by CW Browning
Evelyn looked up at the soft knock on the door. Josephine had ensured that she and Jens had eaten before showing her upstairs to a small room in the eaves of the old, sprawling farmhouse. The room had a bed and a nightstand, and was graced with the smallest window she had ever seen, but it was clean and warm and Evelyn was very grateful to have it to herself. Jens, she knew, was sleeping in the same room as Luc tonight. At least she had her own space to call her own.
“Enter!” she called, lifting her nightgown out of her suitcase.
Josephine came in, ducking under the low doorframe and looking around.
“I came to make sure you have everything you need,” she said with a smile, closing the door behind her and crossing over to the bed. She dropped down next to the open suitcase and glanced inside cursorily. “Have you got everything?”
“Yes, thank you.” Evelyn set the night dress on the bed and closed the case, latching it again. “I appreciate your letting us stay for the night. I don’t know how much further Jens could have gone, and he was adamant that I not drive. I think he’s afraid that I might be a terrible driver.”
“And are you?”
“No.”
Josephine laughed. “I don’t imagine you would be,” she said, watching as Evelyn lifted the case off the bed and set it next to the wall under the small window. “I think you probably excel at anything you put your mind to. Are you really on your way to Paris?”
“Yes. Jens wants to make sure I make it back safely.”
“Oh I know that’s where he thinks you’re going, but is it really?”
Evelyn chuckled and turned back to the bed, her eyes meeting Josephine’s. “Briefly. I’ll be taking a train to Calais.”
The other woman nodded and leaned back against the headboard, making herself comfortable.
“I thought so. How is Bill these days? I haven’t heard from him since you came to see me in Metz.”
“He’s fine, I believe. Rather tired, but that’s to be expected, I suppose.”
“We all are these days.” Josephine shrugged prosaically. “It’s just how it is.”
“But what are you doing here?” Evelyn asked, sitting on the foot of the bed and stretching out on her side facing her friend. “Why aren’t you still in Metz?”
“We’ve been going back and forth over the border to Belgium, gathering information. I was sent here last month, shortly after I saw you in Metz. Marc was already here, and we pulled in the others over the course of the past month.” Josephine’s lips twisted. “I go where I’m told, my dear, even when it’s an old, drafty farmhouse in the middle of nowhere.”
“Where are the farmers?”
“Do you know, I have no idea? I think they’ve probably been given a generous allowance in exchange for the use of their property, but I’m not really sure. It’s very convenient to the border, and the house is far enough away from the road that we come and go without drawing any notice.” She laughed suddenly. “Not that there is anyone for miles who would notice. That’s me. Now tell me about you. What were you doing in Brussels?”
“The same thing you’re doing here, I imagine,” Evelyn said with a smile.
“Bad timing with the invasion. Was it very bad there?”
“I imagine it could have been much worse. The main problem was everyone trying to get out of the city at the same time. A building on the same street as my hotel had a bomb dropped on it, and on the way here there were several large formations of bombers flying overhead. But it was the amount of people fleeing the cities that really caused the most problems.”
“I can’t blame them for leaving,” Josephine said slowly. “It’s already bad. Fort Eben-Emael is already in danger of falling. Marc heard it on the wireless tonight.”
Evelyn stared at her, aghast. “What? Already?”
“Yes. The Germans landed paratroopers on the roof. It’s the most heavily fortified fort in the Maginot Line. Once they’re inside, it’s simply a matter of holding it until their reinforcements arrive. Do you have a cigarette?”
Evelyn nodded and got up, feeling numb. “If that falls, Holland is all but lost,” she said, going over to her purse laying on the nightstand. “Any word on where they are in Belgium? We couldn’t find out anything while we were driving. They knocked out the radio towers first thing, so there’s no news right now anywhere in Belgium.”
