Protecting the Lines: Telephone Operators and Security during World War I

In March 1918, Catherine Schmid was arrested for violating the U.S. espionage act. In her possession was a trunk supposedly containing plans and photographs of various U.S. defenses, which, according to the El Paso Herald, she planned to share with the enemy. Additionally, Schmid allegedly applied to be a telephone operator on the American lines in France to spy for the Germans.[1]

As this story illustrates, the U.S. telephone system in France was a potential source of information for spies during World War I. The telephone operators, for example, connected calls between high ranking officers and served as translators during calls between French and American military units. In this role, they had access to unprecedented amounts of information that would be of great value to the enemy. If someone like Schmid infiltrated the system, the Germans could gain intelligence that might cost many American lives and perhaps contribute to a German victory.

Using personnel and military records and other sources, I will use the A.E.F. operators (who came to be known as “the Hello Girls”) as a case study to examine how the U.S. Army attempted to protect vulnerable assets from German spies during World War I. While a discriminatory system was developed, the procedures appear to have been effective in preventing women like Schmid from compromising the American effort.

I want to begin by looking at Schmid again. Catherine Schmid was a Swiss citizen who came to the United States about 1915. For her first 2.5 years in the U.S., she was a governess in Massachusetts.[2] In 1917, she moved to Denver, where she carried out some unspecified activities that aroused the suspicion of local authorities.[3] By March 1918, she was in El Paso, Texas. During a visit to a local military base, she asked too many questions about U.S. military strength and defenses. Making matters worse was a remark she made to soldier Timothy O’Sullivan about how Bavarian soldiers were good Catholics.[4] Schmid was arrested on March 15^th on charges of espionage.

Meanwhile, in November 1917, while Schmid was in Denver, General John J. Pershing issued a call for professional, female telephone operators, who spoke French and English fluently, to serve with the American Expeditionary Force in France. When bilingual experienced operators proved impossible to find in sufficient numbers, the Army turned to bright, bilingual women to train as operators. Schmid was exactly the type of woman that the army was recruiting. As a governess, she was probably bright and educated; coming from Switzerland, she likely spoke French; living in the United States for over 2 years, she likely spoke English. Her Swiss background would not have disqualified her from consideration. Three of the operators hired by the U.S. Army were born in Switzerland. Schmid’s alleged plan join the operators to spy for the Germans wasn’t an illogical one. How did the Army protect its communications against such efforts?

The process began with an application that requested information about a potential operator’s work experience and language skills; her health, age, and place of birth.[5] While job qualifications were important, what was paramount at this stage of the process was place of birth. According to Army regulations in connection with hiring operators, “American citizens are preferred, but applications from any of the Allies of the United States will be considered.”[6] An applicant born in German, Austria-Hungary, or any other enemy nation was immediately disqualified.

During the First World War, Americans were very suspicious of people and things German. German spies and acts of sabotage in the U.S. were well publicized. Vivid descriptions of German atrocities in Belgium and elsewhere only added to the prejudice, even against German-born individuals who’d lived in the U.S. for decades. So, while German treachery was not entirely a figment of the imagination, that imagination got wildly carried away as the war progressed.[7] As the result of such paranoia, all Germans over the age of 14 living in the United States had to register with the government. Many were arrested and detained for the duration of the war. Innocent people with German sounding names were caught up in this hysteria and persecuted for no good reason whatsoever.

Newspaper articles advertising the need for bilingual female telephone operators to serve in the U.S. Army Signal Corps in 1917.

Operator applicants were well aware of this prejudice and sometimes addressed possible concerns head-on. Melanie Van Gastel pointed out (truthfully) that the “van” in her last name was not German. “[V]on,” she wrote, “is always German. [V]an [is] Dutch or Flemish.”[8] (Van Gastel was eventually hired.) Others tried subterfuge. Martha Steinbrunner claimed to be from French-held Lorraine, instead of German-held Alsace-Lorraine. When the Army determined her to be from the latter, she was immediately dismissed.[9] No German-born woman became an operator.

If an application was favorably received, the operator was granted an interview. As part of this she had to convince the interviewer that her motives for service were patriotic and she was loyal to the American cause. It explicitly said in the interview instructions that, “the interviewer should take such steps as are practicable to satisfy himself of the loyalty of the applicant” and “give his opinion … in the report of the interview.”[10] In reviewing various interview reports, the interviewer usually claimed that a woman had a “desire to serve” or “patriotic motives” for service.

