III
‘I developed a plan without prejudice to the preparations of Operation Kathleen to organise a minor war in Northern Ireland.
DR HERMANN GÖRTZ, Abwehr agent, May 1940
On 12 May 1940 the war seemed a far and distant prospect to the residents of the sleepy village of Ballivor. Nestled halfway between Mullingar, Co. Westmeath and Trim, Co. Meath, the townsfolk adhered strictly to the government’s neutrality policies, and no lights were lit after dark in an effort to deter any hostile aircraft. As the townsfolk settled into their beds, a Luftwaffe aircraft was preparing to depart Jever Airfield in southern Germany; its destination: Ireland.
The pilot of the Heinkel He111 plane, Karl Eduard Gartenfeld, took off just after nine o’ clock, and began gently climbing to an altitude of 30,000 ft. He had been tasked with a top-secret mission, and carried on board a most secret cargo. In the back of the plane an Abwehr agent dressed in full Luftwaffe uniform and wearing his World War I medals was preparing two parachutes, one for himself and another for the ‘Afu’ transmitter he would use to communicate with Berlin after landing on Irish soil. The agent’s name was Dr Hermann Görtz, the most formidable Nazi spy to be sent to Ireland during World War II, and the real face behind the mysterious Dr Schmelzer mentioned to detectives by Ernst Weber-Drohl.
Hermann Görtz deliberately dressed in his Luftwaffe uniform as, due to international law, he could have been summarily executed if he had entered Ireland in civilian clothing. Both Görtz and Gartenfeld were anticipating enemy interference as they flew over England, but were relieved to find a thick blanket of cloud over most of England, giving them sufficient cover. As the plane passed over Scarborough, Görtz’s fear of being spotted by enemy searchlights faded, and he calmly watched the cloud break up as they passed over the Irish Sea. Soon he would make his jump and land in what he thought was Co. Tyrone. There he would meet with the IRA and help facilitate an uprising, giving Germany a pretext to invade Ireland. If his plan proceeded as he hoped, he would go down in German history as a daring spy and perhaps even be decorated by the Führer himself.
Without having a clear indication of where they were, Gartenfeld encouraged Görtz to jump, assuring him that he would throw the parachute attached to the transmitter after him so that they would reach the ground at the same time. Görtz carried with him $26,000, a Belgian Browning 9-mm pistol and a dagger. The parachute with the transmitter contained two shovels which he would use to bury the parachutes before he went on his way. Gartenfeld gave the signal and Görtz prised open the Heinkel’s door. He braced himself and jumped into the darkness.
As he descended from 1,500 metres, Görtz was unaware that he was severely off target directly over Ballivor, Co. Meath, in neutral Éire. Gartenfeld hastily threw the transmitter out of the plane and returned to the cockpit. On his way back to Germany he was attacked by an RAF night fighter and had no idea if Görtz had landed safely on Irish soil or had been dropped in the Irish Sea. Gartenfeld battled the RAF fighter, eventually losing it in a thick blanket of cloud. He made his way back to Germany and briefed his superiors about the botched drop. Meanwhile Görtz braced himself for landing. As soon as his feet touched Irish soil he went to look for the transmitter, but he couldn’t find it. Utterly dismayed, he searched frantically throughout the entire jump zone for several hours before eventually giving up. To make matters worse he had also lost the shovel to bury his parachute, and eventually decided to hide it under a bush.
Eager to avoid detection, Görtz managed to stay hidden until daylight, when he aroused the suspicions of two local farmers: an elderly man named Andrew Gooney and a younger man named Christopher Reilly, who Görtz would later describe as ‘a half-idiot’. Reilly suffered from a mental disability, and it was he who first discovered Görtz in a dishevelled state lying in a roadside ditch. Gooney later told Gardaí that he saw Reilly cursing at the ditch and beating it with a pitchfork. Afraid that Reilly was ‘having one of his fits’, Gooney chose to keep a safe distance. Eventually Reilly stopped swinging the pitchfork and shouted at Gooney, ‘Come here till you see this old bowsy.’
When Gooney went to investigate he discovered Hermann Görtz lying in a state of distress, attempting to shield himself from another volley of blows from Reilly’s pitchfork. Far from being perturbed by a fully uniformed Nazi lying in the ditch of a local farm, he later told Gardaí he was more afraid of Reilly wielding the pitchfork and shouting in what he described as ‘a most terrifying fashion’. After Reilly ceased his attack Görtz got to his feet and dusted himself off. He gave Reilly a £1 note to calm him down, and promptly asked Gooney for directions to Co. Wicklow.
Görtz decided that since he had missed his landing zone he would have to find somewhere safe to stay, and he knew that he would have a bed for the night if he made his way to Francis Stuart’s house in Laragh, from where he could later arrange to meet with the IRA. Gooney later claimed that Görtz offered him £100 but he turned it down. The authorities found Gooney to be an obstinate and difficult man to interview. G2 officers suspected that he had taken the money and, unbeknownst to Görtz, had hidden his transmitter in a shed on his farm. In fact the transmitter was never seen again. In an interview with Gardaí Gooney ‘remarked someone may have buried it’; it is likely that the transmitter is to this day somewhere in the vicinity of Ballivor.
After this bizarre incident Görtz set off on the long walk to Wicklow, a distance of approximately 90 km. Feeling shaken after his unfortunate encounter with Gooney and Reilly, he decided that he would only travel by night and rest during the day. Passing Kinnegad, Co. Westmeath, he crossed a tributary of the Boyne, and after marching a further considerable distance he discovered that Gardaí had mounted a checkpoint on a bridge crossing the river Boyne itself. Görtz decided to swim across the river to avoid detection by authorities, but in the heat of the moment he forgot that he had ‘G-Tinten’ invisible ink hidden in the shoulder pads of his Luftwaffe coat.
‘G-Tinten’ invisible ink was used for writing by spies. It is invisible either on application or soon thereafter, and can later be made visible, usually by applying a chemical solution to the writing by means of an eye drop or other apparatus. Görtz’s sudden decision to jump into the river was a costly one, as his invisible ink was soon washed away when he entered the water, an unfortunate event, since it was his only supply. After he got out of the water he had a period of fainting spells before eventually making his way to Ballinakill Bog in Carbury, Co. Kildare.
