In total, 40 men were removed from the train, including Furman. As he moved in the line for questioning he had managed to break open the tobacco in his pockets from its cellophane and dispose of the tell-tale wrappings. Just as it was his turn to be questioned he recollected the small Union Jack badge which he invariably wore under his lapel. It was too late to do anything about it then.
My identity card was one issued by the Vatican City State and ostensibly signed by the Governor but, I regret, without his knowledge or authority. The accompanying document was a certificate from the Vatican to the effect that I was an employee there in the Office of Technical Services. The soldiers had probably never seen documents like it before; few people had. The power of the Vatican!13
The documents which had been forged by Princess Nini were of high quality and managed to ensure his release.
On 18 May, the Allied Forces took Cassino and with that, it became clear a significant turn in the War had taken place.
Explosions and the sound of artillery reaches us fitfully by night and by day at present … Late yesterday evening even more refugees came, having escaped from the concentration camp, like the others. Then this morning, still more fleeing from the renewed bombing at Frascati – men, women and children.14
(Mother Mary St Luke, 25 May 1944)
Hope rises as the Allies progress. We have waited for over eight months, but now every added hour seems interminable … The threatened search for patriots, from house to house, is not taking place after all. And for an excellent reason. No one would undertake it … they were afraid. Popular feeling is running high, the patriots are armed and have plenty of ammunition, and a popular rising might easily follow police action of that sort. No one wanted to put a match to that particular powder barrel, above all with the Allies thundering, as it were, at the gates of the city. So the terrible threat formulated from after midnight on May 25th has come to nothing like so many other Fascist undertakings.15
(Mother Mary St Luke, 27 May 1944)
The sound of war continues to echo around us day and night, but unusually continuous pounding of guns in the Alban hills began to be heard about mid day. The electric current for such buses and trams as remained to us was cut off this morning, so one has to walk or not go at all. It is really better for everyone to stay indoors, especially the men.16
(Mother Mary St Luke, 29 May 1944)
As the month of May draws to a close the people of Rome anxiously await the arrival of the Allies. The City maintains its traditional calm and sober elements of the population are doing their utmost to get the public to avoid hostile demonstrations towards the occupation authorities. The Gestapo has all but disappeared from the streets and one rarely sees a German soldier these days.17
(MacWhite, 31 May 1944)
In the meantime, Furman had decided that he had been over-optimistic in anticipating the arrival of Allied soldiers, and mindful of the necessity to account for money, sent a note to Sam Derry on 29 May:
I am very much afraid that we shall have to pay out again for June – at any rate, for half the month. What a pity! All my bets were to the effect that they would be here this month.18
Suddenly everyone wanted to help but way ‘ahead of the posse’ was the double agent, Cipolla. The big fear at this stage was that the Germans, enraged by the turn of events, would start to shift all the prisoners out of Rome to concentration camps or even shoot them. Adrienne Lucidi came up with the answer. She was aware that Cipolla wanted to get into the Allies’ good books as quickly as he could. She proposed that they give him his chance by instructing him to tell the Germans that he had made contact with the escape organisation and would be in a position to infiltrate it if he could get Simpson released as an earnest of good faith. It was decided that Cipolla should ask for the release of two prisoners of his choice. If this request was granted, he was to endeavour to secure the freedom of Simpson and a Captain John Armstrong who had been in the prison for about nine months. The Germans agreed and supplied Cipolla with a list of British prisoners. Neither name was on it. All he could do was pick two names at random, and to their great surprise, two English civilians who had been jailed since Italy entered the War found themselves free. The problem still remained to find Simpson and Armstrong. Blon Kiernan, the Irish Ambassador’s daughter, had friends in the German Legation whom she visited regularly and she was often used as a source of information by O’Flaherty. She was able to advise that the Germans had been making enquiries at the Irish Legation about an Irishman named William O’Flynn and the Legation had replied, as was the case, that they knew nothing about him. Just then, through a cousin of one of his cellmates who was acting as the prison doctor, Simpson had managed to smuggle out information that he was in the prison and was using the name William O’Flynn. The organisation could not work out any way of being of assistance to him. Obviously no diplomatic intercession could be made now without confirming that he was a British officer with a false identity which would give the authorities every excuse for executing him as a spy.
