By Thomas Bainbridge
A daring, dashing secret agent: handsome, charismatic, as well-versed in the art of seduction as of espionage.

You might think this is a description of James Bond. However, it just as equally applies to Eddie Chapman.
There are more than a few sources that claim he was part inspiration for Fleming’s character.
His MI5 file description reads:
“Four gold teeth, scar on knee. Physically strong and lean. Handsome. Extremely attractive to women.”
However, unlike the fictional 007, Chapman was not born into the upper-crust of society, but into a working-class household in 1914, in Berwick-Upon-Tweed, from where his family moved to Burnopfield, County Durham, and finally to Sunderland, where Eddie grew up.
Eddie’s father was owner of The Clipper-Ship pub in Monkwearmouth, but finding little employment in 1930s Sunderland amid constant striking, Chapman made his way to London to seek his fortune.
Soldier
Taking advantage of his physicality, Chapman, faking his age, joined the Coldstream Guards at only seventeen and was tasked with sentry duty within the Tower of London. Finding the routine dull, within a few months he went AWOL, instead staying with a local beauty. Before long, the relationship soured and she reported him to the authorities, for which he was court-martialled and placed in military prison for nine months, thereupon being dishonourably discharged.
Safe Cracker
Employment again was sparse, and his army record did him no favours. After briefly making some money being a film-extra, Eddie was drawn into the criminal underworld of London. He fell into the company of a disreputable scoundrel, Freddie. So it was that Freddie and Eddie went into ‘business’. They became prolific robbers, cracking safes and stealing merchandise across the country. They chose their heists carefully, looking to places that would be less strongly guarded, though which still offered lucrative possibilities.
The pair travelled to Harrogate to rob a furrier, with mink coats galore, after which they artfully cracked the lock to the safe, revealing hundreds of pounds sterling. Flush with the cash and coats, they made a quick getaway back down south.
Clearly impatient with their method of safecracking, they found a more explosive option, even if it was a little louder, by using gelignite. This led to Scotland Yard dubbing them the ‘Gelignite Squad’, and by the newspapers, more comically, ‘The Jelly Gang’.
Fast Eddie
Soon, their method of robbery attracted too much heat from the Yard. Instead, they looked northward once again. Checking into a hotel in Edinburgh, the now-larger gang waited until nightfall to spring their plan, breaking into a department store. However, an ill-timed police patrol sent them scrambling to escape, leading to a high-speed chase that saw them get as far as Scotch Corner before being headed off by the cavalry and returned to the scene of the crime in cuffs.
No doubt due to his charisma, Chapman was somehow able to convince the authorities to release him on bail — foolishly as it happens, as he instantly returned to his trade, robbing more joints, and using the money to post bail for his accomplices.
The Jelly Gang now set their sights on Monte Carlo, and from there, to make their escape to the Americas. En-route, however, they were overtaken by the law in Jersey. Here was another astonishing break for Eddie. Due to the peculiarities of the Jersey legal system, Chapman would not be extradited to the mainland but was set to spend time in the local, and somewhat laxer, joint. He instantly contrived an escape plan, laying low for a few months to gain the trust of the warden, innocently spending his time memorising the poetry of Tennyson, and cultivating an interest in ancient artwork. He soon became the prison’s gardener…
When he was least suspected, Eddie put his breakout into effect. He had climbed onto the roof of the warden’s study when his quick wits prevented his capture. In his own words,
“As I made my way along the roof I was seen by some nurses in the adjoining hospital. They stared at me and pointed. I took a piece of string out of my pocket and began measuring the slates. I heard their laughter at mistaking me for an escaping convict.”
On the outside he quickly picked up two local girls as a cover story. Still, he was soon recaptured and faced three more years of languishing in the Jersey prison.
And here he might have remained had not world events overtook him and forged his destiny.
Becoming a Spy
In September 1939, Germany invaded Poland, and within a year the Germans had swept across and occupied Europe, including the Channel Islands. The prison was thus given over to German administration. With Chapman as its most notorious prisoner, he became an object of intrigue for the new commandant, especially when he offered his services to Germany.
Why did he want to join the Nazi secret service? What were his motivations? Chapman replied that he felt resentment at the authorities and the English aristocrats who had despised him. The commandant asserted that he would be very welcome if he could prove himself. He was shipped off to Germany and granted a new German name, Fritz Graumann, and a fake backstory: being an American with German parents to explain his odd accent.
His spy training was extensive: languages, physical combat, radio operating, gun handling, psychological techniques, all as good as MI5 could provide, though not without knocking out a tooth or two after a minor parachuting accident.

