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  The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong at the broken places.

  —ERNEST HEMINGWAY

  For my high school guidance counselor, Barbara Damron, who made all the difference.

  CONTENTS

  Map

  Dramatis Personae

  Preface

  Prologue

  CHAPTER 1. Duty

  CHAPTER 2. Jinxed

  CHAPTER 3. Mission to Marseille

  CHAPTER 4. The Briefcase

  CHAPTER 5. Control

  CHAPTER 6. The Kiss

  CHAPTER 7. Pearl of the French Alps

  CHAPTER 8. Grand Duke

  CHAPTER 9. Lifeless

  CHAPTER 10. The Beam

  CHAPTER 11. They Will Send for You

  CHAPTER 12. Tick, Tick

  CHAPTER 13. The Black Hollow

  CHAPTER 14. Viennese Waltzes

  CHAPTER 15. All My Love

  CHAPTER 16. Lily of the Valley

  CHAPTER 17. The Bunker

  CHAPTER 18. The Slaughter

  CHAPTER 19. Still Warm

  CHAPTER 20. Pierre

  CHAPTER 21. Hunting the Hunter

  CHAPTER 22. Fanning the Damned

  CHAPTER 23. Completing the Loop

  Epilogue

  Appendix: The SOE Official History Affair

  Author’s Note

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Notes

  Bibliography

  Index

  ERIC GABA/NGDC WORLD DATA BANK II

  DRAMATIS PERSONAE

  SPINDLE Circuit (Special Operations Executive, or SOE)

  Marie-Lou Blanc (field name, Suzanne)—local operative

  Lieutenant Francis Cammaerts (Roger)—head of JOCKEY circuit, replacing SPINDLE circuit

  Captain Peter Churchill (Michel, Raoul)—head of SPINDLE circuit

  Jean and Simone Cottet (Jean and Simone)—operators of Hôtel de la Poste

  Jacques Latour (Jacques)—local operative, courier

  Baron Henri de Malval (Antoine)—local operative, owner of HQ Villa Isabelle

  Adolphe (“Alec”) Rabinovitch (Arnaud)—radio operator

  Odette Sansom (Lise)—courier

  CARTE Circuit (French Resistance)

  Roger Bardet (Chaillan)—Major Frager’s lieutenant and courier, also of DONKEYMAN circuit

  Louis le Belge (Le Belge)—courier

  Major Henri Frager (Paul, Louba)—André Girard’s lieutenant; later, chief of DONKEYMAN circuit after termination of CARTE circuit

  André Girard (Carte)—head of CARTE circuit

  Lejeune (Lejeune)—local operative

  André Marsac (End, Marsac)—Marseille chief, Frager’s deputy

  Jacques Riquet (Riquet)—courier

  Suzanne (Lucienne)—Marsac’s secretary, courier

  British Special Operations Executive (SOE), French Section

  Vera Atkins—assistant to Maurice Buckmaster; intelligence officer

  Major/Colonel Maurice Buckmaster—F Section head

  Captain Selwyn Jepson—F Section recruiting officer

  Pierre de Vomécourt (Lucas)—agent

  British Intelligence

  Secret Intelligence Service (MI6)

  German Intelligence

  Abwehr (Military Intelligence Service)

  Sergeant Hugo Bleicher (Monsieur Jean, Colonel Henri)—field security policeman working under supervision of the Abwehr

  Major Hans Josef Kieffer—Paris chief of Sicherheitsdienst

  Colonel Oscar Reile—Abwehr III F Paris chief (Hugo Bleicher’s supervisor)

  Sicherheitsdienst (SD)—Nazi Party intelligence

  Others

  Gestapo (Nazi Secret Police)

  Jean Lucien Keiffer (Kiki, Desiré)—agent for INTERALLIÉ and DONKEYMAN circuits

  Father Paul Steinert—chaplain, Fresnes Prison

  Fritz Sühren—commandant of Ravensbrück concentration camp

  Trude—female guard at Fresnes Prison

  PREFACE

  “Be regular and orderly in your life,” Flaubert had said, “that you may be violent and original in your work.” Such is the prescription for spies. Odette Sansom didn’t drink, smoke, or swear, and to the casual observer she was quite ordinary, perhaps even boring. Yet she was a trained killer. She feared neither danger nor dagger, interrogation nor torture. She didn’t think twice about confronting German generals or commandants, and often placed principle before prudence.