Some elaborated further. For example, Cordelia Dupuis’ interviewer said, “Has a keen desire to enter the service of the country. Comes from a family of sixteen and the boys are all too young for service. Feels that the family should be represented in the service….”[11]

Additionally, the applicant had to provide “the names and addresses of the persons … for indorsement [sic.] in connection with the work that you have undertaken for the government.”[12] Letters from relatives were not acceptable; the letters were to be written by “previous employers or … other persons of standing in their own community.”[13] These referees were then asked to provide “all information that you have bearing on your knowledge of the applicant’s qualifications to fill the position, particularly in so far as character, integrity and patriotism are concerned.”[14] The resulting letters coupled with interviews of friends, neighbors, and employers painted a fairly complete picture of the character of the potential operator, much like background checks today.

Oleda Joure

Loyalty and demonstrations of loyalty were very important during World War I. Former President Theodore Roosevelt, and many others, preached loyalty to the American population, insisting that, “all our people practice patriotism of service.” [15] Local councils of defense attacked and punished people thought to be pro-German. Neighbors reported neighbors that seemed to be wavering in loyalty. A Pittsburgh man who refused to stand during the National Anthem was charged with disorderly conduct and fined $10. An Ohio shop girl who did not show proper patriotism was made to kiss a flag, wrapped in it, marched to the bank, and forced to buy a $50 bond.[16] One had to wear patriotism on her sleeve, or all would be lost.

To impress the AEF and hopefully get the job, the applicants asked the most prominent men and women they knew to write references as to their character and patriotism. Clergymen, doctors, business leaders, and even congressmen were called upon to endorse an applicant. For example, Dr. Aaron B. Armsbury wrote, “This will introduce Miss Oleda Joure whom I have known for twenty years. I can thoroughly recommend Miss Joure as a young woman of character, integrity, ability, and intense loyalty.”[17] Professor P. J. Frein wrote of Mary Story, “It gives me great pleasure to recommend her especially because I feel sure that the government would find in her a loyal, serious, and efficient servant.”[18]

With all this information in hand, the AEF sifted through the papers to find the best women for the job. Further interviews might be conducted to confirm loyalty or verify letters of recommendation. Although urged to dismiss anyone for whom loyalty was in question, hiring officers realized that hints of German sympathy might be unfounded, perhaps a way to settle old grudges. Promising women for whom one dissenting voice appeared were granted further investigation.

Minnie Goldman

For example, Minnie Goldman’s first interviewer reported that her father was German.[19] Understandably, Minnie panicked and quickly sent a letter off to the AEF recruiters, stating that “My parents are both of Roumanian [sic.] origin, having lived in that country up to the time we came to the United States.”[20] Further investigation showed that her father did come from Romania, having “fled the country some twenty years ago, at a time when the Jews were being massacred.”[21] Mr. Goldman was very loyal to the cause, encouraging his son to join the Army, who at the time of Minnie’s interview, was in training to go overseas.[22] In the end, Goldman was hired. While hints of disloyalty were dangerous, the AEF was wise enough to check before rejecting a promising candidate on the basis of a false report. If loyalty was indeed in question, the applicant was finished.

And so, it was the skilled women who survived these measures of loyalty that were sent to France to connect telephone calls for the AEF. Once in Europe the operators lived under a series of rules to protect them and the information they carried. Switchboard offices were only accessible to authorized personnel. Operators had curfews and were often required to travel in the company of an officer or another operator. Operators were sometimes questioned by a seemingly random stranger see if they would divulge information – not one of them did. Yet, at the same time, these rules were not foolproof. Operators were often out after curfew, with other operators opening locked residence doors when they came home. Operators also went for solitary walks in the countryside and frequented French shops and businesses alone. Any one of these might have given the operator a chance to divulge secrets. While none of them did, the opportunity was there.

So, the story of protecting information in Germany becomes the old story of the best defense is a good offence. Because it was impossible to remove opportunities for espionage in World War I France, the best thing to do was to only send the most loyal, reliable, patriotic Americans to the warzone.

And what of Miss Schmid? Could she have gotten the opportunity to spy for Germany? Probably not as an operator. Her German-sounding name would have raised concerns from the start. While her Massachusetts employer might have given her a good recommendation, her suspicious behavior in Denver – never mind El Paso – would have been discovered during her background investigation and she would have been quickly disqualified. The level of concern during the First World War was too high for such whispers to be ignored. In the end, it didn’t matter because Schmid remained in jail until June 1918 when the Swiss government paid bond for her release. The charges against her weren’t dismissed until December, after the fighting ended, when the “Swiss minister in Washington attested to her Swiss nationality.”[23] I can’t find any trace of Catherine Schmid after December 1918.

