Hitler's Spy Chief (5 page)

But by now Stoddart was a baffled, if not to say harassed, man. Conscious of the importance London attached to his achieving the
Dresden's
destruction, and no less aware of the difficulties which the failure to do so had inflicted on his predecessor's relations with the Admiralty, he determined to take up the intelligence chase personally. Meeting with Milward, he received a persuasive report that the
Dresden
was still in the area. Unfortunately, the Admiralty was getting reports, carefully spread by Canaris via Patagonia, that the ship was in the Vast Hope Inlet, the remotest recess of that maze of fiords that spreads northwards from Smyth's Channel. Churchill at the Admiralty, and consequendy Stoddart, fell for this ruse. In vain did the hapless Milward cable that it was only a feint. HMS
Glasgow, Kent, Orama
and
Bristol
all set off on the wild-goose chase. And yet another cross signal from Fisher reminded Stoddart that these ships were needed in the North Sea. This sporting ruse not only drew off the only four British ships in the area, allowing the
Dresden
to set sail for the Pacific, it also resulted in one of the ships, the
Bristol
, seriously damaging her rudder on an uncharted coral, so putting her into dry dock.

By now half a dozen British cruisers had been playing hide and seek
with the
Dresden
for three months. But yet again, the Admiralty was hoodwinked by a Canaris deception, to the effect that the
Dresden
was back at Good Hope. The hapless Luce was again ordered to change course and search this unlikely place.

But this time, the legendary Room 40 of the Naval Intelligence Division under the able direction of Admiral ‘Blinker' Hall and staffed largely by Cambridge-educated code breakers and the odd naval officer of German extraction, intervened to bring Canaris' run of luck to an end.

Hall, who was on this occasion to act as Canaris' nemesis, had visited Kiel in 1908 where, according to Banfield, he had met the young Canaris. As Hall had been on a covert intelligence gathering mission, he would no doubt have made notes on all the officers he met, especially the promising cadets who spoke excellent English, as Canaris did long before his tutor at Kiel, Hughes, praised his written English.

Hall, whose gaze was described as ‘seeing the very muscular movements of your immortal soul,' was perhaps the most appropriate opponent for the
Dresden
and her wily intelligence officer. Years later, during the second ‘German War', Canaris would betray his own respect for Hall when, on hearing the news of a new chief of naval intelligence in London, he noted: ‘The Naval Intelligence Division is not as circumspect as it was in Admiral Hall's day.'
9

In the words of the signal officer on HMS
Glasgow
, ‘Our luck turned.' Hall's team decoded a simple signal sent by Canaris to a collier. It read ‘Am proceeding Juan Fernandez. Meet me there March 9th. Very short of coal.'

This was all Luce needed. Together with
Kent
and
Orama
, a course was plotted to intercept the
Dresden
. Lüdecke, meanwhile, received a telegram from the Kaiser allowing him absolute discretion to accept internment. On receipt of this, Lüdecke informed the Chilean authorities that he would await the dispatch of a Chilean warship to oversee internment in Cumberland Bay.

This time, Canaris' strategems had far reaching repercussions in London, for it was this exchange, intercepted again by Hall, which ignited Churchill. On hearing the news that
Glasgow
had the
Dresden
more or less in its sights, Churchill ordered an immediate attack. Hall, however, tipped off Maurice Hankey, the cabinet secretary, in a not untypical example of a senior intelligence officer working internal lines of communication to restrain a politician. Hankey, however, did not need to be told that there were implications, as Chile was a neutral power, and Churchill's order had serious political ramifications.
10

A full scale row now ensued at a hastily convened meeting between Asquith, Churchill and Grey in which Asquith, who had been understandably kept in the dark about the entire affair, is reported to have been highly unamused, emerging from the encounter looking ‘heated'. Indeed, everyone appears to have left this encounter the worse for wear, save for the ever-serene and impassive Grey. But Luce was not countermanded and on 14 March the long delayed final act of a pursuit that had consumed a totally disproportionate amount of naval and political energy finally now took place.