  Like her colleagues in the Special Operations Executive, she signed up for the war knowing that arrest (and execution) was a very real possibility—almost one in two for F Section couriers. But what her grandfather had told her as a child was set in stone: she was to do her duty when the time came.

  And so she did.

  * * *

  WHEN I FINISHED WRITING Into the Lion’s Mouth in 2015, I was a bit saddened because I was certain I’d never find a more thrilling story than Dusko Popov’s. In my opinion, he was World War II’s greatest spy, and perhaps the greatest spy in history. After all, he had more actual sub-agents (eight), was involved in more operations (ten), and accomplished more (Pearl Harbor warning, MIDAS, D-Day deception, Yugoslav escape line, discovery of German agent CICERO, and the Monty ruse of Operation Copperhead) than any other agent.

  Yet I had to find material for another book.

  For months on end I scoured the UK National Archives and my World War II resources and came up empty. I looked closely at other British double agents of the war to see if there was enough material for a book. GARBO (Juan Pujol) was out because several books had already been written about him. I considered double agent BRUTUS (Roman Garby-Czerniawski), organizer of the INTERALLIÉ circuit, as he was a compelling figure and at one point had a circuit of a hundred agents. For months I dug into his story, which led me to German secret police sergeant Hugo Bleicher. I was fascinated by Hugo’s penetration of INTERALLIÉ, and how he single-handedly destroyed it. When I read Hugo’s memoir, Colonel Henri’s Story, I noticed that he detailed penetration of another circuit, one involving an Allied spy named “Lise.”

  The more I read, the more excited I became. This could be it, I thought.

  I followed my normal research procedure: order everything on the subject written in English, starting with the primary sources. In this case, that meant reading Jerrard Tickell’s authorized biography, Odette (1949); Peter Churchill’s three-volume memoirs—Of Their Own Choice (1952), Duel of Wits (1953), and The Spirit in the Cage (1954); Hugo Bleicher’s Colonel Henri’s Story (1954); Maurice Buckmaster’s They Fought Alone (1958); all of the SOE files on Odette, Peter, and Hugo in the UK National Archives; and Odette’s personal interviews with the Imperial War Museum in 1986.

  I was not disappointed. This story, I realized, had more chills and thrills than even Popov’s adventure, and was perfect for my nonfiction thriller style. But there was a bonus: a love story. It was almost too good to be true.

  How is it possible that almost no one knows of this woman? I asked myself. After all, there had been a movie about her in 1950, Odette, which had been released to great fanfare in England and the U.S. As I continued to dig, I found another shocking fact: Odette was not only the most highly decorated woman of World War II, she was the
most highly decorated spy—male or female.

  I had to tell her story.

  Fortunately, because I had so much material from primary sources, I could re-create each scene from the eyewitness account of one of the principal players, and often from accounts of two or three. With the exception of about four lines, every quotation of dialogue in the book is verbatim from primary sources. In Odette’s SOE files in the UK National Archives, for example, she often recites to her debriefing officer exactly what was said at the time. In the lines of exception, I rendered into a quote what was recorded in narrative for ease of reading.

  So, in case you are wondering, every line of this book is true, and you can check the notes if you wish to review the source material. In many scenes, of course, I construed emotions (i.e., “Marsac stirred,” “Odette shivered,” “Peter paused”) simply from knowing details of what occurred, and applying the natural reactions anyone would have.

  My hope is that you find this work violent and original.

  Larry Loftis

  August 6, 2018

  PROLOGUE

  Shortly after ten the mist began to dissipate, leaving them partially exposed.

