by Ann Kramer
In 1939 German forces invaded Poland: Krystyna and her husband left Ethiopia immediately for London where they arrived in October 1939. Jerzy offered his services as a spy for British intelligence and Krystyna volunteered to go into Poland to help gather information, distribute propaganda and help the Resistance movement. Initially there was some objection to her ideas but after a while SOE approved her plans. According to her SOE records held in The National Archives, on 7 December 1939:
‘4827 [Krystyna Gizycki] visited me. She is a very smart looking girl, simply dressed and aristocratic. She is a flaming Polish patriot. She made an excellent impression… Her idea is to bring out a propaganda leaflet in Buda and to smuggle it over the frontier herself. (She is an excellent skier and a great adventuress. She explained to me the route she would take. It appears that she has visited the Polish winter resort of Zakopane for many years and knows every man in the place. It was her chief delight at one time to help the boys smuggle tobacco over the frontier just for the fun of the thing. She is confident that these men will help her now). She is absolutely fearless herself and certainly makes that impression. She is able to get regular reports from the interior of Austria and Poland… She needs money for her work and I think she is going to earn it.’
Just a few days later, on 21 December, Krystyna set out for Hungary where she established her base. Within a very short time she had opened a route into Poland, initially persuading a slightly reluctant member of the Polish Olympic ski team to assist her in crossing the Tatra mountains and, before being forced to leave Hungary, crossed the Polish border six times and the Slovakian border eight times. On her journeys into Poland she carried sabotage material, secret mail and large sums of money, any of which, in the event of her arrest, might have ‘seriously compromised her’. According to her records, on one occasion during the severe winter of 1940/1941 she walked for six days through a blizzard in temperatures as low as -30°C at times. More than a dozen Poles lost their lives in the region while trying to cross into Hungary.
During her time in the region, Krystyna met and formed a relationship with another agent, Andrzej Kowerski (known in SOE as Andrew Kennedy). She managed to organize the escape of British prisoners of war from Poland into adjacent neutral countries, and to gather important military and political information from Poland and Hungary, working with spies for the Polish Resistance, she assembled a dossier with photos of German troops massing on the borders of the Soviet Union, which at that time had signed a non-aggression pact with Germany. This intelligence provided clues that Germany was planning to invade the Soviet Union. She also worked with Resistance workers to carry out sabotage on communication lines on the main Danube route leading into Germany from Yugoslavia, Romania and Hungary. She was arrested twice, once in Slovakia and the second time in Hungary but each time managed to escape on her own initiative. During her second arrest and while being brutally interrogated, she bit her tongue hard enough to draw blood, coughed and managed to convince her questioners that she was suffering from tuberculosis. Fearing the illness, her questioners released her, together with Kowerski, and in May 1941 she was smuggled out of Hungary into Yugoslavia in the boot of a Chrysler car belonging to British ambassador Sir Owen O’Malley. Kowerski, who had been masquerading as a used car dealer, followed. From there the two made their way through Nazi-occupied territory to SOE headquarters in Cairo, Egypt. Along the way, Krystyna assisted the Polish Section in Istanbul as a courier until called to Cairo to carry out similar work in the Middle East, particularly in Syria.
Krystyna stayed in the Middle East until spring 1944; she was given a special course in subversive techniques, including parachute training, then in June 1944 was sent to North Africa to work with SOE’s Algiers section. In July 1944, now using the code name Pauline Armand, she was parachuted into Southern France to help French Resistance fighters in advance of the American ground invasion of the area. She soon acquired a reputation for extreme bravery and quick thinking: on one occasion, German soldiers stopped her near the Italian border. She was told to put her hands in the air, which she did, revealing a grenade under each arm, pin withdrawn. The soldiers fled.
