On 14 August 1944, Francis Cammaerts, Xan Fielding (another SOE operative) and a French officer named Sorensen were travelling by car through the French countryside when they were stopped by a Gestapo roadblock. Fielding pretended not to know Cammaerts and Sorensen, claiming to be a hitchhiker. After a search of the men’s pockets, however, the Germans discovered that each man was carrying a large sum of money and that all of the bills had consecutive serial numbers. They were identified as members of the Resistance, and immediately arrested and sent to Digne prison, where they sentenced to be shot. Upon hearing of their capture, Granville went to the local French Resistance group and suggested that she lead them in an attack on the prison. The Resistance fighters thought the risk was too great for the rescue of only three men, and refused to consider Granville’s plan. Frustrated by the lack of Resistance support, and determined to rescue her colleagues, Granville decided to rely on guile and deception as opposed to brute force. She borrowed a bicycle and travelled to Digne where she spent the next several days working tirelessly to secure her friends’ release. She made contact with the Gestapo, claiming to be both Cammaerts’ wife and the niece of British General Montgomery. Granville also came right out and admitted that the men in custody were extremely important Allied agents, and then spun a clever tale about how the Allied armies were within a few kilometres of Digne prison, and how the German officers would be treated mercilessly if anything were to happen to Cammaerts, Fielding and Sorensen. This was quite convincing since the Allied armies had, in fact, just landed in southern France (but of course were nowhere near as close as Granville made out). Offering the Gestapo officer protection from the Resistance fighters, and promising to tell the Allied army commanders of the benevolence shown by the Gestapo commander, Granville bargained for the freedom of her friends. The Gestapo officer, Max Waem, agreed to help Granville, but demanded that the British protect him from the vengeance of the French population, and that he remain a free man. Several sources also indicate that Waem demanded 2 million francs for his assistance, and describe how Granville leapt on her bicycle and pedalled the 25-mile journey back to her safe house, where she instructed her wireless operator to signal Algiers that they required 2 million francs to secure the release of Cammaerts, Fielding and Sorensen. According to these sources, the SOE placed such a high regard on Cammaerts’ life that the ransom was dropped by a Royal Air Force (RAF) plane that very evening. Brooks Richards confirmed the parachute drop in an interview he gave after the war. Curiously, however, neither Granville nor Cammaerts mentions the 2 million francs in their official statements with regard to this incident; nor does the timeline cited by Granville support this story. In Granville’s official statement she indicates that her conversation with Waem lasted about three hours, during which time she convinced him to release the prisoners. They arranged to meet at a rendezvous point in an hour’s time, and Waem subsequently arrived with Cammaerts, Fielding and Sorensen. Apparently Waem had returned to the prison and ordered the prisoners out of their cells, claiming that he was taking them for interrogation. He marched them to the prison gates, where, just outside and around the corner, Granville was waiting in a car. Fielding, Cammaerts and Sorensen left the prison mere hours before they were to have been executed. When referring to this feat in a letter recommending Granville for the George Cross (the United Kingdom’s highest award for bravery and equal to the Victoria Cross), Major General W. Stawell wrote, ‘The nerve, coolnss [sic], and devotion to duty and high courage of this lady which inspired and brought about a successful conclusion this astonishing coup de mains must certainly be considered as one of the most remarkable personal exploits of the war.’6
After securing the release of Cammaerts, Granville continued her work encouraging foreign conscripts in outlying German positions to abandon the war effort. She helped to maintain communication between the local Resistance fighters, who were working to make the German retreat as costly as possible. Granville also offered her services to the advancing American armies. On one occasion she was approached by an American captain, who was concerned about a potential German counter-attack in the area his troops had just taken. Discovering that the captain had a couple of thousand Polish prisoners (conscripts in the German army) in a makeshift POW camp nearby, and remembering her success with the Col de Larche garrison, Granville offered to see if the Poles would join the fight in support of the Americans. Addressing the prisoners in Polish, Granville explained the threat of a German counter-attack and asked for the Poles’ help in defending against it. She also indicated that they would be required to fight naked to the waist, since they would not be allowed to fight in a German uniform and there were no extra American uniforms to be had. After listening to her impassioned speech, the soldiers removed their jackets and waved them enthusiastically in the air. Once again Granville had demonstrated her powers of persuasion.
By September, Paris had been liberated, and the Allied forces had swept across France and were advancing through Belgium and Holland. Granville’s work as an operative in Occupied France gradually came to an end. She returned to Britain in November 1944, and a few weeks later was sent back to France where she was to launch a mission into Northern Italy. She crossed the frontier three times, establishing contacts between Britain and Italian resistance groups. These resistance groups provided a valuable service to the Allies by sabotaging communications between Italy and France as the Germans pulled back towards their homeland. Granville once again returned to Britain, where she enrolled in the Women’s Auxiliary Air Force (WAAF) and was commissioned as a flight officer. However, as the war wound down, there was little opportunity for Granville to work in her chosen field. There was talk of sending her on a mission into Poland, but nothing came of it. The war in Europe ended in May 1945.
