by Allan Jones
Henri nodded gravely, looking at Gaspar, whose face was alive with wonderment, his eyes fixed on Amelia as she spoke. “But… none of this can be done without organisation. Training is the key; co-ordination of all our talents into one effort.” She looked into each of their rapt eyes, sipped more wine and judged that the time was right. “Now,” she said, “I have a proposition for you.” She had their full attention. “I came to France to get to Rennes; my work is there. Once there, I am to report to the regional commander of the organised resistance, a former colonel of your army, loyal to De Gaulle. He was trained for this task at the same place I was and has been back here for some time. The ports of this region are of high strategic importance as they hold the bases for the U-boats currently causing havoc in the Atlantic. It is our job to do something about that, and soon. Now, if you will help me get to Rennes, I will help you in return.”
Henri refilled their glasses. “Yes, we can certainly get you to Rennes.” His eyes narrowed as he looked at her intently. “So how can you help us?”
Amelia leaned forward, her elbows resting on the table, her hands warming her glass. “When I parachuted in, I brought guns, ammunition and explosives, plastic explosives, with me. There’s a radio transmitter to contact London! They were meant for the people who were to meet me, but as I didn’t get there I had no choice but to bury them. You can have all this, and, in addition, when I get to Rennes, I will get the colonel to send you someone to train you, bring you into the fold, as it were. After a while, when you’re good enough, you can be in business with the support of the entire Resistance network in this region. What do you say?”
The men looked at each other, then at Lucille, who nodded. “What can I say but yes!” Henri exclaimed. “Yes, of course! Gaspar, think of it! What we can do!”
Gaspar stood up and raised his glass. “A toast,” he cried, and they all stood expectantly. “To France, to the Resistance. Death to all Germans.”
They repeated the toast in unison and drained their glasses, their eyes shining in excitement. Amelia coolly sat down as Lucille went to fetch more wine; she knew she was in control and relished it. When their glasses were refilled, she spoke again. “I will draw you a rough map to where I buried the cache. You must go today before the Germans swamp the area. It is a long cylindrical canister, very heavy. You’ll need two more to lift it. Bring it back here and get it hidden. Be very thoughtful of where you will hide these things; remember, the Germans are thorough and experienced, they know the usual hiding places, so don’t use the obvious. Think further, use cunning, be sly. One thing I must stress, I insist that you do not, I repeat do not…use any of the goods until your contact arrives. You hide them, you forget about them till you can be trained; this is most important.”
She paused, looking sternly into each of their eyes. She turned to Lucille. “And, Madame, also inside the canister are two parachutes, silk parachutes. Do not be tempted to make underwear from them; the Germans are not averse to looking under a girl’s skirts, and it’s a sure giveaway. As soon as the canister is here, the parachutes must be burned and the ashes sifted for the harness buckles, which you must get rid of. Do you understand me?”
Lucille replied, “It is a terrible waste, but it will be as you say. I will take care of it myself, you may be sure.”
Amelia smiled at her. “We’ll have to make do with the old ‘apple-catchers’ till after the war!”
Lucille looked puzzled, so Amelia explained the joke and they all laughed, lightening the seriousness for a moment. “Henri, find me something I can draw on, then you’ll have to memorise what I draw. I can’t allow you to take it with you. Gaspar, have you ever used a pistol like that before?”
Gaspar looked at the gun on the table. “No, I haven’t,” he replied.
As Henri scurried around, Amelia showed Gaspar the workings of the gun. He listened attentively, then went through the motions of arming it and making it safe again with her. When she was satisfied, she gave it to him.
“Remember, only as a last resort, and don’t get caught with it. Leave the holster − it’s just another thing to get rid of − and if you do shoot, do it at close range and aim for the crotch: the recoil will jerk it up and you’ll hit the chest.” Gaspar nodded and put the pistol in his pocket, the silencer in another.
Henri joined them with drawing materials. Amelia slid her knife over to him. “I have a feeling you know how to use one of these.” She looked at him, one eyebrow raised in question.