  If it didn’t come soon, someone might notice the four mounds that had not been there two hours ago. It was bitterly cold—in the low teens—but Odette remained still, shivering in her wool skirt.

  Finally, they heard it. Everyone hustled into position and watched as Peter flashed the code.

  Nothing back. Peter flashed again. Still nothing. The plane passed directly overhead at eight hundred feet and then vanished.

  Peter scooted across the field and crept up beside her.

  “I simply don’t understand it,” he said behind clouded breath. “He must have seen the signal.”

  Something wasn’t right, Odette knew. It was mission feel, to be sure—the fox catching a scent it remembered as danger: men loitering around the buildings that afternoon . . . no airport activity . . . the plane ignoring their signal. The eerie mist didn’t help, either.

  Peter told her to stay low and crept to the end of the L formation. “Keep an eye on those buildings,” he told Jacques. “I have a feeling we’re in for an unwelcome interruption from that quarter.”

  Moving up the line, he ducked down beside Paul. “There’s someone coming!” he whispered. “Lie flat on the ground.”

  Across the field, Odette could see the danger: two figures—guards?—emerging from the direction of the control tower. They were headed directly toward Peter and Paul.

  Ten yards.

  Approaching the two mounds.

  Five yards.

  Odette gaped, pupils wide. Were the guards going to step on them?

  The two figures kept walking, apparently just in front of Peter and Paul. When they were out of sight, Peter came back.

  “I thought they were going to walk slap into you,” Odette said. “I can’t think how they missed you.”

  Peter cast his gaze across the field and hangars. “The plane ought to be back at any moment. If there’s any danger from those buildings I shall wave my torch sideways and Jacques will come over to you and you’re both to beat it over the bridge. Paul and I will make a separate retreat; better to be in two groups.”

  “Listen!” Odette uttered. The plane was returning. If it recognized Peter’s code with the countersign, they’d turn on their lights to illuminate the landing field. If it didn’t, it was German.

  Peter moved back to position and Odette kept her eyes peeled. All was silent around the buildings as the drone of the aircraft grew louder.

  A flash swept suddenly over the horizon and Odette froze. It was not Peter’s.

  It was a trap!

  Some three hundred yards away—directly in line with the aircraft’s flight—an Aldis lamp was flashing Morse to the tower. Barrack lights snapped on and someone shouted: “Put out those lights, you imbeciles! Wait for the plane to land and we’ll grab them all.”

  Odette saw Peter’s flashlight wave and then watched as he and Paul began racing across the field. The aircraft followed them, diving down on their heads at just six feet and then rising and disappearing.

  Odette turned to take off, but she could hear the plane returning. Would it let loose its guns, dropping Peter and Paul like pins?

  Just then, Jacques ran up.

  “You make for the right,” Odette called out, “and I’ll meet you on the back road to Périgueux.”

  The Germans would expect the saboteurs to head for the only cover, but separating the posse might add confusion. Jacques tore off and Odette started to run when she heard a terrifying sound.

  Turning back she saw him: an unleashed German Shepherd sniffing the area she had just left. The dog caught her scent, barked again, and was off.

  Odette sprinted for the trees, adrenaline raging, but the ground was uneven and she fell. He was closing the gap, she knew. She scrambled up and dashed on.

  Behind her she could hear him, the barking closer.

  He would be on her in seconds.

  She broke through the tree line and pushed ahead, stumbling in the darkness. It couldn’t be much farther.

  There was a crash as the dog lunged into the thicket where she had crossed.

  Faster! Faster! She had to keep moving.

  The Shepherd closed, growling and thrashing through the underbrush.

  It was the only way.

  She plunged in.

  CHAPTER 1

  DUTY

  Spring 1942

  London

  Major Guthrie looked again at the photographs. The teenaged girl was tall and skinny, a bushel of thick brown hair clinging to her head like a dried-out mop. She couldn’t have been more than sixteen or seventeen, but the shots appeared to have been taken ten, maybe twelve years ago. And there was something about the eyes—dark, determined . . . defiant.

