The would-be biographer of Canaris could hardly choose a more difficult subject. Notwithstanding several excellent biographies on him, notably by André Brissaud and Heinz Hoehne, the mystery of the German admiral who somehow helped Britain win the war remains, even more than fifty years after his death. Despite the thousands of words devoted to the admiral after the war, the riddle of his links with Britain continue to cast shadows over almost every chapter of the war’s history. It is therefore with some trepidation that I have attempted to shine my torch into the already much visited and, by now, quite Stygian cellars of the Abwehr.
The hazards of working with material related to secret operations are immense. Long-standing friendships with this or that member of a particular service are only a disadvantage, as events still covered by the Official Secrets Act and therefore subject to archival embargo obviously cannot be discussed. The consistency with which the most modest and oblique of enquiries have been met with a wall of dignified and amicable silence in certain quarters, usually quite voluble on other topics, is an impressive testament to the oaths of loyalty that servants of the Crown, distinguished and undistinguished, embrace. If there is one great lesson to be learnt by those who research the more obscure dealings of the British secret services during the war, it is that the officers of those services cannot, on the whole, be persuaded to break their vows. For those who believe that a country without an efficient and loyal intelligence force is automatically doomed, this is reassuring.