Possibly, however, her most famous exploit was the audacious rescue of her circuit chief, Francis Cammaerts, a former pacifist and one of the star agents of SOE’s F section, who with two other British officers, had been arrested by the Gestapo in Digne in August 1944. According to Cammaerts’ written account, which is in Christine Granville’s file in The National Archives:
‘We were arrested on the 13th August, and taken by the Gestapo to their headquarters and then to the barracks. Pauline [Christine Granville] spent three days and three nights trying to get together a corps franc who would attack the small German garrison at the barracks, and offered to lead them herself. The French Commandant of the FFI decided that the risk was too great, so she chose the last possible solution, knowing that we were to be shot on the night of the 17th, and went and interviewed the Gestapo herself, bluffing them with stories of the proximity of American troops, the imminence of heavy bombardments, the great importance attached by the Allies to our safety, and her own exalted relations, thus frightening certain of their lower ranks into cooperating in our escape. The way in which she handled these thugs… was unbelievably skilful. She took voluntarily one chance in a hundred, and undoubtedly if it had not come off she would have been shot with me.’
Krystyna’s boldness paid off: the prisoners were woken up and, expecting to be executed, were in fact taken to a car where Krystyna was waiting.
As if this was not enough, during the same month Krystyna convinced some seventy Polish soldiers in the German army to desert. In a statement by Lieutenant Colonel Cammaerts about ‘Christine Granville’ dated 20 November 1945, he wrote:
‘While Christine Granville was operating in the Col De Larche area, she obtained, by her own personal efforts, the surrender of the Larche garrison. Working entirely on her own she approached foreign elements in the German Army, particularly Polish troops, and persuaded them to steal all the arms of the garrison and surrender, carrying with them the breech-blocks of the heavier weapons. This work was of extreme danger. The Germans were fully aware that we were attempting this type of subversion and had taken every possible step to prevent it… The surrender of the Larche garrison seriously affected the German plans for an attack over the Col De Larche which might well have brought severe difficulties to the advancing American columns.’
Not surprisingly SOE recommended Krystyna Gizycki for an award on the grounds of ‘her cool bravery and total disregard for her own safety’ and she was awarded the British George Medal and the French Croix de Guerre. She was also appointed to the Order of the British Empire (OBE). Her life after the war however was difficult; she found it hard to settle to civilian life and for various reasons was unable to obtain British citizenship. She suffered from depression and in 1952 while working as a stewardess on an ocean liner, was murdered by one of the staff who had been stalking her.
Chapter 6
Behind Enemy Lines
‘You had to be careful. You had to have eyes in the back of your head.’
YVONNE CORMEAU
Once training was complete, and before agents departed, Buckmaster presented each agent with a gift – a gold cigarette case or cuff links for the men, and gold powder compacts for the women. They could be kept as souvenirs, or used as bribes or sold when in enemy territory. Then agents just had to wait until they were told that it was time for them to be sent into France. Typically agents spent the waiting time organizing their affairs, writing their wills and sometimes writing letters or cards to their families, which were left with Vera Atkins who posted them from whichever area women had said they were stationed. If asked to, Vera Atkins also from time to time sent what were known as ‘good news’ letters to agents’ families: these said nothing about what the agent was actually doing but provided reassurance that the person was well. Most families had absolutely no idea that their
relatives were actually operating in secret behind enemy lines; Madeleine Damerment’s family, for instance, knowing that she had escaped from occupied France believed she was safe in England, perhaps working for a naval officer’s family. They did not find out until much later that she was an SOE agent who had returned to France in 1944. Many women too spent the waiting period rehearsing their cover stories to ensure that they were word and cover perfect.
Moonlight drops
There were two ways of getting into France: by sea or by air. In the early part of the war agents were taken by boat from Falmouth to Northern France, or, if they needed to be dropped in Southern France, were flown to Gibraltar and from there travelled by sea on a felucca to the Riviera coast, which is how Odette Sansom travelled to France. Most agents however were dropped into France by air, either parachuting in, or being landed. Probably around 1,000 agents were sent into France by parachute, which carried its own risks; there was always the danger of landing in a tree, on a building, or straight into the arms of waiting French or German police. However, if all went well a reception committee would be waiting to meet the agent, who would be hurried off to a safe house. Yvonne Cormeau was parachuted into France as a radio operator on 28 August 1943.
