INITIATION TO ACTIVE WORK
CROSSING THE NORTH SEA--A MEMORABLE MEETING--INSTRUCTIONS--ON A
CARGO BOAT--SNOWSTORMS--FALSE ALARM--DANISH PROFITEERS--ENGLISH
CONSUL PROFITEERING IN FOOD TO GERMANY--HORSE-SMUGGLING--MEETING MY
C.O.--BLOODED.
The only open route to Northern Europe which members of belligerent
nations could safely take was through Bergen in Norway. The Wilson Line
from Hull to Christiania continued to run one weekly boat regularly,
which carried mails, general cargo, and an occasional passenger. It was
considered advisable by most people to avoid taking this boat.
From Newcastle a Norwegian Company ran a line of small steamers daily,
which had not been molested by submarines or warships. They were
mail-boats, and although their accommodation and fittings were far from
up-to-date, and travellers had to look after themselves much more than
they should have been called upon to do, they appeared to be crowded
each trip. The neutral flag and the shortest direct passage was
responsible for this.
There were many other available ways of crossing the North Sea open to
me, and no restrictions as to route had been laid down. I had simply to
visit a certain hotel in a certain town, in a certain country, at a
certain hour, on a certain date--arranged well ahead. The margin of time
allowed was ample for a crossing by sail if desired.
With a passport, a revolver, a bundle of English banknotes (of my own
providing), and as little luggage as possible, I made my way towards
Scotland to take ship for Norway and the beyond.
There were three vessels which sailed from the port of embarkation I
selected, two Norwegians and a Swede. One of the former was fortunately
taken. It was certainly fortunate, because the latter was blown up and
sunk by a mine within a few hours of her departure. Such is the luck of
war.
The voyage across the North Sea was uneventful. It was rough, as it
generally is. The passengers were few. They were almost entirely Russian
Poles; I was the only Englishman on board, and there was one Japanese.
All were ill with sea-sickness, which was perhaps accentuated by a
deadly fear of mines and torpedoes. Few slept, less ate, and as they
were charged for the meals they did not consume the owners must have
made money, more particularly so when it is remembered that fifty per
cent. extra was charged in addition to the ordinary fares, to cover war
risks.
The sea seemed to be utterly devoid of life. Not a sail, not a column of
smoke, nor even a bird was sighted until the ship emerged from a
fog-bank, wherein she had rolled for many hours broadside on, within a
few miles of the outer island-barrier of the Norwegian coast.
To the ultimate intense relief of everybody the fog lifted, and a few
hours afterwards a small fishing-town on the south-west of Norway was
reached. Cargo was discharged, more cargo was taken on board, and again
the chains rattled in the hawser pipes; the engines throbbed and the
siren aroused echoes from the rocks around as the voyage was renewed
northwards.
Later in the day other towns were reached, and similar scenes repeated,
until near midnight the lights of the historic port of Bergen danced in
the distance.
Securing the services of a friendly native, one of the numerous
hangers-on who flit round the quays of seaport towns in every land in
the hope of picking up money with the least possible exertion expended
to earn it, I made my way to a quiet hostelry in the quietest part of
the pleasant old town and installed myself as comfortably as
circumstances permitted.
At the appointed place and hour, I strolled casually into the entrance
hall of a certain hotel and stood apparently puzzling over the railway
and steamboat time-tables which were hanging on the wall. Several people
were in evidence, but no one seemed to be particularly interested in
anyone else. I had been there quite a time, and was wondering how I
could explain my presence in order to excuse and justify a prolonged
lingering, when I observed a small-built, quiet inoffensive-looking
young man cross the hall and stop near the hotel register.
Absent-mindedly he tapped his teeth with his pince-nez, and muttered to
himself and half aloud, "I wonder if Mr. Jim has called for that
letter."
Now "Mr. Jim" was the password I had been instructed to listen for. The
unknown was to give me certain orders. Without them I would have been
like a ship in a gale minus the rudder.
The little man never looked at me nor even my way. He had stepped near
enough so that I could overhear his _sotto voce_, also within range of
two or three others who were congregated in the hall. His utterance was
low, but it was as clear as a bell, and he spoke in Norwegian.
