Part 28

The system of plant protection provided, first of all, for a physical examination of the munition factories of the country with a view to minimizing the danger of their destruction by fire. Basing their plans on the estimates of the insurance companies that 85 per cent of all fires are the result of carelessness, the inspectors sent out by the section insisted, as a measure essential to the success of their work, on a systematic and wholesale house-cleaning, the wave of cleanliness which struck those American plants engaged in the manufacture of munitions during the first year of the war being directly traceable to the orders of the Plant Protection Section. The officers of the section next turned their attention to measures for the prevention of sabotage and the fomentation of labor troubles by enemy agents, which was accomplished by the introduction of what was known as the “interior organization system.” This consisted in the establishment within the plant of a complete espionage system, composed of old and trusted employees, who worked as Secret Service agents, and were unknown to one another. In cases where it was deemed necessary, this body was re-enforced by trained and experienced operatives from the Plant Protection Section, who usually obtained positions as workmen in the plant without the knowledge of the management. By this means the perpetrators of many cases of sabotage were discovered, incipient strikes were prevented, agitators and professional trouble-makers were kept under surveillance, and, if their actions warranted, were placed under arrest, and an unceasing watch kept on the movements of enemy agents. The campaign of sabotage and destruction which German sympathizers had been conducting almost unchecked was abruptly halted, for so wide-spread and efficient was the section’s organization that the enemy agent was constantly haunted by the fear that his most trusted confederate might be a secret operative who was watching his every action. Though it never had more than 400 active agents (this does not include, of course, the enormous number of volunteer operatives recruited from the workers themselves), the section extended its protection to more than 37,000 manufacturing plants, and, during the period of its war-time operations, made upward of 270,000 recommendations for arrests, investigations, and prosecutions, or for further plant protection.

Agents of the Plant Protection Section succeeded in gaining admission to the innermost councils of the I. W. W. and kindred organizations, and, by thus obtaining advance notice of any contemplated action, were successful in averting strikes and labor troubles which would have caused the loss of millions of dollars, and, through halting the flow of munitions to the front, the loss of thousands of American lives. The success of the section in this phase of its work was due, first, as I have already explained, to its ability to obtain advance information of impending trouble, and, secondly, to the fact that the agents of the section were in a position to handle a delicate labor situation in an absolutely impartial manner, taking no sides and inspiring the confidence of both employers and employees. Thus it came about that the section was frequently able to compose differences between capital and labor when other arbitrators, who did not so completely hold the confidence of both parties to the dispute, failed.

After the Armistice the activities of the section consisted, in the main, in protecting the government against fraudulent claims presented by manufacturers and in guarding the great plants and warehouses which were abandoned upon the cancellation of war contracts. In one case the section obtained and prepared evidence for a grand jury which so conclusively showed fraud on the part of certain manufacturers holding government contracts, that another concern, which had already presented claims amounting to $600,000, upon learning that they were being investigated by agents of the section, hurriedly withdrew them. Another example of the efficiency which characterized the work of the section is illustrated by the case of a concern engaged in the manufacture of shells, the evidence presented by the section resulting in the indictment of the president and ten other officials of the company for submitting shells to the government for inspection under fraudulent circumstances.

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The difficult, perplexing, and highly delicate work connected with the various phases of the censorship was intrusted to the Tenth Section of Military Intelligence, a number of subsections being established for the censorship of mail matter, telegraphs and telephones, radio, books and permanent literature, foreign-language newspapers, religious and pacifist publications, photographs, motion-pictures, and mail to or from prisoners of war.

To assume censorship of the mails was a new experience to our government, for it was in direct opposition to American customs and traditions and was extremely repugnant to a large and influential section of the American people. It was undertaken, indeed, only after its necessity had been urgently and repeatedly emphasized by our allies. Early in the war France had taken over the censorship of the Swiss mails, leaving to England the supervision of the mails to and from Holland and the Scandinavian countries. Little attention had been paid, however, to the Spanish, Mexican, and Central and South American mails, save when they passed through the postal barrier erected by the Allied censorship around the neutral states of Europe. The first problem that faced the American censors, therefore, was to close the channels of information leading into Germany through Spain, or out of Germany, via Spain, to the Americas, Spain being in constant communication with Berlin by a powerful system of wireless. Upon our entrance into the war it became imperative to close this gap in the news blockade which was in force against the enemy. This done, the only possible way for a German sympathizer in the western hemisphere to communicate with Germany was indirectly, through an intermediary in a neutral country, it becoming necessary for a German agent in South America, for example, to direct his communications to some confederate in Holland or Scandinavia. Such communications, which were usually disguised as innocent social or business letters, but in reality contained concealed messages in code, cipher, or invisible ink, would then be transcribed by the confederate in the neutral country and forwarded to the particular bureau of the German Government for which they were intended, either by special courier or through ordinary postal channels.

