BRITAIN'S HUSH-HUSH MAN.

Auckland Star, Volume LXVIII, Issue 1, 2 January 1937, Page 6 (Supplement)

BRITAIN'S HUSH-HUSH MAN.

Sir Robert Vansittart's Many Roles.

THE SECRETS OF A SECRET SERVICE CHIEF.

(By C. PATRICK THOMPSON—Copyright.)

HAVING jumped hie Secret Service allocation from £180,000 to £250,000, John Bull is contemplating another increase; Sir Robert Vansittart can do with it. The charming Sir Robert, poet, playwright, novelist, diplomat, is officially Permanent Under-Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, and in that role exercises a general rule over Britain's foreign policy. But he also fulfils another role; he is head of the Secret Service. Of course nobody would dream of associating the distinguished and attractive Sir Robert with cracked safes, stolen plane, forged papers, microphones concealed in walls, 3'.irreptitious bribes, hasty flights over frontiers, shooting squads at dawn, and the executioner's automatic at midnight, corpses tumbled into quicklime in a hole in a political prison yard, and similiar bizarre events. Lamentable Happenings. As a matter of fact, nobody ever is linked with theao lamentable happenings. Two German frauleins are beheaded with the axe for selling copies of Reichswehr Ministry propaganda to a foreign agent. A British soldier of fortune is shot by a Soviet frontier guard while engaged in "smuggling operations." A lady and a gentleman of obscure nationality vanish when a 6in shell hits a speed-boat in which they are trying to slip out of a Japanese naval base. Somebody breaks into the Russian Embassy in Prague and steals the ambassador's code. An ■ ex-army man is given 15 years in the United States for imparting naval secrets to— whom? A British officer is seduced by a 6fewnan girl and cashiered and given five years for supplying a foreigner with military information. A German exofficer is caught collecting data about aircraft and aerodromes in England, and given a long term of imprisonment. M. Charles Magny's counter-espionage department of the French Surete Nationale in Paris grabs 22 persons, alleged members of an international spy gang of 60, and including three Americans. Former Lieut.-Commander John S. Farnsworth is arrested in the U.S.A. and charged with purveying confidential data to a foreign Power. Wo Protests An Ever Male. In these and sundry contemporary cases, there is never any international incident, because no Secret Service ever knows anything about it, and no protests are ever made. It is as well, for the whole structure of diplomacy would collapse if, aay, Dr. Herman Ooertz, German lawyer, convicted of espionage in Britain in the summer of 1990, and sentenced to a term of years in gaol, were traced publicly to someone higher-up in Berlin, with whom His Britannic Majesty's Permanent Under-Secretary for Foreign Affair* might find himself pleasantly dining a little later. And vice versa. Vansittart Is the only man living who knows all the Number Ones of the British Secret Service. Even the Premier is denied that knowledge. Parliament votes .the money he uses, but all it hears about the manner ot its spending is contained In the Treasury Chief's audit formula, which runs; "I certify that the amount shown in this account to have been expended is tupported by certificates from the responsible Ministers of the Crown." What strange and sinister tales lie concealed behind that formal mask of words 1 An Interesting race. A somewhat similar remark has been made In connection with the countenance of the diplomat whom the Chancellories and irreverent attaches call "the HushHush man." It is an interesting face. The mouth is tight, yet sensitive and mobile. The jaw is small, but tenacious. The nose is assertive and inquisitive. The brain pan is capacious. The deep-set eyes are watchful, penetrating, wary> under strong eyebrows cocked alertly—the whole head is streamlined, with hair brushed back and ears set, back and nose thrust forward— a d'Artagnan of diplomacy, indomitable formidable, but very shrewd and patient and adroit in defence and attack. In social contact, the brain is masked t by the cultivated charm of manner and the play of the features hides the formidable quality of the visage. But in repose the real Vansittart peeks out of a sharp, astute face, whose vertical lines flanking the mouth are deep as sword-slash scars. Educated at Eton, Vansittart "began his career as an attache at the Paris Embassy. Followed two years in Persia, three in Egypt, back to the Foreign Office for a spell, to Stockholm in wartime* and to Paris for the Peace Conference. These peace negotiations over, Foreign Minister Lord Curzon brought him home to be officially his right-hand / man. Vansittart , was 40, a diplomat of T9 years' standing, and he had just married an American wife,. Mrs. Gladys Robinson Duff, daughter of General William C. Heppenheimer", of- the United States Army. Premiers began to notice liim. Stanley Baldwin made him his principal private secretary. He doubled lh.« jrtrts of Foreign Office chief and Piim:iW* rijrhthand man. ' When Ea:n.<nv MnrDonald ousted Baldwin from the Premiership, he took over Vansittart, who was at his side, and ear, in Washington in 1929. Can't Do Without Him. They can't do without him, his talents and accumulated knowledge. The day has gone when Secret Service work meant mainly getting hold of details Of secret armaments, general staff plans, mine-field charts. Army and navy and lr force have each their separate intelligence branches, and methods of probing the technical secrets of other Powers. A special branch of Scotland Yard's celebrated Criminal Investigation Department takes care of counterespionage. But the Government chiefs want to know about key men in foreign States. Is this regime as strong as it looks? Is that dictator losing his grip, and if he goes, who follows? What is the real power of this expansionist .group ? What does the war party plan, and think?'