Henri picked up the sheath and drew the knife and admired it, running his thumb over the sharp edges. “I was in the last war,” he said with finality, as he put the knife back in its sheath.
Amelia drew a map as best she could remember from the drop to where Gaspar had found her. Both men watched intently, till Henri gave a start and said to Gaspar, “But we know this place, it’s on Fouquard’s farm, do you see?”
Gaspar leant closer, then recognition dawned on him too. “Yes, you’re right, it is: the woods in his west fields. Don’t you have a real map?”
“Of course!” Henri exploded, and rushed from the room. They heard him scurrying around, banging and crashing, then he burst back into the kitchen again with his find.
He spread it out, and, by comparing it with Amelia’s drawing, they pinpointed the place at which she had landed. Pleased with themselves, they refolded the map and assured Amelia that they could easily find the place.
She got up solemnly and walked to the grate, where she turned and looked at them pointedly before setting light to her crude map. They watched it burn, getting her point. As the men busily got ready for the journey, Amelia flopped down into her chair, a wave of tiredness sweeping over her. She felt Lucille’s hands on her shoulders, kneading away the stiffness, then Lucille bent down, pecked her on the cheek, and whispered in her ear, “As soon as they are gone, it’s bed for you.”
Amelia reached up and took her hand as she watched as the men opened the door to leave. “You’ll get no argument from me,” she said.
The men waved goodbye and strode off purposefully. Lucille closed the door as Amelia heaved herself up from the chair; the wine had suddenly come over her, and she drank some water before following Lucille up the stairs.
She slipped off the robe and, once between the sheets, she unhooked her bra, removed the brooch and clasped it in her hand. She lay for a while thinking, wondering if she had done right, getting these people involved, and she felt a pang of guilt. Then her thoughts drifted to Paul, faraway in England, and a smile came to her face. It remained after she had slipped into a deep sleep.
A hand shook her awake. Forgetting where she was for a moment, she shrugged it off dreamily and nestled further into the pillows. “Please, it’s me, Lucille; the men are back, you must wake up now.”
Amelia reluctantly opened her eyes, turned on her back and raised herself on her elbows. Lucille’s form swam into her vision, silhouetted against the light streaming in through the door. “I’m sorry, I was fast asleep. I didn’t realise where I was for a moment. Is it OK? They are all right?”
“Yes, it went well; they saw no-one, no-one saw them, they say. They took Philippe and Andre with them, then dropped them off on the way back. They too are excited to meet you and will come tomorrow; they are good boys, you’ll see. Come, you must get dressed; they are in the barn waiting for you, and they grow impatient.”
Amelia was in the barn in minutes. They were in the back of the truck, the canister on the floor amongst a few remaining logs. Other logs had been thrown unceremoniously from the truck and were scattered around. She took Henri’s hand and he heaved her up to join them. Gaspar held the lantern closer so that she was more easily able to open the canister.
Henri whistled appreciatively as he regarded the contents. Amelia showed one of each item, allowing them to handle the plastique, the sten guns and the pistols. She showed them the fuses and detonators, giving a brief explanation of how best to use them. She had them place each item ca
refully on the floor before delving once more into her “treasure chest”. She hauled out the parachutes and threw them off the back of the truck. Lucille caught them and ruefully felt the luxuriant fabric, holding it to her cheek. Amelia shot her a look, as Lucille murmured, “I know, they are to be burnt; it is a great pity, but there it is.”
Amelia reached in and produced a leather pouch and tossed it to Henri. “This is for you; well, most of it anyway.” Henri opened the pouch: it was money, a great deal of money. “I’ll need some to go on with; the rest is yours. Brigandry costs, you know.”
Henri showed it to Gaspar, who whistled softly. “We’ll put it to good use, you can be sure of that,” he said.
Amelia nodded and reached into the canister once more, retrieving a large and battered suitcase which she handed to Lucille. “Hand me back one of the parachutes,” she told Lucille.