Granville and Kennedy were reunited after the war but discovered that they had grown apart. Despite a fondness for one another that would last their lifetimes, they were never again an exclusive couple. Neither one wanted to return to post-war Poland, which was now occupied by the Soviets, and they both searched for a place they could call home. Kennedy eventually found work in Germany, while Granville – who was awarded the George Medal in June 1945 (for saving the lives of two English officers, Cammaerts and Fielding); the French Croix de Guerre in November 1945 (for saving the life of Major Sorenson); and the Order of the British Empire in 1947 – remained in Britain. After her WAAF commission ended in mid-1945 Granville was faced with few prospects. Memos contained in her personnel file indicate that the British government didn’t know quite what to do with her. Obviously there was no longer a need for her to work as a secret agent. Her lack of British citizenship meant she could not be considered for embassy work, and she had no clerical skills (nor interest in that type of work) to speak of. She received her divorce from George Giżycki in 1946, and over the next several years she took a number of menial jobs, such as a switchboard operator, waitress and shop assistant. She travelled frequently to Germany to see Kennedy, but was often restless and unhappy, constantly seeking the adrenalin rush that she missed so desperately. Vera Atkins stated bluntly, ‘She was quite unable to adapt to boring day-to-day routine … she lived for action and adventure.’7
In late 1950 Granville secured a position as a stewardess aboard the cruise ship Rauhine. She arrived in Glasgow on 1 May 1951 to join the ship for its maiden voyage. When it docked in London before setting sail for New Zealand, Kennedy flew in from Germany to see her off, and she told him how unhappy she was aboard the ship. The crew was not particularly friendly, and seemed to resent both her wartime decorations (which the crew were expected to wear) and her Polish nationality. As the ship set sail for its four-month voyage, Granville’s unhappiness deepened. The work environment was uncomfortable, as she was alienated from most of the crew, but she did manage to make one friend, a steward named Dennis Muldowney. He was sympathetic to Granville’s emotional state, and often helped her with her duties on the ship. They spent most of their free time tog
ether, and Muldowney claimed they became lovers. When the ship returned to London in September 1951, Granville made a real effort to repay Muldowney’s kindness by including him in her social circle. Her friends, including Kennedy, who had come to London to spend time with Granville, were puzzled by her attachment to Muldowney. One friend even said bluntly, ‘It was obvious that he had a frightful inferiority complex. We used to wonder why he was with her. He did not come from her milieu, and he was definitely not her type. Christine always had a wide choice of stunning men, so why did she waste her time on a goblin like Muldowney?’8
As it had with so many other people, Granville’s charm and beauty captivated Muldowney. He developed an obsessive interest in her, which eventually became too much for her to bear, and by November 1951 she was making a conscious effort to sever the relationship. She made social plans that did not include him, accepted a position on a ship that sailed to Australia without him and even told him to his face that he needed to leave her alone. Muldowney struggled with Granville’s waning interest in him, and over the next several months his obsession with her grew. He stalked her at every opportunity and Granville grew increasingly frustrated with his behaviour. Muldowney erupted violently towards her one evening, and annoyed, rather than afraid, Granville instructed Muldowney in no uncertain terms to leave her alone. Completely fed up and seeking respite from her Muldowney drama, Granville made plans in June 1952 to leave London to escape his attentions. She arranged to reunite with Andrew Kennedy in Belgium, but before she could leave the country Muldowney struck. On 15 June 1952 Granville returned home to the hotel where she had been living. Muldowney was waiting for her. The two argued on the stairs and Granville once more told him to leave her alone. Enraged, Muldowney pinned her up against the wall and plunged a knife into her chest. Christine Granville, aged forty-four, died almost instantly.
Andrew Kennedy was immediately contacted, as he was listed as Granville’s next of kin. He flew to London that same day, and took charge of arranging Granville’s funeral. It was held on 20 June 1952, and was widely attended by her friends and colleagues. Christine Granville was buried at St Mary’s Roman Catholic cemetery in north-west London. Dennis Muldowney made a full confession, and was hanged for his crime on 30 September 1952. Andrew Kennedy, who never married, returned to Germany, where he lived for the rest of his life. He died of cancer in December 1988, at the age of seventy-eight, and in accordance with his final wishes his ashes were taken to London and interred at the foot of Granville’s grave.
