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Chapter Four British and Allied Intelligence Complex Owing to Cow-gill's liking for a family atmosphere, an almost excessive cosiness marked the life and work of Section V. Officers and secretaries were put on Christian-name terms as soon as they arrived. It felt as if the office might at any moment burst into whole­ some round games. While this was embarrassing at times, it had its professional uses. It was never diffi­ cult to find out what colleagues were doing; what was known to one could be known to all. It also gave me wide freedom of movement. Cowgill did not mind when or how the work was done, provided it was done—itself no mean requirement considering the volume of paper with which we were flooded. This meant that I could go up to London virtually at will. This was valuable for developing contacts with other SIS sections in Broadway Buildings, with MI5, and with other government departments interested in our work. I made a practice of going once a week, in- 77 78 " MY SILENT WAR British and Allied Intelligence Complex • 79 variably with a bulging briefcase and a long visiting alphabet, ABC XYZ, etc. In government circles out­ list. I also volunteered for night duty in Broadway, side SIS, he was always known as "C." The initial which came round once or twice a month. It was an was a hangover from the days of Captain Mansfield instructive occupation because, in the course of a dimming, R.N., the first head of the secret service in single night, telegrams would come in from all parts its modem form. That was the sum total of mv knowl- of the world, throwing new light on the operations edge of the Chief at the time of our first encounter 1 of the service. in the lift. As will be seen, I came to know him much Broadway was a dingy building, a warren of better, and 1 hasten to say that I look back on him wooden partitions and frosted glass windows. It had with both affection and respect, though not neces­ eight floors served by an ancient lift. On one of my sarily with respect for those qualities on which he early visits, I got into the lift with a colleague whom would have prided himself. the liftman treated with obtrusive deference. The Apart from Fenwick, the agreeable but ineffective stranger gave me a swift glance and looked away. He oil-man who vaguely administered the stations in was well-built and well-dressed, but what struck me Madrid, Lisbon, Tangier, and Gibraltar, my earliest most was his pallor: pale face, pale eyes, silvery contact in Broadway was with one of the Chiefs blond hair thinning on top—the whole an impression closest cronies, David Boyle. He was in charge of the of pepper-and-salt. When he got out at the fourth distribution of information obtained by rifling diplo­ floor, I asked the liftman who he was. "Why, sir, matic bags, and of arrangements for its secure treat­ that's the Chief," he answered in some surprise. ment by recipients. But he was also credited with At that stage, I knew precious little of the Chief. being very close to the Chief, and thus having in­ His name was Stewart Mcnzies, his rank Colonel. His fluence on policy. I was prepared to dislike him office was on the fourth floor. His stationerv was a thoroughly, as I had heard appalling reports of him; vivid blue, his ink green. He wrote an execrable his nickname was Creqnng Jesus. My first impressions hand. Before becoming Chief, he had been head of tended to confirm the awful reports I had been given. Section IV, which dealt with Army intelligence. His He had most of the qualities I dislike most; it would official symbol was CSS, but in correspondence be­ be no injustice to describe him as a selfish and con­ tween Broadway and overseas stations he could be ceited snob. Yet he had a capacity to ingratiate him­ designated by any three successive letters of the self with senior members of the Foreign Office which, much to my surprise, I came to admire. Furthermore, 1 One file available to night-duty officers in Broadway was I was increasingly drawn to him for his inability to especially valuable to me. It contained telegrams from the War Office to the British Military Mission in Moscow, sent over assess the intelligence that passed through his hands. SIS channels. Although he was more than twice my age. he came to 80 • MY SILENT WAR British and Allied Intelligence Complex • 81 rely on my judgement In my turn, I paid him all the was to beard him in his office; a personal confronta­ outward signs of respect. Our personal association, tion lowered the temperature, and made it possible despite its inherent absurdity, became quite a happy to talk common sense. As soon as I grasped this, I one. It was also of great value to me because, among had little difficulty with him, except to keep a straight the waffle and gossip that fills most diplomatic bags, face when he started to make cracks about Vivian, there is sometimes a pearl of price. Boyle, of course, my boss's boss. Happily, our paths did not cross often, would never have claimed the prerogative of using as he was good enough to strike me off his list of green ink; he used purple instead. pet bugbears. Through Boyle, I met the famous Colonel Claude I made a point of seeing Vivian as often as possible. Dansey. Before the war, he had busied himself with He was quite useless for immediate practical pur­ building up the so-called "Z" organisation, designed poses, being mortally afraid of Dansey and even of to penetrate Germany from bases in Switzerland. The his own subordinate, Cowgill. But he probably had most interesting thing about the "Z" system was that a better mind than either, and was of a reflective tem­ its communications were disastrously affected bv the perament which led him to discourse long and widely collapse of France. In Switzerland, Dansey had left on SIS history, politics, and personalities, and on behind to carry on the work a smooth operator named relations between SIS and MI5. He was a stickler Van Der Heuvel (pronounced Hoyffl) who was al­ for correct procedure, and his sermons on the subject leged to be a Count of the Holy Roman Empire. He told me more about the intricacies of government will forgive me if I have mis-spelt his name, either machinery than I could have learnt from the more literally or phonetically, but I can claim to be in good slap-dash "result-getters," such as Dansey or Cow- company. When I went one day to dine with him at gill. I had little idea in the early months of my culti­ the Garrick, the porter had difficult)' in understanding vation of Vivian how much it would assist me in whom I wanted to see. "Oooh," he said at last, "you attaining the one position in SIS which I wanted mean Mr. Vannoovl," and gave me the appropriate above anything the service could offer. Cowgill was direction. to regret bitterly his premature dismissal of Vivian I have already explained that Dansey had the low­ as a nonentity. est opinion of the value of counter-espionage, as well It was a short walk from Broadway Buildings across as a reputation for unnecessary combativeness. I was St. James's Park to the wartime headquarters of MI5 therefore surprised by the courtesy he showed me. It in St. James's Street. But the difference in style was proved always to be so. Dansey was a man who pre­ considerable. Even the entrance compared favourably ferred to scatter his venom at long range, by tele­ with the dingy hall at Broadway, and the first good phone or on paper. The only way to deal with him impression was confirmed upstairs. The offices looked 82 * MY SILENT WAR British and Allied Intelligence Complex • 83 like offices; so far as I know, there were none of the Fortunately, it was all waste paper anyway. The Ger­ makeshift rabbit hutches that disfigured so much of man Fifth Column in Britain never existed. Broadway. The officers sat at desks uncluttered by The task of producing order from chaos was en­ dog-eared paper. At most, half-a-dozen neat files, each trusted to a certain Horrocks who was imported nicely indexed and cross-indexed, would be awaiting (from the City, I believe) especially for that purpose. treatment. This had its drawbacks. At Section V, we Inside a year, he could claim to have succeeded. I used to complain of the inordinate detail which MI5 understand that he had authority over the adminis­ officers found time to pack into their long letters. tration in general, but my particular interest was in Some of it, at least, was unwarranted by the sig­ the archives. There he did a beautiful job. In a new nificance of its subject-matter. Nevertheless, MI5 wore home in part of Blenheim Palace, M15 Registry was a place of delight after Woodfield's untidy labyrinth at an air of professional competence which Broadwav St. Albans. Information was easily accessible in well- never matched. It may have been over-staffed, as kept files and card-indices, and there were enough Cowgill frequently complained. But the results of filing clerks to ensure that the work was done me­ such over-staffing was that most of the officers knew thodically and at a reasonable pace.
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