You may call me Mr Humphrys,
Or Jones, if you prefer,
It doesn’t really matter, by and large,
I’d have been someone else tomorrow,
If I hadn’t of been caught,
But that’s the way it is with espionage.

I’m sent into your country,
To ingratiate myself,
And try to infiltrate your high command,
Discover all your secrets,
Reveal them to the world,
Then disappear, if all should go to plan.

Last week I was a plumber,
At an embassy in Rome,
And before that a scientist in nuclear fuel,
I’ve been a policeman and a padre,
A mechanic and a judge,
And a janitor at a well-known boarding school.

Today I am a prisoner,
In some third world country’s jail,
Who’ll torture me so badly, I might die,
Of course, I can tell them nothing,
For I’m just a fisherman,
But it seems that they believe that I’m a spy.

Because they found in my possession,
A coin that splits in half,
Is hollow and contained a micro dot,
They asked me where it came from,
And if it belonged to me,
And I swore on all that’s holy, it does not.

Well of course you know I’m lying,
They know I am as well,
And they’ll beat me black and blue and leave me scared,
Then they’ll swap me for somebody,
That our country hold of theirs,
Because that’s how they play the game called espionage.

Then when I’m home they will debrief me,
And find out what I know,
And thank me for my service to the crown,
My usefulness then over,
I’ll await my accident,
You know, “He was swimming in the lake and sadly drowned”.

Well they can’t just leave me out there,
Knowing what I know,
They’d like to but they couldn’t take the chance,
And dead men tell no stories,
Dead men tell no tales,
That’s a fundamental rule in espionage.

And in truth how could I blame them,
It’s no more than I deserve,
I’ve done some pretty bad things in my time,
Always on the pretext it was for the greater good,
But who’s greater good, the other guys or mine?

So you can call me Mr Humphrys,
Call me anything at all,
Call me Mr Smith or Mr Jones,
It won’t make much difference,
When I’m six feet underground,
Carve anything you like upon my stone.

No it won’t make much difference,
After all it’s just a name,
It’s just what you’re called by whoever is in charge,
Or maybe by your loved one,
Though I have precious few of those,
But I suppose that’s the way it is in espionage.


By S.E.Ralph

25-1-2017