1. Arisaig House, where agents were trained in guerilla warfare. (Glyn Ednie)
2. Montagu Estate, the site of Beaulieu ‘finishing school’. (The National Motor Museum, Beaulieu)
3. Mass parachute descent. Agents had parachute training at Ringway. (J. & C. McCutcheon Collection)
4. Grendon Hall was used by the SOE for training, and for receiving messages from agents. (Andy Gryce)
5. Inverie Bay, the location of Wake’s all-male explosives training group. (Peter Van den Bossche)
6. Sten gun, carried by many of the female agents. (J. & C. McCutcheon Collection)
7. Thame Park, the wireless school where Noor Inayat Khan was trained in coding and ciphering. (David Harrison)
8. The Rings, the instructors’ house on the Montagu Estate. (The National Motor Museum, Beaulieu)
9. Violette Szabo, who enlisted as a secret agent to seek revenge on the Germans and was executed by a single gunshot to the back of the head at Ravensbrück concentration camp. (Susan Ottaway)
10. Etienne and Violette Szabo on their wedding day at Aldershot on 21 August 1940, less than a month after meeting. (Susan Ottaway)
11. Free French Forces parade on Bastille Day 1940, the very day that Violette met her future husband, Etienne. (J. & C. McCutcheon Collection)
12. Violette Szabo’s ID card, with her assumed name Corinne Reine Leroy. (David Harrison)
13. Violette Szabo’s George Cross. Violette was the first woman to be awarded this honour. The medal was accepted by seven-year-old Tania Szabo on 28 January 1947 on behalf of her late mother. (Susan Ottaway)
14. The entrance to the Violette Szabo Museum, located in Herefordshire, England, and run by Rosemary E. Rigby. (Pauline Eccles)
15. The Violette Szabo Museum. (Bob Embleton)
16. Nancy Wake, the Allies’ most decorated servicewoman of the Second World War. (Special Forces Club)
17. Rue Henri Fiocca in Marseille, named after Nancy Wake’s wealthy first husband and love of her life, whom she married in November 1940. (Jason Menzies and Lucy Allen)
18. The Auvergne region as Nancy would have seen it when parachuting in on 31 April 1944. (Raphaël Vanleynseele)
19. Nancy Wake’s ashes were scattered in a wooded area near Verneix in March 2013. The service was very well attended, and was followed by a drinks reception at the mayor’s office. (Janette Brown)
20. Gibraltar Barn, RAF Tempsford, from where agents flew to France. (Peter Skynner)
21. Gibraltar Barn plaque. (Peter Skynner)
22. Grignon Agricultural College, just west of Versailles, the working headquarters of the PROSPER network for whom Noor Inayat Khan acted as a wireless operator. (Direction de la communication AgroParisTech)
23. Supply containers dropped in the Vercors plateau, where Granville worked. On 14 July 1944 hundreds of Allied planes dropped over a thousand containers of supplies into the region. (Peter Skynner)
24. Noor Inayat Khan, who was executed at Dachau in September 1944. (Special Forces Club)
25. Noor Inayat Khan memorial bust in Gordon Square, London. (Paul Farmer)
26. Noor Inayat Khan memorial plaque, Grignon. (David Harrison)
27. WAAFs loading a tug with barrage balloons. Khan worked with various barrage ballon groups. (J. & C. McCutcheon Collection)
28. Sonia Butt in her uniform at Versailles. (Nadya Murdoch)
29. Sonia and Guy on their wedding day. (Nadya Murdoch)
30. Sonia d’Artois in July 2011 at her grandson’s wedding. (Nadya Murdoch)
31. A female parachutist preparing to jump. (J. & C. McCutcheon Collection)
32. Liberator aircraft. Wake, Szabo and Butt were flown to France in this kind of plane. (J. & C. McCutcheon Collection)
33. Lysander aircraft. Khan and Rowden were flown to France in this type of plane. (J. & C. McCutcheon Collection)
34. Halifax aircraft, in which Granville travelled. (J. & C. McCutcheon Collection)
35. The crematoriums at Dachau, where Noor Inayat Khan was executed. (Robyn Walker)
36. Diana Rowden, who was executed at Natzweiler-Struthof concentration camp. (Susan Ottaway)
37. Diana Rowden memorial plaque, All Saints church, Tilford. (John Horrocks and the Tilford Bach Society)
38. Odette Sansom, one of only four agents arrested in France who returned home. (Susan Ottaway)
39. Vera Atkins, assistant to Maurice Buckmaster; she travelled to Europe after the Second World War attempting to track down what had happened to the agents who had not returned. (David Harrison)
40. Odette and Peter Churchill on their wedding day in 1947. (David Harrison)
41. Odette Hallowes’s grave in Burvale Cemetery, Hersham, Surrey. (Kevin Brazier)
42. These railway sidings and the gasworks have been bombed as a result of Resistance intelligence from the area around Rouen, where Violette Szabo operated. (J. & C. McCutcheon Collection)
Women who Spied for Britain Page 17
