That the initial physical attraction between Joe and Yvette grew into something much deeper was the result, at least in part, of one of the written rules Georges had given Joe and Harry upon their arrival. In addition to admonitions about remaining as quiet as possible while in the apartment, and about remembering to draw the bedroom curtains before turning on a light after dark, the rules understandably stated that the “guests” could not go outside unless escorted by one of the family members. Though it might at first glance seem both foolish and dangerous to permit evaders to leave the relative safety of their helpers’ homes under any circumstances, most evasion networks saw carefully arranged and well-chaperoned excursions “outside” as a way to prevent the onset of a potentially catastrophic condition: evader boredom.
For young, healthy men accustomed to the high-flying and adrenalin-fueled life of a combat aviator, being cooped up in a small apartment—no matter how safe or hospitable—could very quickly start to seem like a jail sentence. The evaders’ inability to converse with their hosts, and in most cases the total absence of English-language reading materials, meant that airmen were reduced to playing interminable rounds of solitaire (if being sheltered alone) or potentially loud and contentious games of poker with fellow evaders. Such a regimen would quickly pale, prompting the young men to sneak out on their own in a search for entertainment—often of the physical kind. Though wearing civilian clothes and carrying forged identity documents, unless the thrill-seeking aviators spoke French they were almost certain to be quickly unmasked. Whether caught in a spot search or turned in by a prostitute or barman seeking to curry favor with the Germans, the result rarely varied. The evaders ended up in a POW camp, but the helpers they likely betrayed during interrogation always faced more tragic consequences.
Few helpers were in a better position to address the boredom problem than were the Morins. While sheltering refractors early on, the family had learned that the year-round flow of people into and out of the tourist areas of the Invalides complex allowed the “cousins from out of town” to spend a fair amount of time outside in good weather. As long as they were careful they could wander the grounds, or sit on a garden bench reading, or simply soak up the sun. With the help of Denise and her big ring of keys, the “guests” could even explore places that most visitors never got to see—including the roof of the Dôme church. More than one hundred feet above ground level, the semicircular terrace at the base of the dome offers a panoramic view of Paris, and if the “guests” stayed away from the edge of the roof they could not be seen from below.
Georges, Denise, and Yvette intended to allow Allied airmen the same opportunities to leave their hiding places, though the family understood that the non-French-speaking aviators would require a chaperone whenever they went outside—hence the rule. Unfortunately for Joe Cornwall and Harry Eastman, the elder Morins had been too busy during the first days of the aviators’ stay to accompany them outside. The July 24 arrival of Yvette and Germaine Mercier solved that particular problem, however, for with a few words from the French-English dictionary and some universal hand gestures the women offered to return the next day, Sunday, and escort the Americans on a brief stroll outside.
Yvette and Germaine were as good as their word, returning to Invalides the next afternoon. The airmen were delighted at the prospect of leaving the Morins’ small apartment, and Joe was especially pleased that as the quartet walked out into the sunshine Yvette very naturally looped her arm through his. Since Germaine had also taken Harry’s arm, Joe assumed the gesture was simply a security tool—two couples strolling arm in arm, each in companionable silence, would be less conspicuous than four people walking together but not touching or speaking. It would also make it easier for the women to respond more naturally if someone addressed either American in French, Joe thought, though he may have hoped that Yvette’s gesture might have a deeper meaning.
That initial outing apparently went quite well, because over the following week Yvette and Germaine returned every afternoon to chaperone the two American aviators on outside excursions. On at least two occasions the couples ventured beyond Invalides together, one day walking north back toward the Seine and on another going south to visit the Morins’ church, Saint-François-Xavier. And on at least one other day Harry and Germaine ventured outside the complex on their own, both understanding that Harry’s baldness was an especially effective disguise. His lack of hair made him appear even older than his thirty-four years, and with the thirty-something Germaine on his arm Harry looked for all the world like a middle-aged French husband and nothing like an Allied aviator on the run.18 The two Americans and their escorts were never stopped by the German guards either leaving or reentering Invalides, largely because of the soldiers’ laxness but also because the couples made sure that each time they went through the gates they did so as part of a large group of visitors.
