Our Navy at war

by Josephus Daniels

Lights and signals were not the only means of enemy communication. Some fisherman, seeing the transports in the bay, might go out at night and inform a submarine, which could radio the news to all the U-boats in the vicinity.

These were the conditions that had to be met. Every report of suspicious happenings had to be investigated, and the French were quite willing that the American Navy assume this task, as it was responsible for most of the convoy work through these waters.

With the greatest care and secrecy, forty-five of the most intelligent fishermen who had boats of their own were selected, and formed into a patrol service. Proceeding with their fishing, they were instructed to watch for any sign of submarines or mines and report it immediately. Furthermore, they were to report any mysterious behavior of fishermen or strangers in boats, and any lights or suspicious happenings along the coast. Experienced detectives were employed, with headquarters at Nantes, to investigate all reports. A flood of them came in from the population who, like the French officers, seemed anxious to aid the Americans.

Hundreds of investigations were made, fishermen and residents ashore were aroused to the necessity of reporting everything that seemed likely to aid the enemy, and an intelligence system was built up that was no small factor in making safe the coast of France.

Women spies were found, now and then; quite as dangerous as the men in enemy pay. The most remarkable and pathetic instance, perhaps, was the "Alvarez Case," handled by the French from its beginning to its tragic end.

In the spring of 1917, French agents in Barcelona, Spain, reported that two women known as the Alvarez sisters, were associating with a man strongly suspected of being in the German secret service. Soon afterward they disappeared, and for two months their whereabouts was unknown. The Paris authorities directed that all regions in France, particularly the American zone, be searched for them. They were at last discovered in the seacoast town of Sables d'Olonne, thirty miles south of St. Nazaire, where our troop convoys landed. They were closely watched and when they boarded a train for Bordeaux, evidently attempting to get back to Spain, they were arrested. Upon trial it proved that they had come under the influence of German agents in Spain and had been induced by an offer of 50,000 francs to obtain information, among other things, concerning the American troops disembarking in Brittany.

By this trial the mystery of the blowing up of the French destroyer Enseigne Roux was cleared up. It turned out that the condemned sisters had been closely associated with a French sailor named Gaitton, and evidence pointed to him as having mixed dynamite with the bunker coal on the destroyer. This was not conclusively proved, but Gaitton had enough counts against him to be sentenced to twenty years in a naval prison.

The Alvarez sisters were convicted, and were sentenced to be shot. The execution took place at daybreak in the courtyard of the ancient Chateau of Anne de Bretagne, at Nantes. In the courtyard were assembled the officers in charge of the execution, government officials and witnesses.

The women were led to two posts near the wall of the chateau, and the last words were spoken to them by the priest. At their trial they had confessed all, so there was little left to say. One was in a fainting condition, but the elder of the two proved unusually courageous. She refused to be blindfolded, and stood her ground.

An army officer read the sentence. There was a volley of musketry, and the blindfolded woman dropped to the ground. But the sister who had shown such courage, though mortally wounded, remained erect, and had to be despatched by a shot from a revolver.