In late December 1943, Eddie was dropped into the Cambridge countryside with the task of destroying the De Haviland air works factory.
Before he landed, he was spotted by a farmer waving a pitchfork who alerted the police. Chapman duly waited for them to arrive. However, things nearly came to blows as the officers saw him as nothing other than a heinous traitor and threatened to shoot him on the spot as a spy. Eddie, unphased, demanded to be delivered to MI5. Now at Whitehall, he tried his utmost to convince military intelligence that he was a legitimate asset. Being asked obscure questions in order to catch him out, Eddie made no deviations and the brass realised that he was telling the truth, as fantastic as it was.
With this in mind, MI5 concocted a plan to outfox their German counterparts with the aid of their new double agent. Foremost, in order to convince the Germans that he was still their man, Chapman still had to carry out his task. Under the direction of MI5, they devised a fake sabotage of the factory by recruiting a magician named Jasper Maskelyne (this is all true) to make them seem as though they had been “blown to kingdom come”.
On January 29th, 1943, netting was draped over the real works to simulate a crater, while papier mache structures were built and then rolled over in order to create the illusion of metallic destruction. When photographed from the air, the effect was one of devastation. Furthermore, the news reports from the sabotage were amplified by the authorities to seem even worse than the minimal damage that had actually been inflicted. The Germans, taken in by the ruse, were overawed with the success and sent directions to Eddie for his extraction to occupied Europe. He boarded a merchant vessel bound for neutral Lisbon, and from there was brought back to Germany.

Remarkably, in reward for his services rendered to the Third Reich, Eddie was given a bounty, alongside being decorated with the Iron Cross — the highest award for bravery.
After falsely recounting his time in England, he was given extensive leisure time to be spent in Norway, in which he was to also continue his training. It was here that he met the beauty and resistance fighter, Dagma Lahlum, to whom he confided his dual allegiances. The pair became engaged, though this was soon broken off as he was ordered once more to return to England. Ironically, Chapman was a double-crosser in love as well as war (all’s fair), as he was already engaged to a woman, Freda Stevenson, back in Blighty, albeit who he had not seen in a few years.
Misdirecting the Germans
His next great service to Germany was to relay them the locations in which the newly operational V-1 rockets hit London. Using his sleight of hand, Eddie reported that the rockets were in fact over-shooting their designated targets, though they were in reality directly hitting central London. This caused the rocket engineers to ‘correct’ their calculations, sending many V-1s to sputter out harmlessly over the Kent and Surrey countrysides.
Needless to say, this saved countless lives, and might have shortened the war somewhat, as Allied strategy did not need to be widely diverted to capture the V-1 launching sites.
An Old Rogue
Of little more use to MI5, Chapman was given a pardon for all his pre-war activities and unleashed once more upon London, the city he had helped so much to save. He had not exactly turned over a new leaf, though, and Eddie returned to the life of crime including smuggling.

More than a few times, MI5 colleagues stood in court to testify as a character reference for his excellent wartime service. Still, he was not entirely to be trusted. His memoirs naturally had to be censored by the War Office for the details they contained, and he was indicted under the Official Secrets Act for trying to flog his story to the News of the World.

In later life, he slowed down. He had married an old flame, Betty Farmer, though he continued to have numerous affairs until his late 70s. He became an antiques dealer, living quietly in Ireland and Italy. But his notoriety remained such that he socialised with global figures: ambassadors, Arabian emirs, even the Shah of Iran.
Chapman was one of those men who craved danger and excitement. According to his MI5 file he was a man who:
“likes — perhaps needs — to live on the fringes of society and has a strong desire to break its rules. He is driven by adventure and is often scornful of authority.”
In times of peace, he was in and out of prison, and in times of war, his natural talents became obvious and could be channelled productively, much to the benefit of King and Country.




Great story!
Thanks.
Did he die in bed?
I think so