Young, Brave and Beautiful

by Tania Szabô

  At Orchard Court and Wimpole Street the main emphasis was on her knowledge of the networks remaining in the area around Rouen and Le Havre all the way to Dieppe, and the intelligence she had gained from further north to the Belgian border. Although they were coded and brief in the extreme, her notes from France helped her recall details of what had happened to the network, names or codenames of people she had met and their groups, towns and villages she had visited, the rocket sites she had seen and numerous other often tiny facts and figures which helped SOE and the War Ministry to build an ever improving picture of that area of France by comparing her intelligence with that brought back by other agents. She would be back the following day and then on to FANY104 headquarters to report in.

  Throughout the questioning, her reporting remained logical, fulsome and accurate. At each debriefing, another minor detail would emerge sometimes proving important. Her own understanding of all she had seen and done took on greater depth and slowly she perceived the bigger and, at times, more political picture emerging. These days, though exhausting, gave her intriguing insights into the machinations of government and war. It proved to her that daring did win so she would continue to dare carefully, as she had done with such good results.

  Now Violette was free to relax until recalled for her next mission.

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  It was time to take a complete break. In her WTS uniform, Violette decided to go to Hereford and breathe some country air for a few days. She enjoyed staying at the Old Kennels with her aunt and uncle. She took her two younger cousins, John and Brenda, to the fair, where she lost a very pretty earring and left the remaining one at Aunt Florrie’s. In later years, Brenda took and treasured this earring as a fond reminder of that happy day. Violette went to pubs in the evening with Norman and helped Aunt Florrie with household chores. She spent a couple of afternoons with Uncle Henry grooming the dogs, survivors of the heartrending cull he had been required by law to make. On returning to London, she was much refreshed. The tired lines around her eyes had all but disappeared; she had put on a little weight and looked stunning in her dark uniform. She hardly wore the other clothes she had brought as she enjoyed being in uniform and the status it gave her.

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  Most of FANY’s personnel was absorbed into the ATS, formed as an auxiliary service of some 20,000 women during the Second World War. The women served in many different categories, including office duties, as mess and telephone orderlies, drivers, postal workers, butchers, bakers, ammunition inspectors, military police, gun crews and many other operational support tasks. FANYs provided most of the ATS Transport Section, called the WTS, to which Violette had been attached.

  She had, before joining SOE, worked at the Acton munitions factory, part of the Guinness Brewery sites and shifted over to military production, suffering frequent air raids from German bombers sweeping over London. At the factory she and her friends had had a couple of lucky escapes. When Charlie Bushell insisted she stop working there because it was too dangerous and upsetting to her mother, she joined the Land Army. After that spell of service, she joined the WTS on 11 September 1941 and was posted to Leicester after her initial training.

  Violette did not find the work terribly appealing but made up for that in the evenings at pubs, dancing with friends in dance halls and going to the cinema. It helped keep boredom at bay for a while. Her tasks and that of her colleagues were to cook, waitress, plus chores of laundering a mass of sheets and shirts and similar drudgery. She muttered to the other girls that there must be something more exciting to do. She served in an underground Telephone Exchange until she was considered too ill with bronchitis caught in those cold, damp basements. She had enjoyed it for a short period but was not sorry to leave.

  Why couldn’t she join the armed services? She was a great shot with a gun and she was sure she could shoot any German soldier straight between the eyes from a distance. In October 1941, the 481 Heavy (Mixed) Anti-Aircraft (ack-ack) Battery was formed. Violette joined it with a group of men and women from Leicester. Another young woman, Elsie Gundry, came with a group from a training camp in Guildford. They had all been previously kitted out with uniforms, sat three examinations and committed to serve three years in the artillery. Other groups came from camps all over the British Isles. These diverse young women met on the barrack square in Oswestry in Shropshire and were introduced to their officers and NCOs.

  The 481 Heavy (Mixed) Anti-Aircraft Battery was born – one of the first batteries to be set up to defend the British Isles from the airborne blitz.