The “Hello Girls” AEF telephone operators and many other Americans who went overseas in World War I had access to information that would have been very valuable to the Germans. By selecting the most reliable, loyal, patriotic Americans to hold these positions, the U.S. Army went a long way to protect their vital communications. Operator applicants intent on espionage, as Schmid allegedly was, were discovered and rejected before they did any damage to the American cause.

—♦—

[1] El Paso Herald, March 19, 1918

[2] El Paso Herald, June 24, 1918

[3] El Paso Herald, March 19, 1918

[4] El Paso Herald, March 19, 1918

[5] See for example the Personnel (201) Folders of the following operators: Jean Cunningham, Cordelia DuPuis, Agnes Theriault, Melanie VanGastel, and many others; National Archives Civilian Personnel Records Center, St. Louis, MO.

[6] “Report of Interview Applicants for position with Signal Corps Telephone Operators Unit;” AT&T Corporate Archives, Warren, NJ; p. 4

[7] Christopher Capozzola, Uncle Sam Wants You: World War I and the Making of the Modern American Citizen (New York: Oxford University Press, 2008), 177.

[8] “From Office of the Chief Signal Officer, Room 826, Mills Building Annex, Washington, D.C. To Miss Melanie van Gastel…”; Personnel (201) Folders of Melanie van Gastel; National Archives Civilian Personnel Records Center, St. Louis, MO.

[9] “Miss Martha Steinbrunner, Operator”; Operators Discharged From Training Folder; 231.3 Telephone Operators; Record Group 111, Box 398; National Archives Building, College Park, MD; 876.

[10] “Report of Interview Applicants for position with Signal Corps Telephone Operators Unit;” AT&T Corporate Archives, Warren, NJ; p. 6

[11] “Confidential Report of Interviewer”; Personnel (201) Folders of Cordelia DuPuis; National Archives Civilian Personnel Records Center, St. Louis, MO.

[12] “Miss Ena Robb, 434 W 120 St. New York”; Personnel (201) Folders of Ena Robb; National Archives Civilian Personnel Records Center, St. Louis, MO.

[13] “Report of Interview Applicants for position with Signal Corps Telephone Operators Unit;” AT&T Corporate Archives, Warren, NJ; p.6

[14] From Office of the Chief Signal Officer to Mrs. Helen Strait Remer;” Personnel (201) Folders of Ena Robb; National Archives Civilian Personnel Records Center, St. Louis, MO.

[15] Robert H. Ferrell, Woodrow Wilson and World War I 1917-1921 (New York: Harper and Row, Publishers, 1985), 204.

[16] Ibid.

[17] “Miss Oleda Ruth Joure, Operator”; 231.3 Telephone Operators (Overseas) (6th Group); Record Group 111, Box 400; National Archives Building, College Park, MD, 257.

[18] “Miss Mary Caroline Story, Operator”; 231.3 Telephone Operators (Overseas) (6th Group); Record Group 111, Box 400; National Archives Building, College Park, MD, 297.

[19] “Confidential Report of Interviewer, Feb 15, 1918; Personnel (201) Folders of Minnie Goldman; National Archives Civilian Personnel Records Center, St. Louis, MO.

[20] Minnie Goldman to Capt. Wessen, Signal Corps, March 11, 1918; Personnel (201) Folders of Minnie Goldman; National Archives Civilian Personnel Records Center, St. Louis, MO.

[21] “Confidential Report of Interviewer”, April 16, 1918; Personnel (201) Folders of Minnie Goldman; National Archives Civilian Personnel Records Center, St. Louis, MO.

[22] Ibid.

[23] The Bisbee Daily Review, December 11, 1918.

–Originally presented at the Cryptologic History Symposium, October 2017

Jill Frahm

Jill Frahm is the History Instructor in the General Education Department of Dakota County Technical College in Minnesota. She is also the Roraract co-adviser and Co-Chair of the General Education Department. Jill holds a Ph.D. in History from the University of Minnesota, and an M.A. and B.A. in History from the University of Maryland. Before coming to DCTC, she was employed as both a public and academic historian for several organizations including the U.S. government.

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