She carefully wiped each item that was to go back in the canister, leaving out another pistol for Henri and a total of eight magazines of ammunition. She sealed the canister, rubbed it all over with the parachute silk and told the men to cover it up for now and then join her back in the kitchen. Lucille busied herself with her task of burning the parachutes, under Amelia’s watchful eye. Amelia had placed her case on the table and awaited the men. Once they were all present, she opened the case: it was a radio transmitter.
“I’m afraid I have more work for you tonight, gentlemen,” she said.
“Anything you want,” Gaspar said, looking at Henri, who nodded his agreement.
“You must take me, on foot, far away from here, close to a town, or a couple of villages, but still remote; somewhere high up. Then you can help me set up the aerial for the radio and stand guard while I send a signal to London. I will be quick, then we pack it up as quickly as we can and get the hell out of the area. The Germans have very, very good signal-detection systems and they could be on to us very quick, if we’re unlucky. That’s why we have to be near a large population: when they detect the signal they will assume that the perpetrators come from the nearest town or village, so they’ll tear it apart looking for this.”
She touched the case. “On the way back we hide it; remember where it is, but do not ever, on any account, try to use it: they’ll be on you before you know it; and anyway, who could you call? You have no knowledge of codes or even how to transmit, and I’m certainly not going to show you. You leave it where it is until whoever I send to you asks for it, understand?” They nodded their agreement with serious faces.
Henri turned to Lucille. “She must eat before we go,” he said.
“You must, you mean! All you think of is your stomach,” she replied tartly, as she shoved the last of the second parachute into the roaring grate.
“There is that,” Henri admitted, and crossed the kitchen to give her a playful slap on her bottom. Lucille yelped and shooed him away.
“I will have to take some time to code the message. I’m not very good at it really. Perhaps, Gaspar, you will show Henri all about the pistol, as I showed you?” said Amelia.
Gaspar and Henri busied themselves like delighted schoolboys with the guns. Lucille placed bread, cheese and wine on the table, remarking to Amelia, “Look at them, like little boys with new toys.”
Amelia looked over at them and smiled, sharing the joke, then looked up at Lucille and said, “Very dangerous toys.”
She bent to her task. She would be using her emergency “one time only” code, which would be safe; but nevertheless, the message had to be brief. It took her half an hour and, when she had finished, she asked for matches or a lighter to take with her so that the message could be destroyed as soon as it was sent. After they had eaten, they studied Henri’s map and determined the route to a suitable site. Amelia took a minute to find the map reference of the farm and scribbled the figures onto the message. She borrowed back the knife she had given Henri and strapped it to her ankle; the men had a gun each, with silencers. Their faces were grim as, in turn, they hugged Lucille and waited by the door, Henri carrying the bulky radio. Amelia hugged Lucille in turn. “We should be back before dawn. Don’t worry too much, eh?” she said.
“I’ve given up worrying about them; it’s you I fear for.”
Amelia smiled at her. “I’ll be fine, I’m in good hands.” She released Lucille and followed the men out into the night.
CHAPTER 10
Paul was walking in the park, back to the house in the grounds of the estate where he had his billet. His mood was dark. He had become sullen, morose and quick-tempered since she had disappeared and kept pretty much to himself, the gnawing fear in his gut his constant companion. His eyes were at his feet as he walked and so he failed to notice Pru Perkins, who was waving to him from the door of the house. She put two fingers in her mouth and gave a shrill whistle to get his attention and, when he looked up, waved frantically at him. He broke into a run and was soon by her side.
“What is it, Pru? Tell me quick!” he entreated her, his senses reeling at the prospect of bad news.
“She’s safe,” Pru said.
Relief washed over Paul as he let out his breath. “How? Where is she? Tell me!” he gasped.
“I’m trying to, you dope! Now listen! She found help, the clever girl, and she’s on her way to her original mission. She sent a signal late last night. I got to hear of it first thing and I’ve been trying to find you ever since. Look, here it is.” She handed a flimsy piece of paper to him and he read it urgently.
It said:
“Safe friendlies map ref no [figures omitted] proceeding mission inform originals re-supply tell nimrod it’s working.”
