I read an account of the capture of this friend by the Germans in Finland—I knew what that meant. I mourned his loss for two whole years. Poor devil! How I pitied him and his fate! But the Secret Service is ever one of surprise and surprises. On April 7th, 1920, I received a letter from the much-lamented departed, "chipping" me in great glee, adding that he had left this branch of service only a few months after I myself had retired hurt, because, to use his own words, "the War Office refused to give me any honours of any kind."
As would be expected, he went straight out to France, where his valour in the field immediately earned some half-dozen mentions in despatches, the D.S.O. and other decorations. Knowing his bravery, skill, and marvellous work whilst abroad in the Secret Service, it seems unbelievable that Home Authorities (who apparently decorated every inmate of the Whitehall Offices, and even telephone girls who retained their stools whilst Zepps were about!) could wilfully ignore such services as his.
That this was not an exceptional case, I may add that I do not know, nor have I ever heard of, even one solitary honour or recognition being bestowed by our own Government upon a soul who actively served abroad in the Foreign Secret Service; although I do know of highly-coveted decorations being offered and given from abroad, which would-be recipients declined, or dare not accept, because of those above and around them.
Personally I doubt whether any responsible member of the British Foreign Secret Service ever really troubled himself one iota about such trivial matters as decorations—as such. An ambition to climb to the highest rung of acknowledged service to one's country was another matter.
The sporting element of discomfiting and checkmating the Huns seemed to be the one thought uppermost in their minds, whilst, if any time for reflection was ever found, it was generally passed in cursing politicians at home for curtailing activities by shortage of funds, and Ministers abroad for not following Nelson's patriotic ophthalmic action at the battle of Copenhagen.
Speaking for myself, I can only say that my greatest joys in life have been consummated in successful big-game shooting. My employment in the Foreign Secret Service gave me opportunities at far Bigger Game than my wildest dreams had ever led me to hope for.
I enjoyed to the full every minute of those activities. I would not have missed them for a king's ransom; whilst now I rest in the consolation that if my past life thitherto had been useless and of little worth to the world at large or to anyone in it, I was, during the period of my then employment, striving to accomplish a better thing than I had ever done, to help to victory the noblest cause this world has ever known.
"JIM."
THE END