The Lady Is a Spy

by Don Mitchell

  On March 19, their last day in London, Virginia and Aramis were greeted by Colonel Buckmaster and his assistant. Buckmaster liked to present his agents with a luxury item before they went off to the field. The colonel gave Aramis an alligator skin wallet, which Aramis suspected of having been made in Germany. Preparing to cross the English Channel, the two left London by train to the southern coast of England. They had a restful evening at the Redcliffe Hotel in Paignton, a seaside town on the coast of Tor Bay in Devon. The next day, which was sunny and balmy, American troops could be seen at the nearby seashore conducting military exercises.

  On the evening of March 20, Virginia and Aramis were driven to a seaport some twenty to thirty miles away and placed aboard a small patrol vessel where the two changed into civilian clothes. The boat was piloted by Captain Peter Harratt.

  They checked all their pockets to make sure there was no “pocket litter” (e.g., British hotel receipts, London subway tickets, non-French currency) that would undermine their new French cover identities. Then, as Aramis would later recall, “We came up on deck as the night was falling and the effect of the shimmering lights of what looked like a million crafts of all kinds was something unforgettable to behold. We had our meal at the officers table and pretty soon were on our way to the great adventure.”

  After coming ashore on a French beach and beginning to hike inland, Virginia, Aramis, and the landing party reached the top of the cliff. Aramis, however, fell into a crevice and wrenched his knee, making it difficult for him to carry his heavy bag. The group continued their trek, crossing over hedges and barbed wire, before arriving at an abandoned cottage. They rested there and continued on to a farm where they were provided with food and drinks.

  Next, they were driven by truck for several miles, and then they walked for another two miles. Aramis’s swollen knee had become unbearable, and he could hardly stand up. Finally, they reached a farmhouse where they ate a meal. The village’s veterinarian drove them to the medieval town of Morlaix, on Brittany’s coast, to see a physician. “Une entorse,” the doctor pronounced after examining his patient. A sprain. The doctor bandaged the knee and informed Aramis that the injury would cause him pain for quite a while. Aramis would feel that pain for the rest of his time in France.

  From the doctor’s office, Virginia and Aramis walked to the railroad station, each carrying two bags. Around 7:00 that night, they boarded a train to Paris. While there were many German soldiers on the train, the older French gentleman and his “wife” attracted no attention. The train arrived in Paris at 6:30 the following morning. Virginia and Aramis passed unnoticed among the many other travelers carrying their own baggage. The two weary travelers took the Paris subway to the Invalides Metro station.

  They met up with an old friend of Virginia’s, Madame Long, who lived close to the Rue de Babylone, and found a room for Aramis in a nearby pensione, or boardinghouse. The landlady was a Gaulliste—a French citizen who rejected the Vichy collaboration with the Germans and supported General Charles de Gaulle in wanting to get France back in the war. Accordingly, the landlady did not require Aramis to fill out any registration form, making it a fairly safe place for him to stay. However, the boardinghouse was also inhabited by rowdy young people who constantly asked the increasingly uncomfortable Aramis to explain his frequent absences.

  Virginia stayed in Madame Long’s apartment. After further discussion with Aramis, however, Madame Long decided that he was excessively talkative and indiscreet. She informed Virginia that she didn’t want Aramis coming by to visit her apartment. So Virginia thought it wise for her and Aramis to move on.

  The following morning, Virginia stopped by Aramis’s boardinghouse and, apparently to spare him the true nature of Madame Long’s concerns, told him that Madame Long was “very uneasy and fearful of her presence there.”

  The next day, Virginia and Aramis traveled to Creuse. Aramis purchased reserved seats on a train out of the Austerlitz station in Paris. They traveled to Saint-Sébastien, between Argenton and Limoges, arriving in the darkness at 6:30 a.m. With only a verbal description provided previously by an OSS colleague, the two trudged about three and a half miles through the French countryside to a farm at Maisons-sous-Crozant. Because of the pain in his knee, helping to carry the luggage was a particular ordeal for Aramis, and he kept up a steady stream of profanity during their trek. At around 11:00 a.m., the couple reached the farm. Aramis noted that “the farmer was cordial, but his enthusiasm, if any, was not showing.”

  Nevertheless, the farmer offered to let Virginia stay at a modest one-room house he owned by the roadside. It had a stove that didn’t work, and no electricity or water, but it was an inconspicuous place for Virginia to conduct her business. The farmer arranged for Virginia to work and take meals at his own house at the far side of the village. Fortunately, spring was in the air and the weather was becoming more pleasant.

  Aramis returned to Paris to begin his own work while Virginia broadcast her radio reports to London. Aramis would come back a few more times to visit Virginia, providing her with supplies and passing along messages related to his clandestine activities.

  In exchange for her housing, Virginia cooked for the farmer, his elderly mother, and the hired hand. Because there was no working stove in the house, she cooked on the open fire. In her childhood, Virginia never could have dreamed that growing up exposed to farm life in rural Maryland would one day allow her to “live her cover” as an intelligence officer. She later recalled that “my life in the Creuse consisted of taking the cows to pasture, cooking for the farmers on an open fire and doing my W/T work.”

