Horst Goltz - My Adventures as a German Secret Service Agent

I did just that. I did it quite frankly and without a thought of prying. I saw that the sheets were small-scale maps. They were the maps of a fort, and the names upon them were written both in French and in German. The thrill of a great discovery shot all through me. It flashed upon me that I had heard Willi say that during the previous summer Franz had spent a long furlough in the Argonne section of France. He had been fishing and botanising so Willi had said. Indeed, only the night before Franz himself had told us stories of the sport there; and all his family had accepted the stories at their face value. So had I until that moment when I stood beside his desk and saw the plans of a French field fortress. Then I knew the truth. Lieutenant Franz von Heiden was doing important work so confidential that even his family must be kept in ignorance about it for the Intelligence Department of the German General Staff. Like me, he was entitled to the gloriously shameful name of spy!

If I had obeyed my natural impulse to rush into Franz's room and exchange fraternal greetings with this new colleague of the secret service, so romantically discovered, he might have saved himself. Instead, something made me play the innocent and be the innocent, too, as far as intent was concerned.

When Franz returned, dressed for the shoot, I was standing looking out of his window, and I said nothing about my discovery.

We had our rabbit shoot that day. We crowded all the fun and energy possible into it. It was our last day together, and by sundown I felt as close to Franz von Heiden as though he were my own brother. A few days later Willi and I went back to Gross Lichterfelde.

Shortly after I returned from my Christmas leave my tutor sent for me. He even recognised the amenities of the occasion enough to unbend a little and greeted me with a trace of mechanical friendliness.

"I trust you had a pleasant holiday," he said; "you told me, did you not, that you were to spend it at the Baron von Heiden's?"

That touch of friendliness was the occasion of my tragic error. I remember that I plunged into a boisterous description of my vacation, of the pleasant days in the country, of the shooting, of Franz. As my tutor listened, with a tolerant air, I told him what a splendid fellow Franz was, how cleverly he talked and how diligently he worked. And then, with a rash innocence for which I have never forgiven myself, I told him of what I had seen on that day of the rabbit shooting of the maps on the table. Franz was one of us!

But my tutor was not interested. Abruptly he interrupted my burst of gossip; and soon after that he plunged me into an exam, in spoken French. My progress in that seemed his only preoccupation.

A month later Willi von Heiden staggered into my room. "Franz is dead!" he said.

The brilliant young lieutenant, Franz von Heiden, had come to a sudden and shocking end. He was shot dead in a duel. His opponent was a brother officer, a Captain von Frentzen. The "Court of Honour "of the regiment had approved of the duel and it was reported that the affair was carried out in accordance with the German code.

Later I learned the story. Captain von Frentzen was suddenly attached to the same regiment as Franz. His transfer was a cause of great surprise to the officers and of deep displeasure to them, for the captain had a notorious reputation as a duellist. Naturally the officers, Franz among them, had ignored him, trying to force him out of the regiment. Upon the night of a regimental dance the situation came to a head.

In response to the gesture of a lady's fan Franz crossed the ball-room hurriedly. He was caught in a sudden swirl of dancers and accidentally stepped on Captain von Frentzen's foot. In the presence of the whole company von Frentzen dealt Franz a stinging slap in the face.

'Apparently," he sneered, "you compel me to teach you manners!"

Franz looked at him, amazed and furious. There was nothing that he had done which warranted von Frentzen's action. It was an outrage a deadly insult. There was but one thing to do. A duel was arranged.

To understand more of this incident you must understand the unyielding code of honour of the German officer. Franz von Heiden's original offence had been so very slight that even had he refused to apologise to Frentzen the consequences might not have been serious. But Frentzen's blow given in public was quite a different matter. It was a mortal affront. I heard that Franz's captain had been in a rage about it.

"My best lieutenant!" he had said to the colonel. "An extremely valuable man. To be made to fight a duel with that worthless butcher, von Frentzen. Shameful! God knows that laws are sometimes utterly unreasonable judged by many of our ideas, as officers are equally senseless. I have racked my brain to find a way out of this difficulty, but it seems impossible. Can't you do something to interfere?"

The colonel looked at him steadily. "Your honest opinion; is von Heiden's honour affected by Frentzen's action?"

There was nothing Franz's captain could do but reply "Yes."

The duel was held on the pistol practice grounds of the garrison, a smooth, grassy place, surrounded by high bushes; at the lower end there was a shed built of strong boards, in which tools and targets were stored. At daybreak Franz von Heiden and his second dismounted at the shed and fastened their horses by the bridle. They stood side by side, looking down the road, along which a carriage was coming. Contain von Frentzen, his second, and the regimental surgeon got out. Sharp polite greetings were exchanged. On the faces of the seconds there was a singular expression of uneasiness, but Frentzen looked as though he were there for some guilty purpose. The prescribed attempts at reconciliation failed. The surgeon measured off 'the distance. He was a long-legged man and made the fifteen paces as lengthy as possible.

Just at this moment the sun came up fully.

Pistols were loaded and given to Franz and Trentzen. Fifteen paces apart the two men faced each other. One of the seconds drew out his watch, glanced at it and said, "I shall count; ready, one! then three seconds; two! and again three seconds; then, stop! Between one and stop the gentlemen may fire."

He glanced round once more. The four officers stood motionless in the level light of the dawn. He began to count. Presently Franz von Heiden was stretched out upon the ground, his blue eyes staring up into the new day. He lay still. . . .

When I heard that story I ceased to be a boy. My outlook on the future had been that of an irresponsible gamester, undergoing initiation into the gayest and most exciting sports. All at once my eyes were hideously opened and I looked down into the pit that the German secret service had prepared for Franz von Heiden, and knew I was the cause of it. It was terrible! By leaving that map where I could see it Franz von Heiden had been guilty of an unforgivable breach of trust. By his carelessness he had let someone know that the Intelligence Department of the General Staff had procured the plans of a French fortress in the Argonne. Wherefore, according to the iron law of that soulless war machine, Franz von Heiden must die.

And this is the sinister way it works. Trace it! I innocently betray him to my tutor, an official of the Secret Diplomatic Service. A few days later one of the deadliest pistol shots in the German army is transferred to Franz's regiment. A duel is forced upon him and he is shot down in cold blood.

Not long after the news of the duel, my tutor sent for me. "Is it not a curious coincidence," he began, his cold grey eyes boring into mine, "that the last time you were here we spoke of Lieutenant Franz von Heiden? The next time you come to see me he is dead. I understand that certain rumours are in circulation about the way he died. Some of them may have already come to your notice. I caution you to pay no attention whatever to such silly statements. Remember that a Court of Honour of an honourable regiment of the Prussian Guards has vouched for the fact that Lieutenant von Heiden's quarrel with Captain von Frentzen and the unfortunate duel that followed were conducted in accordance with the officers' code of the Imperial Army."