“The last we heard, they were bombing Brussels pretty heavily, along with Antwerp. In Holland, Rotterdam is getting the brunt of it. Our armies are moving into Belgium to meet them head-on.” Josephine took the cigarette Evelyn handed her with a smile of thanks. “Marc thinks that’s a mistake.”
“Oh?” Evelyn lit a cigarette and passed Josephine the lighter. “Why is that?”
“He thinks that it’s all too easy. He thinks it’s a mistake to send all our best troops into Belgium and not spread them along the Maginot.” Josephine lit her cigarette. “I think he’s being overly cautious. Hitler is attacking where the Maginot Line is the weakest, just as General Gamelin predicted.”
Evelyn was quiet for a moment, then she turned to walk over to the window and push it open.
“And you have faith in General Gamelin?” she asked, turning her head to look at her.
“Well, he’s generally regarded as one of the most brilliant military minds,” Josephine said with a shrug. “That must count for something.”
“And yet he makes his headquarters in a castle with no radio or telephone lines. He’s completely cut off from his men and the world.” Evelyn returned her gaze to the window, blowing smoke outside. “I’ve heard that he uses carrier pigeons to send messages to his commanders.”
“Marc deplores the same thing. He says he is trying to fight with tactics from the last war that are outdated and useless against the technology and speed of Hitler’s armies.”
“And what do you say?”
“I think that you both have valid arguments, but it does us no good to debate what we can’t change. Gamelin is our commander, and he is in charge. He’s sending our troops, and yours, into Belgium as we speak.”
Evelyn nodded and turned away from the window with a sigh. “Hopefully he’s right and we can stop Hitler in Belgium.”
Josephine was quiet for a moment, then she looked up at Evelyn, watching her pace around the small room.
“Who is Jens?” she asked suddenly. “Is he one of your people?”
“No. He works for the Belgian State Security. Or at least he did until this morning. If the Germans are successful, he won’t have a job to go back to.”
“How did you meet him?”
“In a market in Brussels. We went to dinner. He’s a radio operator.”
“And now he’s taking you to Paris?”
Evelyn nodded and walked over to put her cigarette out on the window sill before tossing it out the window.
“It’s strange, really. He showed up at the hotel this morning in the middle of all the chaos and offered to do what he could to help get me back to France.”
Josephine got up and went over the window to discard her cigarette butt. “What’s strange about that? I think it’s wonderful that he helped. How else would you have made it out again? We heard the Luftwaffe was bombing the railway lines. If you’d been able to get a train to Paris, it wouldn’t have been safe.”
“Yes I know, but something bothers me about the whole thing.” Evelyn frowned thoughtfully. “I can’t help but feel that there’s something else, some other reason he wants to get to Paris.”
Josephine raised her eyebrow. “Such as?” she prompted when Evelyn didn’t continue.
“That’s just it. I have no idea. It’s just a feeling I have. Every once in a while I catch a look on his face, almost as if he’s worried about something.”
“Well of course he’s worried! His country is being invaded by Nazis and he just barely got away in time.” Josephine went back over to the bed and threw herself across the foot, her eyes on Evelyn’s face. “You really think someth
ing else is going on?” she asked after a moment of silence.
Evelyn nodded. “I know it sounds like I’m being paranoid, but there’s something. I’m sure of it.”
Josephine nodded slowly. “All right. Then we’ll find out what it is.”
Evelyn looked at her in surprise. “What?”
The other woman shrugged. “If your instincts tell you there’s something more going on with your radio operator, then there probably is. All we have is our own judgment in this business. If we can’t trust that, we might as well pack it in right now.”
“What do you suggest?”
“Why don’t you stay here tomorrow?” Josephine suggested after a moment’s thought. “Between the two of us, we should be able to determine if he is simply escaping the invasion like everyone else, or if your instincts are correct. And if they are, we should be able to find out what his game is between us. If we can’t, we hardly deserve to be in the positions we are.”
Evelyn let out a short laugh. “And how will we convince him to do that? He’s anxious to get me home, safe and sound.”