Such questions would defeat the oldfasliioWd Secret Service chief. They are routine matters for the permanent head of a Foreign Office being fed with routine and special news from the diplomatic stations and special agents all the time. He has qualities this remarkable man, which are not entirely English. Possibly for the clue to his mental equipment, his flair, one must go back to that forbear of his who was born in Danzig in 1650—Peter van Sittard. Playwright and Poet. Vansittart has paid ancestral homage to him in one of his books, "John Stuart." A characteristic whimsy. It professed to be a narrative of the career of a natural son of King Charles 11. Antiquaries, interested, accepted it as a result of research. Learned papers were written on the origin of the story. The author presently sought to dispel the mystery by announcing that it was entirely a work of the imagination. But a doubt remained. A brace of his plays were produced in London just before the war; while another of his plays, done in French, ran 100 nights at the Theatre Moliere in Paris. "Songs and Satires" and "The Singing Caravan" are his two best-known books of poems. There is some unpublished verse. One piece is inscribed in the book he gave to his first wife. This Is your lover's labour, And he that lives for yon, Shall have his God for neighbour. And love him too. Another poem of his caused some perturbation among the delegates at an important League meeting last year. Vansittart is often the premier of foreign minister's "shadow." On this occasion he had accompanied Foreign Minister Hoare to Qeneva, and, during the speeches, was observed intently making

notes. As one delegate nudged another, attention drifted away from the oratory and concentrated surreptitiously on Britain's hush-hush man. What was he doing? Drafting a decisive change in the speech of his political chief, and if so, what? At last he stopped writing and smiled. He seemed pleased with his effort. Was Britain going to make a demarche—or a rapprochement? A delegate rose "and passed strategically behind the Vansittart chair. He glanced over the Vansittart shoulder and blinked. Vansittart had been compiling a little French poem, rather ribald. Bone in His Brat Manner. His wife died suddenly seven years after their marriage. Three years later he decided to marry again. It was done In his best manner. Nobody knew anything about it, not even his friends, until it was all over. Lady Colville Barclay, widowed, beautiful, feminine, sympathetic and wealthy, motored from town to the picturesque little village of Denham. There Sir Robert, now 48, awaited her with the clergyman in-the ivy-clad church. Her eldest son gave the bride away; her second son (she has three by her first marriage) acted as the groom's best man. Newspaper editors were irate when thsy heard what they had missed. In July of this 'year he decided to spend his summer holiday in Berlin while the Olympic Games were on. A well-known British correspondent, friendly with Dr. Ooehbels, dropped in on the Reich propaganda Minister when he found that Vansittart was lined up to see everybody who is anybody in the Nazi hierarchy during his Berlin sojourn. "What is all this?" he demanded. "Don't itell me this is just a private visit! He had a long pow-wow with. Hitler to-day. Nearly two hours. That's a long time for the Rekhfeitrher to talk to anyone except a crowd. Whst did they talk about—the Games and the weather?" "They hare another topic in common," observed Goebbels. . "I thought so. Novr tell me what it is." "It is not what you think it is. They are both authors. They have been talking about royalties You must remember that our leader's sole income comes from his book, "Mein Kampf." I understand that Sir Robert— " "Good-bye," said the British correspondent. "Good-bye," said Dr. Goebbels, "and ' pleasant dreams."