The British-English compound noun sneaky-beaky (plural sneaky-beakies) designates an intelligence operative, also an intelligence operation.
This noun occurs, for example, in We’ll see you in court, an article by Benjamin Mee about the lawyers and scientists who champion animal rights, published in The Independent (London, England) of Sunday 21st May 2000 [page 10, column 3]:
Steven Wise, president of the Centre for the Expansion of Fundamental Rights, former president of the Animal Legal Defence Fund, and professor of law at several US universities, […] has been championing animal rights for 20 years […]. He began by taking any cases which involved animals, such as veterinary malpractice suits and condemned dog actions. Within seven years his practice was 100 per cent animal-related. Since then he has sued the US Patent Office over issuing patents for genetically engineered animals (and lost), represented a dolphin that the US Navy wanted to second for dangerous “Sneaky Beaky” operations (and won) and saved some 200 “Death Row” dogs.
The noun sneaky-beaky is based on the phonetic similarity between the two words from which it is formed, i.e.:
– sneaky, meaning furtive, deceitful;
– beaky, referring to an inquisitive person, with allusion to a prominent nose—cf. the Australian-English noun stickybeak, denoting an overly inquisitive person.
—Cf. also the nouns nosey parker and Paul Pry.
The earliest occurrences of the noun sneaky-beaky that I have found are as follows, in chronological order:
1-: From The Daily Mail (Hull, Yorkshire, England) of Tuesday 1st February 1966 [page 5, column 4]:
‘Sneaky beaky’ jibe by Hull bingo boss
—Says sergeantWHEN A POLICE sergeant went to search a Hull bingo club after becoming suspicious, on a previous visit, one of the proprietors remarked, “Sneaky beakies. I knew it when you came in last week. I knew you meant to have me,” Hull Stipendiary Magistrate was told today.
Before the court were the joint proprietors, the joint manager and the bingo caller at the Waterloo Bingo Club, Waterloo-street, Hull.
The joint proprietors were James Thomas Guthrie, of 96, Woodland-drive, Anlaby, and William Edward Underwood, of 3, Constable-road, Hornsea.
JOINT MANAGER
The joint manager with Guthrie was Albert Walter Underwood, of 180, Bethune-avenue West, Hull, and the caller was Jack Brown, of Site 10, Kathleen-road, Hull.
Guthrie and William Underwood were accused of occupying a disorderly house, and Albert Underwood, of aiding and abetting them.
They pleaded not guilty.
GAMING MACHINES
All four defendants pleaded guilty to being concerned in unlawful gaming.
Guthrie and both Underwoods pleaded guilty to allowing gaming machines on premises to which the public had access.
Sgt. Leslit Wilson, of Hull City Police Licensing Department, said he began to think there was something wrong with the club when he interviewed Guthrie about an application for the renewal of the club’s permit to operate amusements with prizes.
WARRANT DEMAND
He conducted extensive interviews and eventually went to the club to execute a warrant.
After demanding to see the warrant, Guthrie made his remark about “sneaky beakies,” said Sgt. Wilson.
(Proceeding)
2-: From the Evening Post (Nottingham, Nottinghamshire, England) of Monday 6th February 1978 [page 1, columns 4, 5 & 6]:
‘Sneaky-beaky’ killer
A 22-YEAR-OLD soldier on leave from the Grenadier Guards in Northern Ireland strangled an Arnold widow, and afterwards looked on his night’s work as an Army exercise, Nottingham Crown Court was told today.
The widow, Mrs. Gladys Todd, 56, was found dead in the lounge of her home in Runswick Drive, by two milkmen in the early morning of August 12 last year.
[…]
Andrew William Vincent Nicholson, of Leivers Avenue, Arnold, who pleaded guilty to murder, was said to have known Mrs. Todd.
[…]
In a statement made on the day after the body had been found, Nicholson described how he had been out drinking with his father and went to bed about midnight on August 10.
He could not sleep, and started to think about the night patrols—the “sneaky-beakies”—in Northern Ireland. He got up, dressed in green denims and shirt, blacked his face with shoe polish, took a knife from the draining board in the kitchen and crept down into the garden.
He had covered the knife blade with blue insulation tape to stop it glinting.
He then crawled through the gardens to the back of Mrs. Todds house, which he entered by removing a board from the pantry window and started to look around.
Mrs. Todd came downstairs just as he was feeling under the setee for her handbag. She recognised him in spite of the shoe polish.
“I was terrified and blew it . . . I can’t tell you the rest. It was very stupid.”