Josephine grinned and got up. “I’m sure we’ll think of something. We’ll worry about that in the morning. Right now, I’ll leave you to get some rest.” She tilted her head and looked at Evelyn seriously. “You look different, my friend.”
Evelyn raised her eyebrows. “Do I? I did lose quite a bit of weight, but I’m slowly gaining it back.”
“No. It’s not that. You’re different. You look...I don’t know. Older somehow.”
“Well thank you very much!”
Josephine laughed. “I didn’t mean it like that! Only that you look more mature. You look as if something has changed you. Has it?”
“Only the war,” Evelyn replied with a wry smile. “I think you’re imagining things. Perhaps you should get some rest. I’m just the same woman I was last month.”
Josephine shook her head and went to the door. “No. That you are not. You are changed, but I think it is for the better.” She opened the door and looked back smiling. “I’m glad you’re here. I’m so happy to see you again.”
Evelyn smiled. “So am I.”
Josephine went out the door and the smile faded from Evelyn’s lips as the door closed. She had changed. Norway had changed her in ways that she didn’t even fully understand, but Josephine had no reason to know about that. No one did. It was in the past, and that was where it must stay. She turned towards the bed. The war was changing them all. It was inevitable. Soon enough, this war would also change Josephine.
And Evelyn had a feeling it would happen much sooner than any of them expected.
Chapter Nineteen
10th May, 1940
Dear Evelyn,
I just posted a letter to you this morning, but I had to sit down tonight to write another. Can you believe it? We’ve been hearing updates all day, and with each one it gets worse. The Luftwaffe is going ahead of the ground troops, bombing in advance. Brussels and Antwerp are getting hit the worst, from all accounts, and so is Rotterdam. It’s really ingenious what the Jerries have developed in their Blitzkrieg. I’m obviously not in favor of the destruction, but no one can deny the effectiveness. As the air force bombs the airfields, communications towers and bridges and transport lines, the ground troops move in behind them, taking advantage of the chaos left behind. It’s truly frightening how effective it is.
I know two pilots who are in France flying Hurricanes. We heard tonight that the air battles over Belgium are already fierce. Funny thing, that. The Luftwaffe is outnumbered by the RAF, French and Belgians, but they’re managing to inflict heavy damage. Apparently they destroyed most of the Belgian air force on the ground before they could even retaliate. Is this the air force that everyone said was no threat? For that matter, is this the German army that everyone said couldn’t afford to go up against the French army? I’m very much afraid that what they lack in numbers, they more than make up for in artillery and tactics. If our lads can stop them in Belgium, and prevent them from getting into France, we still have a fighting chance. But if they can’t...
At least now we have a Prime Minister who will do more than hem and haw and delay. Have you heard? I’m sure you have. Chamberlain resigned this evening, and Winston Churchill succeeded him! Not Halifax as we all imagined. I’m terribly pleased by this turn of events. I think Churchill just might be exactly what we need in Downing Street. Why, he even looks pugnacious! I know many people laugh at him, and most of the party don’t even like him, but he will stand and fight. He won’t back down, and that is what we need right now with Hitler on the move. Luxembourg didn’t even put up a fight, from what I’ve heard. At least Belgium is fighting.
I hope you’re safe and doing well in Cornwall. That is where you said you were going next, isn’t it? At least it’s warmer there than in Wales where you got so ill. Please take care of yourself. I wish you could have rested for a while longer, but at least you’re safely tucked away in what has to be one of the most relaxing places in England. You’re well away from the excitement.
I go down to the advance station in the morning, so I must wrap this up. I hope you’re well, and I can’t wait to see you again.
Always yours,
FO Miles Lacey
RAF Duxford
London
May 11
Bill looked up when there was a quick knock and his office door opened to admit his assistant Wesley. He carried a sheaf of paper in one hand and a ledger in the other.
“I have the latest reports on troop movements, the first batch of transmissions from the basement, and the operating ledger you requested,” he said cheerfully, closing the door behind him. “And tea’s almost up. They’ll bring it around shortly.”