  If his instincts were right, this was a girl who would throw herself headlong into danger.

  He wrote the letter.

  * * *

  BORN APRIL 28, 1912, Odette Marie Céline was the first child of Yvonne and Gaston Brailly, a banker in Amiens, France. A year later, the couple would have their second child, Louis. When World War I broke out in 1914, Gaston joined the Infantry Regiment and was soon fighting the Germans and mustard gas in the trenches of the Western Front. Brave and courageous, Gaston was promoted to sergeant and decorated with the Croix de Guerre and Médaille Militaire.

  He survived the Battle of Verdun, one of the bloodiest conflicts in history, but two men from his platoon had gone missing. Gaston returned to the battlefield to find them and did—both alive but seriously wounded. Before he could summon help, however, a mortar round hit their position, killing them instantly.

  Odette and Louis would never know their father, but his legacy lived on through their paternal grandparents; Gaston had been their only child. Every Sunday afternoon they would take Odette and her brother to place flowers on Gaston’s grave at La Madeleine. “In twenty or twenty-five years’ time, there is going to be another war,” Grandfather would say, “and it will be your duty, both of you, to do as well as your father did.”

  Odette would never forget these words.

  * * *

  YVONNE BRAILLY HAD TROUBLE enough as a single parent, but further difficulty arose with a turn in Odette’s health. Always a sickly child, she contracted polio at the age of seven, leaving her paralyzed for more than a year. Worse, just before she turned eight the disease stole her sight. Over the next three years Yvonne took Odette to every specialist and medical expert she could find, but to no avail; Odette would have to struggle through life in complete darkness.

  Lest Odette despair or feel sorry for herself, her grandfather encouraged her not to use blindness or pain as an excuse or handicap, but to be as clever as possible; there were many things she could do, and she should focus on those. Odette heeded the instruction and, as Hemingway put it, became strong in the broken places.

  She couldn’t see, but
she could hear, and soon her thoughts were captivated by Beethoven, Chopin, and Mozart. In piano and strings and waltzes, Odette would lose herself. Her blindness, it seemed, had opened a light of felicity previously unknown.

  Yvonne Brailly, though, would not give up on Odette’s sight. She took her to see an herbalist—a witch doctor if you asked the medical community. The man was old, unkempt, and surprisingly dirty for a health practitioner. But Yvonne had exhausted all other options so the risk from a little herbal magic seemed negligible.

  The man examined Odette and gave Yvonne a solution to bathe the child’s eyes. When Odette begins to see again, he said, gradually expose her to light. Yvonne followed the treatment and two weeks later Odette’s vision started to return. They continued the application and after two years Odette’s sight was fully restored.

  A miracle, it seemed.

  But no sooner than that malady had been beaten, Odette was struck with another: rheumatic fever. She spent a summer mostly in bed and the disease dissipated, but not before leaving her weak and partially paralyzed.

  Yvonne was at her wit’s end. What her daughter needed was the strong air of Normandy, she felt. With Louis enrolled in the lycée in Amiens, Yvonne moved with Odette to St. Saēns, a small village some twenty miles inland from Dieppe, and from there farther east to the coastal city of Boulogne. Odette was enrolled in a local convent and when Louis visited for holidays, the siblings would spend hours walking the coast and marveling at the arriving ships, especially those with sailors of the strange English accent.

  When Odette graduated high school, the nuns sent Yvonne a final report. Odette was intelligent and principled, they said, but possessed a volatile and petulant streak.

  It would prove useful in due time.

  Fascinated with the neighbors across the Channel, Odette determined to marry an Englishman and soon after her eighteenth birthday her wish came true: she met Roy Sansom, a Briton who was the son of an old family friend. They married a year later, in 1930, and lived in Boulogne. Their first child, Francoise, was born in 1932, and shortly thereafter the couple moved to London, where they had two more girls: Lily in 1934, Marianne in 1936.