Chapter 14

The Armenians dress very largely in red. A common costume of women and girls is striking even at a distance because of the amount of red in it. The same is true to a less degree of the men. The hordes of old men, old women, the sick, and the frail, with children of all ages marching mile after mile, often in cold and rain with no food except what they had been able to seize as they were driven on a moment's notice from their homes and villages, leaving their strong men brutally slaughtered, have been called "red caravans of death," and in truth they were caravans of victims seeking, desiring, praying for death, and marching on till death relieved them.

In 1915, the Turkish armies in Palestine, under German leadership, attempted to gain possession of the Suez Canal, in order to prevent supplies passing through on Allied ships. Although the Turks made several attempts to block the canal, they were all unsuccessful. After these numerous attacks on the canal, England realized that the only safe way to protect her Egyptian possessions was to gain Palestine. In 1916 a plan was made for an offensive into the Holy Land. The plan was first tried by General Maxwell and then by General Murray, but both attempts were unsuccessful.

In June, 1917, the English transferred General Allenby, then fighting on the western front, to the command of the Egyptian expeditionary forces. He immediately began to lay plans for an offensive into Palestine, with the city of Jerusalem as his main objective. The Turks were strongly fortified in southern Palestine, on a line extending from the coast city of Gaza to the inland city of Beersheba. Allenby's plan was to attack the left flank of the enemies' line, capturing Beersheba, where he counted on renewing his water supply. To aid the successful advancement of his main offense, he sent a small body of troops toward the city of Gaza, situated on the enemies' right flank. This was done to draw the Turkish reserves toward Gaza, where they would expect the main offense to take place. The British warships in the Mediterranean helped in this movement, by bombarding the town as the land forces approached it. The plan was put into effect on October 30. On the next day the city of Beersheba was taken by surprise, and the Turkish left flank was routed. After renewing his supply of water at Beersheba, General Allenby advanced on Gaza, which was captured with little resistance. Although greatly hampered by poor water supply and tremendous transportation difficulties, he drove the Turks north and by a successful engagement at Junction Station cut their forces in two.

By this time the Turks in Jerusalem were becoming greatly disturbed by Allenby's rapid advance. Enver Pasha, the famous Turkish commander, rushed to the city to rally his generals, but after studying the situation, he left the city the next day. Soon after Enver's hurried departure, General Falkenhayn arrived. Military supplies were moved north of the city and the Germans prepared to leave. The remaining Turks were under the command of Ali Fuad Pasha, who by proclamations and entreaties, tried to rally the people of the city.

Meanwhile General Allenby had moved north and captured the city of Jaffa, situated on the Mediterranean, a little northwest of Jerusalem. From Jaffa, by hard fighting he advanced through the Judean hills, towards the Holy City. Jerusalem was occupied by English troops on December 9, 1917, and General Allenby made his official entrance on December 11. Soon after the occupation of the city by the English, a proclamation was read, amidst great cheering, announcing freedom of worship.

Part of the proclamation is as follows. "Since your city is regarded with affection by the adherents of three of the great religions of mankind, and its soil has been consecrated by the prayers and pilgrimages of multitudes of devout people of these three religions for many centuries, therefore, do I make it known to you that every sacred building, monument, holy spot, shrine, traditional site, endowment, pious bequest, or customary place of prayer of whatsoever form of the three religions will be maintained and protected according to the existing customs and beliefs of those to whose faith they are sacred."

The capture of Jerusalem was hailed by the entire civilized world as one of the greatest accomplishments of the war. Although it was taken for strategical reasons, the fact that the Holy City was once more in the hands of Christians meant more to the world than the military advantage gained by its capture. Jerusalem is generally thought of only as a peaceful shrine of many nations; it is in reality a fortress more often contested, perhaps, than any other city in the world. Until captured by General Allenby, Jerusalem had been, except for two brief intervals, under Mohammedan control for almost thirteen centuries. Now that it is once more in Christian hands, it appears probable that it will remain so forever.

After capturing the city, the English began to strengthen its fortifications against counter-attacks. They also fortified the coast city of Jaffa which they had captured just previous to the advance on Jerusalem. The Turks made several attempts to recapture their lost ground, but all were unsuccessful. The English were unable to resume their offensive the following spring, because of the crisis which compelled them to send a large part of their forces to Europe to check the new German drive on the western front. It was not until September 18, 1918, that General Allenby started his next offensive. The object of this was the capture of Damascus, the capital of Syria. He started his advance on a line extending from Haifa on the coast, across Palestine to the Arabian Desert. Although strongly opposed by a Turkish army numbering at least 100,000 men, he advanced by remarkable forced marching and hard fighting on Damascus, which he occupied October 1, 1918. During the offensive on Damascus, he captured over 70,000 prisoners and 350 guns. Included in these figures were several Turkish commanders and German and Austrian troops numbering more than 200 officers and 3000 privates.