  ‘Violette, everyone tells me you were a member of the Free French. Did you take part in wonderful and daring escapes from behind enemy lines?’ asked a wide-eyed Elsie one day. They were getting to know one another and enjoyed spending time in each other’s company with the others in the ack-ack, or the A-A as these anti-aircraft batteries were also known.

  ‘Good God, no! What on earth has got into the fools? I’m married to a Free French soldier, a French Foreign Legionnaire, that’s all. It’s him who’s won all the medals for outstanding bravery. He’s been all over the world, too, served a year or so in Indo-China, Tonkin, coming back to Europe in 1940.’

  ‘Oh, I’m so sorry. I hope I haven’t embarrassed you. I should have thought before opening my big mouth.’ Poor Elsie, who was a very gentle and loyal soul, turned bright pink.

  Violette replied, laughing, ‘Not a bit of it. I’m glad you asked. I’m so damned proud of him.’ She had also badgered her superiors to allow her to wear Étienne’s Free French flash on the shoulder of her battledress blouse. I recall Commander Minchin of the FANYs telling me how pleased Violette was to march with that flash! Violette was inordinately proud to be the wife of a Legionnaire, an NCO soon to be promoted into the officer class with an exciting future ahead for the two of them. Already well decorated, he had the scars to attest to his courage in battle. He opened up huge vistas of gallant war craft and dazzling chivalry in warm climes and sun-soaked living.

  Violette enjoyed being part of the 481 Heavy (Mixed) Ack-Ack Battery, which was her first real taste of taking on the enemy with a weapon. There was also much fun with the other girls leading their NCOs and officers a merry dance, escaping through a gap in fencing to go to movies at NAAFI in the off-bounds camp next door; shopping or eating a meal in town, all the while on the lookout for those that might report them.

  Violette and Elsie, plus four other girls, were detailed for fire piquet,105 reporting for an hour’s practice drill at six each morning. As Elsie and Violette had skipped camp a number of times after having been ordered not to, they were put on punishment duty cleaning windows with fire hoses that required two girls to handle them on full blast. Violette and Elsie worked happily enough, taking their time, laughing and chatting. At one window, Violette, holding the hosepipe to wash the windows, turned to say something to Elsie not realising the window was open. ‘What the bloody hell! You bloody nitwits!’ An orderly officer woke from his quiet snooze under a stream of freezing water from Violette’s hose.

  It seemed a good idea to vanish. Later, they were informed they had learned how to use the fire equipment and the team was changed!

  After four weeks’ training and parade ground drill, they were sent to Holyhead in Anglesey, North Wales, for gun practice. It was here that various talent competitions took place and Violette performed the Salomé dance in her blue striped pyjama trousers and a pink bra. At the end, after twisting and turning and swaying sexily to the music with a fine large handkerchief as a veil to cover her nose and mouth, her body sinuous as an Indian snake, she did a superb backward flip, only for her bra straps to snap in unison. Blushing deep crimson, she flew off the stage followed by gales of laughter and loud clapping. She had delighted the audience with her dancing. This was the icing on the cake for them – men and women alike!

  In December they set out to Frodsham, near Warrington in Cheshire, where Violette stayed until February 1942. She was trained as No. 5 and worked the telesc
ope following the angle of sight by elevating or depressing it. Elsie Gundry was trained as a No. 3 and followed the line of sight on the opposite telescope. The predictor then calculated the future position of the target to the guns by means of electric cables after the height, position, range and fuse had been fixed by other members of the team – complicated but totally absorbing and interesting. Lieutenant Colonel Jim Naylor, Violette’s commanding officer, described his Vickers Predictor operator as:

  tiny, very slim and very attractive. Because of her height, or lack of it, she seemed always to stand on her toes when at her instrument. She was popular and her officers and NCOs always spoke highly of her as a soldier and as a comrade. She and another girl held French classes in the evenings with excellent results. Whatever she did, she did it with one hundred percent enthusiasm. She was always the example and leading spirit.