When he reached the bog he decided to remove his uniform tunic, which was eventually recovered by Gardaí. Oddly, Görtz chose to keep his Luftwaffe cap as something to drink out of, as well as his World War I medals. Clad in a sweater, the riding boots he had made the jump in and a black beret, he continued on his way to Laragh, and amazingly arrived there at 10 a.m. on 9 May undetected by the authorities, despite having walked through Newbridge in his bizarre outfit during broad daylight. Legend has it he even stopped in the Garda station in Poulaphouca, Co. Wicklow to ask for directions, and was sent in the right direction by an obliging Garda. Görtz was received in an exhausted state after his long walk by Francis Stuart’s wife, Iseult, who surely wondered who exactly this strange German spy was, and what had brought him to Ireland.
Hermann Görtz was born on 15 May 1890 in the Hanseatic City of Lübeck in Schleswig-Holstein in northern Germany. The fourth of seven children, his father was Heinrich Görtz, a well-known solicitor and later judge, who would foster in his son an interest in the legal profession. Classically educated, the young Görtz developed a love of music, literature and art which was to stay with him for the rest of his life. He studied ancient languages, eventually moving to Gymnasium to study English and French. This was to have a profound effect on him, and he spoke fluent English for the rest of his life.
Hermann Görtz’s introduction to the military came at the age of 20, when he enlisted as a reserve soldier in the Fifth Foot Guards Regiment in 1910. Wishing to follow in his father’s footsteps, he completed a law degree in the University of Heidelberg, and also studied for brief periods in Berlin, Kiel and Edinburgh. The young Görtz was particularly taken with the beauty of the Scottish Highlands, which he visited on a study break. Passing his final legal exams, he qualified as an attorney in June 1914, and secured a job in his native Lübeck just before the outbreak of the Great War.
Görtz was steadfastly dedicated to his career in the military, having been imbued with a deep sense of patriotic duty during his training. He became a highly decorated lieutenant during the war, fighting on both the western and eastern fronts, and he was awarded the Iron Cross Second Class in 1914. However, battle wounds and a respiratory illness led to his transferral to the Army Air Service, and he eventually graduated from flight school in 1915. Görtz would stay with the Air Service until the armistice in 1918, and during this period he also allegedly became acquainted with Hermann Göring, the ace fighter pilot who would go on to lead the Luftwaffe and become number two to Hitler.
During the course of the war he married Ellen Aschenborn, the daughter of German Vice Admiral Richard Aschenborn. Ellen bore him three children, Wiebke, Rolf and Ute. After the war Görtz returned to Lübeck, his sense of duty to his country further deepened by the loss during the conflict of one of his brothers and the severe disabling of the other. Like many German men of the period Görtz prided himself on his patriotism and his devotion to the fatherland; however the economic downturn of the 1920s affected him severely.
The family law practice began to suffer, and eventually closed down, prompting Görtz to move to the United States. In 1927, he and his wife visited Ireland for the first time, touring Dublin and Wicklow. During the visit the couple observed the funeral of Minister for Justice Kevin O’Higgins, who had been assassinated by the IRA on 10 July 1927. It is perhaps here that he first gained an understanding of the intricacies of Irish politics. Görtz returned to Germany and resumed his law career, this time in the private sector. Politically conservative, he eventually joined the Nazi Party in 1929 shortly after the Wall Street Crash. Owing to a number of legal cases that resulted in him suffering financially, he found himself nearly bankrupt. He applied to join Hermann Göring’s new Luftwaffe, but was turned down for lying on his application form. In 1935 Görtz applied to be a civilian volunteer for the Abwehr, and was given a mission that would see him sent to England and ultimately spend three years in prison there.
Despite the fact that Hitler had strictly forbidden espionage in Britain, Görtz travelled there in an effort to spy on the Royal Air Force. Before he left he resigned his Nazi Party membership lest he provoke an international incident if he were caught. Görtz planned to masquerade as a writer as part of his cover story, even going as far as carrying an uncompleted manuscript with him in an attempt to sell his story. His book was to be a family history, and would include details about aeroplanes, giving him what he thought was the perfect cover story to observe RAF bases.
Görtz travelled to England with 19-year-old Marianne Emig, who had worked as the stenographer in his law practice in Lübeck, and he soon developed an extramarital relationship with her. The couple spent a few weeks in Suffolk, and they eventually moved to a rented house in Broadstairs in Kent. There they befriended a British airman named Kenneth Lewis, and through him began to collect information about the RAF Manston Air Base. Emig asked for letters on Royal Air Force stationery and photographs of the planes and aerial views. When Lewis became concerned that he might be passing on military information, she assured him that Britain and Germany would be on the same side in the next war.
Near the end of their six-week tenancy Görtz visited Germany, telegraphing his landlady, Mrs Johnson, that he would be gone for two days, and asking her to take care of his belongings in the outhouse, including his ‘bicycle combination’. Görtz had meant his overalls, but Mrs Johnson thought he was referring to his Zündapp motorcycle. Mrs Johnson checked the outhouse, did not find the motorbike, and reported to police that it had disappeared. When police investigated the apparent theft, they found sketches and documents about Manston airfield. When Görtz returned to Britain three weeks later, police arrested him at Harwich Harbour in Essex. Emig had wisely stayed behind in Germany, but Görtz was detained in Brixton Prison, and accused of offences against the Official Secrets Act.
The trial at the Old Bailey began in March 1936 and attracted much publicity in the British press. Görtz pleaded not guilty, claiming the documents were part of his research for an intended book about the enlargement of the British Air Force. Marianne Emig refused to come to Britain to testify for Görtz’ defence, fearing that she would be tried as well. In her absence Görtz was convicted and sentenced to four years in prison for espionage, serving his sentence in Maidstone Prison.
In February 1939 he was released and deported to Germany. German military intelligence eventually did employ him, however the publicity surrounding the Görtz case was to prove a major source of displeasure to Hitler. Despite his obvious lack of competency as a spy and possible psychological damage arising from his incarceration, Görtz was reintegrated into the Abwehr, and on 19 January 1940 he was selected for his mission to Ireland, which was given the codename ‘Operation Mainau’. In keeping with his tendency to exaggerate, Görtz claimed full credit for the planning involved for his mission to Ireland:
On my release I returned to the German Air Force, I suggested to my command that it might be possible to make use of the IRA in Ireland for intelligence purposes when the now inevitable war broke out. I urged that the astonishing fact of their having declared war on England should be taken seriously, and pointed to the possibility of starting a revolt in the Six Counties – or as we in Germany generally call it, Ulster. My suggestions, no doubt, had some influence.
