JANUARY - MAY 1944
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1944 began with good news for the Russian Allies, when Leningrad was finally relieved after a siege of more than two years. The city, now known as the Hero City, was in a shocking state. Over a million inhabitants had died of starvation, while the rest were in very poor condition; but they had survived. Their defiance and tenacity against the Reich was a shining example for all those who struggled for freedom. No matter how bad the situation, how hopeless the future looked, as long as people held on they would eventually overcome the aggressor. On January 5th the Russian army crossed the pre-war frontier with Poland, and went on to clear the Ukraine of the hated Germans. The push continued, and by May, the Crimea had been liberated.
In the south of the European continent, the Allies staged a landing at Anzio on 22nd January. It went ahead almost totally unopposed, but instead of advancing while they had the advantage, they chose to consolidate their position. By the time they moved on over a week later, the Germans had built up a great strength in opposition. To relieve the pressure on the beachhead at Anzio, the Gustav line in the south began a bombardment of the monastery at Monte Casino, attempting to drive out the Germans whom they were convinced were garrisoned there. However, the intelligence was inaccurate. One of the greatest historical monuments in Europe was systematically destroyed for no reason. At last, after such a disastrous start on the part of the Allies, the Germans began to fall back. Each time they moved back to well-prepared defensive lines so that the Allied progress was slow and painful. The advantage they hoped to gain from the landings at Anzio was lost in a welter of confusion and lack of drive.
In England, the preparations for the invasion went ahead. Much had been learned from Dieppe, Anzio and numerous other attacks which began before they were fully prepared. This time, meticulous attention was paid to each detail of the landing. A great deal of dis-information was relayed to the Germans by their agents who had been turned and were now working for the Allies. Their masters in Berlin were uncertain where to focus their attention - the Pas de Calais or the beaches of Normandy. In April, the Allies began bombing the bridges over the Seine and the Loire, as well as the French railway system, in an attempt to disrupt German supplies. Back in England the soldiers who would be the first to go ashore on the D-Day beaches continued with their training. In the land around Marlborough, Bobby and Al underwent intensive training. They had less time than they would have wished to visit the women they loved, but there was a positive feeling in the air, wanting to get on and do the job in hand, and they were content with their lot.
Sarah saw Bobby whenever she could and still enjoyed being with him. Tony managed to get down to see Sarah twice during the first few months of 1944. He was glad their relationship was back to its old friendly footing, though he wished Sarah would trust him more. He knew that if he ever held her and kissed her again, he would force her to recognise her love for him, but she would not allow him into a position where he could pursue the matter. He also found it difficult to visit his home neighbourhood, without calling in at Heronfield to see his family. He longed to see his mother again, not just to write to her and receive her letters. He also wanted to see his grandmother, and try to encourage her hope that France would soon be free once more. But most of all, he wanted to see his father. They had always been so close before the war came, and Tony’s work had driven them apart. But, instead of confronting his family, Tony had to be content with training S.O.E.'s new recruits for the work they would be doing prior to the invasion of France. He hoped that he would be allowed to go out there with them.
135
Jane almost bounced into the room, her eyes shining, and Sarah smiled. There was something subtly different about her friend. She was always full of life, but over the last few weeks she had felt there was something more. She sat down on the bed, drawing her feet up beneath her, and smiled across at Sarah who was writing a letter at the desk.
"Are you writing to your Mum?"
Sarah shook her head. "No. Tony."
For a moment Jane’s eyes clouded, and she frowned at her friend.
"I thought you’d got over him last year."
Sarah’s smile was rueful. "So did I, Jane; and it's easy to pretend that he means nothing to me when we are apart. But when we are together I feel so alive."
"And confused."
Sarah nodded.
"Right as usual, Jane, but I can't help it. Tony seems to think that things will be different after the war and I have to give him a chance."
Jane frowned. She was very fond of Sarah, and hated to see her life in such a muddle. Yet what could she do to help?
"I think he's just using you like before. When he gets bored or finds someone else he'll stop writing and visiting again. Besides, I think you're being unfair to Bobby. He's so good to you. Yet you keep writing to Tony, and sometimes seeing him, behind his back. I could never do that to Al, and I don't think you should to Bobby."
Sarah carefully put down her pen and turned to face her friend. Jane was so defensive of Bobby, so hurt for the hurt that he might feel. Sarah knew it was time for honesty.
"I know what you mean about Bobby. We are very close and I think that if it weren't for Tony, I could fall in love with him, or at least we could be happy together. But you're wrong about me doing it behind his back. Bobby knows all about me now. I told him about Joe and about Tony. He’s willing to let me have time to make up my own mind, even if it takes until the end of the war."
"What? He must be mad! He should be forcing you to make your choice now." She turned her questioning gaze on Sarah. "When did you two discuss all this?"
"At Christmas. When he proposed."
"He proposed? And you turned him down? I take it all back, Sarah. You’re the one who’s mad!" Jane stood up, shaking her head in disbelief. "Bobby must be really hurting."