Owing to the peculiar position of the United States and its distance from the actual battle-front, about 95 per cent of its postal-censorship work was negative in character and only 5 per cent positive, these terms, “negative” and “positive,” being used in the same sense as they applied to other activities of Military Intelligence. By far the greater part of the mail that required censorship was of a nature which might have caused social unrest, labor troubles, or even rebellion in this country. Only a comparatively small number of letters were intercepted which brought positive information concerning the plans of the enemy or of neutrals. In studying this positive information it was necessary for the censors to keep constantly in mind the fact that the enemy intentionally permitted false information to be sent out, which, were it taken at its face value, might lead us to alter our plans or to relax our efforts. For periods of two or three months, perhaps longer, immediately preceding each of the great German offensives, there trickled into the offices of the censor scores of letters depicting in heartrending terms the social unrest and the appalling food conditions in the Fatherland.

Early in 1918 the United States, following the example of France and England, established large chemical laboratories in New York and Washington, where thousands of letters were subjected to tests for invisible ink. The usual letter-paper which is used for communications in invisible ink can be given minor tests without altering its appearance. These preliminary tests are for the purpose of ascertaining whether the paper has been moistened or subjected to other treatment preparatory to the use of invisible ink. In case the minor tests show the paper has received some unusual treatment, a major test is given which results in developing any invisible writing, though it at the same time affects the texture and color of the stationery so that it is impossible to restore it to its original appearance. Practically all mail to or from persons on the suspect lists kept by England, France, and the United States was subjected to such examination.

By assuming the censorship of the Spanish, West Indian, and Latin American mails, the American authorities were able to break up the trade relations which up to that time had existed between German sympathizers in the United States and German forwarding agents in South America. In the latter months of the war Germany found herself in desperate need of rubber in any form for use in electrical devices, particularly for the construction of electrical apparatus to be used in torpedoes and submarines. Hence we find the censorship intercepting suspicious orders for such goods as dental rubber, tobacco-pouches, rubber soles and heels. The censorship also intercepted and confiscated hundreds of tons of German propaganda literature prepared by German agents in Spain and intended for distribution in Latin America. Had this propaganda reached the German agents in South and Central America to whom it was addressed and had it been distributed in accordance with their plans, it would unquestionably have resulted in great social unrest, political demonstrations, and revolutions, if not, indeed, in actual war between certain Latin American countries, thus interrupting our supply of certain products essential to the manufacture of munitions. Had the Germans, for example, succeeded in starting a war between Chile and Bolivia over the Tacna-Arica question, our supply of Chilean nitrates, which we imported in enormous quantities, in all probability would have been cut off. In fact, it was the likelihood of just such an occurrence which led us to spend millions of dollars in the erection of nitrate plants in the United States, thus making us independent of the Chilean nitrate beds. The censorship was likewise largely responsible for preventing revolutions which were planned to take place simultaneously in Cuba and Mexico. German agents had planned to launch a revolution in the Oriente province of Cuba with a view to burning the cane-fields, while at the same time an insurrection was to break out in the Tampico district of Mexico, thus providing an excuse for the destruction of the oil-wells. Had this plan been successful—and it came much nearer being successful than most persons realize—our main sources of supply for oil and sugar would have disappeared. But the plotters in Cuba were indiscreet enough to discuss their plans in letters sent to their representatives in the United States; these letters were intercepted by the postal censors, and a few days later a transport, loaded to the gunwales with American Marines, set sail for Guantanamo. The commander of the Marines had orders to prevent the peace of the island republic from being disturbed. And he did. For which we—and the Cubans—have to thank the postal censors.

