Three Men Who Gave The Cabinet Jitters
(By ROBERT GLENTON)
THIS IS THE STORY, told for the first time, of the most astonishing spy scare that ever shook high authority in Britain.
It rocked the nerves of the Cabinet: had M.I.5 in a state of jitters.
BUT let us begin at the beginning.
It was a soft spring evening in 1941. History was being made. And you sense drama in the air of Britain.
Hitler was massing an invasion army only 20 miles across the Channel.
The coast of Britain was being wrapped in snakes of rusty barbed wire. The beaches .were mined. The concrete road blocks were in position.
On that gentle evening three men begged in a Soho street. Two policemen stopped them and asked for their identity cards. They didn't have any. They spoke only French.
They were escorted to Cannon Row Police Station beside Scotland Yard in Whitehall. There an inspector knew enough French to become very excited over their story.
THEIR STORY
THEY said they had escaped from France a few days before, landed on the coast of England in full daylight without being spotted, and hitch-hiked to London through prohibited areas.
The Home Secretary was immediately informed. So was Mr. Churchill.
From Cabinet level came the urgent order: "Investigate to the fullest and let us know how such a thing could have happened. Where is the weak spot in the country's defences?
MI5 was instructed to investigate the men as thoroughly as it knew how.
Lieut-Colonel Oreste Pinto, whom General Eisenhower has described as "the greatest living expert on security" — was sent for.
The beggars were moved to the Royal Victoria Patriotic School in South London.
There, in a large room, empty of furniture except for a long, bare table and a few chairs, Colonel Pinto met them.
They were an ill-assorted lot. The first was a young lad in his teens.
The second was stocky, square-shouldered, and built like a wrestler.
The third was clearly the ringleader. He called himself Monsieur Magis.
Colonel Pinto decided that a joint interview would be of no use. He dismissed the three men, then called in the soft-faced boy, who came back frightened and restless.
Speaking in French he said they had arrived in a grey painted sailing boat on a sandy, sloping English beach where there were no rocks, at about 2 p.m. one day.
Colonel Pinto dismissed the boy, sent for the second man and asked him what time they landed.
The man screwed up his cunning-looking face in a pretence at concentration. Then said: "It would be — let me see — about nine o'clock in the morning."
"Thank you," said the colonel.
SELF-CONFIDENT
OUT went the second " man and in came Monsieur Magis. Very self-confident, given a chair, he lolled back in it. His version of the landing was that they had used a bright red coloured rowing-boat and landed on a rocky coast.
Colonel Pinto, sent for the other two men. Then looking at the three he said: "I am looking at three liars. Three very stupid liars.
"Now I want the truth. Why have you come here?
"The answer is simple. . . You are three spies.
"Do you know what we do to spies who are caught? Early one morning after they have had a good breakfast, if they can manage to swallow it, we take them to the scaffold."
Magis said his story was the true one.
The Cabinet pressure grew greater. . . the find-the-truth demand became more urgent. . . every trick of interrogation was used. But the story could not be broken.
Then Colonel Pinto had an idea.
He had Magis transferred to a pitch-dark cell. There he was kept for a day and a night in solitary confinement.
Next morning he was marched under escort and halted in front of a very official-looking table covered with green baize.
Behind the table sat a row of officers, with glittering buttons and Sam Browne belts. In front of each lay his revolver.
Colonel Pinto salt in the centre. Magis stood between guards with bayonets fixed.
Gravely Colonel Pinto said to him: "The cell from which you have come was the condemned cell."
Magis was given two minutes to speak/ before he went to the gallows. He went pale.
The two minutes were up. Magis was still silent.
Colonel Pinto stood up. On his head he placed a square of black silk.
Then he solemnly sentenced Magis to "death."
He waited for Magis to break down. But Magis didn't.
BAFFLED
SO Magis was marched away and the officers looked baffled. Then one of the escorts returned. He said that Magis now wished to speak.
Once more he was brought in. This time he was grinning and, although he was supposed to know no English, he said in English with a Canadian accent.
"Well; sir, I'd better come clean. . . " And he did.
The three men were French-Canadian soldiers who had deserted.
The Cabinet was immediately told that Britain's defences had, after all, not been breached.
The three men were handed over for court martial.
"I never saw Magis again," writes Colonel Pinto in his book, "Spy-Catcher," published in London recently.
"But if he was able to get into action after serving his sentence I have no doubt that he distinguished himself. For he was a brave, resourceful man."
[Trove: Link.]
— Wikipedia: Oreste Pinto.
— Warfare History Network: WWII Spies: Oreste Pinto.
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