The Resistance

by Matthew Cobb

  263 De Gaulle’s reputation in London began to decline in September 1940 when a joint Free French and British attempt to seize the West African French naval base at Dakar failed dismally, partly because neither the local population nor the garrison were impressed by the presence of de Gaulle in the fleet offshore. The fact that the British allowed six Vichy cruisers to sail through the Strait of Gibraltar to Dakar did not help. Afterwards, de Gaulle was deeply depressed; the mission was a disaster and he had handed Vichy a propaganda coup – his forces had fired against Vichy French troops. See Marder (1976) and Kersaudy (1981). After the Syrian campaign in 1941, a secret protocol was agreed behind de Gaulle’s back, under which 30,000 Vichy troops, together with their arms and nearly 3 tons of gold, were repatriated to Vichy France. Crémieux-Brilhac (2001); Kersaudy (1981); de Wailly (2002) provides a peculiarly pro-Vichy account. De Gaulle’s accusation about the British attitude towards France was made in Brazzaville in August 1941. On the plane back, de Gaulle further criticized the British, in a conversation which was reported back to London by René Balbaud, who had joined the Free French after escaping from Dunkirk (see Chapter 1). Mackenzie (2000), p. 262, n. 4. Balbaud was by now an SOE agent who was working as a radio broadcaster in Africa (NA HS 9/79/3).

  264 When de Gaulle returned to the UK and requested a meeting with the Prime Minister, Churchill replied icily: ‘Until I am in possession of any explanation you may do me the honour to offer, I am unable to judge whether any interview between us would serve a suitable purpose’ (Kersaudy, 1981, p. 153). Nearly two weeks later, the two leaders finally met. They had a blazing row, banishing the translator so they could go at each other directly. However, Churchill eventually got an apology and pressed home his advantage, suggesting that de Gaulle should create a collective leadership of the Free French movement. This proposal, which was intended to weaken de Gaulle’s influence, coincided with a plot to oust de Gaulle, led by the head of the Free French navy, Admiral Muselier, and by the physicist and journalist Dr André Labarthe. Muselier was largely motivated by jealousy, while Labarthe (who had been a colleague of Moulin’s and later admitted to having been a Soviet agent since 1935) distrusted de Gaulle’s right-wing tendencies and wanted to give the Free French a more ‘social’ orientation. The outcome of a week of feverish politicking and British mediation was indeed a Comité National Français (French National Committee), but all the power lay in de Gaulle’s hands. Muselier was neutralized, and Labarthe was banished from the inner circles of Free French power. Churchill was not amused: ‘This is very unpleasant. Our intention was to compel de Gaulle to accept a suitable council. All we have done is to compel Muselier and Co. to submit themselves to de Gaulle.’ Cited in Kersaudy (1981), p. 167.

  265 Foot (2004), p. 444.

  266 Baynac (2007), p. 261.

  267 Foot (2004), p. 446.

  268 Péan (1989); Cordier (1989b), pp. 50–1.

  269 Moulin, together with the head of the Free French secret service, Passy, had travelled to Manchester in late October, where they underwent the parachute training course at Ringway aerodrome (now Manchester International Airport). They landed in the nearby park of Broughton Hall (now Tatton Park). There is a memorial in the park to all those who trained at the site during the war, many of whom never returned from their missions.

  270 Passy (1947a), p. 236.

  271 For accounts of the affair, and the subsequent fate of Admiral Muselier, who tried to mutiny against de Gaulle in March 1942, see Kersaudy (1981) and Kersaudy (2004).

  272 Mandel (1986), p. 66.

  273 US National Archives RG OSS E 92, Box 99, Folder 17.

  274 This was the opinion of Pascal Copeau, d’Astier’s right-hand man, in June 1943. Cordier (1999), p. 165.

  275 This scene is described in de Bénouville’s novel Le Sacrifice du Matin (1945), p. 231.

  276 Cordier (1999), p. 142. Cordier says there is only one copy of this document, in the SOE archives in the National Archives at Kew, but gives no reference.

  277 Noguères et al. (1969), p. 306.

  278 Frenay (1976), p. 123.

  279 Cordier (1999), pp. 144–6.

  280 Claude Bourdet later wrote: ‘. . . on a local level it was not always easy to find enough able leaders for each service, and we also discovered that those who were supposedly put in reserve in the AS [Secret Army], waiting for a hypothetical day, ran the risk of being rusty on the day we needed them, of going soft.’ Bourdet (1975), p. 116.

