An Englishman Abroad

by Gianluca Barneschi

  For SOE’s activities, special weapons and explosives were its bread and butter, both on operations and in study and research. There were numerous instances where SOE’s inventions and developments were adopted by competing services.

  Among Dick Mallaby’s surviving documents is a notebook (neatly handwritten and beautifully illustrated) dated 12 February 1942 of the ‘Explosives and weapons course’ that he completed during his training. If this notebook had been found during a house search in the post-war period after Mallaby’s death it would have made for some awkward moments for his wife and children, given the detailed instructions on how to make explosive devices and how to attack the railway infrastructure.

  Much of the technology developed during World War II was later applied for more peaceful purposes, before the advent of the digital age. Many of the devices, including some technologically sophisticated ones that later became relatively common, had their origins in less peaceful inventions and/or special development work by the designated SOE department (Station IX, or Q – as imaginatively represented in the James Bond films). Many deserve to be remembered as the products of creative minds seasoned with a pinch of high spirits.

  In terms of transport methods, in addition to the Welbike (a foldable minibike), SOE created an electric-powered submersible canoe, dubbed ‘Sleeping Beauty’, and the Welfreighter midget submarine, the existence of which was revealed only in the 1990s.

  Among the weapons used by SOE agents was the simple but powerful Sten gun, but also foreign-made items. SOE helped pioneer the use of plastic explosives (the name, which stuck, derived from the habit of SOE agents of packing the soft explosive matériel inside plastic). Other innovative creations that made it through testing included magnetic (‘limpet’) mines, a folding canoe and timed detonators.

  One of the most creative inventions, however, was the ‘explosive rat’. Dozens of rodents (officially acquired for laboratory experiments) were skinned, filled with plastic explosives and stitched back together. These stuffed rats would be left near boilers: the instinctive reaction of those who found them would be to toss them into the fire, resulting in a devastating explosion. The results were positive, although unexpected. A delivery of these ‘weapons’ was intercepted by the Germans, and the discovery triggered an explosive rat hunt that wasted precious energy and created a threat that was greater in the mind of the enemy than any damage that the stuffed rodents could create, demonstrating that creativity pays, even if unexpectedly.

  The SOE laboratories also developed radical reworkings of older weapons, such as a repeating crossbow which fired incendiary darts. But the fundamental operational need that its technicians were called upon to respond to was, obviously, the concealment of weapons, quartz crystal oscillators, codes, money and maps. To this end, all manner of objects and matériel were exploited and utilized.

  In addition to certain objects that later became classics for secret agents and terrorists, such as explosive soaps and mines in the form of fake cowpats or elephant dung, the exploitation of everyday objects included adapting books, packs of cigarettes, cans of food, shirt buttons, sponges, tubes of toothpaste and shaving soap – often featuring labels from the places where they were to be used. In order to conceal two-way radios, explosives and other items, fake fruit and vegetables (such as the beetroot grenade carrier), piles of wood and explosive coal (in hundreds of different shapes, precisely because each piece of coal is different) were created.

  As far as creative weaponry is concerned, the list includes itching powder (which, according to the instructions, was best applied inside underwear); a special paste, contained in a tube of toothpaste, which when applied to vehicle windscreens formed a layer that obscured visibility from the inside; a highly useful deodorant, which covered the wearer’s scent to dogs; and stink bombs.10

  One particular application created for use in Italy was a fake bottle of Chianti. This comprised a perfect celluloid flask, complete with labels and signature straw basket, divided into two parts: one containing wine, and the other a detonator and explosive charge.

  With regard to combat knives, research focused on concealment. One of the best products created by SOE’s experimental departments was a small combat knife, which could be stored in a boot heel or coat lapel.

  As for the supply of resistance movements, SOE’s extremely pragmatic approach to operations clearly comes through. Consignments almost always consisted of light arms (being easier to transport, parachute in and use) and were usually sourced from war booty.

  The famous cyanide pills – which, despite the legends, few were happy to equip themselves with, and perhaps nobody ever used – were intended for rapid suicide in a dead-end situation. They were normally hidden in the buttons of overcoats. A particularly sophisticated version was covered with a hard casing; it could be hidden between the teeth and, if necessary, crushed, using strong pressure.

  Although SOE had great success with its developments in weaponry and technology, there were problems to be faced in other areas. A considerable issue was transportation, for which SOE was dependent, at least initially, on the availability of regular service units. The Royal Navy was always reluctant to allow the use of its submarines and other means for transporting agents and materials, due to the dangers inherent in approaching enemy coastlines too closely.

  SOE also had problems with air transportation, especially in the face of firm opposition from Air Marshal Arthur ‘Bomber’ Harris to offering RAF assets. In time, matters improved, but a lack of aircraft continually affected SOE activities and caused friction with various clandestine forces due to the favouring of certain operational options at the expense of others.

  SOE agents thus often infiltrated using fishing vessels and other small boats, frequently steered personally by SOE personnel. SOE also developed another futuristic vehicle: the Witch, a two-seater submarine, which featured a handy timed and programmable diving and emersion function.