It did not take the government long to realize that, if the cable and postal censorships were to be made sufficiently water-tight to prevent our military secrets leaking through to the enemy, it would be necessary to reinforce them with a censorship of photographs and motion-picture films. Accordingly, the Censorship Section of Military Intelligence was charged, in addition to its numerous other duties, with the censorship of all pictures taken by military photographers for the use of the Committee on Public Information and for other publicity purposes, as well as of those taken for commercial purposes by private concerns. In order to keep our own people, as well as those of the Allied and neutral countries, acquainted with the progress which the United States was making in the business of war, scores of cameramen belonging to the Photographic Section of the Signal Corps were sent out, at the request of the Committee on Public Information, to take pictures at the cantonments, training-camps, and munition factories in this country and in the theatres of operations overseas. As, however, there were countless details of our equipment, munitions, training methods, and the like of which the enemy must be kept in ignorance, it was imperative that all such pictures be carefully examined and passed upon before being released for publication or exhibition. And, moreover, they must be passed upon by men who were authorities on the various phases of the army with which the pictures dealt. That it was a matter which could not be left with safety to amateurs was emphasized by an incident which occurred in October, 1918, when the great Allied offensive was at its height. One Sunday morning the officers of the General Staff were astounded to see, in the illustrated supplement of a New York newspaper, detailed photographs of the new French howitzers, the very existence of which up to that time had been one of the most carefully guarded secrets of the Allies. The young officer who passed the pictures for publication explained that, not being an artilleryman, the howitzers looked like any other guns to him. A few weeks later the Staff was again surprised and angered to see another secret—the small tanks which were being manufactured in this country—revealed in the same paper. Here was another case of an officer having passed a photograph dealing with a subject of which he was ignorant. In order to prevent a repetition of such blunders, the Censorship Section arranged to work in close co-operation with the Chief Naval Censor and with experts in the offices of the Chief of Coast Artillery, the Chief of Field Artillery, the Chief of Ordnance, the Director of Military Aeronautics, the Bureau of Aircraft Production, the quartermaster-general and the surgeon-general, these experts being consulted in regard to all pictures relating to their respective arms of the service. With their assistance a series of precedents was established and a set of regulations for the censorship of photographs was evolved. Among the pictures withheld from the public were those dealing with new inventions of military significance, such as radio telephony; with all examples of military and naval camouflage, and with the various new types of artillery, especially those on tractor mounts. Such photographs as were not released were placed in the archives of the War College to become a permanent part of the pictorial history of the war, while those which were passed were turned over to the Committee on Public Information for distribution to the various agencies which were in a position to give them the greatest publicity. There was also an informal, intimate, and extremely valuable service which the section was able to perform. As pictures were received from the A. E. F., a systematic effort was made to furnish to the relatives and friends of soldiers serving overseas copies of the photographs or sections of the films in which their loved ones appeared, of the hospitals in which they were being treated, or of the spots where they were buried. As a result of this official thoughtfulness, comfort was given to many a lonely wife, many an anxious parent.

A no less important phase of the section’s activities was the censorship of still and motion pictures taken for commercial use at home and abroad and the supervision of the firms and individuals taking them. When one remembers that “The Birth of a Nation” is estimated to have been seen by 60,000,000 people, a realization can be had of the enormous possibilities of the motion-picture for purposes of propaganda and the necessity of subjecting it to rigid censorship. Whenever a picture contained a suggestion of enemy propaganda, or when the policy of a producing company appeared to be antagonistic to the interests of the United States, a systematic investigation was started to determine the loyalty of the officers of the organization and the source of its financial backing. If the enemy propaganda was evidently intentional, steps were immediately taken to prosecute the producers under the Espionage Act. If, however, as was usually the case, the fault was due to mere ignorance or thoughtlessness, a conference with the persons concerned generally resulted in the alteration or withdrawal of the offending picture.

Exceptional precautions were observed in the censoring of films destined for export. This work was in charge of the Customs Division of the Treasury Department, the films being viewed by a board composed of representatives of the Customs, Military and Naval Intelligence, and the Committee on Public Information. If a member of this board made any objection to a film it was sent to the custom-house for review by another board of censors. If the matter to be deleted was unimportant, the objectionable parts were cut out in the projection room. If the film was approved, a letter of clearance was issued by the Committee on Public Information and an export license was then granted by the War Trade Board; should the film be rejected, the license was, of course, refused.