  281 Frenay (1976), p. 124.

  282 Belot (2006a), p. 170.

  283 Cornick (1994).

  284 Foot (2004), p. 102.

  285 Aubrac (1993), pp. 20–1. Aubrac was bluffing; she simply chose a message that was broadcast at lunchtime and told the Prosecutor it would be broadcast in the evening.

  286 Rémy (1948), p. 246.

  287 Rémy (1948), pp. 239–41.

  288 Bertram (1995), p. 46.

  289 Brossolette (1976), p. 118.

  290 Brossolette (1976), p. 120.

  291 Rémy (1948), p. 238.

  292 Brossolette (1976), p. 121.

  293 Piketty (1998), p. 165.

  294 Calmette (1961). Despite this link with the Vichy military, the OCM was deeply hostile to the Pétain regime. In January 1941 an internal position document set out the OCM’s perspective, which was clearly impregnated with the classic views of the French far right, and led them to rally to de Gaulle: ‘There is neither esteem for the Vichy government nor any hope for it . . . The failure of the Vichy government is blatantly obvious . . . It is not for the mass of the population to decide what the new order should be. It is for leaders to shake public opinion out of its confused thinking.’ Calmette (1961), p. 25.

  295 Calmette (1961), Perrault (1975).

  296 For the Free French in London, and in particular for Passy’s BCRA, the growth of the CND was incredibly important. The British were above all interested in German troop movements in the Occupied Zone; through the CND Passy could now not only show the BCRA’s worth to the British, he could also trade its intelligence in exchange for material favours.

  297 Pineau (1960), p. 130.

  298 On his return to Paris, Pineau was brought back to earth with a terrifying bump: the Gestapo had raided his apartment and had arrested René Parodi, a leading member of Libération-Nord. A few days later, Parodi was found hanged in his cell.

  299 Passy (1947b), p. 61. See also Chapter 3, n. 87.

  300 It was broadcast by the BBC on 7 March 1942. Crémieux-Brilhac (2001), p. 438.

  301 Pineau (1960), p. 145.

  302 Verity (2000), p. 35.

  303 Although Rémy (1948) describes the plane getting stuck (p. 287), Pineau’s account makes no reference to this (Pineau, 1960, p. 147). Verity (2000), p. 192, confirms Rémy’s account and gives the precise duration of the incident: seventeen minutes (this is presumably based on the pilot’s records). The landing field is indicated by a stone marker, by the side of the N147 heading north-west out of Loudun in the Vienne département. The site was never used again.

  304 Barbara Bertram, who welcomed Resistance visitors to her Sussex manor house (see note 71 below), woke on 1 May to find a freshly cut bunch of Lily-of-the-valley on her breakfast table, brought over from France in the night and presented, in the French tradition, for May Day (Bertram, 1995, p. 23).

  305 In 1988 Hugh Verity recalled the problems faced by Lysander pilots: ‘Very few pickups failed because of enemy action or errors in pilot navigation. With only a voice back-bearing over the Channel, a map, a compass, a clock and blind flying instruments, how was it done? Well, there were six things one had to do, and four of them before taking off. The first was to plan a route avoiding Flak, with a good landmark at the end of each leg. Second, cut half-million maps to cover fifty miles on each side of the planned track, and fold it like a concertina . . . Having prepared the map, the third thing to do was to study it for an hour or two before take-off, memorizing the shapes and the compass bearings of major
landmarks. Fourthly, one had to calculate the gen card in the light of forecast wind, and then, fifthly, . . . you had to fly the planned headings and speeds very accurately until the error in the forecast wind showed up because you had drifted off your planned track. Then you had to do a bit of mental geometry in the light of the different wind, and adjust your heading and, of course, the sixth thing, very obviously, map-reading when weather permitted . . . for this, water was the best landmark, coast, rivers or lakes, and, after that, forests and railways, and the last leg, which could only be a couple of minutes long, really, had to be from a really certain visual fix, a particular village or stream, or railway crossing or something like that which you could be certain you were identifying and from there do an accurate timed run of two or three minutes when, lo and behold, you would see the agreed Morse letter flashing up from the dark ground and that was really quite a thrill.’ Sowrey (1989), pp. 26–7.

  306 Verity (2000), p. 192. Pineau does not seem to have noticed that it was the same pilot, whom he calls ‘Henry’ (Pineau, 1960, pp. 234–46).