Damascus is the most beautiful city in Asiatic Turkey and is the oldest city in the world. There is a Turkish prophecy, many centuries old, made in fact when the Turks were at the height of their power, that some day they would be conquered and driven back to the place from which they came. The prophet said, "When the end is at hand, Damascus will be taken by the infidels. An Imam wearing a green turban and a green robe will ascend to the top of a green minaret with his last salavat. He will call all the faithful about him and they will all then start on a journey to the place from whence they came."

Because of this prophecy, there is a Turkish saying known to all Turks educated or ignorant, dweller in city or in obscure village, which reads, _Evelli Sham, Akhuri Sham_. Now _Sham_ is the Turk's name for Damascus, _Evelli_ means first, and _Akhuri_ means last: and the meaning of the saying in English would be something like this, "Damascus is everything to the Turk, and when it falls all is lost." Probably the prophet had no idea that Damascus would or could be taken from the south by forces led across the desert as General Allenby led the English. If Damascus should be captured from the north, all of the Turkish dominion would have to be conquered before the foe reached there. So the Turks have repeated with a feeling of security, _Evelli Sham, Akhuri Sham_.

The capture of Damascus opened the way to Aleppo, situated on the Constantinople-Bagdad railroad about 180 miles to the north. The Turkish troops, routed by the rapid advance of the British on Damascus, gave very little resistance to Allenby in his drive on Aleppo. The English entered Aleppo on Saturday morning, October 26, and stopped Turkish traffic on the Constantinople-Bagdad railway at this point. On October 29, General Marshall's forces defeated the Turks at Kaleh Sherghat, cutting off their communications with Mosul. The combined victories of Allenby in Palestine and Marshall in Mesopotamia left the remaining Turkish forces helpless. Turkey signed an armistice October 30, 1918, which was virtually the same as an unconditional surrender, and meant the end of the "unspeakable Turk" in Europe.

THE SECRET SERVICE

The United States did not declare war till nearly three years after the war had begun in Europe. During most of that time the situation was this: Germany, to win at all, must win at once. The longer the Allies could stave Germany off, the more time they would have to collect arms and armies, powder, food, and ships, and the more certain they would be of winning in the end. Therefore they sent to America, which was rich and had many factories, for tremendous quantities of every sort of war provisions. Of course it was necessary for Germany to prevent the Allies from getting these supplies. It was in the effort to do this that the German spy system became so widespread in the United States.

The German government had always kept in direct touch with a number of Germans in America, and in indirect touch with a great many more. So when Germany needed help in America, she called on the German-Americans to hinder in every way possible the sending of aid to Great Britain and France. The United States could not allow any one to blow up American factories and railroads and start strikes among American workmen. Consequently the United States Secret Service and its fellow agencies set to work, and the great fight was on.

The opponents, the German Intelligence Office and the American Secret Service, were not so unevenly matched as one might imagine. What advantage the Germans lost by being in the enemy's country they made up by being prepared far in advance, and by knowing just what they wanted to do. And there is always an advantage on the side of the hunted animal. Let us see briefly just what each organization was like.

The German service in its heyday was a fearful and wonderful thing. Little by little, as spies were "shadowed," captured, and their papers examined, the whole far-reaching tangle was revealed. One can tell only a little here about this tangle--for to tell it all would take more books than one.

In the German system there were five or six names to be remembered. Count von Bernstorff, the German Ambassador and chief plotter; Dr. Heinrich Albert, his assistant and treasurer; Franz von Rintelen, reported to be a near relative to the Kaiser; Captain Franz von Papen, the military attaché; and his partner, Captain Boy-Ed, the naval attaché. From this group at the top, the lines spread down, through business men, doctors, editors, clerks, butlers, and every rank and class in America. "Big Bill" Flynn, for many years the clever chief of the Secret Service, said that he thought there were 250,000 men and women in this country who were working for Germany. Sad to say, not all of them were German by birth; a few, the most dangerous, were native Americans, although they were Germans at heart. Everywhere, in the most unexpected places, these German agents were found, always busily carrying out their orders with regular German blindness, and never questioning or knowing anything about the hideous acts of their superiors. The German machine was, in short, like a huge wheel, with the brains at the hub.

