Spying brings with it a constant wearing strain of nerves and mind,
seeing that it involves certain death for a false step in war or
imprisonment in peace. The Government promises to give no help
whatever to its servant if caught. He is warned to keep no notes, to
confide in no one, to use disguises where necessary, and to shift for
himself entirely.
[Illustration: _The matter of disguise is not so much one of
theatrical make-up as of being able to secure a totally different
character in voice and mannerisms, and especially of gait in walking
and appearance from behind. A man may effect a wonderful disguise in
front, yet be instantly recognised by a keen eye from behind. This is
a point which is frequently forgotten by beginners, and yet is one
of the most important. The first and third figures show an effective
make-up in front, but the second figure, a back-view, shows how easily
the man may be recognised by a person behind him. The fourth and fifth
sketches show, by means of dotted lines, how the "back-view" can be
altered by change of clothing and gait._]
The matter of disguise is not so much one of a theatrical
make-up--although this is undoubtedly a useful art--as of being
able to assume a totally different character, change of voice and
mannerisms, especially of gait in walking and appearance from behind.
This point is so often forgotten by beginners, and yet it is one of
the most important.
I was at one time watched by a detective who one day was a
soldierly-looking fellow and the next an invalid with a patch over
his eye. I could not believe it was the same man until I watched him
from behind and saw him walking, when at once his individuality was
apparent.
For mannerisms, a spy has by practice to be able to show an impediment
in his speech one day, whereas the next a wiggle of an eyelid or a
snuffling at the nose will make him appear a totally different being.
For a quick change, it is wonderful what difference is made by merely
altering your hat and necktie. It is usual for a person addressing
another to take note of his necktie, and probably of his hat, if of
nothing else, and thus it is often useful to carry a necktie and a
cap of totally different hue from that which you are wearing, ready to
change immediately in order to escape recognition a few minutes later.
[Illustration: _This illustration shows how the writer was able to
disguise himself at very short notice when he observed that he was
recognised on a railway station. The first sketch shows him as he
entered a waiting-room shortly after his suspicions were aroused.
The second depicts him on his exit a few minutes later. The disguise,
simple though it may seem, was entirely successful._]
I learnt this incidentally through being interviewed some years ago at
a railway station. A few minutes after the ordeal I found myself close
up to my interviewer, when he was re-telling the incident to a brother
journalist, who was also eager to find me. "He is down there, in one
of the last carriages of the train. You will know him at once; he is
wearing a green Homburg hat and a red tie, and a black coat."
Fortunately I had a grey overcoat on my arm, in which was a travelling
cap and a comforter. Diving into the waiting-room, I effected a "quick
change" into these, crammed my hat into my pocket, and tottered back,
with an invalid shuffle, to my carriage. I re-entered it under the
nose of the waiting reporter without being suspected, and presently
had the pleasure of being carried away before him unassailed.
On a recent occasion in my knowledge a man was hunted down into a back
street which was a _cul-de-sac_, with no exit from it. He turned into
the door of a warehouse and went up some flights of stairs, hoping to
find a refuge, but, finding none, he turned back and came down again
and faced the crowd which was waiting outside, uncertain which house
he had entered.
By assuming extreme lameness in one leg, hunching up one shoulder,
and jamming his hat down over a distorted-looking face, he was able
to limp boldly down among them without one of them suspecting his
individuality.
In regard to disguises, hair on the face--such as moustache or
beard--are very usually resorted to for altering a man's appearance
but these are perfectly useless in the eye of a trained detective
unless the eyebrows also are changed in some way.
[Illustration: _Another instance of how an effective disguise can be
assumed on the spur of the moment. This disguise was effected in two
minutes._]
[Illustration: _The use of hair in disguising the face is perfectly
useless unless the eyebrows are considerably changed. The brow and the
back of the head are also extremely important factors in the art of
disguise._
_The second picture shows the effect of "improving" the eyebrows of
the face on the left, and also of raising the hair on the brow, while
the third sketch shows what a difference the addition of a beard and
extra hair on the back of the head, can make._]
I remember meeting a man on the veldt in South Africa bronzed and
bearded, who came to me and said that he had been at school with one
of my name. As he thrust his hat back on his head I at once recognised
the brow which I had last seen at Charterhouse some twenty-five years
before, and the name and nickname at once sprang to my lips. "Why, you
are Liar Jones," I exclaimed. He said, "My name is Jones, but I was
not aware of the 'Liar.'"
"In altering your face you must remember that 'improved' eyebrows
alter the expression of the face more than any beards, shaving, etc.
Tattoo marks can be painted on the hands or arms, to be washed off
when you change your disguise.... Disguising by beginners is almost
invariably overdone in front and not enough behind.... Before
attempting to be a spy first set yourself to catch a spy, and thus
learn what faults to avoid as likely to give you away." [_Aids to
Scouting_, p. 136.]
It fell to my lot at one time to live as a plumber in South-east
London, and I grew a small "goatee" beard, which was rather in vogue
amongst men of that class at that time.
One day, in walking past the Naval and Military Club in Piccadilly
in my workman's get-up, I passed an old friend, a major in the
Horse Artillery, and almost without thinking I accosted him by his
regimental nickname. He stared and wondered, and then supposed that I
had been a man in his battery, and could not believe his eyes when I
revealed my identity.
I was never suspected by those among whom I went, and with whom I
became intimate. I had nominally injured my arm in an accident and
carried it in a sling, and was thus unable to work, or what was also a
blessing, to join in fights in which my friends from time to time got
involved. My special companion was one Jim Bates, a carpenter. I lost
sight of him for some years, and when next I met him he was one of the
crowd at a review at Aldershot, where I was in full rig as an Hussar
officer. It was difficult to persuade him that I was his former friend
the plumber.
Later on, when employed on a reconnaissance mission in South Africa,
I had grown a red beard to an extent that would have disguised me from
my own mother. Coming out of the post office of a small country town,
to my surprise I came up against the Colonel of my regiment, who was
there for an outing. I at once--forgetting my disguise--accosted him
with a cheery "Hullo, Colonel, I didn't know you were here," and
he turned on me and stared for a minute or two, and then responded
huffily that he did not know who I was. As he did not appear to want
to, I went my ways, and only reminded him months later of our brief
meeting!