Before departing for Ireland, Görtz made an unusual request of his superior officer. He asked for a phial of cyanide, which he reasoned would allow him to take what he thought an honourable course of action if he were caught. The request drew the ire of Abwehr Chief Admiral Canaris, who told the officer dealing with the request, ‘[W]e don’t work with poison’. When Görtz persisted in his request it was eventually agreed to by OKW Chief General Wilhelm Keitel. The request for poison alone should have alarmed the Abwehr, but they allowed Görtz to continue in his mission.
Görtz felt strongly that the IRA would be a useful ally to Germany; however, his perception of them couldn’t have been further from reality. He believed they were an underground army ready to rise when he gave the order, and in many ways he hoped that they would be in awe of him as a German officer. Instead, he was to find a disorganised rump of extremists, ideologues and opportunists. Nonetheless, his determination was evident:
I was to try to stir up a partisan war in Ulster. It would certainly signify a great success if, in consequence of this, the English were forced to send additional troops to Northern Ireland. But I was not on any account to set any action in train unless it was certain that there would be a definite initial military success. If the action did not go well, then I was to call it off, because a setback at the beginning of a rising could have very serious military and political consequences. For this reason they would send me an experienced parachute officer trained in guerrilla warfare and not a young one – an officer of the Brandenburg Regiment must have been intended.
The Abwehr saw Görtz as more of a liaison officer with the IRA than a serious subversive, and in many ways they treated him with a sort of contempt. Curiously, there is only a brief mention of Görtz’s mission in the war diaries of Maj. Gen. Alfred Jodl, the then head of the Wehrmacht Planning Staff. It seems likely that Görtz’s mission was personally sanctioned by Admiral Canaris, and was kept from the rest of the Wehrmacht. Despite the clandestine nature of the operation Görtz had a clear idea of what his mission to Ireland entailed, and he was prepared to link with the IRA once he made contact with them.
Görtz planned to direct his mission against Northern Ireland and use resources gathered in the Irish Free State to establish a secure communications link between Ireland and Nazi Germany. He also hoped to consult with the IRA on the prospect of reconciliation between the Irish state and the republican movement; to help direct the military activities of the IRA towards British military targets (specifically naval installations); and to report any incidental items of military importance. It was a mission that was to begin in the most unlikely location: Laragh Castle in Co. Wicklow.
It took a dishevelled Hermann Görtz several attempts at reasoning with Iseult Stuart at the entranceway to Laragh Castle before she believed him that he was a German officer and a friend of her husband. Francis Stuart had agreed for a prearranged signal to be used where a ‘four-leaf clover’ would be mentioned by Görtz and therefore recognisable to Iseult. Once he mentioned the clover Mrs Stuart relented, and gave Görtz a bed where he rested for a full day. Within a few days Görtz began to work his charm on her, and Iseult became quite taken by the dashing German officer. Remarkably, the relationship became romantic, and the two began an affair behind the backs of both their spouses.
Writing in her diary, Iseult spoke of her attraction to Görtz with great enthusiasm: ‘No voice has ever caressed my ears like one which I may never hear again, no voice has so enveilghed [sic] me.’ She wrote of running away with Görtz and marrying him. Indeed Görtz kept in contact with her during his time in Ireland, writing letters to her often. In one exchange he lamented, ‘I would have risked to touch you if he had known anything’. But their liaison was to cause trouble for the impressionable Iseult.
While Görtz slept, Iseult drove to Dublin accompanied by her mother, Maud Gonne. The two ladies went for coffee, and debated what they would do with their new visitor. After some time the pair decamped to Switzers department store, where Iseult bought Görtz a new suit so that he would be in civilian clothes and therefore wouldn’t attract unwarranted attention to himself. The two ladies then hurriedly left Switzers and made their way to Shankill to the home of Jim O’Donovan, to tell him of Görtz’s arrival. He got into their car and the trio made their way to Laragh to meet their guest.
In Laragh Castle, Görtz awoke to the sound of a car crunching along the gravel outside. Convinced it was the authorities, he dressed himself quickly and escaped out a nearby window. He was halfway up a nearby field when he realised it was Iseult, though she was accompanied by a man he didn’t recognise. Making his way towards them, Görtz asked Iseult who the man was. The gentleman insisted he was a friend. When Görtz looked as though he might run off again the man introduced himself as Jim O’Donovan. He explained to Görtz that he knew he was a German agent as the Abwehr had alerted the IRA that one had landed in Ireland and was most likely making his way to Co. Wicklow.
Once O’Donovan gained Görtz’s confidence the two men departed for Dublin, eventually making their way to O’Donovan’s house, Florenceville in Shankill, on the outskirts of the city. Before he left, Görtz promised Iseult he would write to her, and that he would come back to see her when time allowed him to do so. He spent two nights with the O’Donovans, where he slept in the loft in their garage. During the day he spent time in an orchard behind the house. O’Donovan told Görtz that the IRA would be happy to receive him, and that he would even get a chance to meet the Chief of Staff. Görtz was delighted that he would meet the leader of the IRA, somewhat lessening his displeasure at his less than salubrious accommodations. Little did he know that his sojourn at Florenceville would be for him the proverbial calm before the storm.
On 11 May, four young IRA men arrived at O’Donovan’s house to take Görtz with them. The men behaved aggressively, demanding Görtz hand over his money to them. O’Donovan, who at this stage had distanced himself somewhat from the IRA, intervened, insisting that the two parties reach a compromise. He suggested the money could stay with him and they could take Görtz, or vice versa. When the IRA men began threatening him, Görtz agreed to go with them so as not to cause any further difficulties for the O’Donovans. As he got into the car he had no idea he where he would be going.
Two of the IRA men, Stephen Carroll Held and Patrick McNeela, moved Görtz to 11 Winston Avenue, Rathmines, the home of IRA member J.J. O’Neill. En route, the men again demanded money from Görtz. Eventually, to avoid any more trouble he handed them over $15,500, keeping $10,000 for himself. The fact that Görtz was carrying US dollars, with no means of converting large sums of money, perhaps illustrated how ill-equipped he was for his mission. While staying with the O’Neills Görtz acquainted himself with Mrs O Neill, who brought him up to speed with the political situation in Ireland.
He was also introduced to the Acting IRA Chief of Staff, Stephen Hayes, and a further meeting was set up between the two at Hayes’s house at Auburn Villas in Donnybrook. Görtz also sent a postcard to Germany, alerting his family to his safe arrival in Ireland; this was lost by the postal service before it could be examined by G2. Dan Bryan had been notified of two suspicious-looking postcards that had come through a Dublin sorting office, which aroused his suspicion that a parachutist had entered Ireland illegally.
During his meetings with Hayes, Görtz was informed of the strength of the IRA, which he was told consisted of 5,000 sworn-in members, 1,500 of whom were based in Northern Ireland. Hayes assured Görtz that he could call upon 10,000 extra volunteers in the north and 15,000 in the South should an armed revolt occur in Northern Ireland. Görtz didn’t know that the numbers were highly exaggerated, but he was unimpressed by Hayes, describing him as ‘an upright patriot, whose roots are in the people, quiet, almost passive. Not outstanding as a natural leader.’ He also struggled to understand his Wexford accent, something which would cause difficulty for Görtz at a later stage during his time in Ireland.
One issue had been troubling Görtz ever since his arrival in Ireland, and when given the opportunity to address it he did so, asking Hayes to retrieve his parachute, radio and uniform from the places he had hidden them near Ballivor. Hayes dispatched an IRA team to retrieve the items. Masquerading as men from the Board of Works, the IRA men drew much attention from local farmers, who noticed them searching the nearby fields at night. The IRA recovered one of Görtz’ parachutes, but the other was eventually found by Gardaí, along with Görtz’s uniform, in Carbury, Co. Kildare. It was then passed on to G2 and stored behind a shed in Collins Barracks. Noticing the Luftwaffe badges, they sensed that their worst fears were true, that a German agent had indeed entered Ireland via parachute. The IRA were unable to find the radio, and Görtz foolishly suggested they put up posters offering a £10 reward for the safe return of it; however this plan was wisely never put into action.
During his meeting with Hayes, Görtz attempted to get a general consensus about the future of the IRA and the attitude of the Irish people to Germany. Hayes assured Görtz that only a British invasion of the Irish Free State would galvanise popular support for a German intervention. Görtz stressed that the Germans didn’t wish to invade, but to instead offer financial and logistical support. Hayes asked for automatic weapons for the IRA, much to Görtz’s dismay. He informed Hayes that should such weapons arrive they could under no circumstances be used in the Irish Free State. Showing his ignorance of Irish politics, Görtz then suggested that the IRA could be incorporated into the Irish Army, pointing out that the Sturmabteilung had been assimilated into the Wehrmacht in Germany. The idea was of course laughed off by the IRA Chief of Staff. In a final meeting Hayes introduced Görtz to a man named Liam Gaynor, the author of the proposed Nazi/IRA invasion of Northern Ireland, codenamed ‘Plan Kathleen’.
Liam Gaynor lived at 117 Home Farm Road in Drumcondra, Dublin. Originally a native of Belfast, he worked as a civil servant in Dáil Éireann. At 60 years of age Gaynor was a loquacious character, who apart from his keenness in subversive activities also had a burgeoning interest in debating, and was an active member of St Vincent de Paul, Catholic Action, Catholic Sociology and the Irish Industrial Development Group. Gaynor first became acquainted to the IRA through Stephen Carroll Held, one of the men who had picked up Görtz from Jim O’Donovan’s house.
Gaynor first met Held at a lecture they had both attended, concerned with industrial development in Dublin. On the final day of lectures Held took Gaynor for a drive in his car to Bodenstown, Co. Kildare, where the two men discussed Wolfe Tone and the various facets of Irish republicanism. During the conversation Held made derogatory remarks about Tone being Protestant, to which Gaynor expressed his unhappiness at such a bigoted view of religion. At the outbreak of the war the men met again. Held was accompanied this time by members of the IRA, and the group discussed the impact the border would have on the war.
At the conclusion of the meeting Gaynor agreed to compile an invasion plan for Northern Ireland that would involve help, if it could be acquired, from Nazi Germany, be it in terms of financial aid or troops. The plan would be supervised and signed off on by Held and the IRA. When Gaynor delivered the final plan Görtz was dismayed. Plan Kathleen consisted of a map, on which was the suggestion of a German invasion by way of an amphibious assault in the vicinity of Derry. The aim of the plan was the conquest of Northern Ireland via a simultaneous IRA insurgency and use of German forces.
The IRA would be concentrated in Co. Leitrim, on the border facing lower and upper Lough Erne, to await the arrival of German forces in Northern Ireland. IRA units in Ballyshannon, Co. Donegal and Dundalk in Co. Louth would also assist in the operation. The general line of thinking of Gaynor’s plan was that the British would be forced to intervene at Carlingford Lough, thereby breaking neutrality and creating the conditions for a German intervention. However, the IRA plan gave no thought to how German troops were to be brought to Derry, how control of the sea approaches was to be obtained or where and how the coast of Northern Ireland was fortified.
Görtz described the plan at the time as ‘completely useless’. He went further, saying, ‘It nearly broke my heart, since it came from the IRA Chief of Staff’. Görtz was slowly learning that his faith in the IRA was deeply misplaced. Plan Kathleen envisaged a landing in Derry in the manner of the German assault on Denmark and Norway, calling for the deployment of 50,000 German troops. The bait for the Germans was supposed to be the chance to neutralise the RAF’s use of Lough Erne as a tactical base against the U-boat fleet. Gaynor believed that it would turn public opinion in the 26 counties against the British, and that the general population would rise up against the ‘occupying forces’. The practicalities of successfully carrying out the plan, however, were slim.
In reality the plan was poorly constructed, and not treated with any seriousness by the Abwehr or German Foreign Ministry. Görtz was hugely underwhelmed by the IRA, describing them in unflattering terms: ‘I know that thousands are willing to die for Ireland, but very few dare to think bold’. It is not known whether any serious planning was done for Plan Kathleen, although the operation appears to have been widened in scope by Görtz, who was determined to try and make it work.
MI5 and G2 feared that as part of the plan Görtz and the IRA would set up a mobile transmitting station in Ireland which would be used to communicate with another transmitting station to be set up in Belfast. This station would communicate troop movements and weather reports to Görtz, who would then communicate this crucial information back to Central Command in Berlin. Görtz also hoped to install an automatic weather transmitter that could communicate directly with Germany. Despite the ramshackle nature of his arrival into Ireland, Herr Görtz still posed a serious threat.
Hermann Görtz stayed with the O’Neills until 19 May. Eventually he was brought to Stephen Carroll Held’s house at 245 Templeogue Road on the south side of Dublin. As Görtz approached the house he became apprehensive. The name on the property was familiar. It read ‘Konstanz’, and it reminded him of the German Lake Constance on the Rhine at the northern foot of the Alps. The Templeogue house was colloquially known as the ‘Nazi House’, as it was erroneously believed that the house was in the shape of a swastika when looked at from above.
Local lore also had it that Hitler had selected the property as a safe house should he have to escape Berlin. A swastika was allegedly painted on the roof so that it could be identified from the air, though this story has never been proven one way or another. The house did, however, have a large swastika motif painted in its entrance hall. As he passed through the gates Görtz questioned the safety of his lodgings, given the fact that it only had one entrance and could be easily sealed off by the authorities should they get wind of his location. However his fears were assuaged and his anxiety temporarily subsided as he felt he now recognised one of the men driving the car, the gentleman with the unusual surname whom he had first met in Jim O’Donovan’s house.
Stephen Carroll Held was the adoptive son of a German national, Michael Held, who in 1890 had travelled to Ireland where he founded a successful sheet metal business. Held senior met and married Stephen’s mother and adopted him, giving him his own surname. As a German citizen, Stephen Held had been interned for the duration of World War I. He eventually emigrated to America, where he married and settled down. He returned to Ireland to work for his adoptive father in the 1930s. Despite his background he never learned to speak German.
He eventually joined the IRA and because of his German background was selected to travel to Hamburg as a representative of the IRA. There he met with the Abwehr who were sceptical of his credentials and initially believed that he was a British plant. In an attempt to show the Abwehr his bona fides, Held produced ‘an invasion plan for Ireland’ which could be of use to the Germans. The plan would become known to the Germans as the ‘Artus Plan’ and to the IRA as ‘Plan Kathleen’. After describing the plan to the Abwehr, Held asked for a German officer to be sent by the German High Command to help in its coordination.
Unbeknownst to Held, Görtz had been present at the meeting, and observed him briefly from a distance. Held arranged the second meeting with Görtz at Konstanz, where the men could discuss the use of a transmitter to allow Görtz to communicate with his superiors; IRA Chief Stephen Hayes was also present at the meeting. Görtz told Hayes that a communication between Ulster and Germany was essential, and that a transmitter should be located in an area where ‘one intended to stage operations’.
Görtz felt that a transmitter located a considerable distance away was a waste of time. Hayes assured him he would get one, and a transmitter was delivered to the house on the second day of his stay there. However the transmitter was soon to prove unfit for purpose. It was large and cumbersome, and was not powerful enough to transmit the required distance to Germany. Also, owning such a transmitter was a criminal offence in Ireland during the war – a point lost on Görtz, who thought Ireland was similar to other neutral countries such as the USA and Sweden, where transmitting was legal. Görtz noted that even the most trustworthy citizens in Germany were not permitted to own wireless sets, and he eventually put the confusion about the set down to his inability to understand Hayes’s ‘thick accent’.
Far from a secure location to plan covert operations, the house was easily accessible from the Templeogue Road. Held lived there with his mistress, Elizabeth Hall, their son and his mother, who soon began to question the identity of the German visitor. Görtz was right to be apprehensive about his safety, as MI5 had been covertly watching the house from a nearby road, and had taken photographs of Held, as well as his mistress and child.
G2 were also monitoring the house, and keeping tabs on those who visited it. Dan Bryan had a wiretap placed on Held’s phone, and G2 had approached the maid working in the house in order to get more information about who was staying there. The net was closing in on Held and Görtz but, oblivious to this, another meeting was scheduled between them for the evening of 22 May. Görtz spent the morning preparing notes for the rendezvous when he suddenly received a message telling him the meeting was cancelled.
To kill some time, Held and Görtz decided to go for a short walk, and while they were gone a Garda car suddenly stopped outside the front of the house. Gardaí and G2 burst into the house and began to search it from top to bottom. They noticed the top room was locked and the occupants were nowhere to be found. The officers decided to bide their time and wait for whomever lived there to return home. As they returned from their walk Held and Görtz noticed the authorities outside the house. Görtz hid behind a shrub, where he watched the raid before eventually fleeing; he had known it was the Gardaí, as their screeching brakes reminded him of the SS.
Held, on the other hand, walked straight into the house, deciding he would rather face the authorities head on. As he walked in the front door he was immediately taken into custody and questioned by detectives about the locked room. Held told them a guest had been staying, and that they had locked the room and left. Gardaí felt that Held was not telling the truth, and broke the door down. To their amazement they found a typewriter with several documents lying beside it. The documents contained files and maps with military details about Irish harbours, airfields, bridges, roads and landing grounds. They also had information about the distribution of the Irish Defence Forces around Ireland, as well coded wireless traffic and a breakdown of the enciphering system used to code illicit messages to be communicated to Germany at an appropriate time.
As detectives continued searching the house they discovered a parachute and a wireless transmitter and receiver, as well as nearly $20,000, all of which were stored in a locked safe. In one of the bedrooms they found Görtz’s World War I medals, along with a Luftwaffe badge and a black tie with the word ‘Berlin’ printed on it. Some notes were also discovered that had been written by Görtz in preparation for his meeting with Stephen Hayes. As they sifted through the papers the detectives were shocked to discover that Ventry Harbour in Co. Kerry was being touted as a possible location for a weapons dump. The note read: ‘Ventry Harbour as operations base, Fishing Boat Motor – where to get – provisions, crew, harbour.’
As G2 examined the notes, which contained references to ‘Leg’ (legation) and L.H. (Laragh House), Dan Bryan became convinced that there was some sort of connection between the Stuarts in Laragh, Dr Hempel, the German Legation and the mysterious parachutist. When the notes were further examined it became clear that Görtz planned to send them to the OKW in Berlin, as he had written down an outline of what he had been up to in Ireland since his arrival. Detectives asked Held about the various items they had discovered. Fearing that the IRA’s plot with the Germans would be discovered, Held concocted a story that the items belonged to a Heinrich Brandy, whom he maintained had arrived at the house the previous night begging for lodgings.
According to Held, the fictional Mr Brandy was a relative of a Dublin businessman, and he had let the room out to him for £2 and 10 shillings per week. Held told detectives that Mr Brandy had asked him out for a drink but that he had declined, as he had work to do in his metal-engraving workshop. He claimed that he and Brandy then separated, that he hadn’t seen him since and he had no idea why he was out and had his room locked. Held’s explanation failed to impress G2, and he was subsequently arrested and brought before the Special Criminal Court in Beggars Bush Barracks on May 24.
Held was charged with breaches of Articles 26 and 28 of the Emergency Powers Order, and of offences against the Emergency Powers Act. He was accused of being in possession of a code and had given shelter to an as yet unidentified person who might be of immediate danger to the state. On 8 June, Held was further charged with having the keys of the safe in the house, as well as the keys to ‘Mr Brandy’s’ room. Held had forgotten to take them off his key ring when he returned home with Görtz. The most incriminating item, however, were the plans for an IRA rising against the Irish government, and these ensured that Held would not be a free man for much longer.
Held was tried and sentenced to five years’ imprisonment on 26 June 1940, and as a result of his arrest G2 organised a round-up of suspected IRA members and other politically suspect individuals. By 7 June over 400 suspected IRA members had been arrested and put into internment camps after being subjected to interrogation. Many of those arrested were not released until after the end of the war.
When news of the raid reached de Valera he became very concerned, and issued an appeal to Irishmen to join the Army and defend their country from all attackers, both foreign and domestic. Dan Bryan contacted the Department of External Affairs and urged them to contact Britain to make them aware of the Held raid and subsequent arrests and trials. In Washington the German ambassador reported back to Berlin that the Held raid had been reported on in a number of newspapers.
The whole fiasco caused huge difficulty to the German Legation, and Dr Hempel decided that the best course of action was to pretend publicly that he knew nothing of Görtz or the raid. However, secretly Hempel sent a coded telegram to Berlin saying that he had warned them of the dangers of using Held as an agent. The German High Command reasoned that a policy of not getting involved was the best approach, so as not to cause a diplomatic incident. As the furore over the raid continued, Hermann Görtz was making his way back by foot to what he thought was the safety of Laragh Castle and Iseult Stuart. Little did he know that the G2 were in hot pursuit.
Görtz’s trek back to Laragh was long and arduous. Having no supplies, he was forced to survive on a diet of wild berries. Meanwhile Gardaí had identified Iseult Stuart as the purchaser of the clothes from Switzers which were found in Held’s house. G2 had gone to the department store and questioned staff, who remembered Mrs Stuart and thought it was curious that she was buying a suit when her husband was out of the country in Germany.
Gardaí arrived at Laragh Castle and arrested Iseult Stuart, charging her under Section 5 of the Emergency Powers Act of 1939. She was accused of interfering with apprehension of a person who had committed an offence, as well as refusing to give all information in her possession relating to the commission by another person of a scheduled offence. Iseult Stuart was put on trial on 2 July 1940, and while there was more than enough evidence to convict her she was strangely acquitted on all charges. Newspapers speculated that this was because of the status of her mother, Maud Gonne, but the real reason was much more ingenious. Bryan and G2 felt that if she were let go then it would be possible to put surveillance on her and see if the ‘fugitive parachutist’ would contact her.
When he eventually reached Laragh after the 24-mile hike Görtz hid in the bushes near the castle, and was brought food by the Stuart children. Eventually he was met by a strange woman, who informed him that Iseult Stuart had been arrested and was in custody. The woman was Helena Moloney, secretary of the Women Workers’ Union and a lifelong socialist with republican sympathies who had fought in the Easter Rising. She brought Görtz to Jim O’Donovan’s house, where the two of them stayed overnight before moving to Maeve Kavanagh McDowell’s house at 57 Larkfield Grove, Harold’s Cross. From there Görtz stayed in a number of houses, moving between them usually under cover of darkness.
In June 1940 he stayed in Mary Coffey’s house in 1 Charlemont Avenue, Dún Laoghaire, where he was known as Mr Henry Robinson, pretending to be a commercial traveller. He claimed that he was visiting customers when asked to explain his absences; in reality he was staying in a second safe house, St Alban’s in Nerano Road, Dalkey, which had been rented by Moloney and her friend Maura O’Brien. For a short period a radio transmitter was installed at the house for Görtz’s personal use. During his stay here Maisie O’Mahony acted as his chauffeur, driving him between Dún Laoghaire and Dalkey at night. An employee of the Dublin Hospital Bed Bureau, she was arrested on 20 October 1941 and later released from detention on 24 January 1942, after which her employment with the bureau was terminated. When Mary Coffey was later questioned by G2 she maintained that she was unaware of Görtz’s true identity, despite evidence to the contrary.
During his stay in Dalkey Görtz began to ingratiate himself with prominent members of Dublin society. Often many of these visited him, and one visitor to Görtz’s safe house in Nerano Road was Maj. Gen. Hugo MacNeill, commander of the 2nd Division of the Irish Army, who enquired of Görtz if Germany would come to Ireland’s assistance if the British forces in Northern Ireland invaded the country. MacNeill was treading on very dangerous ground and risked being court-martialled had the government become aware of his dealings with the German spy. The British believed that MacNeill, as the leader of the anti-British faction of the Irish Army, was prepared to collaborate with Gen. Eoin O’Duffy in the formation of a new fascist organisation in Ireland, and that it was probable that Görtz convinced them he could be of assistance.
Also while in Dalkey Görtz met a large circle of people including politicians and Dr Brennan, City Coroner for Dublin, who treated him for the recurring problem of a duodenal ulcer that had been troubling him for some time. When Hempel, the German Minister to Ireland, became aware of what was going on, he indicated to his superiors in Berlin that de Valera would have nothing to do with what Maj. Gen. MacNeill was proposing. Hempel was reluctant to meet with Görtz in case the Irish authorities became aware of any contacts or meetings between them. He was also afraid that Görtz was competing with him for control of German policy in Ireland, but at the same time realised that the Irish feared a British invasion, and that the Irish Army needed support.
Görtz made the first move to rectify the situation by proposing to meet Hempel, but the minister was reluctant to take the risk of being caught in the company of the parachutist, especially given the fact that he himself was under surveillance by G2. Hempel devised a novel way for Görtz to meet him safely – he arranged a party for members of the German community in Dublin as cover at his personal residence, Gortleitragh, in Monkstown, Co. Dublin. Görtz attended the party in the guise of a guest, and went unnoticed by the G2 men on duty outside.
On arrival at the front door he uttered the prearranged phrase ‘Where is the WC?’ to the maid who opened the door, in accordance with prior instructions made with Hempel. She ushered Görtz into a study, and informed Hempel of his arrival. Görtz remained out of sight from everyone while at intervals during this party Hempel excused himself from his guests and held brief conversations with him. During their exchanges Görtz indicated to Hempel that he wished to return to France as soon as possible to make his report on his activities in Ireland. He felt that if he could organise passage by sea he could reach the safety of SS headquarters at Brest harbour in the French département of Brittany.
Görtz informed Hempel that he intended to leave as soon as possible, and that if he could leave on a solo trip due to weather he was happy to be dropped off on Inishduff, an uninhabited island off the coast of Donegal, where he would wait for transport to France. He told Hempel that he hoped to return to Ireland someday to help persuade the IRA to not act so rashly and to behave in a more professional manner. This news delighted Hempel, as he thought that Görtz’s activities threatened his mission to Ireland, and that Görtz’s contacts and intrigues with Maj. Gen. MacNeill posed a huge threat to Irish neutrality.
Hempel was also concerned that the Allies might use the presence and activities of Görtz in Ireland as a German intelligence gatherer to force de Valera to abandon his stance of neutrality and enter the war on the Allied side. It also appears that on several occasions the German embassy was used to relay reports by Görtz to Germany. Hempel suddenly found himself in a difficult situation – his mission was to keep Ireland from joining the Allies and to prevent the country giving direct assistance to them, as well as to ensure that the country remained neutral and if at all possible to try and get Ireland to align itself with Germany, however unlikely this might be. With Görtz now in the picture he was left walking a diplomatic tightrope.
While he was on the run Görtz also grew increasingly frustrated with Acting IRA Chief of Staff Stephen Hayes, who he felt had caused him to make tactical decisions that scuppered his mission. He also accused Hayes of having betrayed him to the Gardaí in the Held raid, despite the fact there was no evidence to support his claim. Meanwhile Görtz grew increasingly anxious that he had no means to contact Germany. Helena Moloney and others sourced radios in Donegal to help Görtz, but they were of an amateur nature, and proved to be of no use in his attempts to communicate with the Nazi High Command.
Görtz continued to test various transmitters at several sites around Dublin, but to no avail. He then set about training two part-time Morse operators to aid him. When the two men proved to be incompetent he was provided with an IRA member who turned out to be very adept at the use of radio. However his experimentations with the radio sets had dwindled his resources, and as a result Görtz found himself under severe financial strain.
These events further deepened his anger with the IRA, and strengthened his determination to get back to Germany as soon as possible. Despite his feeling of abandonment, the Abwehr were planning on alleviating Görtz’s financial situation. Admiral Canaris sent two Spanish fascists to London with the address of an IRA safe house and money for Görtz. Despite these efforts Görtz never received the money, so the Abwehr tried to send money to him via different means.
The Abwehr chose to utilise a most secret agent, an Irish woman named Mary Mains who lived in Madrid under the pretence that she worked as a governess to elderly ladies. In reality she was an agent for the Abwehr, with links to the Irish Minister in Spain, Leopold Kerney. Kerney had been keeping an eye on Mains’s whereabouts due to requests from her family through the Department of External Affairs. In November 1940, Kerney asked Dublin that Mains be allowed to enter Ireland aboard a ship that had been transporting displaced Japanese nationals.
She arrived in Galway the same month, secretly carrying $10,000 and a new supply of ‘G-Tinten’ invisible ink for Görtz. She also supplied Görtz with a new keyword for radio transmissions. With her mission complete she returned unhindered to Spain. Kerney’s request for preferential treatment for Mains caused considerable levels of suspicion among G2, who at a later date sent Dr Richard Hayes to Spain to investigate the links between Kerney, Mains and the Abwehr. Hayes travelled to Spain, along with G2 agent and Professor of Spanish at University College Cork Joe Healy, under the guise of being on a research project for the National Library of Ireland, examining manuscripts at the archive in Simancas in central Spain. Dan Bryan urged that action be taken against Kerney, though this never came to pass; however customs officials were circulated information on Mains lest she attempt to return to Ireland.
The Abwehr assumed that Görtz was now able to resume his mission, and had no need to return to Germany; however he grew increasingly anxious at his situation in Ireland, something which he confided to his many female friends. In an attempt to ingratiate himself with Dublin society, Görtz contacted various politicians after the abandonment of his escape attempt. He asked that his friends no longer keep his identity a secret, and began a series of meetings with various interested parties he felt respected him as a German officer. Members of the Dáil, such as TD Criostoir O’Byrne, Minister for Agriculture Dr Jim Ryan, Minister for Posts and Telegraphs P.J. Ryan and Minister for Coordination of Defensive Measures Frank Aiken, are reputed to have visited Görtz during this period.
Despite his dealings with politicians and well-known faces in Irish society, Hermann Görtz’s mission to date in Ireland was an abject failure. His liaisons with the IRA had proved fruitless, and he was growing increasingly disillusioned. His relationship with the IRA was strained, given the arrests that had depleted their numbers following the Held raid, with many of their best men now languishing in jail. Some members of the organisation openly despised Görtz as a result of this, and blamed him for attracting unwarranted attention to their ranks and for not acting on promises he made to supply them with much-needed arms for the campaign against England.
Despite the strained relationship, contact between Görtz and Stephen Hayes was eventually re-established. Görtz’s chauffeur, Maisie O’Mahony, was to attract considerable attention to his case. O’Mahoney was the daughter of Fianna Fáil TD Seán O’Mahony, and her romantic liaisons with Görtz were to cause quite a stir. Hayes had stayed with O’Mahony on several occasions, and her home was used as an IRA safe house at various stages. As a preventative measure G2 began to monitor O’Mahony. She was eventually arrested in October 1941, having been identified as a security risk for aiding a German agent in Ireland.