Sarah nodded sadly. She knew how much she had hurt the American, but could see no other course of action that would not eventually end in more heartache.
"I know. I offered not to see him again until I’d sorted things out with Tony, but he wouldn't hear of it. I suppose if I'm still seeing him he thinks he has still got a chance."
"And has he?"
Sarah threw up her arms in exasperation, her muddled emotions no nearer to resolution than they had been months before. "I don't know, Jane. If I could be sure of Tony I'd say no. But you know what Tony’s like. One minute he can be kind, caring, heroic, loving and the next he seems to cast me aside and be afraid to fight. I want the Tony I love to emerge from this war, not the other one or a mixture of both. I don't think I could live with that. But it wouldn't be fair to Bobby for me to agree to marry him now, only to find out I've made a mistake."
Jane sighed. "I'm glad my life’s not as complicated as yours. I think I'd just give up and become a nun!"
Sarah laughed. "Oh Jane, I do like your sense of humour! I don't know what I'd do without you here."
"Well, you'll have to manage without me soon."
Sarah nodded sadly. "Yes. I suppose you and Al will live in America after the war?"
Jane nodded, a mischievous glint in her eye as she smiled happily at her friend.
"Yes, I'm sure Al will want to build up the family business for the three of us."
"The three of you?" Sarah frowned in puzzlement, then suddenly her eyes widened and her mouth opened in a circle of surprise. Now she knew what had been different about Jane in the last few weeks. She had been hiding a secret.
"You're pregnant!"
Jane’s grin reached almost from ear to ear
"Yes, I'm going to have a baby in October."
Sarah rushed across the room and hugged her friend tightly. "That's wonderful news, Jane. Does Al know?"
Jane nodded excitedly. "I've just told him. That's where I've been. He's so excited and we're both so happy. I can't wait until the war is over and we can go over to America and live together as a proper family should. I hate being apart from
him."
Sarah nodded, but said nothing. The mention of the war had sent her mind racing ahead to the coming Second Front. She wondered if Al might not come back at all. She could almost see Jane in the same position as her own mother had been in, a war widow with a small child to bring up alone. She felt a shiver of apprehension run down her spine. Smiling brightly, she kept her fear out of her eyes. She would not spoil Jane’s happiness now. There would be time enough over the coming months to think of the danger Al would be facing and to cope with the fear that he might not come back. Right now, all Sarah could do was share her happiness.
"It's wonderful news!” she exclaimed happily. "Come on, let's celebrate!"
The two friends left the room laughing together. No one could tell the future, so they put thoughts of it from their heads and determined to enjoy the present.
136
Tony knocked on the oak panelled door and waited. Captain Dawson wanted to see him, probably about the new batch of recruits who were ready to go out. He was glad he would be able to give a good report of them all.
"Come in."
Tony pushed open the door and entered the office, where Dawson watched him thoughtfully from behind his desk. Tony saluted and closed the door, and Dawson waved a dismissive hand at him.
"This is just an informal meeting, Tony. Sit down." He indicated a chair on the opposite side of the desk and Tony sat down, puzzling over what it could be all about.
"When do you think the Second Front will come?"
Tony was surprised at the question. "I don't know, sir, but I suspect it will be this summer. Surely it won't be put off until next year?"
Dawson shook his head. "No, indeed not. We’re sending out as many agents as possible to disrupt lines of communication and hamper the Germans in their attempts to reach the beachheads, wherever they might be." He smiled at Tony. "Of course I don't know, and if I did I certainly wouldn't tell you."
Tony laughed but said nothing as the officer continued.
"We are particularly concerned with making life difficult for the Germans in certain ports, to confuse them and to try to stop them sending ships and U-boats into the Channel, where they'd be in a position to disrupt our lines of communication. Now we get to the point." He leant forward across the desk as he spoke. "Which of the agents we've just finished training do you think would fit in best with your old group in Saint Nazaire?"
Tony thought back to what he had been through with those brave French people, and felt his heartbeat quicken. He frowned, wanting to be as objective as possible in his choice of agent, while wishing that it could be him. After a few moments thought he began hesitantly.
"I suppose Cooper would do well, or maybe Wallis. But neither of them really knows the area. And of course they don't know the people involved."
Dawson sighed as he leant back in his chair. "That's the answer I thought I’d get. They would take too long to get acquainted with the area. Isn't there anyone else?"
Tony thought hard for a moment then shook his head. “No, sir. Only me."
Dawson’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "You were the first person I thought of, Tony, but I couldn't order you back there. Not after what happened last time."
"I understand, sir. You couldn't order me. But I could volunteer."
"You do realise how dangerous it would be for you? The SS know you’re a British spy. With the invasion in full swing, they wouldn’t waste much time on interrogating you again. I'm afraid that if you went back and were caught, you would be executed on the spot."
Tony swallowed hard and nodded. "I know, sir. I've given this a great deal of thought over the last few weeks, in the hope that I might get a chance to go back out. I know the dangers, but I also believe that I’m the best man for the job. I know the area well. I know the members of the group, and we've already proved we can work together as a team. As long as I’m careful and stay out of sight, I should be safe."