Only as the sun rose on 14 March 1915 could the captain of
Glasgow
be sure this was not another alarum or excursion. As the precipitous bleak cliffs of Cumberland Bay, in Chilean waters, came into view, there was the
Dresden
, which had eluded him for so long.

While
Glasgow
and
Orama
approached from the west,
Kent
took up position from the east. Luce, who had had to flee von Spee at the Coronel and had lost the
Dresden
at the Falklands, spending months chasing Canaris' false trails as a result, was in no mood for diplomacy. In the absence of any Chilean warships to enforce neutral waters, Luce noted that the
Dresden
was still flying the German ensign and so opened fire at 8,400 yards, straddling her with his second salvo.

At this point, the
Dresden
, facing imminent destruction, could have surrendered, but as the
Gneisenau
and the other German ships at the
Battle of the Falkland Islands had vividly shown, this was not the German tradition. As the
Kent
joined the action, Lüdecke returned fire but being anchored was at a serious tactical disadvantage, so that he soon hoisted a parley flag.
*
Seeing this, Luce ordered a cease fire and awaited the arrival of a launch which, despite the falling shot, had been lowered from the
Dresden
and was calmly proceeding with a small but dapper Lieutenant Canaris towards the
Glasgow
.

The heavy naval binoculars of the Royal Naval officers trained onto the slight figure, who, with a studied air of insouciance, but as someone later remarked a rather serious expression, continued on his way to the British ship. Shells had fallen perilously close to the launch but the German officer stood impassively, determined to give no sign of flinching from the danger every naval officer of those times was trained for.

Saluting as he boarded
Glasgow
, he was taken to Luce, who received him coolly but correctiy. The German pointed out, in the clear and confident English that his Cambridge-educated tutor at Kiel had taught him, that the
Dresden
was in neutral waters, the point which had so exercised Churchill, Asquith and Grey a few days before.

Canaris made, if contemporary reports are to be believed, a good impression. His bearing was confident but not arrogant. He exuded litde evidence that he was the representative of a unit that was about to be wiped off the face of the map.

As another German officer would write after a later war: ‘It is the function of bluff to redress the balance between one's own inadequacy and the other man's superiority and as this cannot be done in actual fact but only by psychological means, which are independent of tangible resources, it is a weapon peculiarly suited to a man on the run.'
11

Canaris spoke excellent English, as those who had followed his false trails over the last few months knew to their cost. Luce would not have
been true to that international brotherhood which has always bound together naval officers of whatever nationality if he had not felt some professional admiration for his enemy's evasion tactics of the last few months. But there was now no question of showing any sign of such sympathy. The formalities were brief and stiff.

Luce asked Canaris bluntly if his ship had struck its flag. To which Canaris replied ‘You will see it still flies to the fore,' whereupon Luce told the German sharply that his orders were very clear: he was to destroy the enemy wherever he found her. The niceties of international law could be left to the diplomats.
*

Irrespective of the precise details of the exchange, Canaris' mission had only one objective, which was to prevent his ship falling into British hands while avoiding further loss of life among the
Dresden
crew. No German naval officer could honourably allow his ship to surrender. Canaris had to gain the time needed to prepare her for scuttling. The ship was in the shallow waters of the bay and in order for scuttiing to be effective and give no chance of salvage, ten sea cocks, condensers and torpedo tube doors would have to be opened while charges were laid in the magazines.

Canaris returned, agreeing to report Luce's words to his Captain, but in a last ruse he persuaded the Chilean authorities to send a boat to
Glasgow
protesting at Luce firing, no doubt inadvertentiy, on the Chilean governor's launch. This again played for time. As Luce apologized to the Chileans, offering to pay full compensation for any damage to local property, Lüdecke followed the last of his men and officers ashore. Five minutes later, at 10.45 a.m., a huge explosion ripped open the
Dresden's
forward magazine, echoing round the cliffs and shattering all conversation on board the
Glasgow
.

The company of the
Dresden
were fallen in on shore, cheering as
their ship, still flying the black and white German ensign, listed over and sank. The British crews also cheered, and Luce chivalrously offered to convey the sixteen wounded of the
Dresden
to the nearest hospital. Canaris and the rest of the crew were interned though many later escaped. Unsurprisingly, Canaris, with the permission of his commanding officer, was the first.

As a fluent Spanish speaker – he spoke Chilean Spanish with no trace of a foreign accent – he found he could easily pass in a South American crowd. With linguistic skills was combined resourcefulness. Sofia Krause, whose elder sister Olga received Canaris and some of the other officers a few times at her villa recalled: ‘He had dark hair and skin and was well educated and mannered. He did not look German. Neither was he good-looking, but he had an attractive personality.'

Señora Krause witnessed the first stage of Canaris' escape, which was clearly well planned and may have involved several people: ‘My brother-in-law as a German descendant gave him money and a false passport. One morning Canaris arrived from the island. There was a tense atmosphere. I was not allowed to leave my room but I saw everything from my window. Canaris was wearing his usual clothes, a formal suit, and carried a suitcase. He was here for a while; then he left dressed as a pedlar wearing clothes and a cap which seemed to cover his face almost entirely. He had exchanged his heavy German suitcase for a canvas bag.'
12

He then crossed the Andes, partly on foot and partly on horseback. By Christmas he had reached Buenos Aires, it having taken him eight months to cross from the Pacific to the Adantic coast. And there, exhausted, dishevelled and weak he found a cousin of the German ambassador in Rome, von Bülow, to take him in and assist his next move.

The von Bülows were wealthy, well-connected and patriotic. They had the means and the will to help and, in a city dominated in those days by British commercial and political interests, they were discreet and subtle.

The identity of the dashing lieutenant Canaris was obliterated and in
his place there emerged the mournful Chilean widower, Reed Rosas, who would return to Europe to inherit property in the Netherlands. Setting sail on the Dutch Lloyd steamer
Frisia
, Canaris ingratiated himself with his fellow English passengers, boasting of an English mother and cannily using the long weeks to absorb English habits, customs and language. He was a popular travelling companion and able bridge player.

By the time the
Frisia
reached Plymouth, he was sufficiently plausible and confident to assist the English naval officers in their inquiries about fellow passengers. The ship, with Canaris still aboard, was allowed to proceed to Rotterdam from where, armed with a Chilean passport, Canaris found no difficulty slipping back into Germany. A few months later, in Germany, a silver medal would be struck commemorating the ‘honourable sinking' of the
Dresden
– appropriately perhaps, given later events, the only known copy of the medal is in the possession of the Maritime Museum in Greenwich.

Thus ended the first wartime encounter between Hitler's future intelligence chief and the Royal Navy. Early accounts of Canaris dwell on the impact Captain Luce and his officers had on the clearly Anglophile German but, as is clear from this account, Canaris also left an impression; and those, including Churchill, Admiral Hall and ‘Jackie' Fisher who had followed the irritatingly elusive
Dresden
so closely, might have been forgiven the sigh of relief which no doubt greeted the news of her long awaited destruction and the internment (though not for long) of her formidable intelligence officer.

For Canaris, this incident made his name in the highest circles of the German Admiralty. Meanwhile, in London, for the first but by no means last time, the name of Canaris was to be passed across the desk of the Admiralty, perhaps to lodge in some deep elephantine recess of the sophisticated memory of Winston Churchill.

*
These plans, recently published in Germany (see F.A.Z. Archive), cast some light on the growing awareness of potential rivalry between Europe and the United States at the start of the twentieth century.

*
In von Spee's case he went down with his two sons, both serving naval officers.

*
This is, at least, the leading authority Bennett's conclusion.

*
Banfield notes that the signal did arrive in time, but was not distributed until after the ship had departed, a result of some financial
douceur
administered by Canaris from the
Dresden's
treasury.