  Virginia’s radio transmitter.

  Virginia’s W/T work would prove invaluable. For example, between July 14 and August 14, 1944, Virginia sent thirty-seven radio messages on behalf of the Maquis to London; some of those messages provided the Allies with valuable information about the movement of German forces.

  While Virginia was in the field, her status changed and she formally transferred from the SOE to the OSS. The change had been a while in coming.

  Ever since Virginia completed her first tour of duty in France for the SOE, she was keen on returning, despite the enormous danger to herself because of her notoriety with the Germans. By this time, the SOE and OSS were working closely together. (Indeed, in July 1944, the SOE came under the combined command of British, American, and French authorities and became known as Special Force Headquarters.) At various times since her return to Great Britain, Virginia expressed the desire to transfer to the OSS. But as an OSS official stated, “… at the time it was not clear whether she could again be used as an agent in the field and no further action was taken.”

  Just days before Virginia began her second tour of duty in France as an SOE agent, she met with an OSS official and again made her case for being transferred to the OSS. The official stated:

  I have interviewed the above mentioned lady [Virginia Hall] and I feel confident that the main reason she wishes to transfer from SOE to OSS is for national [presumably patriotic] reason[s] … She has been briefed to go in the field as radio operator with an organizer belonging to OSS [Aramis] and she has again expressed a desire to go as an American body. The financial side, that is to say the salary she might earn with OSS has never been discussed and does not seem to worry her in any way. She merely stated that all money she might earn she would like to be sent to her mother, Mrs. E. L. Hall, Boxhorn Farm, Parkton MD. If she is an American body the transfer of funds would be easy whereas if she remains a British body the transfer would be very much more difficult. However the financial improvements she might obtain are not the main purpose for obtaining a transfer.

  On April 1, 1944, Virginia officially became “an American body,” joining the OSS Western European Section’s Special Operations Branch (SO). In her new position, Virginia was to “receive pay and allowances of a 2nd Lieutenant in the US Army, of comparable status, which is in her case $336.00 (single, and not receiving parachute pay).” Her
entire pay was transferred each month to her mother’s bank account in Baltimore, Maryland.

  Working with the Resistance was as dangerous as serving with the OSS or the SOE. Acts of sabotage often brought about ruthless reprisals from the Nazis. Virginia and her colleagues were all at great risk. For example, on the same day that Virginia formally became a member of the OSS, the Resistance blew up a railway line at Ascq, France, near the border with Belgium. A train carrying sixty armored vehicles of an SS Panzer Division, along with four hundred German soldiers, was derailed. There was only minor damage and none of the troops were injured. However, the enraged Nazis went on a brutal rampage, killing the stationmaster and one of his workers. Nazi soldiers then gathered the local men in town to repair the railway, promising that they would soon return to their homes. One of the townsmen recalled what happened next:

  We were made to walk for about 15 to 20 minutes until we went through a hole in the fence onto the railway line, beaten with rifle butts as we went … There were German soldiers, with a machine gun, on the ground by the track … I thought we were going to be put on to the train. As I walked, I saw around 20 to 25 bodies on the ground, and I realized we were going to be shot. We walked a few metres more. The man at the head of our group was a gamekeeper; he was shot at point-blank range by a German. I saw him fall—I was fifth or sixth in line. That was the signal for the Germans by the railway to start shooting. I leaped forward and fell to the ground holding my head in my hands. The shooting carried on. Then everything went quiet. The Germans were walking up and down the path. After a moment, another group of prisoners arrived. They passed barely one metre from my feet and then the shooting began again. After this round of shots, I heard two victims still breathing; a German must have heard them, because there were two shots right next to me. I was kicked twice in the ribs and once in the shoulder, as though to make sure I was dead … Eventually a locomotive came and took the train away—it seemed to take forever. I could still hear noises and the sound of Germans on the track. I still didn’t dare move. Then a comrade in front of me began to crawl away. I was afraid that the Germans might see him and come and finish us off, but I did the same. Together with a third man we crawled through the field to the Rue Mangin. Then I fled to the other side of the village.

  In total, eighty-six men, between fifteen and seventy-five years old, were killed that night.

  French Resistance fighters sabotaging the Marseille-Paris railway in August 1944.

  Despite the danger, Virginia got busy scouting nearby fields suitable for parachute drops and identified “farmers and farm hands willing and eager to help.” But it was also clear that Virginia was becoming increasingly exasperated by Aramis:

  Aramis came to Maisons twice, but with nothing to report except having found an old family friend whose flat he could use as a safe house. He did not seem to understand using couriers or the advisability of so doing and fiercely resented any suggestions. Aramis was very tired by these trips. In spite of his robust appearance he is not very strong, cannot carry parcels or packages of any weight because he has no strength in his arms, and he was ill for a few days after each strenuous trip that he made.

  Virginia established herself within the community of Maisons-sous-Crozant. She worked hard at her farm chores and even took the time to teach neighboring children arithmetic. However, there were a number of security concerns.

