On 5 August 1941, at the end of his court martial, Josef Jakobs was handed the verdict of the court, likely in a sealed envelope. He took the envelope back to his cell at Wandsworth Prison. Did he open it immediately upon his return, or sit and stare at it. Given that he was still being held in custody, he must have already suspected the verdict.
He had been sentenced to death.
For the next 10 days, Josef carried the verdict with him, perhaps tucked in his jacket pocket. Did he take it out and re-read it, trying to find a narrow procedural opening, some fragment of information that would give him an out? We will never know.
For decades, we also never knew what happened to that piece of paper. It was not held in the court martial documents, nor in Josef’s MI5 files. Had it been lost to history? Not quite.
A few years ago, while searching through the Imperial War Museums collections database, I came across an intriguing file simply labeled “Court Martial Notice, 1941”. The file description stated that the notice had been issued to Josef Jakobs and signed by him. Could it be the missing verdict? On my late 2025 visit to London, I requested to see the document and it speaks for itself.
The court martial’s verdict was presented to Josef as two pieces of paper, one in English and one in German, both signed by the President of the court martial, Major General B.T. Wilson. The documents were typed in advance and prepared in alternative forms, allowing for either a guilty or not guilty verdict. In Josef’s case, the document found him guilty of committing an offence under the Treachery Act (1940). The document noted that the “court have passed a sentence of death upon you”. There was no recommendation for mercy. And then, a glimmer of hope. The finding and sentence were not final until confirmed by the proper authority, who could uphold or invalidate either the finding or the sentence.
(Photograph copyright G.K. Jakobs – 2025)
Josef’s one hope lay with a plea for mercy to King George VI, but his heartfelt letter to His Majesty was in vain. There was no mercy and the finding and sentence were confirmed.
In the waning hours of Thursday 14 August 1941, Josef received a visit from Lt. Col. W.E. Hinchley-Cooke, the MI5 officer who oversaw the wartime prosecution of enemy spies. There was one final administrative detail that needed to be taken care of, Josef actually needed to sign and acknowledge receipt of the court martial’s verdict. With a grim finality, he picked up a fountain pen and signed his name and then added the date. Within less than 24 hours, he would be a dead man, executed by a Scots Guards firing squad at the Tower of London.
Perhaps Hinchley-Cooke took the tattered pieces of paper with him, to tuck into his file on Josef Jakobs. At some point, someone taped the fragile pieces of paper together. Perhaps, when Hinchley-Cooke oversaw the donation of several items to the Imperial War Museum in 1946, this document was included. The tape was carefully removed and the paper preserved. The verdict survived, even when the man did not.