Dawson’s expression was grim. "You're not the only one who has given this a lot of thought. I wanted to ask you to go back. But I didn't want to put you in a position where you felt you had no choice."
"You mean I can go?" Tony was smiling, his eyes full of eagerness. "I know my work here has been useful, sir, but it doesn't compare with life in the field. You can't imagine how much I've wanted to be back there."
"Even knowing the dangers?"
“Yes, sir. I built up that group. It would mean a lot to me to fight with them for the final liberation of their homeland and, I might add, the final liberation of my own family estates."
Dawson nodded. "Right then. You're the one who will go. Now come with me. I’ll show you what we want you to do."
Tony eagerly followed his commanding officer from the room, and down the hallway to a small office. Dawson unlocked the door, then led him across to a filing cabinet. Unlocking the bottom drawer, he took out a brown manila folder. He placed it on the desk where they could both see its contents. Dawson spread a detailed map of the Saint Nazaire area and indicated certain points.
"These bridges will need to be destroyed before the landings. And as many stretches of railway as possible need to be put out of action." Tony nodded as the captain continued. "If there are any transport trains in the area, I want them destroyed. All this before the landings. Then, to keep the Germans busy, attack the docks and cause as much chaos as possible."
"How will I know when the landings are coming?"
"BBC radio." Dawson’s answer was simple. “There will be so many groups waiting to go ahead with their final attacks that we're going to use one blanket message. When you arrive, I want you to begin disrupting the transport lines. When you hear the first message, which will come on the first day of the planned month of invasion, you’ll know to get ready for your attack on the docks."
"What’s the message?”
"The first line of Paul Verlaines' Chanson d'automne. 'Les saglots long des violins d'automne'."
"How will I know what day the landings will be?"
"You won't, not exactly. A second message will be transmitted to indicate that the landings will begin within the next forty-eight hours. That will be your signal to launch your attack on the docks."
"What...?"
Dawson grinned as he interrupted.
"The message will be the second line of the same song. 'Blessent mon coeur d'une langueur monotone'."
"Good." Tony perused the map in front of him for a time, trying to form some idea of what would be needed to accomplish his task. Finally he spoke.
"I assume the group still have the Sten guns, but I'm sure we could do with some more ammunition." He began to mentally tick off the things he would need. "I'll need gammon grenades, clams, probably more plastic and some time switches, some abrasive grease would come in useful and probably some PIATs if you have them."
Dawson nodded. "You'll get them. We're going to drop you by parachute, so we can drop the containers at the same time. We'll be in touch with Angeline, and make arrangements for the group to meet you."
"Suggest a zone somewhere near the cave we used to use, if it’s still safe."
"All right. Anything else?"
Tony’s brow furrowed in concentration. "I don't think so. When do I go?"
"As soon as possible. Within two weeks at most. You’ll be in France before the end of April, in plenty of time for the invasion when it comes."
Tony had a faraway look in his eyes. "It seems rather fitting. I was there at the beginning, during the German invasion and Dunkirk. It seems only right that I should help drive them out again, and help to avenge those who are no longer alive to have that opportunity."
Dawson nodded his understanding. "Then you're determined to go on with this, despite the added risk of being known to the SS?"
Tony nodded.
"Then make sure that you have everything in order here before you go. I don't want to be a pessimist, but we must be realistic."
Tony nodded. "Don't worry, sir. I'll be ready."
Tony held the delicate golden heron in his hands, and gazed at it longingly. It meant so much to him. Each time he looked at it or held it, he felt close to Sarah. He remembered the times they had shared together, particularly the Christmas meal they had enjoyed and how they had felt the old closeness once more. He remembered the look in her eyes as she had given the tie pin to him, the look of love tempered with caution. He was going to hurt her again with his unexplained absence, but this would be for the last time. Once the invasion was over, he would have to keep no secrets from Sarah and he knew that she would finally understand him. He looked again at the heron, contemplating whether or not to take it with him. He turned it over. One look at the English assay mark told him that would be impossible. He sadly placed the heron in its box, and carefully closed the lid before slipping it into a large envelope with a folded sheet of paper. He stuck it down and looked at the address
Miss Sarah Porter. Heronfield House Hospital.
He placed it next to another bulky package on his desk, this one addressed to his parents. He was aware of the dangers which lay ahead, and the two envelopes contained his final goodbyes to the people he loved. He fervently hoped they would never need to be delivered. Picking up both packages, he placed them together in a larger envelope, and sealed it down. He gazed thoughtfully at his own clear handwriting.
Captain Dawson.
In the event of my death please deliver the enclosed letters to the people concerned.
Lieutenant A. Kemshall
With a sigh he rose from the desk, and picked up the small bag he had prepared to take with him. With one last look at the room which had been home to him for so many months, he turned and left Beaulieu training centre for the last time.
Heronfield Page 68