‘On a Sunday afternoon I was taken to a house not far from the airfield and given a wonderful meal. I thought at the time it was the condemned man’s last meal. I was… dressed up in my jump suit. Then I went into the aircraft… We took off in a beautiful sunset… I was given a nice hot drink by the despatcher and then… he opened a hole in the floor of the fuselage. He… attached my silk cord to the side of the aircraft and told me to get ready… I knew when the green light came on and the despatcher gave me a sign, I had to fly through the hole… The slipstream from the motors carried me off. Slowly but surely my ‘chute opened and I didn’t even feel the jerk on my shoulders… it wasn’t a long drop. I took off my jumpsuit immediately and handed it to the French people who were meeting me. I only had a handbag, with my money in it, which was strapped behind my back, cushioning the lower vertebrae of the spine… I was dressed in what I thought was normal for France: black coat and a skirt with a silk blouse and black shoes.’
Initially SOE suffered a severe shortage of air transport for their agents: the RAF was very resistant to the idea of being used for special duties – not wanting to spare their planes and also because the higher echelons were unhappy about the whole set up. Eventually however two special duties squadrons were formed: Squadron 138 which used Whitley, Halifax and Stirling aircraft to drop agents and supplies, and Squadron 161 which used Lysander and Hudson aircraft to land and pick up agents. The Lysander was particularly suitable for the job. It was a small plane with a short flying range so only travelled to Northern France, operating out of a base at Tangmere, Sussex, but it could be landed almost anywhere and in a small area. Pilots and navigators needed to be highly skilled: they had to fly below enemy radar, navigating by landmarks such as rivers, lakes, church steeples, railway lines and roads. Once they arrived at the landing spot, they touched down, agents left the plane by means of a small ladder attached to the plane, returning agents climbed aboard, and the pilot took off again. Usually the whole dropping operation only took a few minutes.
Dropping agents into France could only take place at the time of the full moon and the few days before and afterwards, so that pilots had maximum visibility. Even then there were sometimes clouds over the moon, or the weather was bad and flights had to be postponed, which could be rather nerve-wracking for waiting agents. Women were given very little time to prepare; once the conditions were thought to be right, they were told to get ready. Vera Atkins always made a point of going with the women to see them off, maybe having a meal with them the night before, and waving them off from the airdrome. Before leaving, women were given their false identity papers and went through a final check; buttons, pocket contents, clothing labels, jewellery – everything was thoroughly checked and double-checked. It was not unusual for agents to have forgotten to leave family photographs behind, or perhaps the stub of an English cinema ticket. Sometimes Vera Atkins gave the agent a packet of French cigarettes, or a French newspaper just to add to their cover. Finally, all agents were offered a so-called L tablet or cyanide pill in case of torture. Some agents had these sewn into their clothes.
Couriers
Despite all their training, nothing could entirely prepare women for the dangers and realities of operating undercover in Nazi-occupied territory. Being dropped into France was just the start of what was a very dangerous mission. Arriving in France was risky in itself: if all went well, agents were met by members of a circuit or local Resistance fighters and taken to a safe house. But there was always a strong possibility that plans had been leaked and French police or Germans could be waiting. Sometimes a safe house had been compromised, and newly-arrived agents found themselves having to sleep in the open, or make their way to a far more distant safe house. SOE could not, by definition, always have the most up to date information about conditions on the ground.
Once in occupied France, agents had to find somewhere safe to stay, perhaps a small hotel or pension – they were advised to keep away from large hotels which were usually swarming with Germans – or more permanent accommodation, such as an apartment or bedsit, which was safe and that they could use as a base. They had to spend time familiarizing themselves with the area they had been sent to and establish their cover story so that they could start building up information sources and contacts. Agents had to be constantly on their guard. As M.R.D. Foot has said, agents spent their working lives on a ‘razor’s edge of peril’. Towns were seething not just with German soldiers but also the French Milice, to say nothing of informers. Anybody could be listening at any time, whether in a café, restaurant, on a bus or train, or even just in the streets. Many French men and women were keen to help the Allied cause, joining the Resistance movements and helping SOE agents with safe houses, food and clothing, but there were also many informers. No agent could be complacent.
