In accepting the invitation to write an introduction to certain records of the career of Sir Leonard Wallace, I was actuated not so much by the friendship and admiration I feel for the famous Chief of the Intelligence Corps, as by the fact that I was luckily instrumental in obtaining his services for the department. At the time of which I write, I was Secretary of State for Home Affairs, and Sir Leonard was recuperating, after being discharged from hospital, at the tiny seaside village of Kimmeridge in Dorset. He had been badly wounded in the left arm, and, with his great friend, William Brien, also on sick leave, and his charming wife, Molly, had originally gone to Kimmeridge merely to laze about, as he himself puts it. But that astuteness of his, which since has proved of such great value to the country, enabled him to ferret out a German submarine base actually on the Dorset coast. He immediately travelled up to London, and got into communication with me through his father, the Earl of Westcliff.

The story he told was astounding, and I found the utmost difficulty in crediting it. I was in favour of putting the matter in the hands of the Intelligence Department, and also making arrangements for a force of troops and a squadron of destroyers to proceed to the spot, but Sir Leonard – he was Major Wallace then – pointed out that the Germans would be certain to get wind of the operations against them, and decamp before there was time to invest their headquarters. He declared that he believed it to be not only a submarine base but also a distributing centre from where spies were sent to all parts of Great Britain. In reply to my question concerning what he himself proposed, he put before me a plan that for sheer ingenuity and daring almost took my breath away. He asked to be given charge of the affair, with full authority to call in the aid of the coastguards and troops from Wareham, if necessary. naturally I was very reluctant, but he had impressed me so much by his obvious ability and sagacity that eventually I agreed, not without a great deal of misgiving, however.

The result was stupendous, and reads, even in the cold, official report, like a page from the chronicles of the old Greek and Trojan heroes. It is too long a story to tell here; perhaps some day it may be given to the public – I hope so, for it is quite one of his greatest exploits. Suffice it to say that, with Brien, Cecil Kendal, his brother- in-law, half a dozen troops from the camp at Wareham, and a few coastguards, he actually entered the large cave which the Germans had so ingeniously turned into a secret base and, effecting a complete surprise, captured five submarines and killed or captured their crews. not only that, but he also apprehended several spies. Unfortunately he was shot again in his damaged arm during the fight, with the result that it was later found imperative to amputate it.

In a sense his triumph was one of the greatest feats of the War, for it not only badly interfered with Germany’s submarine campaign but supplied us with a mass of information that was priceless. Major Wallace richly deserved the KCB which was conferred on him and the full rank of colonel to which he was promoted. Brien received his majority and the CMG while others, who took part in the historic exploit, were adequately rewarded.

Without an arm, Sir Leonard’s active military career received a set-back, but it was impossible for such a man to be shelved. I suggested his being attached to the Intelligence Service, a suggestion received with enthusiasm by my colleagues, and immediately acted upon. It was not long before he became head of the bureau, and his work since then has been remarkably successful, bearing always the hall-mark of that astuteness, ingenuity, coolness, and wit which have always placed him above his fellows. Major Brien returned to the front, but after the War, at Sir Leonard’s special request, was transferred to his department.

I am delighted that certain deeds are now to be chronicled and given to the public. They should prove most absorbing to people who are interested in the workings of the Secret Service. Sir Leonard himself, though not actually objecting to the publication of his achievements, would much prefer, I think, that they were lost in obscurity. He is not the man to desire fame or notoriety; rather he prefers seclusion and privacy. His chronicler has, therefore, been forced to fall back on office records and information supplied by various members of the service who, once they understood there was no objection to their divulging certain happenings, eagerly prepared the way for the publication of a few of the exploits of the chief to whom they are all devoted.

Romance and adventure are not dead while there exist men of the type of Sir Leonard Wallace. He proves that fact is stranger than fiction, and into the cold, matter-of-fact atmosphere of the twentieth century brings a flavour of daring enterprise that is reminiscent of more adventurous times. Yet to look at him you would not imagine that there were even the elements of romance and adventure in him, unless he gave you the opportunity of gazing deep into his expressive, steel-grey eyes. He is a slightly-built man of about five feet eight in height with an attractive but by no means handsome face, the curves of which show that he possesses a great sense of humour. He has an easy-going disposition, and rather gives the impression of being a man who loves to loiter his way through life. He has a cool, calculating mind, behind an unruffled exterior, which provides him with the imagination and quick perception that make him so successful in detective work. Perhaps his greatest asset is his unexcitable temperament and perfect self-control. I have known ministers of State exasperated at his nonchalance but, being no respecter of persons, that worries him not at all. I must confess to a sneaking fear that he does not always regard His Majesty’s statesmen with the respect they invariably think is their due.

Sir Leonard himself would be the first to admit that he owes a great deal to those assistants of his of whom the names of Major Brien, Cousins, Maddison, Carter and Shannon come most readily to mind. They have shared dangers and difficulties with him, or undertaken duties at his behest, which would cause the ordinary man to blench. Then there are the others of both sexes distributed throughout the world who, often carrying their lives in their hands, supply him with the information which enables Great Britain to deal with the delicate international situations which constantly arise, and combat the still frequent foreign plots. The agents, who live abroad, generally follow some harmless profession in order to cloak their real activities, but their lives are full of danger, and they know well that once unmasked their chances of avoiding long terms of imprisonment, sometimes even death, are small indeed. Then there is the enormous office staff which deals with the many documents relative to foreign intrigue and international diplomacy. This staff nowadays is directly under the orders of Major Brien, an arrangement that saves Sir Leonard Wallace a considerable amount of routine work.

It is remarkable the degree of proficiency which the Intelligence Department has attained. Every branch dovetails into the others with meticulous exactitude, and the work proceeds day and night, quietly, silently, efficiently. Few people realise what the country owes to the gallant men of this silent service. To them fame and glory seldom come, riches never. often they die shameful, inglorious deaths, honoured only by their colleagues, who mourn them mutely, unable to make public their devotion, or acknowledge them as associates. Theirs is the ideal patriotism, the love of country which takes no account of self, but is prepared to sacrifice home, family, everything for the sake of the land that gave them birth.

I do not feel that I can deal adequately with such a subject. The Secret Service has naturally far more to do with the Foreign office than any other government department, and my political activities were mostly confined to the Home office and law departments. However, as I have stated, I was associated with Sir Leonard Wallace in his first adventure, and I am honoured now to be associated, even though so insignificantly, with a volume narrating a few of his exploits.

C.

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