see him. The man was Tsked into the room. He was dusty, fnsSUn, and unkempt. His clothes were torn, and his face showed that, he was Buffering and excited. He spoke,, and to the horror of the artist, revealed thlt he was an escaped Austrian prisoner of war. All he asked was that SSSSiISA sefi whether he should hand the man over to the authorities, or let him out in the morning and take a chance. In the end he Tlbwed his humanity to win, and he sent the fugitive off with some food in his pocket and a sovereign. A few hours later Philip de Laszlo s feelings were calmer, and he realised ne had done a very serious thing, -tie naa broken the law, but he did not attempt to hide his innocent breach, of the war s emergency legislation. Honourably, he communicated with the authorities and confessed.

Harmless Letters. There was a great fuss. This quiet and celebrated man who no one had even remotely suspected of enemy sympathies became the object of the deepest distrust. The Secret Service set to work, and discovered what on the face of'it appeared to be a fact of great moment. The artist waa communicating with people abroad. The sensation was even greater when it was discovered that for this purpose he Lad made use of the " diplomatic bag. Aβ a matter of fact, he was writing harmless letters to his relatives, and the courtesy of highly placed friends had enabled him to get the letters through diplomatic channels. Much, however, was made of these communications, and he -was interned as one "whose continuance at liberty was a danger to His Majesty s realm and people." Even men like Lord Balfour and Lord Eaher, his intimate friends, were unable to help him. They spent weeks exerting powerful influences, for they knew how preposterous it was to suppose that the public's suspicions were in any sense justified. They offered guarantees for the artist's good behaviour, but the technical charge was too much for them, and the famous man had to be interned. The internment was galling, but he survived it with philosophic calm, and within a few months of regaining his liberty he wae as popular as ever in London, and ftirther honours were . subsequently •Lowered upon him. London Riots. This case alone is sufficient to show what ■ometimes happened as a result of spy mania and emergency legislation, but fathers were more humorous. Some of them will still be remembered by those who served as special constables. In the early days of the war the following official communique was published, and in my view it did much to cause the wave of spy lnania:— "In carrying out their duties the military and police authorities would expect that persons having information of cases of euspected espionage would communicate the grounds of the suspicions to the local military auttiority or to the local police, who are in direct communication with the Special Intelligence Department, instead of causing unnecessary alarm and possibly giving warning to the spies by letters to the Press." The authorities began to receive a flood of communications from the public, containing the most fantastic allegations. Neighbours began to look askance at one another. Anybody with a foreign name was labelled a spy. Rioting broke out in London. The shops of small bakers, news scents, and tobacconists were wrecked, waiters were regarded with suspicion, and one Swiss waiter who had drawn a plan of his tables on the back of his menu card Was accused of having in his possession a plan of an important naval base.

When the Zepps. Came. Here are a few samples of the sort of allegation the authorities were asked to investigate by patriotic people suffering from bad attacks of spy mania:—lt was stated that on the occasion of one air raid a woman in Streatham had been seen signalling to the invading aeroplane with " a triangular instrument." Anybody who has seen the earth from a few thousand feet up will realise the utter futility of such a statement. Another case was that of a woman living in Bermondsey, who was a great dog lover. But her dogs did not like Zeppelin raids, and used —like a good many other dogs—to put their heads well back and howl dismally when aircraft approached. Her neighbours, remarking on the fact that the woman had a foreign name, told the authorities that she had trained the dogs to aid and direct the enemy by howling and barking whenever the Zeppelins came. There were, of course, many reports of signalling during air raids. In nearly all cases it was found that the wind or a child had flapped the dark curtains covering the windows, so that flashes of light were allowed to shine out for a few moments. One of the strangest epy mania stories was that which alleged that a respectable city merchant with a German name had been seen to dance on the roof of his office singing " Deutschland Über Alles" while bombs dropped all round the building during one of the daylight raids. In many cases the hand of M.I. was forced, and these people had to be interned for their own safety.