Paul read it over and over, a smile growing on his lips, and he looked up at Pru, who was beaming at him. “A smile at last! Isn’t it great! See, I told you she’d be all right, didn’t I?”
Paul leant over and planted a kiss on her cheek. “Yes, you did! Thanks, Pru, you’re an angel.”
Pru blushed, and to cover it she asked: “What’s the last bit about? No-one can make head nor tail of it. Private, is it?”
Paul laughed softly. “I gave her my mother’s brooch, told her it was magic, would keep her safe.”
“And she’s thinking of you,” Pru pointed out. “Oh, Paul, I’m so happy for you.”
She threw her arms about his shoulders and hugged him. He stood rigid for a second, then enthusiastically returned the hug. Then, before he knew what was happening, Pru was looking up at him, her lips parted, desire in her eyes. He returned her gaze, unsure of what she was reading in his; it felt good to hold someone like this again. She slowly moved her lips closer to kiss him, then she thought better of it and she looked down quickly, and gently pushed herself away from him.
“Careful, Tiger, you could turn a girl’s head with those baby blue eyes of yours,” she said, to cover her embarrassment, turning her head away.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…,” he said gallantly.
She interrupted him. “It’s OK; as much my fault as yours, forget it.”
“No, really, you’re a lovely girl, Pru, but…” He let the words fade away.
“I know, I know! It was stupid, didn’t mean anything. C’mon, forget it, no harm done,” she blustered.
“I like you, Pru, I really do,” he said urgently.
“Shut up, for fuck’s sake, will you!” Pru exploded.
“Sorry, sorry,” he said weakly.
There was an embarrassed silence till Pru spoke. “How do you fancy getting shit-faced drunk? Come on, let’s drink to her. What do you say?” Paul looked at her in surprise. “No strings,” she added quickly, “just two mates on the razzle. Tell you what, I’ll buy the first round, and the next, and the next! Come on, it’ll do you good: you’ve been a miserable bastard of late.”
Paul read her eyes once more, savouring her message to him, then smiled broadly. “Miserable bastard, eh! Well, not anymore!” he said, waving the paper in the air. “You’re bloody well on; last one standing pays for all of it!” he shou
ted.
“And first one to fall has to roll naked in a cow-pat!” Pru cried.
Paul laughed. “You’re disgusting!”
Pru giggled. “I know.”
He took her hand and they trotted off, laughing, to the bar.
* * * *
Amelia stayed on the farm for two more days. She met Philippe and Andre, the other members of Henri’s group. They were younger than the others and were keen to learn all she could teach them. She supervised the hiding of the canister, and for the rest of the time lectured them relentlessly, passing on every gem of knowledge she knew. She exhorted them to avoid any overt action against the enemy, and concentrate on the necessity for secrecy and covert action, if there was to be any at all.
By the morning of the third day, she was satisfied that she had done all that she could do; they had the makings of an effective resistance cell, they just needed direction and good leadership. Gaspar was to take her in his truck, which was loaded with wood and farm produce which he was to sell before coming back. He would have no problems there as everything was in short supply: the townspeople would snap up anything they could get their hands on.
They were all there to see her off, and she hugged each man in turn, treating each to a kiss on the cheek. Then she turned to Lucille, whose eyes glistened with tears. She hugged and kissed her in turn and took the opportunity to whisper in her ear. “Don’t let them do anything stupid, Lucille. You’re the brains round here; lead them till help arrives.”
Lucille held her off and said, “I will. You take great care now. Come back to us whenever you can; you’re always welcome.”
Amelia turned to speak to all of them. “Thank you all, from the bottom of my heart. I was lost, you found me, and you’ve all been great. Wait patiently; someone will come, if not from Rennes, then from England. I told them in my signal about you. It may take some time, but someone will come, believe me, and when they do, you’ll be ready to go at the Germans in no time. One more thing! France doesn’t want you to die for her. She wants you to live for her, survive for her; you are France! She wants you to destroy her enemies and, to do that, you need to be alive! Remember that always, and take care. Good luck, all of you.”