“Anything from Belgium?” Bill asked, holding out one hand for the stack of papers while he closed the folder he was studying with the other.
“No. Two messages came in from France. They’re at the top of the stack. One is from our man in Metz, and the other is from an unknown source.”
Bill raised an eyebrow and pulled the first two sealed messages from the top of the pile. Tearing open the first one, he scanned the message translated by the radio operators in the basement. His face lightened almost immediately.
“Fantastic!” he exclaimed. “It’s from Jian. She’s escaped Brussels and is safely in France. She’ll contact again when she reaches Paris.”
“That’s a relief, sir.”
“Yes it is.” Bill set aside the transmission and opened the second one, lapsing into silence.
“Bad news, sir?” Wesley asked as a scowl settled onto Bill’s face.
“Not good news, no,” Bill murmured. He lowered the message and frowned at the map on the wall across the room. “German motorized columns have been spotted moving through the Ardennes.”
“What?!” Wesley exclaimed, startled. “How many?”
“An entire army by the sounds of it.” Bill got up to stride across the office to the map on the wall. “At least five Panzer divisions, and very likely more, have been confirmed.”
“How can that be? The French claim the Ardennes are impenetrable!”
“Apparently they aren’t as impenetrable as they thought,” Bill muttered grimly, staring at the map. “Get Jasper on the telephone, will you? He’ll want to know about this.”
Wesley nodded and went over to pick up the handset on the desk. While he telephoned Jasper’s office, Bill traced the line from the Ardennes forest near Sedan to Belgium with a scowl. Five Panzer divisions confirmed meant that a huge part of Hitler’s army was coming through the Ardennes, not Belgium as they presumed.
“Montclair isn’t in his office, but his assistant said he’ll be back in half an hour. Shall I have him give him a message?”
“What?” Bill looked around, distracted. “Oh. No. No, I’ll go up myself when he returns.”
Wesley spoke into the receiver and then hung up. “What does it mean, do you suppose?”
“What do
es it mean?” Bill snorted. “It means that the French High Command has been caught sleeping. The Germans sent a feint into Belgium, and they fell for it. Based on the attack in Holland and Belgium, they committed all our best troops to Belgium to stop them. In the meantime, it’s not the main thrust of the German army at all. The Ardennes is!”
Wesley crossed the room to join him at the map. “Are you sure?” he asked, his brows drawn together. “There can’t be a mistake?”
“Metz has independent confirmation from four different agents in the Ardennes. Add that to the aerial photos taken two days ago showing columns of forces heading into the area and I don’t think there can be any doubt.”
“We have aerial photos?” Wesley stared at him. “From two days ago? Why didn’t we divert troops to the area?”
“Because the French said it was nothing. They claimed it was a diversionary tactic,” Bill said disgustedly. “When we sent another reconnaissance flight over, the columns had disappeared. So nothing was done.”
“Oh this isn’t good.”
“No Wesley, it isn’t. While the entire BEF is tied up in Belgium, the Germans are sending Panzers through the Ardennes. Look.” He pointed to the map. “If they break through Sedan, they can cut west towards the channel and trap our troops in Belgium. See?”
“Good Lord.”
“Exactly.”
“What can be done?”
Bill shook his head grimly. “I have absolutely no idea. We must stop them from breaking through at Sedan, but I don’t know how. That’s for the High Command to figure out. Our job is to get them the intelligence. What they do with it is up to them.”
“But...that’s our entire British Expeditionary Force!” Wesley exclaimed. “That’s the bulk of our army!”
“I’m well aware of that, Wesley.” Bill turned to go over to his desk and dropped into the chair. “How long has it been since they began their offensive? Thirty hours?”
“Something like that.”
“Thirty hours into the invasion and we’re already in danger of losing France.” He rubbed his eyes and leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling. “It doesn’t seem real, does it?”
