Czechoslovakia Before The Carving

It is pretty generally admitted now that the Munich “peace” gave Germany industrial and military areas essential to further aggressions. Instead of helping to put a troubled Europe on the road to lasting peace, Munich strengthened the totalitarian powers, especially Germany, and a strengthened Germany inevitably means increased activities of the Nazis’ Fifth Column which is, in all quarters of the globe, actively preparing the ground for Hitler’s greater plans.

If we can divine the future by the past, the Fifth Column, that shadowy group of secret agents now entrenched in every important country throughout the world, is an omen of what is to come. Before Germany marched into Austria, that unhappy country witnessed a large influx of Fifth Column members. In Czechoslovakia, especially in those months before the Republic’s heart was handed to Hitler on a platter, there was a tremendous increase in the numbers and activities of agents sent into the Central European country.

During my stay there in the brief period immediately preceding the “peace,” I learned a little about the operations of the Gestapo’s secret agents in Czechoslovakia. Their numbers are vast and those few of whom I learned, are infinitesimal to the actual numbers at work then and now, not only in Czechoslovakia but in other countries. What I learned of those few, however, shows how the Gestapo, the Nazi secret service, operates in its ruthless drive.

For years Hitler had laid plans to fight, if he had to, for Czechoslovakia, whose natural mountain barriers and man-made defensive line of steel and concrete stood in the way of his announced drive to the Ukrainian wheat fields. In preparation for the day when he might have to fight for its control, he sent into the Republic a host of spies, provocateurs, propagandists and saboteurs to establish themselves, make contacts, carry on propaganda and build a machine which would be invaluable in time of war.

In a few instances I learned the details of the Nazis’ inexorable determination and their inhuman indifference to the lives of even their own agents.

Arno Oertel, alias Harald Half, was a thin, white-faced spy trained in two Gestapo schools for Fifth Column work. Oertel was given a German passport by Richter, the Gestapo district chief at Bischofswerda on what was then the Czechoslovak-German frontier.

“You will proceed to Prague,” Richter instructed him, “and lose yourself in the city. As soon as it is safe, go to Langenau near Boehmisch-Leipa and report to Frau Anna Suchy. She will give you further instructions.”

Oertel nodded. It was his first important espionage job assigned to him after the twenty-five-year-old secret agent had finished his intensive course in the special Gestapo training school in Zossen (Brandenburg), one of the many schools established by the Nazi secret service to train agents for various activities.

After his graduation Oertel had been given minor practical training in politically disruptive work in anti-fascist organizations across the Czech border where he had posed as a German emigre. There he had shown such aptitude that his Gestapo chief at sector headquarters in Dresden, Herr Geissler, sent him to Czechoslovakia on a special mission.

Oertel hesitated. “Naturally I’ll take all possible precautions but accidents may happen.”

Richter nodded. “If you are caught and arrested, demand to see the German Consul immediately,” he said. “If you are in a bad predicament, we’ll request your extradition on a criminal charge burglary with arms, attempted murder some non-political crime. We’ve got a treaty with Czechoslovakia to extradite Germans accused of criminal acts but ” The Gestapo chief opened the top drawer of his desk and took a small capsule from a box. “If you find yourself in an utterly hopeless situation, swallow this.”

He handed the pellet to the nervous young man.

“Cyanide,” Richter said. “Tie it up in a knot in your handkerchief. It will not be taken from you if you are arrested. There is always an opportunity while being searched to take it.”

Oertel tied the pellet in a corner of his handkerchief and placed it in his breast pocket.

“You are to make two reports,” Richter continued. “One for Frau Suchy, the other for the contact in Prague. She’ll get you in touch with him.”

Anna Suchy, when Oertel reported to her, gave him specific orders: “On August 16 , at five o’clock in the afternoon, you will sit on a bench near the fountain in Karlsplatz in Prague. A man dressed in a gray suit, gray hat, with a blue handkerchief showing from the breast pocket of his coat, will ask you for a light for his cigarette. Give him the light and accept a cigarette from the gentleman. He will give you detailed instructions on what to do and how to meet the Prague contact to whom in turn you will report.”

At the appointed hour Oertel sat on a bench staring at the fountain, watching men and women strolling and chatting cheerfully on the way to meet friends for late afternoon coffee. Occasionally he looked at the afternoon papers lying on the bench beside him. He felt that he was being watched but he saw no one in a gray suit with a blue handkerchief. He wiped his forehead with his handkerchief, partly because of the heat, partly because of nervousness. As he held the handkerchief he could feel the tightly bound capsule.

Precisely at five he noticed a man in a gray suit with a gray hat and a blue handkerchief in the breast pocket of his coat, strolling toward him. As the man approached he took out a package of cigarettes, selected one and searched his pockets for a light. Stopping before Oertel, he doffed his hat and smilingly asked for a light. Oertel produced his lighter and the other in turn offered him a cigarette. He sat down on the bench.

“Report once a week,” he said abruptly, puffing at his cigarette and staring at two children playing in the sunshine which flooded Karlsplatz. He stretched his feet like a man relaxing after a hard day’s work. “Deliver reports to Frau Suchy personally. One week she will come to Prague, the next you go to her. Deliver a copy of your report to the English missionary, Vicar Robert Smith, who lives at 31 Karlsplatz.”

Smith, to whom the unidentified man in the gray suit told Oertel to report, was a minister of the Church of Scotland in Prague, a British subject with influential connections not only with English-speaking people but with Czech government officials. Besides his ministerial work, the Reverend Smith led an amateur orchestra group giving free concerts for German emigres. On his clerical recommendation, he got German “emigre” women into England as house servants for British government officials and army officers.