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  On her return from Herefordshire, Violette attended a final debriefing visit to Baker Street with a suggestion of a new mission in the offing. She decided to take Tania to show off her daughter to her many friends and acquaintances. She had let out part of her flat to help pay the rent. Violette was always in need of an advance. Vera Atkins did not approve in the least and never refrained from warning her of the dangers of advances far exceeding monies due. Vera was naturally very thrifty while it was obvious that Violette really did not wish to understand such a concept.

  So Tania (me) went to Baker Street but hardly remembers it. I had been told the tale of the visit by my grandmother and was reminded of it by Yvonne Basedon, an SOE agent, in about 2005 when I visited her in London. Sadly, Yvonne did not like to recall such days – much of the war years have been tucked away in her mind and it distresses her somewhat to this day. One of Violette’s friends, Sonia d’Artois, married to Major Guy d’Artois and living in Canada, remembers carefree moments together with Violette and Nancy Wake. The Terrible Trio, I have no doubt!

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  103 Sacré bleu = literally ‘holy blue’, euphemism for sacré Dieu = ‘holy God’.

  104 FANY – First Aid Nursing Yeomanry – was incorporated in 1909 with an HQ in London. It was an unofficial auxiliary of upper-crust women volunteers set up to serve mounted troops, by driving vehicles and giving nursing care, in the main! FANY is today a standalone service of women from teens to retirement with ongoing training to meet any emergency in urban and rural areas on the British Isles and elsewhere in the world. It provides excellent training, lots of fun, discipline where needed and, these days, lack of stuffiness. Service could be lifesaving, involving travelling to disaster areas around the world and so on. www.fany.org.uk.

  105 Fire piquet = being on fire duty, stationed somewhere close. Two people are usually on duty and after midnight, the shift might be split. But, more likely than not, a mere two hours’ sleep were had. Duties might include peeling potatoes, known as ‘spud bashing’. The Piquet Commander was in the Guardroom.

  25

  Final Days of Waiting, Promotion, Preparation and a Night on

  the Town

  Friday 16 May to Wednesday 31 May 1944

  ‘Yours’

  ‘Yours till the stars lose their glory

  Yours till the birds fail to sing

  Yours to the end of life’s story’

  Xavier Cugat, 1939

  Everything seemed peaceful in London. The bombing had ceased and the buzz bombs106 did not start to fall for another few weeks. But there was so much destruction – so many deaths and injuries.

  Violette had been told plans were in progress for the next mission. She was itching to know more but did not press it – yet. Every day the heavily damaged areas of her beloved London increased Violette’s determination to get back into the fray. Sharp, indelible images burned into her mind, along with the fresh images of Rouen and Le Havre. She reflected on the deaths of Étienne and of so many friends and acquaintances. Apart from Étienne, her own family had so far escaped death and the terrors of war. Even her mother, Reine, was assured that her dear sister, Marguerite, and the rest of her family in Picardy were alive. But Violette had lost Étienne and her and Tania’s future with him. That still brought great rage to Violette’s heart. As her little girl grew, how would she react? Would she grow whole or forever hold the feeling of loss? A new father could help, of that she felt sure, if she ever decided to remarry. But the right man for the two of them might never appear.

  The overwhelming anguish had lost its sharpness since, almost three years ago, the arrival of the telegram in its brown envelope informing Violette of Étienne’s death. Often enough now she had fun with friends and colleagues, going to the pub, dining and dancing, inviting friends round to her Pembridge Villas flat. Her mission to France had been exciting and successful and her confidence grew. Life was sometimes happy and full of laughter although dulled by time, the ache had not vanished. The disappointment and shock of loss had seared her soul but her natural exuberance would not be denied. She was enjoying the company of men, like the Scandinavian agent, Eric, Harry Peulevé and even her father’s young friend, the second-hand car dealer Sidney Matthews, who had chased after her from well before the war, fallen for her and eventually had become a good friend. Violette found hitting the town, meeting friends, dancing to the big bands helped to heal the surface wound.