No one took any notice of him or his remark. This, however, appeared to
trouble him not a bit. Adjusting his glasses he pulled a newspaper out
of his coat pocket and proceeded to make himself comfortable on a settee
in a remote corner, where he could observe all that passed and all who
came or went; provided he wished so to interest himself should the
contents of his paper fail to hold his attention.
Having marked down the man there was no need to hasten matters. Caution
at one's initiation is generally advantageous. Ten minutes later I
seated myself on the same settee as the stranger and also became
absorbed in a newspaper. Assuring myself that no one was within earshot
except the little gentleman before referred to, I murmured soft and low,
whilst I still appeared to be reading the paper: "I know Mr. Jim. Can I
give him the letter for you?"
"Who sent you to ask for it?" the stranger queried. I named a name which
was a countersign. "For whom does Mr. Jim require it?" I gave the third
and final word which proved beyond doubt my title to the precious
document in question.
During this short conversation both of us had been studying our
news-sheets, and unless an observer had been stationed within a few feet
of us, nothing transpired that could have given the smallest clue to the
fact that any communication had passed.
With no sign of recognition the little man got up to go. He left his
paper on the seat, and in passing me he whispered: "You will find the
letter in my _Evening News_. Good luck to you."
In the privacy of a bedroom the letter was opened. It was type-written,
with no address and no signature. It contained instructions to proceed
to another hotel two full days' journey away, where I was to look out
for, and make the acquaintance of, a certain English Staff Officer to
whom I had to deliver my dispatches.
It was fortunate I had provided myself with plenty of money. The ten
pounds for preliminary expenses, which was all I had been given, was
already over-exhausted, and travelling in those days of war scares, high
freights, and shortage of accommodation, was far more expensive than the
gentlemen who sit in easy-chairs at home would believe.
I was the only passenger on a semi-cargo boat which sailed next day for
the port desired. The weather was awful. Severe frost coated the deck
and rigging with ice, in places inches thick. Heavy snowstorms impeded
navigation, whilst again and again the vessel had to lay to for hours at
a stretch before her captain dare make any attempt at headway. Wrecks
were continually passed, not cheery encouragement to one's spirits;
whilst, generally speaking, that two days' voyage was about as severe a
shaking up as anyone could possibly expect to receive at any time, or
anywhere, during a year or more at sea.
During the night, about 2.0 a.m., the engines suddenly ceased running.
Feet pattered up and down the deck and everyone on board instinctively
became aware that something unusual had happened. Slipping on a thick
overcoat and a small Norwegian forage cap, I cautiously negotiated the
companion-way. I suspected a German war-vessel had held up the ship. If
so, I had no desire to meet any members of a boarding party until I had
destroyed the sealed dispatch entrusted to me. After turning over
possibilities in my mind I had decided to make use of the exhaust pipe
of the lavatory. It was therefore essential that one's lines of retreat
should be kept open without fear of being cut off.
It transpired, however, that my fears were groundless. The captain had
suddenly been taken ill, and an immediate operation seemed to the first
mate necessary as the only chance of saving his life. The ship had,
therefore, run to the neighbourhood of an island whereon a doctor was
known to reside, and the unfortunate captain was about to be conveyed
ashore.
Poor chap! It subsequently transpired that he died the following day in
spite of every effort to save him.
During the voyage the ship touched at various small stations to deliver
and receive cargo. Sometimes a few passengers would come aboard,
generally for short trips. At one place a couple of Danes rushed over
the gangway as it was being dropped preparatory to departure. They had
made a record journey across the mountains, and exhibited intense
anxiety for expedition. They wanted to reach rail-head in order that
they could get back to their own country as soon as it was possible.
Why? That one little word gave something to concentrate one's thoughts
upon during the long hours at sea.
Danes, generally speaking, are heavy drinkers. They have a fondness for
spirits, particularly with their coffee. It was advisable to wait until
after the midday meal, when it was customary to repair to the
smoke-room, if further curiosity was to be satisfied. Securing a corner
seat I cocked up both my legs on to the settee and buried myself in a
book--the Sagas of the North. After ostentatiously appearing to drink a
number of small glasses of spirits, signs of somnolescence followed.