Having the opportunity to leave Invalides and walk the nearby streets undoubtedly boosted the spirits of Joe and Harry, but it was their jaunt to a very different destination that would truly exhilarate the American airmen. That sense of exhilaration would be tempered, however, by the news that their time at Invalides was coming to an end.
ON JULY 29, EXACTLY A WEEK AFTER JOE AND HARRY FIRST WALKED IN the Morins’ door, Georges took the Americans aside and told them—again with the aid of his pocket dictionary—that the next leg of their onward journey had been arranged and they would be leaving the following morning. While both men had certainly been expecting to move on, Joe was deeply saddened by the news. In the few days he’d spent at Invalides he’d become very fond of the Morins, and more than fond of Yvette. She reciprocated his feelings, and in their short time together they’d found themselves able to intuitively understand one another despite only knowing a few words of each other’s language. To their own surprise, they’d each found the kindred spirit that had thus far been missing in their lives. Georges and Denise were aware of the deep emotional bond between their daughter and Joe, and though they liked the young American airman they urged Yvette to be realistic about the future. Joe was duty-bound to try to return to England and get back into the war, they told her, while her duty was to stay and focus her energies on the continuing fight against the hated Boche.
Though heartsick at the thought they were about to be parted so soon after finding each other, Joe and Yvette sought to make the best of the situation. They spoke of the coming separation as a temporary situation—the war would be over soon, they assured each other, and when it ended they swore they’d find a way to be together. It was, of course, a promise that couples have been making for as long as war has existed, and in their hearts Joe and Yvette likely knew all too well that their chances of ever seeing one another again were exceedingly slim.
In part as a way to cheer up both their daughter and the young American who was so obviously downhearted at the thought of leaving, Georges and Yvette suggested that they, Yvette, Joe, Harry, and Germaine spend that evening in one of the most exclusive places in Paris—the narrow terrace atop the Dôme church. It would be a particularly memorable way for the Americans to pass what was probably their last night in the City of Light, for they would be treated to a panorama that very few people ever get to see.
After the German guards closed the eastern gate at 7 P.M. and retired to their barracks on the other side of Invalides, Denise led the group to a small wooden door set into an alcove at the south end of the Cour d’honneur. Using one of the keys on her large ring, she unlocked the portal and ushered the others through before quickly entering herself and pulling the door closed behind her. Georges, now in the lead, started up a steep, narrow, twisting staircase that took the party past several landings, each of which had passages leading off in other directions. After a climb that left Joe and Harry puffing, the group came to another tight landing, at the far end of which was a short flight of stairs leading to a small door. After passing through it the group entered what immediately felt to Joe like a much larger and mor
e open space, and when Georges and Yvette snapped on the small flashlights they’d been carrying the two Americans realized they were in the long, heavily timbered attic above the Cathédrale Saint-Louis.
Georges set off again, and after moving several hundred feet along a broad, wooden catwalk the group reached two narrow sets of stairs, both far steeper than those that had come before. Georges led the way up one and Denise the other, and when they reached the top they each swung open a narrow metal door. The resultant twin shafts of light clearly indicated that the destination was at hand, but nothing could have prepared Joe for the sight that met his eyes as he walked out onto a small stone landing. Directly to his front was a large, dull-colored, metal-clad cupola, flanked on both sides by smaller, turret-like stone edifices that looked almost like small minarets. And looming up behind the central cupola was the massive, gold-topped dome that soared above the final resting place of Napoléon Bonaparte.