‘…you never knew, wherever you were, in a train or a restaurant, if anybody was listening. An occupation is one of the most awful things because you’re not at home. You have to be careful of everything.’
(Pearl Witherington)
One of the first women to be sent to France was Yvonne Rudellat. A Frenchwoman, she had been living in England since her teens, and was working as a receptionist in a London hotel when an SOE agent spotted her. She was married but separated. At 45, grey haired and with a fresh complexion, she was one of SOE’s oldest female agents. According to her instructors, she was ‘an intelligent and extremely sensible woman’ with ‘a cheerful and attractive personality’. Her instructors also stated that she gave a misleading impression of ‘fluffiness’, but considered that her ‘air of innocence and anxiety to please should prove a most valuable “cover” asset.’ It needed to be. Code-named Suzanne and with a cover name Jacqueline Gauthier, a widow from Brest, Yvonne Ruddellat left England on 21 July 1942, arriving in the South of France by boat on 30 July in a dreadful storm. She made her way north on her own, crossing the border into occupied France by hiding in the coal bunker of a steam engine. She arrived in Paris then went on to Tours where she worked as a courier with the Prosper circuit, which was to become SOE’s largest network in France. By March 1943 Yvonne Rudellat had travelled hundreds of miles as a courier in the Loire district, delivering messages and carrying out dangerous liaison activities between the various groups in her circuit, providing information about aircraft drops of weapons and supplies. She travelled everywhere by bicycle, having to pass numerous enemy controls, sometimes with explosives hidden in a basket fixed to the handlebars. As well as being a courier, she took part in a sabotage operation of the Chaingy power station and personally blew up two locomotives in the goods station of Le Mans. An extremely brave woman, in June 1943, while waiting for a supply drop, she was caught by the Gestapo; she defended herself with her revolver but was shot
and captured. She was eventually sent to Belsen concentration camp where she died of typhus days after the camp was liberated.
In September 1942, just two months after Yvonne Rudellat left England, another two women were dropped into France, this time by parachute. They were Frenchwoman Andrée Borrel, who had been involved with the French resistance before escaping and arriving in England in 1942, and who had been on the same training course as Yvonne Rudellat, and Mauritian-born Lisé de Baissac. They travelled together on the plane but separated as soon as they arrived in France, Borrel to work with the Prosper circuit as a courier, and de Baissac (code name Odile) to be a courier and liaison officer on the Scientist network but liaising with two other circuits: Physician (Prosper), which was led by Francis Suttill and the Bricklayer network, under France Antelme. Her mission was also to form a new circuit. Using two different cover stories – poor widow or amateur archaeologist – she completed two missions in France, gathering information about dropping zones and training resistance groups.
By 1943 there were at least eleven women operating behind enemy lines, and more followed as the need grew, particularly as plans for the Allied invasion of Normandy took shape. Most went as couriers, using varied cover stories: poor widows, travelling sales representatives, secretaries and an amateur archaeologist – anything that would enable them to travel around without arousing suspicion. Moving around occupied France was extremely risky and couriers often had to cover great distances on foot or by bicycle, carrying information, money or even explosives from one circuit or sub-circuit or another. If they were stopped – and they often were – they needed to be sure that their identity papers and cover stories held. Germans were not the only danger; agents also needed to keep a close eye out for the Milice, or French militia, a paramilitary force specially created to assist the Germans. Often agents had to travel by train, which was risky; many agents often found themselves sitting next to German soldiers. It was safer to travel by night but that brought its own discomforts. Pearl Witherington was sent into France in September 1943, as a courier. Code-named Marie, her cover was that she was a travelling sales representative for a cosmetics firm:
