Post by Dave Homewood on Mar 28, 2005 19:31:18 GMT 12
28 September 1942, from the Waikato Independent
"BEWARE SPIES"
Story of Enemy Agents
It Happened at Matata
The peaceful routine of sleepy little Matata (East Coast, North Island) by the lagoon, was rudely disturbed recently when a rumour went round that this little seaside gem had been especially selected for an operational base by a band of desperate fifth columnists. For the best part of the day those in the "know" met furtively in doorways and discussed their secret knowledge, states the Bay of Plenty Beacon.
The "low down" briefly was as follows:- A well known farmer on the Rangitiki Plains noticed on a recent evening that a definite number of flashes were coing from the hills at the back of Matata township, and were obstensively pointing seawards. When his suspicions were confirmed by an ex-H.G. officer now on the permanent staff, things began to move. Telephones buzzed, and the most trusted Home Guardsmen were drawn in secret conclaveand a plan of action agreed upon.
The flashes were seen to be coming in a regular dot-dash rotation, but the anxious observers were unable to piece together any definite message. Naturally it was thought that a code was being utilised, and that deciphering would be a matter for the secret service, once the culprits were captured. A rough inspection was made, but without result.
Shock For Investigators
On the following day the flashes again continued without intermission. Two or three of the foremost enthusiasts (including the original observer) marked the spot, and actually beat over every inch of the hillock upon which the signals were supposed to have been operating. All to no avail - but what a shock was in store for the investigators when the self-same settler's wife announced that the flashes had continued throughout the whole of the time of their absence. Coming outside she pointed an accusing finger to the glints of light going on even more merrily than before.
This was beyond a joke. A poerful telescope was requisitioned, and it was noticed that every other flash showed a reddish light. The plot thickened. The telescope was taken nearer and neaer, and disclosed a power line leading through the property. The observers went nearer, too, and followed the line to the offending point once again.
Glancing up the disgusted trio niticed a bit of tin, red one side and bright silver on the other suspended from the line by a piece of string. The wind blew it happily from side to side, and the mystery was solved.
Once more we have the ubiquitous "small boy" to blame for the latest case of "much ado about nothing".
"BEWARE SPIES"
Story of Enemy Agents
It Happened at Matata
The peaceful routine of sleepy little Matata (East Coast, North Island) by the lagoon, was rudely disturbed recently when a rumour went round that this little seaside gem had been especially selected for an operational base by a band of desperate fifth columnists. For the best part of the day those in the "know" met furtively in doorways and discussed their secret knowledge, states the Bay of Plenty Beacon.
The "low down" briefly was as follows:- A well known farmer on the Rangitiki Plains noticed on a recent evening that a definite number of flashes were coing from the hills at the back of Matata township, and were obstensively pointing seawards. When his suspicions were confirmed by an ex-H.G. officer now on the permanent staff, things began to move. Telephones buzzed, and the most trusted Home Guardsmen were drawn in secret conclaveand a plan of action agreed upon.
The flashes were seen to be coming in a regular dot-dash rotation, but the anxious observers were unable to piece together any definite message. Naturally it was thought that a code was being utilised, and that deciphering would be a matter for the secret service, once the culprits were captured. A rough inspection was made, but without result.
Shock For Investigators
On the following day the flashes again continued without intermission. Two or three of the foremost enthusiasts (including the original observer) marked the spot, and actually beat over every inch of the hillock upon which the signals were supposed to have been operating. All to no avail - but what a shock was in store for the investigators when the self-same settler's wife announced that the flashes had continued throughout the whole of the time of their absence. Coming outside she pointed an accusing finger to the glints of light going on even more merrily than before.
This was beyond a joke. A poerful telescope was requisitioned, and it was noticed that every other flash showed a reddish light. The plot thickened. The telescope was taken nearer and neaer, and disclosed a power line leading through the property. The observers went nearer, too, and followed the line to the offending point once again.
Glancing up the disgusted trio niticed a bit of tin, red one side and bright silver on the other suspended from the line by a piece of string. The wind blew it happily from side to side, and the mystery was solved.
Once more we have the ubiquitous "small boy" to blame for the latest case of "much ado about nothing".