As happened so often, something unusual turned up. O’Flaherty was at work in the Holy Office one morning when he was told a Roman nobleman wished to see him. The nobleman reminded O’Flaherty of the episode when he had rescued a girl by making her a temporary and informal member of the Swiss Guard in order to smuggle her to safety. There was some polite conversation as to how the girl had got on subsequently and O’Flaherty was pleased to hear that she was safe and well. However, the next comment surprised the Monsignor when the nobleman indicated that he had come seeking the Monsignor’s help on behalf of Pietro Koch, one of his mortal enemies. However, the nobleman was quick to emphasise that he was not seeking direct assistance for Koch, who realised what his fate would be when the Allies took over. The request was that the Monsignor would assist Koch’s wife and mother, in return for which Koch would ensure that all the Monsignor’s friends were left in Regina Coeli, instead of being transported to Germany. The Monsignor agreed to help but set down a condition that as evidence of good faith Koch would have to deliver safely the two British officers in Regina Coeli, Simpson and Armstrong. He undertook to make arrangements to assist the wife and mother if this was carried out. Sitting in his cell the next day, Simpson heard the name ‘Lieutenant Simpson’ called out but at this stage he did not know whether it was a trap or not; similarly with Armstrong, so neither responded to the call. This placed O’Flaherty in an exceptionally awkward position. When the nobleman returned and told him nobody had come forward he asked that Koch be informed that Simpson would be found under the name of O’Flynn but as regards Armstrong it was not known what alias he was using. Koch was given this message, but things were happening too quickly now, and so neither was released.
A fresh rumour – optimistic, this time – says insistently that the Pope has promised the Germans that, if they do no damage to the city as they withdraw, he will make himself responsible for all their wounded whom they might leave behind; reports as to the number of wounded vary between 20,000 and 40,000 … We are immensely cheered by the news, broadcast from Anzio, that the Allies are bringing to Rome foodstuffs of every kind except flour and oil … lack of food has had an alarming slimming effect on everyone in Rome, not only the poor, but on the man-in-the-street and one’s friends. It gives one a heartache to see it. No longer is it complimentary to allude the loss of weight; on the contrary, the subject is tactfully avoided.19
(Mother Mary St Luke, 31 May 1944)
It is said that last night the Pope sent for the German Ambassador, and kept him from 11.00 p. m. until 1.00 a. m. talking about the possibilities of not defending Rome, once the Allies had broken through their line in the Castelli and of not destroying the city as they withdrew. It is understood that the Pope was in a large measure successful.20
(Mother Mary St Luke, 2 June 1944)
The Allies are pouring into the plain that surrounds Rome like water through a dyke … Although many Germans left yesterday, at present the ho
tels near the station are crowded with them … All last night heavy vehicles, tanks and lorries rumbled through the street.21
(Mother Mary St Luke, 3 June 1944)
A British army advance party had reached the Pope’s villa at Castelgandolfo and had made radio contact with Derry. Liberation was only hours away. Amid a constant barrage of guns the Germans started to pull out. In the meantime, O’Flaherty, following his policy of always giving assistance to anyone in need, had begun to make arrangements for the safety of the wife and mother of Koch. They were to be taken to Naples and given shelter in a convent but they both refused this offer of assistance, deciding instead to try and make their own escape.
