The Codebreakers: The True Story of the Secret Intelligence Team That Changed the Course of the First World War by James Wyllie, Michael McKinley Page B
Authors: James Wyllie, Michael McKinley
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was a Swiss diplomat and had been thus when they’d met in Germany.
For the rest of the voyage, von Rintelen dodged the count, worried that he’d eventually remember his real name and the details of their encounters. Finally, the chalk cliffs of England lay to port of the SS
Noordam
, and in the full day it took to sail past them von Rintelen ‘found it necessary to visit the bar at intervals to fortify myself’. On the morning of Friday 13 August, he was interrupted in his bath by news that British officers wanted a word.
Von Rintelen made a great game of it, charming his captors and winning their sympathy. He even managed to survive the accusations of a Belgian waiter who used to work at the Hotel Bristol in Berlin, and who now recognised him during a tea break at the hotel in Ramsgate where he had been taken for questioning. Von Rintelen was released, and with happy thoughts of the Fatherland on his mind was being ferried back to the
Noordam
to resume his voyage when his luck ran out. He was recalled to land for one more interview. At Scotland Yard.
This time his interrogator was none other than Blinker Hall, who had brought with him Lord Richard Herschell, his private secretary and a key member of the Room 40 codebreaking team. At a heavy table to the left of the fireplace sat the bespectacled head of Special Branch, Sir Basil Thomson, a close friend of Hall. Von Rintelen knew that he had to play his best game yet if he hoped to evade the high-powered inquisition in front of him.
He thought he had succeeded in convincing Hall and his team that he really was a Swiss businessman, and was taken, as per his demand, to the Swiss legation for protection. While there, he heard his British minders talking about Blinker Hall’s canny decision to contact the Swiss authorities in Berne to see if Emile Gaché was at home, or if he could be found in London.
Von Rintelen quickly realised that if his ruse was uncovered, the British could send him back to America as a spy, in store for undoubtedly rough justice. On a rainy August night in London, he put his German uniform back on, so to speak, and demanded an audience with Blinker Hall, where he reintroduced himself by saying, ‘Captain Rintelen begs to report to you, sir, as a prisoner of war.’
Hall, appreciative of the theatrics but as ever one step ahead, congratulated von Rintelen on his subterfuge, and Lord Herschell made them all cocktails. Then the two men, in the guise of officers and gentlemen, took von Rintelen to their club for dinner before dispatching him to prison camp. It was during this dinner that the British showed just how deep their intelligence ran. As von Rintelen recalled in his memoir:
‘You need not have waited so long for that cocktail I gave you at the Admiralty, Captain,’ said Lord Herschell to Rintelen when they were seated in a comfortable corner of the club.
‘So long?’
‘We expected you four weeks ago. Our preparations had been made for your reception, but you took your time. Why did you not leave New York as soon as you got the telegram?’
Suddenly von Rintelen realised that the British had been reading German telegrams for as long as he had been in America. Just to drive home the point, Blinker Hall pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and read aloud the very message that von Rintelen had received from Boy-Ed calling him back to Germany. Indeed, the British had only lost track of von Rintelen when he had first brought the new code to New York.
‘You had hardly got there when they started using it,’ Hall told him, enjoying himself. ‘Of course, we had been informed that you were coming, that you were going to America and taking a new code over; all that had been telegraphed to New York, and we had read it. From that moment we were unable to decipher your people’s telegrams any longer, till we got hold of the new code too.’
As von Rintelen was driven off to prison camp, he was staggered that the British knew everything
For the rest of the voyage, von Rintelen dodged the count, worried that he’d eventually remember his real name and the details of their encounters. Finally, the chalk cliffs of England lay to port of the SS
Noordam
, and in the full day it took to sail past them von Rintelen ‘found it necessary to visit the bar at intervals to fortify myself’. On the morning of Friday 13 August, he was interrupted in his bath by news that British officers wanted a word.
Von Rintelen made a great game of it, charming his captors and winning their sympathy. He even managed to survive the accusations of a Belgian waiter who used to work at the Hotel Bristol in Berlin, and who now recognised him during a tea break at the hotel in Ramsgate where he had been taken for questioning. Von Rintelen was released, and with happy thoughts of the Fatherland on his mind was being ferried back to the
Noordam
to resume his voyage when his luck ran out. He was recalled to land for one more interview. At Scotland Yard.
This time his interrogator was none other than Blinker Hall, who had brought with him Lord Richard Herschell, his private secretary and a key member of the Room 40 codebreaking team. At a heavy table to the left of the fireplace sat the bespectacled head of Special Branch, Sir Basil Thomson, a close friend of Hall. Von Rintelen knew that he had to play his best game yet if he hoped to evade the high-powered inquisition in front of him.
He thought he had succeeded in convincing Hall and his team that he really was a Swiss businessman, and was taken, as per his demand, to the Swiss legation for protection. While there, he heard his British minders talking about Blinker Hall’s canny decision to contact the Swiss authorities in Berne to see if Emile Gaché was at home, or if he could be found in London.
Von Rintelen quickly realised that if his ruse was uncovered, the British could send him back to America as a spy, in store for undoubtedly rough justice. On a rainy August night in London, he put his German uniform back on, so to speak, and demanded an audience with Blinker Hall, where he reintroduced himself by saying, ‘Captain Rintelen begs to report to you, sir, as a prisoner of war.’
Hall, appreciative of the theatrics but as ever one step ahead, congratulated von Rintelen on his subterfuge, and Lord Herschell made them all cocktails. Then the two men, in the guise of officers and gentlemen, took von Rintelen to their club for dinner before dispatching him to prison camp. It was during this dinner that the British showed just how deep their intelligence ran. As von Rintelen recalled in his memoir:
‘You need not have waited so long for that cocktail I gave you at the Admiralty, Captain,’ said Lord Herschell to Rintelen when they were seated in a comfortable corner of the club.
‘So long?’
‘We expected you four weeks ago. Our preparations had been made for your reception, but you took your time. Why did you not leave New York as soon as you got the telegram?’
Suddenly von Rintelen realised that the British had been reading German telegrams for as long as he had been in America. Just to drive home the point, Blinker Hall pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and read aloud the very message that von Rintelen had received from Boy-Ed calling him back to Germany. Indeed, the British had only lost track of von Rintelen when he had first brought the new code to New York.
‘You had hardly got there when they started using it,’ Hall told him, enjoying himself. ‘Of course, we had been informed that you were coming, that you were going to America and taking a new code over; all that had been telegraphed to New York, and we had read it. From that moment we were unable to decipher your people’s telegrams any longer, till we got hold of the new code too.’
As von Rintelen was driven off to prison camp, he was staggered that the British knew everything
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