  Once, Virginia was visited by several OSS agents. While they didn’t visit often, there was a chance they could have been followed. On another occasion, the agents failed to keep an appointment, and Virginia feared that something happened to them. Apparently, the true nature of Virginia’s mission also became well known in the village, which raised another security concern. Aramis feared that the farmer who owned Virginia’s house was talkative. One day, the village postmaster stopped Virginia in the street and “asked her with a twinkle if she received good news these days.”

  In early May, Aramis returned to Paris, hoping to continue his own covert mission. On his tenth day back in the French capital, he met up with a former comrade with whom he’d served in the French Army in World War I. Through this friend, Aramis was able to connect with a group of Resistance members who rescued Allied airmen and smuggled them back to England through the French underground. Aramis was soon able to establish a boîte aux lettres—or mailbox—to communicate with his contacts, as well as a safe house in Paris. Virginia’s radio transmissions to London passed along these accomplishments. Additionally, in preparation for the forthcoming D-Day invasion, Virginia transmitted to Aramis orders from London to establish five separate hideaways for radio operators in the geographic triangle of Dijon, Sedan, and Paris. He dutifully set out to accomplish that goal.

  Virginia outside.

  Virginia made it a point never to travel alone in France; she always traveled with a French companion. Virginia had become close friends with Madame Rabut, who was introduced to Virginia by Aramis. Madame Rabut served as a courier between the two Americans. Madame Rabut and Virginia traveled to Cosne-Cours-sur-Loire on May 4, where Virginia paid a call on a friend’s relative. The man and his wife offered Virginia a place to stay and gave her permission to work in the attic. She was happy to accept this offer. But by this time, Virginia had become increasingly wary of Aramis’s talkative tendencies. Accordingly, Virginia requested that Aramis not come to Cosne and not be provided with her new address. Virginia now relied on both Madame Rabut and her son to serve as a liaison between Virginia and Aramis.

  A few days later, Virginia was told that several Resistance members had been arrested and detained in the Cherche Midi military prison in Paris. Virginia went to Paris and connected with her Marseille friend who had expertise in getting people out of jail. He was able to contact a sympathetic German guard at the prison, who passed a message to the prisoners.

  In response, Virginia found out that the number of prisoners had grown from three to eight, with five more individuals arrested from the same Resistance group. The larger group would be unable to escape in the way Virginia envisioned, and the prisoners wished to stay together. Virginia went to Paris weekly until the beginning of June. At the time of the D-Day invasion, the men were transferred elsewhere.

  With the tremendous stress of serving as an undercover agent in a hostile environment, it is important to remain connected to a normal life to the extent that’s possible. Family members like to keep in touch with loved ones serving overseas, particularly during wartime. And those serving overseas want to stay connected with their loved ones at home as well. However, it’s unusual for undercover intelligence agents in the field to receive letters from their families. This correspondence is usually handled by government officials, who shield the nature, extent, and location of the intelligence agent’s work from their family and carefully screen any messages that are passed along. It can be dangerous for agents in the field to have letters from home in their possession as it could compromise their cover and put them at risk.

  Virginia’s mother, like so many other parents during World War II, only wanted to know how her daughter was doing. For example, on June 2, 1944, just four days before the Allied invasion of Europe, a letter on behalf of a commanding officer in the US military responded to an April 12 letter from Virginia’s mother without disclosing the true nature of Virginia’s work or the organization for which she was working:

  From a security point of view there is little I am permitted to tell you about your daughter’s work. For this I am sorry; it may however be of some consolation to you to know that my own husband knows absolutely nothing of my work; and such is the case of the family of every soldier in our forces. But this I can tell you that your daughter is with the 1st Experimental Detachment of the United States Army; that she is doing an important and time-consuming job which has necessitated a transfer from London, and which will reduce her correspondence to a minimum. Please feel free to write to me, Mrs. Hall. We here are in constant touch with your daughter, and are immediatel
y informed of any change in her status. I shall be happy to communicate whatever news I have of her to you.

  At the same time, Virginia, like many agents, seldom wrote home in order to protect her security. For individuals engaged in espionage, operational effectiveness and personal safety were dependent on being discreet about sharing information regarding their work and personal life. Virginia would later remark about seeing the dead bodies of colleagues who lacked that discretion.

  Virginia’s niece recalled only one letter the family received from Virginia during the war. In it, Virginia described the bodies of French Resistance members being spiked through their necks to iron fence posts, undoubtedly as a warning to anyone else thinking of providing support to the Resistance. Lorna Catling winced at the memory, saying, “Why would anyone write that to their mother?”

  The June 6, 1944, Allied invasion of Europe, also known as D-Day, was the largest military undertaking in world history as approximately 150,000 forces landed or parachuted into Normandy, France. The invasion—including approximately seven thousand vessels, supported by twelve thousand aircraft—brought Allied forces onto French soil for the first time since the evacuation of the British Army from France at the port of Dunkirk in 1940.

  Those who survived the war would never forget the invasion, which was a major turning point in the war in Europe. One OSS veteran, speaking of his nighttime D-Day jump into France over seventy years later, recalled: “It’s awful black out there when you look down unless you see a few tracer bullets coming your way.”