The United States fought this contemptible creation with several weapons. The Secret Service was of course the most active; but it was very greatly helped by the Department of Justice, the Naval Intelligence, and the Military Intelligence, as well as by the police departments in the various cities. In fact, one of the greatest troubles at times was that too many agencies would be working on the same case. They stepped on each other's heels.

All these branches grew in size during the war, but especially the Naval and Military Intelligence offices. As early as January, 1916, patriotic citizens were quietly serving their government, all unknown even to their own friends, and were collecting pieces of information and hints here and there that, in the end, were of great value. If the Germans had spies in every nook and cranny of our nation, so did we--business men, secretaries, cooks, doctors, and laborers. The Secret Service was everywhere. Again and again, when some devoted German was busily doing his duty to his Fatherland, an American Secret Service agent would lay a hand on his shoulder and show him a ticket to a prison camp. And then, so curious is the German way of thinking, nine times out of ten the German, intensely surprised and very cross at being caught in the act, would insist that he was doing nothing, and that he had a perfect right to do it!

Now watch the two forces at war. The German machine was working quietly along, now and then blowing up a factory and now and then being caught red-handed. It had already suffered a severe loss, for Captain von Papen, the military attaché, had been discovered in his work by the British and had been deported. When he reached Germany, by the way, he was given the Order of the Red Eagle by the Kaiser, who doubtless recognized in the bungling plotter a fellow spirit. Thanks to the information gained from von Papen's papers, the United States had a very good idea of what the other Germans in America were doing and began to make arrests.

Every afternoon at about five o'clock Dr. Albert, the ambassador's assistant, would leave his office at 45 Broadway, New York, and take the elevated railroad uptown to his luxurious rooms in the German Club. He always carried with him a brown leather dispatch case. The Secret Service men, who had been keeping an eye on him, determined to get that case, because they knew from the way the doctor always held on to it, that it must contain something important. A wise member of the Service was chosen to make the coup.

He watched the German closely for many days, and saw that the doctor took a train just at five o'clock every day; that, on the train, he read his evening paper very intently (possibly to see which one of his friends had been arrested last); and that he always walked through the same streets from the railroad to his club. Finally one day the agent decided that he was ready to try for that little brown case.

That evening a quiet, well-mannered gentleman, not noticeable in any particular way, took the seat next to Dr. Albert on the train. The doctor spread out his paper with true German disregard for the persons on each side of him, and began to read. Always he held the flat brown case clutched against his side. The train passed several stations and still the doctor hugged his case. Although the car was packed with people, the American carefully avoided crushing against the spy, for fear of alarming him. More stations were left behind, and the doctor had nearly finished his paper. The Secret Service man was getting worried; would he fail? And there were the papers, so close to him. Then the train stopped at the next to the last station. At the same minute Dr. Albert completed his reading, and for the fraction of a moment raised his arm to fold the sheets. With lightning quickness the agent slid the dispatch case away from the doctor's side and stood up. Two or three people jostled him, and he staggered against the doctor. Then he lunged for the door. The doctor finished folding his paper and felt for his case. It was gone. He jumped to his feet and glared around him wildly.

"Conductor!" he shouted, "My case! It is gone!"

The gates of the car clanged shut and the train started slowly. Down the stairs to the street went the American, quietly and confidently, with the brown leather case under his arm. On the train, Dr. Albert, white of face, was bitterly calling on his German Gott to find his case for him!

The next day, and the next, and for many days thereafter, a few modest lines of advertising appeared in New York papers, saying that a brown leather case had been lost on an elevated train and that a small reward would be paid for its return. The advertisement stated that the case was of no value to anyone but the owner. The poor doctor did not dare call attention to his loss by sounding too loud an alarm, for he knew what was in the bag.

"Of no value to anyone but the owner!" Not to ninety-nine people out of a hundred, perhaps; but the hundredth man had the case, and he and his chief knew what to make of it.

On a windy morning in April, 1916, two American secret agents, dressed, as always, in civilian clothes, were walking down Wall Street toward number 60. From information obtained through the capture of several spies, they knew that in an office at 60 Wall Street a big, polite German, Wolf von Igel, was running an advertising agency that was not an advertising agency. They knew further that Wolf was one of the chief plotters, and that he kept many of the most important German plans locked in a big burglar-proof safe, on which was painted the Imperial German seal. Lastly, and this explains why the two agents were walking to his office at exactly that hour, they knew that some especially important plans would be in the safe and that another dangerous spy would be talking to von Igel. This piece of knowledge had come through one of the many underground ways which so puzzled the Germans. It may have been a "tip" from some American agent who was secretly working with the Germans to spy on them.