By 1941, Görtz’s fortunes had changed entirely. The Abwehr came to the realisation that the IRA would be of no use to them, and subsequently decided to leave him to his own devices. Görtz decided to focus on the ill-conceived idea that he could foster reconciliation between the Irish government and the IRA. He believed such a course of action would prove fruitful if it led to a military intervention in Northern Ireland. Görtz wrote to Jim O’Donovan asking him to contact someone in the Irish government to broach the idea, but this came to nothing. Görtz may also have been trying to contact German Legation Counsellor Henning Thomson or Taoiseach Éamon de Valera directly. When these endeavours proved futile, Görtz started to feel that his luck was running out, and wished to return to Germany at the nearest opportunity:
All this time, too, I was anxious to return to Germany. I had seen very early that the main purposes of my mission could not succeed and that the German Supreme Command could not hope for anything in the shape of serious military action by the IRA. Clearly my instructions needed to be rewritten if any considerable military diversion was to be created by the Six Counties. All my original plans for landing grounds, all the money I had hoped to spend quietly, but effectively, on building up equipment for German troops when they should come; all this was useless when I could not find sufficient solid support among the one body in Ireland out to fight Britain. Events have developed in such a way that I have decided to go home.
In February 1941 Görtz made a another attempt to escape, this time to France by boat from Fenit, Co. Kerry. The crew were arrested by the authorities but Görtz evaded arrest with the assistance of a sympathetic member of An Garda Síochána, who was later disciplined and sentenced to five years’ imprisonment. Görtz returned to Dublin and stayed with sisters Mary and Bridie Farrell in 47 Spencer Villas in Glenageary; with their assistance and that of Maisie O’Mahony he purchased a boat which he later described as a canoe with an outboard motor.
In July, Helena Moloney rented a hut in Brittas Bay, Co. Wicklow, where Görtz spent August preparing for his departure. She also checked out a number of books from Rathmines Public Library in order to aid her German comrade. These included Navigation and Astronomy, Amateurs Afloat and Practical Navigation for Yachtsmen. However despite her good intentions, Moloney only attracted further attention to Görtz. When she failed to return the books the head librarian became suspicious. An overdue book notice was mailed to her and postal censors immediately contacted G2, who put Moloney under surveillance.
Undeterred by the unfortunate turn of events, Görtz made his first attempt to escape on the boat on 13 August, but his motor failed and he had to return to Brittas Bay by sail. Bad weather during the remainder of the month prevented any further attempts. A second attempt was made on 2 September, and he made it as far as Tuskar Rock lighthouse before his motor flooded and his boat began to take in water; again he managed to make it back to Brittas Bay. It was also planned to try and get him on board a Japanese ship scheduled to call at Dublin to collect Japanese nationals stranded in Ireland due to the outbreak of war, but these plans also fell through. In late autumn 1941, the Garda Síochána, working with G2, rounded up nearly all of those who were assisting Görtz, including Jim O’Donovan, having obtained information on the location of most of the safe houses used by the IRA from files and documents seized in the raid on Stephen Carroll Held’s home.
In September 1941, eight Garda cars under the command of Superintendent W.P. Quinn, who headed the Bray Garda District which Shankill was part of, and Sgt Michael Wymes arrived at Florenceville and arrested Jim O’Donovan, who refused to divulge anything about all the activities that had taken place. The house was raided from top to bottom, but nothing incriminating was found. O’Donovan was subsequently taken away by the Garda Síochána and ultimately interned in the Curragh Camp, where he was held until his release in 1944.
When he got out of prison he returned to his job with the Electricity Supply Board, his employer before internment. Curiously, the ESB took no notice of his activities, which had no major impact on his subsequent career. Despite this, however, his relationship with his family never recovered, and for many years afterwards they held much antipathy towards him for getting involved with Görtz and the IRA.
Görtz knew that the Irish authorities were closing in on him, and that it was vital for him to reach France to report his belief that the Irish Defence Forces would support Germany if the British attempted to seize Irish ports. He knew the ports were of huge strategic importance in the Battle of the Atlantic; he also saw it as a chance for him to prove his worth to his superiors. Unbeknownst to Görtz and the Abwehr, his arrival into Ireland had caused a stir, particularly in Dublin, where new Nazi sympathisers had begun to fill the void left by Adolf Mahr and the Dublin branch of the Nazi Party. Pro-Nazi gatherings were held in Wynn’s Hotel off O’Connell Street, and were attended by several well-known personalities in Irish life. Many of the figures spoke of their admiration for Hitler and their hope that Germany would win the war. Heartened by this, Görtz decided to take refuge in Dublin, feeling that he would have a better chance at anonymity in a large city than in the countryside.
The Abwehr had been informed by Hempel that Görtz had tried to escape from Ireland unsuccessfully, and that most of his IRA companions had been arrested. He also contacted Germany from the legation to say that he had no direct dealings with Görtz, and did not wish to act as a middle man for him and the Abwehr. Also, because he had no working transmitter, the Abwehr felt they had no reasonable means to facilitate Görtz’s escape from Ireland. This was compounded by the fact that coordination for an airdrop through the legation was now impossible. Görtz now found himself alone and cut off from both the Abwehr and the IRA.
With Görtz still on the run, matters were about to take another turn for the worse. G2 had become aware of rumours of U-boats being spotted in the vicinity of Co. Kerry. It was feared that the Abwehr were planning on sending more agents to Ireland. The threat was now severe, and Dan Bryan feared that the British would grow increasingly impatient with Irish attempts to rectify the situation. He travelled to London to brief MI5 in relation to the transmitter and Görtz, assuring them that he would be apprehended quickly and that the matter would be brought under control soon.
In Berlin the German High Command had begun compiling official invasion plans for Ireland, to be used in the event of a victory in the Battle of Britain. With London, Belfast and Coventry under heavy bombardment by the Luftwaffe, Bryan felt that it was time to mobilise all the weapons at his disposal. Görtz had to be apprehended, and any communications that he had been making had to be deciphered. It was undoubtedly a job for Dr Hayes, but little did Bryan know that before they found Görtz and broke his code, G2 would have to decipher coded messages being used by other German agents who had been operating in Ireland, right under the noses of the authorities.
The Abwehr were determined to make a breakthrough in Ireland, and decided to send more agents in order to link with the IRA and report back crucial weather and security information. Bryan and others in G2 knew the danger posed by this, to neutrality as well as the wider war effort. While de Valera and others worried about keeping neutrality intact, Bryan, Hayes and others in G2 saw the bigger picture. Germany was winning the war, and with the fall of France Britain would soon stand alone in the battle against Nazi Germany.
Day by day other neutral countries were falling under Hitler’s control, and G2 was being inundated with security alerts. The war, which had seemed so distant and unreal to the Irish population, was rapidly becoming a clear and present danger. G2 was the last line of defence to protect the country; if they didn’t act to stop the threat, nobody else would.