In censoring commercial films and photographs, every effort was made to prevent the export of pictures which might reveal the war secrets of the United States, which might be distorted and used as enemy propaganda, or which might give a wrong impression of the conditions prevailing in this country. For example, no pictures dealing with the influenza epidemic were permitted to leave the country, for the German Government would almost certainly have used them as proof that the man-power of America was seriously impaired, thus encouraging the German people to prolong their resistance. An export license was refused to a picture showing the effects of a cyclone in Tyler, Texas, because, had it reached Germany, it would, in all probability, have been given a caption something like this: “American city after bombardment by German aircraft.” The fact that there were no German aircraft on this side of the Atlantic would have made no difference; the credulous German public would have greeted such a picture with wild applause. As a matter of fact, thousands of pictures of crumbling castles in England and of French ruins dating from the Crusades were used in such manner by the Germans. For a similar reason, the beautiful poster drawn by Joseph Pennell for the Fourth Liberty Loan, depicting New York City in ruins as the result of a raid by German aircraft, was not permitted to go abroad, for it would have been only too easy for the German Government to publish it as an official picture of the devastation wrought by German airmen in the American metropolis. I have wondered, indeed, why the German propaganda bureau did not publish a picture of Pompeii with a caption to the effect that it was an Italian city destroyed by the Austrian fleet.

Some curious schemes were perfected by German agents in the United States to convey messages to Germany in spite of the censorship. A set of films depicting cannibal life in the South Seas aroused the suspicions of the censors because of the irregularity of the perforations and because of certain mysterious numbers appearing along the edges. The films were finally passed for export, but not until the perforations and numbers had been trimmed off. On another occasion the censor seized an advertising folder, issued by a famous New York department store, which contained a photograph of an exceedingly good-looking young woman wearing an embroidered blouse and a plaid skirt, such as the store was offering for sale. The picture showed the young woman standing beside a table, holding in one hand a volume which, upon close inspection, was found to bear the peculiar title _The Laborer’s Catechism_. Some bright mind in the Censorship Section deduced that this title was really the key to a code message, and that the message itself was contained in the embroidery on the blouse. The story, which appeared to have all the elements of a first-class spy tale, was spoiled, however, by the unromantic code experts of M I 8, who professed themselves unable to find any message concealed in the embroidery. Both the department store and the photographers who took the picture were entirely absolved of any attempt to communicate with the enemy, and the young woman herself was found in a hospital, desperately ill with influenza. When the agents of the Department of Justice visited the hospital some time later for the purpose of interrogating her, it was found that she had left for parts unknown. Whether the message was embroidery or imaginary I do not pretend to say. I merely repeat the story because it illustrates the extreme caution exercised by the Censorship Section. Knowing the cunning of the Teuton, it was taking no chances.

Speaking of false scents in the tracking of spies, I remember being told in England of an old lady, apparently a woman of some means, living in a suburb of London, who was accustomed to write several times a week to her daughter in Austria. The letters, being addressed to an enemy country, were, of course, opened by the censor. Though there was nothing in the communications themselves which could, by any stretch of the imagination, be interpreted as treason, the suspicions of the officials were instantly aroused by the discovery that each letter contained three new playing-cards. One letter might contain, for example, the ace of hearts, the ten of clubs, and the king of diamonds; in the next letter, posted a few days later, would be the seven and the nine of spades and the king of hearts. Here was a code which baffled every expert in the United Kingdom. British Intelligence, the Censor’s Bureau, and the Criminal Investigation Department of Scotland Yard all tried to ferret out the mystery of the cards, but without success. Every conceivable test was applied to both the letters and the cards for codes, ciphers, and invisible writing, but without an atom of success. At length the old lady, whose every movement had been shadowed for weeks, was summoned to Scotland Yard and questioned. When the chief inquisitor suddenly demanded of her why she enclosed playing-cards in her letters to her daughter, she replied: “My daughter is a great bridge-player, and when I read in the newspapers that it was impossible to get cards in Austria, I thought I would slip three or four cards into every letter. In that way, you see, I would be able to send her a pack every five or six weeks.”