  Given SOE’s particular requirements, purpose designed and built aircraft would have been ideal, but some compromise was required here. The typical airframes used for SOE missions, both for agent transport and for recovery and rescue from enemy territory, were the Westland Lysander (a small aircraft, the chief benefit of which was the ability to land and take off in little over 300 metres, even on unprepared runways), the Lockheed Hudson and the Douglas DC-3 Dakota.

  For parachute missions, SOE generally used bombers: initially, the Armstrong Whitworth Whitley, and then the Handley Page Halifax and the Short Stirling. Parachuted matériel, the delivery of which was just as important as the missions of SOE’s agents, was dropped loose, or in special cylindrical containers, some of which could be broken up into pieces to simplify ground transport.

  For marking a drop zone, or rendezvous site, the usual method was somewhat primitive: the site was illuminated with bonfires or bicycle lights. However, this required excellent visibility, in part to ensure the correct site was targeted.

  Over time, and in order to facilitate these difficult operations, SOE’s technicians developed a small, portable wireless telephone called the S-Phone and even a portable radar.

  All this technical work was paralleled by careful research into the culture and customs of the nations in which operations were planned, including analysis of current clothing trends.

  In training, particular care was taken in analysing the psychological makeup of agents and evaluating their reactions in the kinds of tricky situations in which they might find themselves. In addition to specific courses on resisting interrogation and torture, SOE instructors focused heavily on getting agents to process radio-telegraphic messages briefly and concisely, and on security issues; the latter was with particular reference to the destruction of cryptographic codes, which, it was realized, agents had a surprising tendency to avoid doing.

  A fundamental aspect of an SOE agent’s work was cryptographic radio-telegraphy. Encoding and decrypting transmissions were not automatic processes, but instead r
elied on cyphers and special devices. Anyone tuned to the wavelength of a certain transmission could receive a message tapped out in Morse code, but they would be unable to understand it if it was encrypted. Thus the composition, security and usability of the cyphers were essential aspects, as was the ability and speed of the person transmitting.

  Radios featured interchangeable mini-quartz crystal oscillators, the size of a stamp (usually hidden inside small boxes), the characteristics of which determined the transmission frequency.

  Initially the portable radios used by SOE were supplied by SIS, but these turned out to be quite unsuitable, being cumbersome, heavy (at 20kg) and power-hungry to operate.

  Improvements in SOE’s transmission activities were thanks to the work of Polish technicians in exile who helped create models specifically designed and made for the needs of SOE operatives. At the height of their development, radios came to weigh (complete with batteries) just over 4kg and, despite being much smaller in size, were able to handle transmissions receivable up to a range of several hundred kilometres. Radios for use in permanent sites were naturally different.

  For the transmission of a secret message, composition using secure codes is only part of the task: in addition to preventing the enemy from understanding its contents, it is just as important to prevent him from identifying the transmission’s point of origin using radiolocation.

  To prevent the identification of a transmission site, there is only one fail safe method: spend as little time as possible transmitting on the same frequency. This is achieved by avoiding verification and recognition transmissions, and by varying transmission frequencies, thus making scanning more difficult.

  At the outset of SOE’s activities, its results in this area were less than satisfactory, due to the clumsiness of secret message composition. After several failures, notably in the Netherlands which involved the capture and often death of operatives, and their replacement by German imposters, with obvious consequences, things only improved when SOE decided to adopt its own cyphers and introduced safer, improved operating procedures. At the same time in order to make it harder to identify transmission sites, it imposed a limit on each transmission of five minutes; this meant that unavoidably lengthy messages were relayed across multiple transmissions (with some extreme examples split into more than 90 separate parts). No operator was ever captured as a result of failures in code security, and the only incidents were the consequence of failure to respect the rules.11

  SOE created an autonomous Italian section (Department J) only in October 1941, with Lieutenant-Colonel Cecil Roseberry at its head. Roseberry had no knowledge of the Italian language or issues relating to the country, and only one assistant.12

  SOE’s operational activity in Italy was initially executed in very limited ways. Until August 1943, SOE’s lack of success in Italy was due to a scarcity of Italian volunteers, the remarkable efficiency of Italian internal security services, and an almost total infiltration by Italian counterespionage assets of the network organized and run from the base in Bern, Switzerland. The entire leadership was also paying the price for an overly optimistic assessment at the top of British politics regarding the number of effective and exploitable anti-fascists.

  The invasion of the Italian peninsula, the defenestration of Mussolini and the beginning of the collaboration of that part of the army still loyal to the king saw the beginning of a series of operations, remarkable in both scope and number, in support of the Italian resistance in the areas under the control of the Repubblica Sociale Italiana (RSI)13 . In many of the principal operations in the 1943–45 period, SOE agents acted not only as instructors, but also as liaison officers.