  307 NA HS 9/932. His full name was William Guy Lockhart. He joined SOE on 12 January 1943 but was ‘posted away for service reasons to A.I.2.c.’ on 1 May 1943. Lockhart’s SOE file shows that in December 1941 he and his wife, Ruby Lockhart, had one child. According to Rémy, in 1942 Lockhart’s baby son had recently died, and he carried a pair of small white shoes as a mascot (Rémy, 1948, p. 284).

  308 The story of the house and of the Bertrams’ work is given in Barbara Bertram’s charming memoir, French Resistance in Sussex (Bertram, 1995).

  309 All details are from Pineau (1960), p. 150.

  310 Pineau (1960), p. 153.

  311 Passy was particularly impressed by Pineau – ‘Full of dynamism and courage, he could easily absorb an incredible amount of detail’ (Passy, 1947b, p. 64).

  312 Pineau (1960), p. 157.

  313 Pineau (1960), p. 157.

  314 Pineau (1960), p. 158.

  315 Pineau (1960), pp. 158–9.

  316 Bourdet (1975), p. 98.

  317 Pineau (1960), p. 185. For an examination of how de Gaulle treated the Resistance in his public declarations during the course of the war (in general he ignored it ), see Rajsfus (2004), pp. 257–67.

  318 Pineau (1960), p. 222.

  CHAPTER 5

  319 Chevance-Bertin (1990), p. 75.

  320 Frenay (1976), pp. 131–2.

  321 Frenay (1976), p. 149.

  322 Frenay (1976), pp. 149–51.

  323 Kitson (2008), pp. 135–6. For Paillole’s account, see Paillole (2003), pp. 243–4.

  324 Frenay’s semi-verbatim account of the meeting, written soon afterwards, is reproduced in Belot (2003), pp. 259–62.

  325 Brunet (1986), p. 236.

  326 Frenay (1976), p. 141. This is not included in the apparently truncated, semi-verbatim account drawn up by Frenay the same day (Belot, 2003, pp. 264–6).

  327 Frenay later recalled: ‘What a bizarre situation! What luxury! And what fine fare in this elegant restaurant. Mme. Rollin was a very refined woman and not indifferent to political questions; in fact, she was bursting with political observations. She was a Russian, one of those whose accent never lets you forget it. Perhaps because of her origin she was sympathetic to the Allies. She tended to minimize all German victories, always implying that they were transitory, insubstantial. As I listened to her I began to wonder whether it was I or she who was representing the Resistance.’ Frenay (1976), p. 142. A few weeks later, Rollin was pursuing another lead and questioned Marie-Madeleine Fourcade, head of the ALLIANCE intelligence circuit, who worked for MI6. (At this stage her name was Marie-Madeleine Méric; after the war, she married again and changed her name to Fourcade, by which she is now generally known.) A similar discussion took place, with the result that some ALLIANCE spies were released from jail, and Rollin provided Fourcade with official ID in a false name. It was on the way to this meeting that Fourcade came up with the famous animal code names for the hundreds of ALLIANCE agents (Eagle, Fawn, Firefly, etc. – Fourcade herself was Hedgehog). This choice led the Nazis to call her circuit ‘Noah’s Ark’. Fourcade (1973), pp. 109–14. The English translation truncates a number of minor details found in the original (Fourcade, 1972, vol. 1, pp. 182–5).

  328 The best account of these discussions (including an accurate dating), and of the positions of Frenay and Combat, is in Belot (2003), pp. 267–73. Thirty-seven of the forty-five Combat prisoners were finally condemned to sentences of less than a year. This was academic, however, as most of them had already gone underground and they were tried in their absence.

  329 For details, see Belot (2003), pp. 273–6.

  330 Piketty (1998), p. 171.

  331 Douzou (1995), p. 103.

  332 D’Astier and Frenay met in Lyons, together with Moulin. There was a furious exchange, as d’Astier accused Combat of ‘serious errors’ and ‘grave compromises’ (Frenay, 1976, p. 146). Moulin did his best to restrain d’Astier’s self-interested (and perhaps somewhat artificial) indignation, and at the end of March he called a meeting of the leaders of both groups to discuss the situation. To make the situation less confrontational, Moulin also invited a representative of the new Lyons newspaper, Le Franc-Tireur. Moulin seems to have worked diplomatic wonders, as the outcome was ‘complete agreement’ and, after a delay of several months, the publication of a common statement which not only brought formal closure to the affair, but also concluded by reinforcing the link between the Resistance and de Gaulle: ‘We affirm that we are carrying out a united action, aimed at the same goal, motivated by the same ideal, and that we recognize General de Gaulle as the leader and symbol of the French resistance’ (Libération 25 August 1942). The appearance of this statement was preceded by an important shift in the attitude of Frenay and of Combat, both of which finally abandoned their previous ambiguity towards Pétain and Vichy, and publicly embraced the cause of the Free French (Belot, 2003, p. 279).

