Who is The Mole?

The Mole is a gentleman of a certain age. English, of course, and awfully well-educated at such celebrated seats of advanced learning such as Oxford and Harvard.

“If you think about it, that’s really Oxford and Cambridge, isn’t it?” he says. “Oxford in England and Cambridge in Massachusetts!”

After graduation, he was lured into the Secret Intelligence Service and was soon trained, armed and really rather dangerous. He says that this part of his life was his “government gun-slinger” phase. This involved going to hot spots in the Cold War. He claims that he spent several months living in a tree in North Vietnam, although he says it might have been Laos, watching Charlies going down the Ho Chi Minh Trail. He’s not a big fan of Jane Fonda and he doesn’t like rice, so it’s probably true.

Later he is known to have attended the US Army Russian Institute in Garmisch-Partenkirchen before beginning a series of postings in embassies, including stints in Moscow, Berlin, Geneva, Prague, Paris and, so rumour has it, Nairobi. His name is also mentioned sometimes in relation to Northern Ireland. In early 1990 he spent several months on secondment to the FBI in New York, studying wire-tapping techniques being used at the time to trap Mafia gangsters. After that he was posted to London and given a nice soft job of setting up to the Motor Racing and Tinpot Dictator Department of the SIS, although the words “Tinpot Dictator” were later replace by “Trade Development” because some misguided mandarin did not want to upset Britain’s enemies.

“Trade Development?” says The Mole. “Yes, we did generate more business for Britain, but we did it by blowing up things that belonged to foreigners and other nasty tricks.”

The Mole is believed to have the rank of Counsellor at the Foreign Office in London, although he remains at SIS headquarters at Vauxhall Cross. Some years ago he was appointed a Companion of The Most Distinguished Order of St. Michael & St. George (CMG). Often this is followed within five or six years by  “a K” and The Mole is waiting for his knighthood and will then retire to the Villa Mole, a splendid but fading house, overlooking the Bay of Angels, on the Côte d’Azur. He is a member of The Travellers’ Club, an establishment for gentlemen in Pall Mall in London.

The Mole began writing about Formula 1 in 2000, at a time when the Labour Party was keen to give Britain’s secret services a more human face, although outside SIS no one knows his real identity. The only details available are what has been published in his columns, but there are no guarantees that any of it is true.

The Mole has four assistants in the MRTDD, all of then called Penelope.



  1. Glad that u are back!

  2. Over the Christmas holidays I happened upon a copy I had made of The Mole reports that I would re-read at random for a good chuckle. These posts are dated from 28 December 2001 to 11 June 2009. As it had been over two years since the last posting I had resigned myself to the fact that the Mole had probably gone on to that great pit stop in the sky. No more Colonel, Mrs Batty, Reverend O, Oswald, or the Penelopes. Apparently my resignation was premature. I can assure you that there is no one happier this new year to see this latest posting. Long Live The Mole!

  3. Yee haw! Keep those Pennys in order.

  4. About time! Welcome back!

  5. What joy, this is my first exposure to the jottings of the Mole, really enjoying the experience! long may it continue

  6. I just found out that The Mole is back!! Huzzah!

  7. Has the mole been culled? There have been no new postings for months. Not succumbed to one the Penelope’s charms and retired to the Cote d’Azur? Better than a knighthood! 🙂

  8. Wow, the Mole is back. I had missed him dearly. His posts are not only great read to know the intrincicacies of F1, but the prose in which those are written. And then there is a Bond flavour that
    serves as a spice to all that. Welcome Back!!

  9. The Mole is obviously under deep cover – but I am still checking these pages regularly for his return.

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