Part 8 (1/2)

”Sent your housemaid Sarah Jones to Felixstowe 4 o'clock this afternoon,”

on being coded would read:

”Five submarines pa.s.sed Lowestoft at 4 o'clock this afternoon steaming south.”

Any reference to an illness meant that damage had been done, or that a vessel had been adversely affected to some extent. Any reference to a marriage or engagement meant that a combat or battle had taken place.

”In bed” conveyed the news that a s.h.i.+p or s.h.i.+ps had been sunk. ”Put to bed” meant sunk, annihilation, or defeat, according to the context; mention of ”delirium or head sickness” conveyed suspicions, or suspicious circ.u.mstances; ”doctor called in” that the enemy (or others, as the context might convey) had retired, or been put to flight, whilst any direct, or indirect, reference to ”remaining here, or at some named place,” that the object or objects in question were still there or likely to remain.

The above-mentioned outline should be sufficient to convey to the reader an idea of how the stunt worked out in practice.

That these messages were often tapped and became the subject of racking headaches to the code decipherers who attempted to unravel them, was quite probable. When we could we tried on the same thing ourselves; such was considered only fair in love as well as in war. Lady telegraph and telephone operators are sometimes amenable to flattery and judiciously administered attentions. It is also within the bounds of possibility that an occasional one might be met with who might not object to test a communication with a semblance of reason; whilst one of the most interesting enemy codes we managed to intercept during our rambles was confined to the limits of a postage-stamp. It meant not only intercepting the letter or postcard but having to unstick the stamp and test it before the message could be copied.

It is not at all necessary, however, to pursue this subject further, but once upon a time during the continuance of this war a certain message was handed in at a certain telegraph office in Holland to cable to a certain address in the U.S.A., which ran as follows:

”Father dead.”

The telegraph operator, for some reason which we need not trouble to inquire into, altered the wording to ”Father deceased,” and then despatched the message in the usual manner.

Immediately came back the reply:

”Is father really dead _or only deceased_?”

The following up of that simple message cost one Government a considerable sum of money, but it was well worth the outlay.

To those who seek the sunny side of life, humour can be found in all things. Once at a funeral, when the author was broken in body and soul with the painful agony of dry tears, kind Providence sent relief from an unexpected quarter. In the pew immediately in front were seated two mourners, one a tiny man, the other about 350 lbs. in weight, whose head was nearly as big as the puny man's whole body. On leaving the church for the graveside each took the other's hat by mistake and they got separated in the crowd. At the close of the service they unconsciously and solemnly put on the hats they respectively held. That of the tiny man did not find resting-place until it had covered his head, ears, and face, and settled on his shoulders. That of the enormously fat man looked like a pea on a drum.

Likewise it was with our local code messages. Their use in practice was often the innocent cause of much trouble; more often, perhaps, the source of some humour. The gentle cherub who had undertaken the collection of messages and who has recently been hereinbefore referred to, maybe received another shock to his domestic bliss; and that only a week after the one before related. It is much to be feared that he did not fully appreciate the humorous side. However, as it gives an excellent ill.u.s.tration of the practical and simple working of the last-mentioned code, it is narrated.

The facts are as follows:

I one day received this request.

”I shall be exceedingly obliged if you will undertake to deliver this package to ---- personally. If you could start at once it would be very good of you; but please understand, no living soul may see the contents of this packet except ---- himself.”

I bowed my acceptance of the mission, murmuring how honoured I felt at an opportunity to render service to the ill.u.s.trious personage soliciting my a.s.sistance. Then I hastened to my hotel to prepare for immediate departure.

The midnight express to ---- was crowded. On the platform a few minutes before the scheduled time of leaving, representatives from almost every country in Europe could have been picked out. Detectives and Secret Servant agents glided through the crowd, observing, watching and noting the many strange and familiar faces. Their work meant an added consumption of current on the wires. The vacant stare, the side glance, or the wooden far-away expression of countenance, conveyed much to these men. To them it was always interesting to try and read the working of the brain behind. But I was a traveller and the doings of these night-hawks interested me but little, beyond such casual observation as could be made during a quick pa.s.sage to the train.

In the corridor of the car to which I was allotted were several Germans.

Two in particular I instinctively feared. Their faces were familiar. One of them had secured a berth in my compartment, and addressing me in excellent Danish, showed a desire to be affable. It was unsought, but it would perhaps be dangerous not to reciprocate.

Soon after the train had started on its journey I politely offered to share some refreshment with this fellow-traveller, which, however, that astute gentleman politely but firmly declined. It was an easy matter to guess the suspicious working in his mind. He meant to pa.s.s a sleepless night. So did I.

In due course I retired to rest, and the German secured the door of the cubicle before climbing to his berth, which was above mine. As soon as he was comfortably settled I opened the door he had closed. The German waited a while, and then, very stealthily, shut it again. I waited about a like period and reopened it. So the game proceeded, until about four o'clock in the morning the German complained of the draught. In the most polite language that could be commanded I replied by commenting upon the extreme heat and the unhygienic practice of curtailing fresh air.