Of particular concern during those final days were the Russians. Of all those who had opposed them, the Germans reserved their most deep-seated hatred for the Russian army. There were in excess of 400 escaped Russian prisoners of war hidden in and around Rome by the organisation in late May 1944. The fear was that these were the people most at risk of lastminute reprisals by the Germans, if they were located. A student in the mother house of the Jesuit order, just beside St Peter’s, approached Fr Joy who he knew was a friend of O’Flaherty’s. Joy and O’Flaherty were both trained in the Jesuit Mungret College but Joy had not been involved in the escape organisation. His work in Rome was in a secretariat which had been devised to fight world Communism. The student explained to Fr Joy that, while those hidden in the Russian College were probably safe enough, those in the private accommodation could be at risk. Fr Joy immediately approached the Monsignor for help, whose response was, ‘Of course we must help them, Francis. Stay here for a moment.’22
O’Flaherty went across to Derry and explained the situation.
Have you got any cash about, me boy? I have a wee problem. We want to shift some Russians to make sure these Germans don’t get ’em, but the landladies want their money first!23
Derry immediately produced the equivalent of £400 in lire. ‘I hope Joe Stalin pays it back.’24 Immediately, the organisation swung into action on that first weekend in June and all the Russians who were in billets throughout the city were relocated as a precautionary measure.
Field Marshal Kesselring was one of Germany’s most talented military strategists. He had particular talents in deploying the troops available to him in a defensive position and then, when appropriate, conducting an orderly withdrawal. He realised from the outset that defending Italy south of Rome was something he could not sustain in the long term but he had persuaded Hitler that this was the right strategy to adopt. The objective was to make the Allies pay very dearly for every inch of ground they gained in Italy and indeed he proved to be very successful in the implementation of this policy. Falling back from that position, he could easily have made Rome a battleground, in such a way that the experiences of the city of Stalingrad might have been repeated. Hitler had sent orders to Kesselring at midnight on 3 June, ordering him to defend the city at all costs and to blow up the Tiber bridges. Mussolini had sent a message to Kesselring making the same request. However, it seems Kesselring had already decided to withdraw. All day on 3 June, while the Fascists were making preparation to clear out of the city, Kesselring continued to move men and material to the front to give the appearance of continuing the fight. He arranged for a large number of his senior officers to attend the opera that night. Von Weizsaecker, at his request, went to the Vatican at 10.30 p. m. to meet with Montini and Tardini. His message was that Kesselring wanted to save Rome and he was hoping that the Vatican would intercede with the Allies to hold off on their attack. Essentially, this was a ploy to create a safe corridor of retreat for the Germans, but the Vatican diplomats refused to play their part. In the meantime, circumstances within the prison were changing. Simpson and Dukate had been questioned endlessly during the month of May. The fact that they had nothing in their possession other than a small amount of cash was to their advantage and they realised how lucky they had been to have got rid of the incriminating items in their wallets. Dukate maintained he was Italian and his papers supported that. Simpson’s claim that he was Irish was reflected in his documents. However, his questioners clearly had an idea who he was. Eventually, they checked with the Irish Legation and asked if they knew of a Vatican employee called William O’Flynn. It was confirmed that there was such an employee, a priest, and he was currently in the Vatican. On 30 May, the prisoners were able to hear gunfire, distant but unmistakable, and they realised that the circumstances outside were altering radically. On that day also, a new squad of military police arrived to take over control of the prison and it was quickly realised that these were Austrians. The Germans were gone. Within a couple of days, the prison gates were open and hundreds were released. Derry’s careful accounts show that a considerable sum of money was spent on bribery during this period. That morning, Furman had called to Renzo Lucidi’s flat. They had arranged to meet to work out their accounts but he recalls that concentration was difficult.
History was being made at our very door; the importance of our additions and subtractions paled into insignificance. We sat up, startled, as the door bell sounded our old familiar signal; for the last month or more we had used a new ring. Could this be a trap, a last minute effort by the Gestapo or Koch’s gang? We waited tensely while Peppina opened the door. We heard a scream.25
In fact it was Simpson, who had walked to freedom from the prison.