The Americans pushed open the door, hurried right past the clerk in the outer office, and entered the inner room. Von Igel, who was bending over a packet of papers, looked up.

"I'll trouble you for those papers, von Igel," said one of the Americans, stepping up to him.

The startled German shoved him back, leaped to the safe door, and slammed it shut. But before he had time to give the knob a twirl, the Secret Service men were upon him. In rushed the clerk, and for a few minutes the four men wrestled and struggled madly all around the little room. But the Americans were powerful, and they had help at hand. They threw the Germans down and sat on them to rest, while the frightened Germans protested.

"You have no right to do this," panted von Igel. "This is the property of the Imperial German Government, and cannot be broken into this way!"

"That'll be all right," answered one American. "You see it has been broken into."

The papers, seventy pounds of them, were packed up and taken away,--with the Germans. As the men were leaving the office, they met the other spy, who was just arriving. It did not take much persuasion to make him go along too.

The German Ambassador, von Bernstorff, raised a frightful uproar over this, and claimed that the papers were his. This was a sad mistake on his part, because, when the letters were opened and the plans read, he was asked to remember that he had said they were his. There was enough proof in that seventy pounds to convince even a German. Among other things there came to light their conspiracies to undermine the citizenship of other countries. But now all this was made worse than useless, for its discovery not only laid bare the plot, but also told the names of all the men who were taking part in it. It was the biggest victory scored by either side, and the credit for it goes to our regular Secret Service.

Three of the heads of the German beast in America had now been cut off. There remained only von Bernstorff. He lasted nine months longer than the others. The government has not yet told the world all the details of the ambassador's last great defeat, but some were as follows--

Germany now knew that if she were to win at all, it must be immediately. So she decided to carry on her ruthless submarine warfare, and sink all the ships she could, no matter to whom they belonged. She realized that it would make America declare war on her, and in order to offset her coming in, she hit upon the idea of having Mexico attack her on the South, and if possible, Japan on the West. She did not stop to think (she had no time for that) that Japan was one of the Allies, and of course would not make war against her. Perhaps she believed Japan would not remain faithful to the Allies.

So the Foreign Office in Berlin wrote to von Bernstorff in Washington, and he in turn was to write to Mexico. The success of the whole scheme depended on secrecy. The arrangements must be made without the United States knowing anything about it. Once again a heavy responsibility was thrown upon our Secret Service. How did they carry it?

We have already seen that the Service had its agents in the most unsuspected places. One of the most unsuspected of them all must have gotten to work, for within a week the Service knew that something unusually mysterious was going on inside the German Embassy. Patiently the resourceful agents worked and worked, bit by bit, until at last--they won. They secured the most necessary document of the whole case, the one which Germany was most anxious to keep secret. When it was made public, it caused the greatest sensation of years. Here it is:--

"Berlin, January 19, 1917.

(To von Eckhardt, the German Minister in Mexico.)

"On the first of February we intend to begin submarine warfare unrestricted. In spite of this it is our intention to endeavor to keep neutral the United States of America.

"If this attempt is not successful, we propose an alliance on the following basis with Mexico: that we shall make war together and together make peace. We shall give general financial support, and it is understood that Mexico is to recover the lost territory in New Mexico, Texas, and Arizona. The details are left to you for settlement.

"You are instructed to inform the President of Mexico of the above in greatest confidence, as soon as it is certain that there will be an outbreak of war with the United States, and suggest that the President of Mexico on his own initiative should communicate with Japan, suggesting adherence to this plan. At the same time offer to mediate between Germany and Japan.

"Please call to the attention of the President of Mexico that the employment of ruthless submarine warfare now promises to compel England to make peace in a few months."

"Zimmermann."

Alfred Zimmermann was the German Foreign Minister.

The German defense to this piece of absolute proof was what we have since learned to expect from Germans;--

"We were not doing it. And anyway, it was not unfriendly, and we had a perfect right to do it."

The once great German machine was now without its leaders, and all it could do was to carry on a number of small local agitations, with no directing intelligence. A very few months after the publication of the Zimmermann letter, the United States itself went into the war. Then the constant struggle between detectives and enemy-aliens became even more serious. A new problem faced the Secret Service and its co-workers. That was to keep the German spies over here from sending to Germany information that would be of value to her in a military way. No knowledge of the movements of troops, of fleets, or of supplies must be allowed to leave America. At all costs the war plans must be kept secret.