  The fundamental strategic aim of this support activity was somewhat incongruous: to keep the German forces in the Italian peninsula, to prevent them from being used in other theatres. This, along with the dismissive attitude of British politicians and military leaders towards a former enemy whose institutional representatives lacked competence and cohesion, introduced further elements of ambiguity and complication into SOE’s activities. This was problematic because, given the particular nature of its activities, SOE required effective and assured collaboration both operationally and politically, not least because operational dynamics and the demands of resistance and guerrilla movements do not always go hand in hand with those of general military operations, nor with special operations, espionage or counterespionage. The memories of Italy and the Italians preserved by the men and women of SOE are varied and witnessed in different ways.14

  The observations of Raimondo Craveri, a top figure in the Italian resistance movement, appear rather timely (and not entirely positive):

  An English colonel told me one day how much the Italian people remained incomprehensible to him. According to his experience, Italians lived in peace and good harmony only in the absence of all constituted power. But in Italy this absence did not result in anarchy, with all that anarchy entails. The lack of all constituted power joined us together, instead of unleashing us in a war of all against all. When a village stays in no man’s land for weeks, between our lines and those of the enemy, people do not steal and do not kill each other, but they help each other in an incredible way. All this is both absurd and marvellous. We arrive, and we institute the vital offices and services of the AMG (Allied Military Government) and the Italians immediately split apart, squabble, fight over trivialities, denounce each other. The prior harmony dissolves into feuds and all manner of vendetta. It is truly incredible.15

  When the war ended, an institutional conflict broke out: the presiding minister, Lord Selborne, proposed continuing the service while ending its almost complete independence (it would become a department of the Ministry of Defence), and tasking it with dealing with Communist Bloc countries and the Middle East. The Foreign Office wanted to reclaim control over it, based on the premise that SIS was also under its control. Selborne observed, caustically, that ‘Having the SOE managed by the Foreign Office would be like inviting an abbess to manage a brothel.’

  Churchill made no decision on the matter, and, following his July 1945 electoral debacle, the issue was addressed by the new Labour Prime Minister, Clement Attlee, in an extremely brusque and sharp manner. Faced with the insistence of Selborne, who also described SOE’s worldwide network of agents and radios at its disposal, Attlee replied that it was not his intent to run a British Comintern and authorized its termination, giving it 48 hours’ notice.

  Special Operations Executive officially ceased to exist on 15 January 1946. Most of the staff returned to their previous occupations, civilian or military. Only a small number (fewer than 300) of SOE personnel were transferred into SIS’s Special Operations Branch. During SOE’s operational lifetime, even its leaders remained unknown to most and were not identified by name. Those allowed to contact them referred to them by codename, of which there might be more than one depending on the interlocutor, with obvious correspondence confusion resulting.

  The decision to make payments to all SOE members tax-free was also a result of the desire to retain anonymity.

  This curtain of secrecy was retained after the war not because of SOE’s mistakes, but because of its achievements. Revealing SOE’s involvement in some of the historic successes which led to victory would have overturned the widely accepted version of events presented at the time.

  The secrecy that has surrounded SOE’s activities during and after the war has clearly affected the amount of useful documents available to researchers. The weighty study The Secret History of SOE, written by the historian William Mackenzie at war’s end and sanctioned for internal use only, is emblematic of this. Completed in 1948, this book was only finally released for wider publication in 2000.

  Moreover, the nature of SOE’s activities not only greatly hampered the availability of archival material, but also clearly led to the ‘sanitization’ and suppression of documents at a much higher rate than for those relating to less clandestine topics.

  With regar
d to the 20-year-long research presented in this work, I consider myself to have been fortunate. Although a series of mysterious fires in 1945 destroyed a lot of material in SOE’s archives, the (some only recently) declassified documents relating to Dick Mallaby’s missions appear both complete and plentiful. Among the papers examined for this work, some ‘cleansing’ and blacking out is evident, but thankfully rare.

  And, as usual, sometimes it’s useful to read between the lines...

  3

  Operation Neck, 14 August 1943

  The First Mission

  (Or: how agent Dick Mallaby is thrown into the fray and parachutes into Lake Como; swiftly captured in an unfortunate sequence of events, he manages to escape the firing squad.)

  It is not enough that we do our best; sometimes we must do what is required.

  In wartime, truth is so precious that we must always protect it with a curtain of lies.

  Sir Winston S. Churchill (1874–1965)

  Dick Mallaby was a perfect candidate for SOE: besides being young, reckless, sporty and multilingual, in the course of his military career he had also qualified as a paratrooper and was a skilled wireless operator. And he had grown up in one of the countries which Britain was now fighting.

  While the Italian state security services had placed Dick Mallaby and his family under surveillance from the outbreak of war, in Britain, Special Operations Executive had not immediately spotted his potential.

  It is fair to say that the trump card on Mallaby’s CV – the fact that he had lived in Italy for a long time, and had a perfect knowledge of its language, customs, transport network and geography – was not immediatley relevant, given that, apart from Allied bombing raids, in the opening years of the war events were played out far from the Italian peninsula. However, from the point of its creation SOE had attempted to carry out missions in Italy, and, even at the highest level, it was wrongly believed that beneficial subversive and guerrilla activities could be stirred up in Mussolini’s homeland.