Soon the book dropped with a bang on the floor and intermittent snoring
became almost a nuisance to the only two other occupants of the saloon,
the Danish travellers.
The confined space of the apartment caused them by compulsion to sit
within a few feet of where I was lying. They had been whispering in so
low a tone that not a word could be heard. As the snoring increased they
raised their voices. Under the impression that the sleep was probably
alcoholic, they were soon discussing their affairs in distinctly audible
tones. And very interesting business it turned out to be.
Shortly, it concerned the purchase, transport, and delivery of some
hundreds of horses which they had been buying for and on behalf of, or
for resale to, the German Government. This business had apparently been
going on for some time. Denmark and Sweden had been early denuded of all
available horseflesh at enormous prices. Norway was now being swept
clean.
The two travellers were discussing the probabilities of any action being
taken by the British Minister at ---- to attempt to veto or put what
obstacles he was capable of in the way of this traffic.
One of the twain was a fat, good-natured man whom nothing seemed to
trouble. The other was thin and dyspeptic looking, who seemed suspicious
of his own shadow.
"He'll never be fool enough to sit quiet under the thousands we are
sending over," the latter remarked.
"Oh, he'll never trouble. Look at Consul ---- at ----. Ever since the
war broke out he has been sending hundreds of thousands of barrels of
herrings to Germany. He is shipping them off now, as fast as he can get
them. And, the devil burn me, he's the English Consul. The Minister has
never stopped him. Why should he trouble us?"
"But has he not power to remove him?" asked the thin man.
"Of course he has," replied fatty. "Ministers appoint and remove Consuls
as they please. And when an English Consul is allowed to rake in a
fortune in a few months, supplying the Germans with food, how can you
argue he will stop us dealing in horses _to go to Denmark_?"
"Anyhow, the sooner we can get ours through the more relieved I shall
be," grunted the other. "It will take them two days to reach ----, and
once they are shipped it's all right."
Their conversation drifted to other topics, and although I waited
patiently on the sofa for another hour nothing further of importance was
divulged. Some time after this an exceptionally heavy sea struck the
vessel, causing her to roll so heavily that everything on the tables was
spilt, whilst I was pitched, _nolens volens_, amongst the spittoons on
the floor. This foretaste of further rocking to come sent all three of
us to our respective berths.
On landing at the port of ---- I lost no time in searching for my
unknown Commanding Officer. The hotel which had been named to me was a
good one, its guests included many nationalities. At dinner I spotted
three men of military aspect, each of whom might well be the gentleman
in question. Coffee and a cigar in the lounge failed to procure any sign
of the expectant one; I therefore strolled out into the town to make a
few small purchases.
An hour later I returned. Only three people now occupied the lounge. One
of them undoubtedly was an army officer belonging to a smart regiment,
but it would have been difficult to guess to what country he belonged. A
first venture would probably have elicited German as the answer. All the
more reason for double caution, thought I to myself.
In nonchalant fashion I overhauled the mass of periodicals upon the
tables, and having selected a local one, settled myself down at ease in
a long deck-chair under a potted palm to watch and wait for possible
developments.
In half an hour's time two of the visitors departed, whereupon my
_vis-à-vis_ looked hard at me over the top of his newspaper and elevated
both eyebrows. I nodded. He smiled, and with a slight indication of the
head, implying that he wished to be followed, slowly left the room and
proceeded up the grand stairway. Waiting perhaps a quarter of an hour I
also took the same route. The first and second landings were devoid of
life. On the third I noticed a half-open door, which I entered as though
the room were my own; whilst I was quite prepared to apologise if a
mistake was made in my so doing.
Here, however, I found my friend of the elevating eyebrows, who received
me cordially, and I was introduced to his wife as an Englishman recently
arrived. I gave the name in which I had booked on arrival; my
newly-found friend did the same. This, of course, was not sufficient.
For some little time we talked of trivialities and verbally fenced, and
thrust, and parried, the while certain secret passwords were casually
introduced and exchanged in a somewhat similar manner as has before been
narrated in connection with the little gentleman at Bergen. When
assurance had become doubly sure, the door was locked and bolted, the
dispatch handed over, and the story of the horses told.
Thus it came to pass that I was first "blooded" in the Foreign Secret
Service of His Britannic Majesty's Government.