The far-flung Gestapo network in Czechoslovakia concentrated much of its activities along the former German-Czech border. In Prague, even today when Germany has achieved what she said was all she wanted in Europe, the network reaches into all branches of the Government, the military forces and emigre anti-fascist groups. The country, before it was cut to pieces and even now, is honeycombed with Gestapo agents sent from Germany with false passports or smuggled across the border.

Often the Gestapo uses Czech citizens whose relatives are in Germany and upon whom pressure is put. The work of these agents consists not only of ferreting out military information regarding Czech defense measures and establishing contacts with Czech citizens for permanent espionage, but of the equally important assignment of disrupting anti-fascist groups of creating opposition within organizations having large memberships in order to split and disintegrate them. Agents also make reports on public opinion and attitudes, and record carefully the names and addresses of those engaged in anti-fascist work. A similar procedure was followed in Austria before that country was invaded, and it enabled the Nazis to make wholesale arrests immediately upon entering the country.

Prague, with a German population of sixty thousand is still the headquarters for the astonishing espionage and propaganda machine which the Gestapo built throughout the country. Before Czechoslovakia was cut up, most of the espionage reports crossed the frontier into Germany through Tetschen-Bodenbach. The propaganda and espionage center of the Henlein group was in the headquarters of the Sudeten Deutsche Partei at 4 Hybernska St. A secondary headquarters, in the Deutscher Hilfsverein at 7 Nekazanka St., was directed by Emil Wallner, who was ostensibly representing the Leipzig Fair but was actually the chief of the Gestapo machine in Prague. His assistant, Hermann Dorn, living in Hanspaulka-Dejvice, masqueraded as the representative of the Muenchner Illustrierte Zeitung.

Some aspects of the Nazi espionage and propaganda machine in Czechoslovakia hold especial interest for American immigration authorities since into the United States, too, comes a steady flow of the shadowy members of the Nazis’ Fifth Column. It is well to know that the letters and numbers at the top of passports inform German diplomatic representatives the world over that the bearer usually is a Gestapo agent. Whenever American immigration authorities find German passports with letters and numbers at the top, they may be reasonably sure that the bearer is an agent. These numbers are placed on passports by Gestapo headquarters in Berlin or Dresden. The agent’s photograph and a sample of his (or her) handwriting is sent via the diplomatic pouch to the Nazi Embassy, Legation, Consulate or German Bund in the country or city to which the agent is assigned. When the agent reports in a foreign city, the resident Gestapo chief, in order to identify him, checks the passport’s top number with the picture and the handwriting received by diplomatic pouch.

Rudolf Walter Voigt, alias Walter Clas, alias Heinz Leonhard, alias Herbert Frank names which he used throughout Europe in his espionage work will serve as an illustration. Voigt was sent to Prague on a delicate mission. His job was to discover how Czechs got to Spain to fight in the International Brigade, a mystery in Berlin since such Czechs had to cross Italy, Germany or other fascist countries which cooperate with the Gestapo.

Voigt was given passport N,128,236 made out in the name of Walter Clas, and bearing at the top of the passport the letters and numbers 1A1444. He was instructed, by Leader Wilhelm May of Dresden, to report to the Henlein Party headquarters upon his arrival in Prague. Clas, alias Voigt, arrived October 23, 1937, reported at the Sudeten Party headquarters and saw a man whom I was unable to identify. He was instructed to report again four days later, since information about the agent had not yet arrived.

Voigt was trained in the Gestapo espionage schools in Potsdam and Calmuth-Remagen. He operates directly under Wilhelm May whose headquarters are in Dresden. May is in charge of Gestapo work over Sector N. Preceding the granting to Hitler of the Sudeten areas in Czechoslovakia, the entire Czech border espionage and terrorist activity was divided into sectors. At this writing the same sector divisions still exist, operating now across the new frontiers. Sector N embraces Silesia with headquarters at Breslau; N, Saxony, with headquarters at Dresden; and N, Bavaria, with headquarters at Munich. After the annexation of Austria, Sector N was added, commanded by Gestapo Chief Scheffler whose headquarters are in Berlin with a branch in Vienna. Sector N also directs Standarte II which stands ready to provide incidents to justify German invasion “because the situation has got out of control of the local authorities.”

Another way in which immigration authorities, especially in countries surrounding Germany, can detect Gestapo agents is by the position of stamps on the German passport. Stamps are placed, in accordance with German law, directly under the spot provided for them on the passport on the front page, upper right hand corner. Whenever the stamps are on the cover facing the passport title page, it is a sign to Gestapo representatives and Consulates that the bearer is an agent who crossed the border hurriedly without time to get the regular numbers and letters from Gestapo headquarters. The agent is given this means of temporary identification by the border Gestapo chief.

Also, whenever immigration authorities find a German passport issued to the bearer for less than five years and then extended to the regulation five-year period, they may be certain that the bearer is a new Gestapo agent who is being tested by controlled movements in a foreign country. For his first Gestapo mission in Holland, for instance, Voigt was given a passport August 15, 1936, good for only fourteen days. His chief was not sure whether or not Voigt had agreed to become an agent just to get a passport and money to escape the country; so his passport period was limited.

When the fourteen-day period expired, Voigt would have to report to the Nazi Consulate for a renewal. In this particular instance, the passport was marked “Non-renewable Except by Special Permission of the Chief of Dresden Police.” When Voigt performed his Holland mission successfully, he was given the usual five-year passport.

Any German whose passport shows a given limited time, which has been subsequently extended, gives proof that he has been tested and found satisfactory by the Gestapo.