3-: From The Daily Telegraph (London, England) of Tuesday 7th February 1978 [page 3, column 3]:
Army instinct ‘led soldier to murder’
A SOLDIER ON LEAVE on leave from Northern Ireland who modelled a robbery on a silent Ulster patrol called a “sneaky beaky,” claimed that his Army instincts led him to kill a widow who caught him, a court was told yesterday.
[…]
[…] Nicholson told police: “I was trapped and she recognised me. The knife was by my side, and it must have been my Army training and instincts.”
Nicholson had added: “I didn’t go there intending to kil lher [sic]. It became an Army exercise.
“I crawled there on all fours like a leopard, my knees falling into the impressions left by my fists. It is part of our Army training.”
Nicholson also told detectives that he modelled the robbery on the “sneaky beaky” Ulster patrol. His motive was robbery because he was hard up.
4-: From Softly-softly approach fills Lancers with cautious hope for the future, the account of a visit by David Leake, Sentinel military correspondent, to the 16th/5th Queen’s Royal Lancers, Staffordshire’s cavalry regiment, based in Lurgan, County Armagh, Northern Ireland—published in the Evening Sentinel (Stoke-on-Trent, Staffordshire, England) of Thursday 12th June 1980 [page 19, column 3]:
In the space of a few days in the Lancers’ far-flung territory—one of their outposts is 70 miles from their main Lurgan base—an Ulster Defence Regiment N.C.O. was shot in the neck, 600 rounds were fired in a skirmish at Crossmaglen, and a car bomb at Newtownhamilton injured four policemen.
‘Sneaky beaky’
Staffordshire’s cavalrymen jokingly refer to some of their surveillance patrols as “sneaky beaky” and “lurks,” where the aim is quiet information-gathering or staring across the border for hours from hides in meadows and on hilltops.
5-: From How Britain could win island war, by Evening Post reporters, published in the Evening Post (Reading, Berkshire, England) of Thursday 29th April 1982 [page 1, column 3]:
—Context: The Falkland Islands, a British crown colony in the South Atlantic, had been invaded by Argentina on Friday 2nd April 1982:
Reports now suggest that public opinion in Argentina and increasing doubts of the junta’s military credibility could force them into some morale-boosting military action—an attempt, in essence, to breach the air and sea zone.
This will almost certainly trigger an attack on Port Stanley airfield by Sea Harriers, and a landing on West Falkland by Royal Marines.
We must expect that the landing beaches and enemy positions would have previously have [sic] been surveyed by Special Boat Squadron frogmen in what the Royal Marines nickname “sneaky beaky” operations.
6-: From the Daily Mirror (London, England) of Monday 7th June 1982 [page 3, column 7]:
Booties are made for yomping
IF YOU’RE off on a yomp, break off to trough, have a wet and get some zeds.
That way you’ll be in tip-top shape to get a skef [sic] at an Argie O.P., vittle it up and then thin out.
As long as you’re a Royal Marine in the Falklands, that is.
What you’ll be doing—in the Marines’ own racy jargon—is trekking cross-country with heavy loads and stopping to eat, drink and sleep.
Then you’ll reconnoitre an Argentine observation post and engage it with small arms fire before withdrawing.
Watch out for Booties (what the Marines call themselves), bimble (a stroll), sneaky beaky (Special Forces’ operations) stag (sentry duty) and magic (how they’ll rate their performance).
7-: From the St. Louis Post-Dispatch (St. Louis, Missouri, USA) of Monday 7th June 1982 [page 18A, columns 5 & 6]:
Skeg At Bootie Argot In Falkland Conflict
LONDON (UPI)—Booties and pongos yomping across the ulu to get a skeg at an Argie op would rather be up the line enjoying a wet and having a leisurely bimble.
Like soldiers everywhere, the British troops on the Falkland Islands have a language of their own—in this case more difficult to understand than the most complex, rhyming Cockney slang.
What the above means is: Royal marines and army soldiers trekked across rough ground to take a look at Argentine soldiers, but would rather be home having a drink and enjoying a quiet stroll.
The argot is enough to fool a sneaky-beaky (intelligence officer).
For anyone traveling to the Falklands in the near future, the following glossary might be useful:
Yomp—March with full field pack.
Bootie or royal—Royal marines.
Pongo, Percy or Crab—Royal marine term for other soldiers.
Wets—any form of drink.
Rooty-Tooty—Sex.
Scratcher—bed.
Skeg—Quick look.
Bimble—Stroll.
Snurgle—Sneak up on.
Up the line—Home.
A quick skeg at Webster’s unabridged dictionary showed none of the above definitions.
8-: From Eyewitness Falklands: A Personal Account of the Falklands Campaign (London: Methuen, 1982), by Robert Fox:
A number of enemy machines were destroyed by Harrier attacks across the island, and by forward SAS backed up by ‘sneaky beaky’ patrols.
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