Georges and Denise led the others around the lower central cupola on a frighteningly narrow stone walkway. Chancing a quick look over the low wall to his left, Joe estimated they were a good one hundred feet above the ground, and despite his considerable time as an aviator he found himself leaning closer to the cupola. A few more steps brought him out onto the actual roof of the Dôme church, its surface made up of massive, rectangular blocks of stone laid in intricate, interlocking patterns. A central gutter separated the stones that supported the base of the dome from those that sloped upward toward the low walls lining the edge of the roof. The elder Morins motioned the others to follow the gutter around toward the southeast corner of the church roof, the point farthest from the German-occupied areas in the northwest corner of Invalides. Once everyone had assembled, Yvette reached into the pocket of her summer frock and withdrew a small camera. As Germaine Mercier translated, Yvette explained that if this was going to be their last evening together, they should have photos by which to remember it. She knew Joe and Harry would not be able to carry copies of the photos with them, she said, but she promised to find a way to forward them.
It’s unclear how many images were taken in the golden sunlight of that early summer evening, but the four that survive depict a group of smiling friends in various poses. Georges was obviously the designated photographer, for he only appears in one of the pictures. Each of the images shows the participants sitting or standing closely together, with their arms linked or their hands on each other’s shoulders. In one of the photos they are sitting on a section of upward-sloping stone blocks—looking almost like sports fans seated on a particularly sturdy set of bleachers. In the remaining three images Joe and the others are atop the short stone cupola directly above the right side of the entrance to the church, and the twin spires of the Basilica of Sainte-Clotilde rise behind them in the middle distance.
These last shots were something of a calculated risk, of course, for while standing or sitting atop the cupola the group could have been visible to anyone outside the complex who might have been looking in their direction from the south or southeast. Yet the danger was mitigated by several factors. Most important, the German gate guards who would have been the most likely to have noticed the tableau atop the church had already retired to their barracks area. And even had a wandering German seen the Morins and their guests, he would probably have assumed that no unauthorized persons would have been able to reach the area, so anyone up there must have authorization. The same logic would probably have held true for people outside the complex. If they actually noticed the group—which the time of day and the angle of the soon-to-be-setting sun would likely have made difficult—the assumption that the Germans must be aware of whatever was happening within a complex they presumably controlled would have dampened the curiosity of most passersby.
Following the impromptu photo session the Morins and their guests relaxed in their rooftop aerie, taking in the sights and talking of the journey upon which the two airmen were about to embark. When Denise talked about how difficult it would be for the men to walk over the Pyrenees into Spain, Joe laughingly responded, “Mama, that’s not possible! I can’t walk, I’m a flier.”19
When the sun finally went down a little after nine thirty, the group trooped carefully back down to ground level. By that point it was too far past curfew for Yvette and Germaine to attempt to make it back to the latter’s home, so the women made themselves comfortable in the attic space above the architect’s office while Joe and Harry retired to Yvette’s room. The following morning Germaine joined the Morins and the airmen for a simple breakfast, which for Joe and Yvette was an undoubtedly sad and somber meal. The melancholy atmosphere turned tearful with the noon arrival of a woman who was introduced to the Americans as “Marie.” She was, in fact, thirty-three-year-old Gabrielle Wiame, a Belgian-born member of the Bourgogne network, and she had come to shepherd Joe and Harry to the next waypoint on their journey.
The airmen’s imminent departure prompted a round of farewell hugs and handshakes, and though Joe and Yvette had sworn that they would be together some day, the very real possibility that they would never see each other again brought both of them to tears. After a long, final embrace that only ended when Georges, Denise, and Harry gently pulled the couple apart, Joe reluctantly followed Harry and “Marie” out the door of the Morins’ apartment. Just before the Frenchwoman and her two charges disappeared around the corner toward Invalides’ eastern gate, Joe turned briefly back toward Yvette, who was standing in the apartment doorway, now sobbing inconsolably. Then, with a sad, final smile, he was gone.