  333 Cordier (1999), pp. 172–3.

  334 Moulin wrote to de Gaulle giving his overall verdict on Frenay: ‘F [Frenay] has been a member of the Resistance from the very beginning, he has created a very important organization and is full of courage and dynamism; his good faith in this affair cannot be questioned . . . However, it is deeply regrettable that his more or less open hopes in the possibility that the Marshal would make a sharp change of tack – hopes which he entertained until relatively recently – led him to maintain his contacts with some Vichy leaders.’ Cordier (1999), p. 173 and Péan (1998), p. 409. From the beginning of 1942 Frenay showed his loyalty to the Gaullist project. A year earlier he received a substantial sum of money from General Viscount Benoit-Léon Fornel de la Laurencie, who was hostile to collaboration but considered de Gaulle to be a traitor – he had been a member of the military tribunal that had sentenced de Gaulle to death in autumn 1940 (Barasz, 2007). In November 1941 Frenay met la Laurencie in the presence of two Americans, ‘Mr Smith’ and ‘Mr Scott’. Smith was in fact Colonel Legge, the US military attaché in Berne. Frenay (1976) subsequently claimed that ‘Scott’ was US spymaster Allen Dulles. However, Dulles was still in the US at this time (Belot, 2003, p. 284, n. 2). Barasz (2007) has made the most intensive investigation of these events, but has been unable to discover the real name of ‘Scott’. Legge was probably the source of the money la Laurencie gave to Frenay, although not as part of an official policy. A month later Frenay and d’Astier met la Laurencie and emphasized that the General had to reach an agreement with the Free French. When Frenay asked what he would do when de Gaulle returned to France, la Laurencie breezily dismissed the problem: ‘Of course, I’ll grant him amnesty,’ he said. Frenay (1976), pp. 106–7. Barasz (2007) wonders whether this comment was ever actually made (although la Laurencie apparently made a similar remark to Christian Pineau – Pineau, 1960, p. 99). Moulin reported to London that he had seen off both la Laurencie and the ‘Americans’. A joint statement from Combat and Libération declared that de Ga
ulle, not la Laurencie, was their leader and a copy was pointedly sent to President Roosevelt. Combat even denounced la Laurencie in its pages, instructing its members to have nothing further to do with him. This impressed Moulin, who in August 1942 wrote to de Gaulle: ‘I emphasize his loyalty in the la Laurencie affair. He went even further than the wishes of the other movements and of myself, by criticizing la Laurencie by name in his newspaper, which was not strictly necessary.’ Cordier (1999), p. 164. La Laurencie himself was arrested by the Vichy police, imprisoned, and played no further part in the Resistance.

  335 Frenay (1976), p. 155.

  336 Frenay (1976), p. 164.

  337 Baynac (2007), p. 335.

  338 Roussel (2002), p. 409.

  339 Summary of Moulin’s telegram in War Diary for May 1942. NA HS 7/232, p. 3797.

  340 NA HS 7/232, pp. 3796–7. There were various repercussions after the May Day demonstrations. In Annecy local fascist bully boys, frustrated at seeing the population protesting against Vichy, decided to humiliate François de Menthon, the Combat leader who lived in the town. On 2 May they dumped him in the fountain in front of the town hall. Damp but unbowed, de Menthon cycled home, after making an official complaint to the police. More important, Lyons continued to be the focus of Resistance activity. On 18 May the Berlin Philharmonic was due to play in the Salle Rameau, the prestigious Lyons concert hall. That evening, about 1,000 demonstrators – including Morandat – protested outside, singing the ‘Marseillaise’ and shouting ‘Down with the Huns, death to Hitler, free our prisoners!’ Even the coded summary description sent to London did not hide the excitement of the night. NA HS 7/232, p. 3796. Frenay (1976), p. 155 gives the date as 18 March. I have assumed that the contemporary records are accurate.