  She flirted a little from time to time; thought of love again – but where was the glow, the sheer sparkling happiness that there had been with Étienne? She closed her mind to such reflections; it was dangerous to unlock those doors. Instead she concentrated on fun, excitement, her daughter, her friends, her mother and brothers – and another mission.

  Violette went to Mill Hill to see Tania and spent a couple of nights there. It was a happy and fulfilling time for them all. She enjoyed visiting her friend Vera Maidment as well as being able to take Tania out for jaunts and up to London to do a little shopping for a few toys in Woolworth’s, where she had worked before the war. This was her penultimate visit to Mill Hill and she decided to take Tania back to Stockwell, where she would stay until Violette left on her new mission. She said she would see Vera on her return from duty and, paying her, thanked her for all her help.

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  One morning, in mid-May, without prior appointment, Violette arrived at Baker Street to see Vera Atkins.107 She was surprised by the warm smile and solicitude from this normally taciturn woman.

  ‘Well, my dear,’ started Vera, ‘how are you? You’re looking much refreshed and the colour is back in your cheeks.’

  There were files stacked in neat piles on a table under the dusty window, shelves full of box-files, books and ledgers, two filing cabinets securely locked. On Vera’s desk was a roll of small cards in alphabetical order, two telephones and a file marked ‘top secret’. Her chair was an ordinary one with a worn brown leather cover on the seat.

  Violette blushed with pleasure and said she was ‘raring to go’. And it was true; she felt a million dollars in her silk flowered dress from Paris, the sexy sandals and silk stockings. She felt a uniform was not needed on an informal visit.

  She explained to Vera that the reason she had popped by was to say how she was dying to get back to France and that it happened that Major Staunton had mentioned at the last meeting that something was in the offing with him and Bob Maloubier in central France. He had asked Violette if she would like to join them and of course she had jumped at the chance and wanted to know when and—

  Vera broke in by inviting Violette to a spot of lunch as she needed a couple of hour’s break from her dreary desk and a good lunch to restore her equilibrium. Violette happily accepted and Vera asked Aida, her assistant, if she would get Miss Taylor a decent coffee and a couple of magazines so she could wait comfortably for about fifteen minutes while Vera cleared her desk of the task in hand.

  Aida obliged with a smile, followed by a sharp about-turn to deal with the order. She was smartly dressed in her FANY uniform, tightly curled blond hair, not a stran
d out of place. No makeup, except a smudge of pink lipstick that suited her well.

  Violette thought she was very young, probably not more than eighteen, not realising the irony when she herself was still merely twenty-two. But Violette had seen so much of life whereas these girls, a few younger, many possibly five or ten years older than herself, came from good middle- and upper-middle-class families, still lived at home or had just started on the new rage of ‘sharing digs’ that their fathers paid for. They were light-years apart in the ways of the world if not the social graces. Violette only ever vaunted her hard-won knowledge and intuition in moments of high irritation, or necessary defence of herself or a companion.

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  Vera Atkins decided to give her a slap-up lunch at the Trocadero. Violette had eaten there before, having on occasion been invited by one of her brothers or some dashing officer. First they had a cocktail in the new and fashionable cocktail lounge, The Salted Almond. Then they went into the restaurant, where the waiters served their famous curry from the trolley. Violette loved it: the splendour of the venue, sumptuous à la carte menu and the pleasure of Vera’s company.

  Vera had a particular fondness for Violette for a variety of reasons. She found Violette’s sparkle and love of life unendingly engaging and respected Violette’s capacity to hunker down and work hard when, and only when, she was intrigued by a subject or project or mission to dangerous territories. Vera, along with those who trained her, were irritated to the extreme by Violette’s frivolous and irreverent attitude when the subject at hand bored her or was so obvious as to be puerile – in her opinion, of course.