As they left the prison, the Gestapo took with them fourteen prisoners of war as hostages. However, they swiftly concluded that minding those prisoners on the journey north was a handicap and they were unloaded near the Rome suburb of Lastorta and executed on 4 June. The bodies were discovered by local people and, after a funeral service, buried some days later. A remembrance service is held on that day each year at the site. A memorial has been erected containing the names of some of those executed. However, one plaque refers to ‘the unknown Englishman’. Research completed in March of 2007 fairly conclusively suggested this, in fact, is the grave of Captain Armstrong, whom O’Flaherty so nearly rescued. However, there are now suggestions that his name was not Armstrong but in fact he was a secret agent working under the code name ‘Gabriel’.
With admirable restraint, the Romans looked on, spectators of the reverse of what they had seen in September: the boot was on the other leg, the wheel had gone full circle, and the defeated Huns were escaping in disorder … The Germans went on, wild eyed, unshaven, unkempt, on foot, in stolen cars, in horse drawn vehicles, even in carts belonging to the street cleaning department. There was no attempt at military formation … Whereas last September they came with machine guns trained on the Romans, it was a different matter now. They were frightened. They had a clear idea of the strength of the underground movement, the power of the armed patriots and their determination to take action when and if necessary … A current report ran that the Germans had promised the Pope that they would not destroy anything in Rome if he would be personally responsible for the welfare of the wounded whom they might leave behind … By five o’clock in the afternoon the streets were almost empty of Germans; a few were still going along the Corso d’Italia … From one of our windows we looked down on Rome. The electric light which had been cut off was turned on abruptly, and un-curtained windows flashed out brightly like a signal of liberation to come. Then, as if on the stage, all was dark once more; except for the moonlight shining through a veil of mist. Suddenly, from the Porta Pia came a burst of wild cheering. The Allies had entered Rome … after that the whole town came to life. There was talk and laughter in all the streets, even in the narrowest ones; there was cheering and the sound of clapping everywhere.26
(Mother Mary St Luke, 4 June 1944)
Another observer of these events was the journalist de Wyss:
Finally, I saw the beaten German Army retreating. There were lorries and wagons so overloaded with soldiers that they all hung around in bunches; carts with soldiers, also soldiers on horseback, peasant vehicles crammed with dead-tired men … and
finally once soldiers passed by riding on oxen, endless rows of those going on foot. Their faces grey with fatigue, eyes popping out, mouths wide open, they limped, barefoot, dragging their rifles after them. I remember the same army entering France – contemptuous, almighty, trampling over the weaker. I remembered being thrown into a ditch by them. Now I was witnessing their defeat. My jaws clenched.27
The tumult and the shouting died about 1.00 a. m. and we scattered from our observation post. My own first sight of the Allies was dramatic in its simplicity. Opening a window at about six o’clock, I saw one little jeep with four American soldiers in it, making its way slowly and soundlessly along the street. No one else was about. The thing looked so solitary, yet so significant in the cool stillness of dawn. I had it all to myself for a few seconds. It was so small, yet so secure; a vignette on the page of history; a full stop at the end of the chapter of oppression and fear … The population of Rome seemed double what it had been; men who had been hiding for months – patriots, Italian soldiers, Allied prisoners of war who had escaped from their prison camps, young men of military age and persecuted Jews – were out and about. Bicycles appeared from their hiding places as if by magic.
Rome had not seen such animation and laughter since the beginning of the War.28
(Mother Mary St Luke, 5 June 1944)
Other individuals and groups had similar experiences. Harold Tittmann notes:
Early the next morning, June 5th, our entire family went to the spot in the nuns’ garden where I had been watching the Germans the previous day, and joyfully witnessed the passage of American vehicles heading north in the pursuit of Germans. A jeep stopped briefly below us, and we shouted welcoming words in English to its occupants. Obviously surprised, one of the soldiers asked us who we were. When he learned that we were Americans, he reached to the back of the vehicle, pulled out a carton of cigarettes, a box of Hershey bars and a copy of Time magazine which he proceeded to toss over the wall in our direction. This was our first, happy contact with American soldiers.29
The Vatican Pimpernel Page 18