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Authors: James Hayward
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Director of B Division, and a talented amateur cellist to boot, chose this moment to open a war diary, which over
the next few weeks would swing unsteadily between paranoid fancy and languid inertia. With Hitler’s chief spy in England still at large, and transmitting freely to Hamburg, Liddell’s
entries at the end of August seemed somewhat complacent: ‘At the request of the Home Office we have agreed that nobody on our lists of Nazi Party members or suspects should be stopped at
ports unless we have very special reasons for holding them.’ Elsewhere, a supposedly credible source swore that Hitler had got the jitters. ‘He even suggests that if the order were now
given it is doubtful whether the Germans would march.’
Despite such woolly thinking, the Security Service hurriedly expanded onto a war footing. With space at a premium at their central London premises, however, large parts of MI5 had to be
relocated four miles west to Wormwood Scrubs, a grim Victorian prison complex in the hinterlands of Hammersmith. Evacuation of the previous occupants took several days, resulting in chaos, overlap
and no little bemusement. Several staffstumbled upon unemptied chamber pots in the malodorous cells now requisitioned as offices, while one Registry girl spotted her
father’s solicitor among the prisoners taking exercise in the yard. ‘Don’t go near them,’ warned a vigilant warder. ‘Some of them ain’t seen no women for
years.’
The steady stream of ‘Mayfair types’ heading through the imposing Gothic gateway each morning also attracted unwanted attention. On reaching the prison, several among the more
waggish bus conductors took to calling out loudly: ‘All change for MI5.’
As August gave way to September, others inside the Scrubs were also disinclined to view the prospect of war too seriously. The ageing Director-General of MI5, Sir Vernon Kell, in post for almost
thirty years, suggested calling in Sir Oswald Mosley and Harry Pollitt for a cosy fireside chat, keen to know ‘what their attitude is’, and confident of obtaining their help in
‘dealing with the Fascist and Communist problem.’
Adolf Hitler cared less. At dawn on Friday, 1 September, 1939, several small commando units from the Abwehr’s elite Brandenburg battalion crossed the Polish border, followed by almost 2
million troops and 2,000 combat aircraft. Two weeks later Stalin’s Red Army joined in the pillage from the east. Polish resistance was heroic and fierce, but would crumble in just four
weeks.
The Second World War had begun.
3
OIK Calling Hamburg
On the morning of Saturday, 2 September 1939, again at 04.30, Colonel Johnny buzzed Wohldorf from the bathroom at Parklands, encrypting his message in CONGRATULATIONS code, and
using a highly apposite call-sign: OIK.
‘Situation in England extremely serious. Planes loaded Biggin Hill, Hornchurch. Blenheims. Will radio during day. Stand by day and
night.’
Wohldorf stood by, but no updates followed, and as the day developed the atmosphere grew increasingly sultry and oppressive, conveying to many a sense of impending doom. On Saturday night a
series of violent thunderstorms swept the country, cutting power and communications, and causing panic in Portsmouth when four barrage balloons were struck by lightning, lighting up the night sky
with clouds of eerie, floating flame. Quite literally, war was in the air. Although Sunday morning dawned bright and sunny, tension continued to mount as cathedrals and churches filled to
overflowing, the nation hoping against hope for a miracle, some small retreat from the edge of the precipice.
As Arthur Owens fiddled nervously with his wayward klamotten most listeners tuned in to the BBC. The first news bulletin at 07.00 confirmed that Hitler had failed to respond to the Allied
ultimatum issued two days earlier, and that German forces remained inside Poland. Finally, at 11.15, the Prime Ministeraddressed the nation. Now a frail old
the next few weeks would swing unsteadily between paranoid fancy and languid inertia. With Hitler’s chief spy in England still at large, and transmitting freely to Hamburg, Liddell’s
entries at the end of August seemed somewhat complacent: ‘At the request of the Home Office we have agreed that nobody on our lists of Nazi Party members or suspects should be stopped at
ports unless we have very special reasons for holding them.’ Elsewhere, a supposedly credible source swore that Hitler had got the jitters. ‘He even suggests that if the order were now
given it is doubtful whether the Germans would march.’
Despite such woolly thinking, the Security Service hurriedly expanded onto a war footing. With space at a premium at their central London premises, however, large parts of MI5 had to be
relocated four miles west to Wormwood Scrubs, a grim Victorian prison complex in the hinterlands of Hammersmith. Evacuation of the previous occupants took several days, resulting in chaos, overlap
and no little bemusement. Several staffstumbled upon unemptied chamber pots in the malodorous cells now requisitioned as offices, while one Registry girl spotted her
father’s solicitor among the prisoners taking exercise in the yard. ‘Don’t go near them,’ warned a vigilant warder. ‘Some of them ain’t seen no women for
years.’
The steady stream of ‘Mayfair types’ heading through the imposing Gothic gateway each morning also attracted unwanted attention. On reaching the prison, several among the more
waggish bus conductors took to calling out loudly: ‘All change for MI5.’
As August gave way to September, others inside the Scrubs were also disinclined to view the prospect of war too seriously. The ageing Director-General of MI5, Sir Vernon Kell, in post for almost
thirty years, suggested calling in Sir Oswald Mosley and Harry Pollitt for a cosy fireside chat, keen to know ‘what their attitude is’, and confident of obtaining their help in
‘dealing with the Fascist and Communist problem.’
Adolf Hitler cared less. At dawn on Friday, 1 September, 1939, several small commando units from the Abwehr’s elite Brandenburg battalion crossed the Polish border, followed by almost 2
million troops and 2,000 combat aircraft. Two weeks later Stalin’s Red Army joined in the pillage from the east. Polish resistance was heroic and fierce, but would crumble in just four
weeks.
The Second World War had begun.
3
OIK Calling Hamburg
On the morning of Saturday, 2 September 1939, again at 04.30, Colonel Johnny buzzed Wohldorf from the bathroom at Parklands, encrypting his message in CONGRATULATIONS code, and
using a highly apposite call-sign: OIK.
‘Situation in England extremely serious. Planes loaded Biggin Hill, Hornchurch. Blenheims. Will radio during day. Stand by day and
night.’
Wohldorf stood by, but no updates followed, and as the day developed the atmosphere grew increasingly sultry and oppressive, conveying to many a sense of impending doom. On Saturday night a
series of violent thunderstorms swept the country, cutting power and communications, and causing panic in Portsmouth when four barrage balloons were struck by lightning, lighting up the night sky
with clouds of eerie, floating flame. Quite literally, war was in the air. Although Sunday morning dawned bright and sunny, tension continued to mount as cathedrals and churches filled to
overflowing, the nation hoping against hope for a miracle, some small retreat from the edge of the precipice.
As Arthur Owens fiddled nervously with his wayward klamotten most listeners tuned in to the BBC. The first news bulletin at 07.00 confirmed that Hitler had failed to respond to the Allied
ultimatum issued two days earlier, and that German forces remained inside Poland. Finally, at 11.15, the Prime Ministeraddressed the nation. Now a frail old
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