Miller Caldwell - A Reluctant Spy

She reached the MI6 offices, its entrance surrounded by sandbags. She walked smartly to the room where Dynes and Thornton worked and entered. Her British handlers were not, however, alone. In their company was a uniformed man, a colonel. They smiled and gave her a warm welcome. It seemed that they were genuinely pleased to see her.

The colonel, with a polished leather Sam Browne belt crossing over his chest from his right shoulder, sporting a neatly trimmed moustache and a mop of blond hair, stepped forward.

‘Miss Campbell, I am Colonel Myers, Intelligence Corps. I’m very pleased to meet you.’

She smiled as she shook his hand, glad he had used the name she had chosen to go by in Britain despite her many years of happiness with Willy in Hamburg. She simply had to forego that German name.

‘Hilda, please take a seat,’ Thornton said.

There was a purposeful air about Thornton. He had not offered his hand to shake. She sensed that was only because they had seen each other not so long ago. Her feeling was that he wished to indicate to the colonel that they were a team and not an acquaintance.

‘Hilda, Colonel Myers will now share some confidential news. News which I feel will please you,’ said Dynes. He sounded like a proud parent at a school prize giving.

‘Working in the field of counter-espionage is fraught with danger; I need not tell you that, Hilda – if you don’t mind me addressing you so.’

She shook her head, warming to this down-to-earth officer.

‘We have been sharing the intelligence you brought us with the American security services,’ he said. ‘They have made several arrests. Nancy Krause, Carl Jaeger, Max Becker, Barbara Hincks and Dave Simmons are all in custody, more will follow.’

‘Hincks and Simmons. I’ve never met them,’ she said in surprise.

‘No, an octopus has many tentacles,’ said Dynes.

She looked at him and he lowered his head, his lips twitching in embarrassment at his interruption.

‘The fact is we’ve broken a ring, the Duquesne Spy Ring. It will lead to thirty-three arrests in total, I believe. All were active spies on the East Coast of America from Massachusetts to Florida. They are all German sympathizers and were feeding the Reich with information to enable them to cause harm to the Allies. They will face the American judicial process. You, Hilda, started this work. It is a tremendous achievement.’

An achievement? During their time at Baden-Baden, she and the other trainees had worked along well together; indeed, she had come to think of Nancy Krause as a friend. Now, they were all under arrest. She could hardly take the credit for that; she even felt a little guilty for betraying them, even though she had known all along that they would be on opposite sides.

The colonel was looking at her expectantly. ‘Er… thank you,’ she said. ‘I had no idea that there was such a well established and large spy ring.’

The colonel explained that the agents who formed the Duquesne Ring were placed in key jobs in the United States in order to acquire information that could be used in the event of war, and to carry out acts of sabotage if the war reached American shores. One opened a restaurant, and used his position to milk his customers for information; another worked in a travel office so that he could report on any Allied ships crossing the Atlantic. Others worked as delivery people, to deliver secret messages alongside mundane letters and packages through the postal services. America was not at war, he reminded them, so there was no reason for regular intercepted mail. Yet another spy was a hairdresser, prising information out of seated customers with every cut of the hair. Frederick Joubert Duquesne, known as Fritz, a notorious agent of the Reich, controlled this American operation.

The colonel adjusted his tie, and Thornton spoke briefly. ‘Now here’s someone in a different role. Someone more like you, Hilda.’

She brought her chair nearer to the table and listened attentively.

‘He’s certainly one of the more interesting characters,’ began the colonel once more.

The character in question was a native German, William Sebold. He had served in the German army during World War 1 and left Germany in 1921, to work in industrial and aircraft plants throughout the United States and South America. On February 10, 1936, he became a naturalized citizen of the United States.

‘They all seem to be naturalized Americans. Their accents certainly suggest as much,’ Hilda recalled.

‘Indeed they are. Sebold returned to Germany in February 1939 to visit his ailing mother in Mulheim. You see a similarity with your own situation?’

‘Indeed, I do.’

‘On his arrival in Hamburg, he was approached by a member of the Gestapo, one Herr Gerhardt Eicke, who said that Sebold would be contacted in the near future. Sebold proceeded to Mulheim where he obtained employment,’ the colonel continued.

‘Eicke told me I would be contacted in the near future. He used those very words.’

William G. Sebold, they learned, was an interesting and valuable individual. Blackmail was their method to make him a spy for Germany, and he later became a double agent like herself; he helped the FBI gather evidence, but only after they had started to work on the information she had apparently supplied. When the war started in Europe, the FBI had given Sebold a shortwave radio to use at his flat in New York. He was able to discover what information Germany was sending its spies in the United States mainland and to control what Germany received.

She listened with great interest but wondered whether their work had indeed overlapped. ‘I thought my position in Portugal was designed to do this. Wasn’t I to get the messages from the States?’

‘This was a different set-up, Hilda. The messages Sebold intercepted from Germany came from U-boats lurking in the mid-Atlantic. You in Portugal received the best intelligence by static radio in America,’ said the colonel.

Therefore, it seemed, she and this Sebold had made different but equally useful contributions.

‘Sebold’s success as a counter-espionage agent was demonstrated by the successful prosecution of several German agents last week,’ said the colonel.

‘I think this calls for some sort of celebration,’ said Dynes. He picked up a bell that stood on the table and gave it a shake. After a few moments, the door opened and a lady in a white apron came in, carrying a silver tray on which stood four glasses of sherry. Dynes had clearly arranged this celebration and it seemed appropriate.

‘To more success and victory,’ toasted the colonel.

‘Success and victory,’ we all said in unison.

Coffee followed, and then Colonel Myers left with handshakes all around.

Hilda focussed on the bookcase that lined three of the walls. She strained her eyes to read some of the book titles and Dynes saw what she was doing.

‘By all means, do make use of the library. Then, when you are ready, you can leave your bag here. We will meet again at 2 p.m. prompt.’

‘So you’re setting me free for a couple of hours. Am I to find some accommodation?’

‘No, just some lunch and…’ He handed her a box; she realised it contained a gas mask. ‘I don’t suppose you have one?’ he added.

‘I do now,’ she replied with a mischievous grin.

‘As for your accommodation, that will depend on our meeting this afternoon.’ Thornton gave one of his penetrating looks which dissuaded her from asking any further questions. He would share his thoughts when he was ready. Meanwhile, lunch took precedence.

Outside, it was not really raining, but the fine misty drizzle seemed to add to the burden people were carrying. Everyone she passed had a gas mask around their necks or strung over their shoulder, like Hilda’s. Londoners were going about their business stoically, regardless of the war. She liked their attitude.