AFTER WALKING AS NONCHALANTLY AS POSSIBLE PAST THE GERMAN TROOPS on duty at the eastern gate, Joe and Harry followed “Marie” at a careful distance as she strode purposefully south for several hundred yards on the boulevard des Invalides. She ultimately turned left down a street lined with what Joe later described as “impressive” multistory apartment buildings, and over the next hour led the Americans generally toward the southeast.20 Her destination was the home of a friend and fellow Bourgogne member, sixty-year-old Mme. Madeleine Anna Melot, on the rue Larrey in Paris’s 5th arrondissement. Roughly two miles from Invalides, the apartment was on the top floor of an old and impressive building a fifteen-minute walk from the Gare d’Austerlitz, the main station for trains serving Bordeaux, Toulouse, and other destinations close to the border with neutral Spain. The recent widow of a French army officer, Mme. Melot—with the help of her housekeeper and the apartment building’s female concierge—had turned her large and rather ornate home into a message center and meeting place for résistants. She also occasionally sheltered evaders, and at the time “Marie” arrived with Joe and Harry in tow the dignified older woman was hosting Pilot Officer George Dickson of the Royal New Zealand Air Force (RNZAF). And, much to the Americans’ delight, also on hand was the third member of the Gunner Trio, Dick Davitt.21
After staying at André Schoegel’s apartment in Orly for several days after David Turner had been moved to the home of a female pediatrician who was sheltering Kee Harrison, Davitt had also changed locations. He was now staying with two women, Maud Couvé and Alice Brouard, on rue de Madrid, near the Gare Saint-Lazare, north of the river. Their two-bedroom apartment was more than a little crowded, Davitt said, because Maud’s two young children and Alice’s fifteen-year-old daughter were also living there.22 Indeed, Davitt’s presence at Mme. Melot’s home was essentially just a “day out,” and he was as surprised to see Joe and Harry as they were to see him. Given Davitt’s description of the tight quarters at the Rue de Madrid apartment, all three airmen were more than a little confused when, after a light lunch with their hostess and “Marie,” the latter announced that Joe and Harry were also to be sheltered with Maud and Alice until “some details” of their onward journey were settled.23
The reason why Joe and Harry could not just stay at Mme. Melot’s spacious apartment is now lost to history, though the most likely explanation is that the elderly Frenchwoman had already been tapped to host other—and perhaps more senior—
airmen. Yet soon after “Marie” and the three Americans arrived at the rue de Madrid apartment later that afternoon it became clear that while Maud and Alice could possibly accommodate one evader in addition to Davitt, they simply couldn’t take two. Probably hoping that he would be able to return to the Morins at Invalides, Joe insisted that Harry should stay with Maud and Alice with Davitt. When Harry agreed—likely because he understood his friend’s motivations—“Marie” concurred, and minutes later she left the apartment with Joe following at a discreet distance.
The young aviator’s hopes of returning immediately to Invalides were quickly dashed, for “Marie” instead took him to a different safe house, the apartment of forty-two-year-old Mme. Dora May Rospape on rue du 29 Juillet, in the city’s 1st arrondissement.24 While Joe left no account of his stay with the British-born helper, we may assume that her fluency in English and extensive library of American and British novels would have helped the airman pass the time. But we can also be certain that Joe was haunted by the fact that Yvette was so close—by now he was familiar enough with that part of Paris to know that Invalides was less than a mile to the southwest of Mme. Rospape’s home, on the other side of the river—yet he could not go to Yvette. He had been told in no uncertain terms that a sudden increase in German antiresistance activity in the area made it far too dangerous to leave the apartment, and that any attempt to do so could cast suspicion on him. Knowing full well what happened to those of whom the Resistance grew suspicious, Joe had no choice but to keep his ardor in check and hope that fate would give him one more chance to see the woman he loved.
Whether it was fate or just good luck, that chance came relatively quickly. Joe had been with Dora Rospape for eight days when the sudden arrival of a Turma-Vengeance courier signaled an imminent change in the aviator’s situation. In good English the man explained that the network’s leaders had decided to shift Joe to a different safe house, though no reason was given for the move. After a quick farewell hug from his hostess Joe followed the courier out the door and down the stairs to the building’s foyer. Before walking out onto the street the résistant reminded Joe to follow him at a discreet distance, and said that if he—the courier—were stopped by soldiers or police Joe should keep going and eventually make his way back to Mme. Rospape’s apartment.
Escape from Paris Page 15
