All the King's Men (10 page)

VI
Prosper

Since the summer of 1940, the Special Operations Executive had grown into a world-wide organization. It had developed networks of agents as far afield as Burma and Malaya and throughout most of occupied Europe. But the country where SOE expended most resources and where they experienced the most frustration was of course France. Operations in that country had been complicated from the very beginning by the presence in England of an obscure French General named Charles de Gaulle, the self-declared head of the Free-French. SOE found it necessary to have two separate country sections operating in France: RF Section, which was linked to de Gaulle’s secret service – the BCRA, and an independent French Section, or F Section, which operated mostly British agents exclusively under British command. De Gaulle never countenanced Britain’s right to operate their own agents in his country and consequently he never recognized F Section. On the other hand, many in SOE were equally exasperated by de Gaulle, who had succeeded in establishing his own networks in France early on, but then did nothing with them. As Colin Gubbins wrote, ‘De Gaulle is busy furthering his political ends … and [his] agents do not appear to be making any attempt to fulfil their primary role of executing an active sabotage and subversion policy.’
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It became apparent to SOE that if they were to play any significant role in the liberation of France, then it would have to be done through F Section.

French Section had been launched during the summer of 1940, by Leslie Humphries, late of MI6’s erstwhile Section
D. Humphries was already engaged in this work at a time when the head of MI6, Stewart Menzies, was still unaware Section D was no longer his. Dansey, on the other hand, did have his finger on the pulse, both in London and in France. Because his operations had been pushed back across the Channel, future work in France would rely heavily on recruiting from the native resistance groups that were springing up – the same pool of resources from which SOE would seek personnel. Dansey was greatly disappointed when his man in F Section, Humphries, was transferred before the end of the year to establish a new section. His replacement, H. L. Marriott, who had been the Courtaulds representative in Paris, lasted less than ten months. The man who succeeded him was the irrepressible Colonel Maurice Buckmaster.

It was Buckmaster and Buckmaster’s personality that became synonymous with F Section. It is his name that is recalled in the histories and memoirs of those who went to France for the SOE. In 1941 he was a tall, bluff-looking man, with an invariably beaming countenance that was too often darkened with each setback in the field. He was already older than most of his contemporaries and beginning to thin out on top. That and his boundless enthusiasm gave him, for many, the air of a father figure. There were many who admired him, and equally as many who did not.

Buckmaster’s problem, if one might call it that, lay in the deep-rooted attachment he felt for most of his agents, an attachment that many felt was soft and could sometimes cloud his judgement.
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In the end Buckmaster was responsible for sending nearly four hundred men and women into France, each with their own false identities, codenames and operations. The intense concentration of facts and names that were compressed into those four extraordinary years often meant that after the war, old pre-war friends and acquaintances had become complete strangers to him.

When Buckmaster succeeded as Head of French Section, he inherited a young man who had risen through the ranks
to be Deputy Head. Nicholas Bodington had been an outside candidate for the post of ‘F’, but unfortunately all the worst habits that had been manifest in Paris also surfaced at Baker Street, and though there was no doubting his extraordinary courage and remarkably dexterous mind, there wasn’t one officer in F Section who would have followed Bodington anywhere. The relationship between these two men was not good; it could not have been otherwise. Bodington’s swift and cutting intellect was bound to clash with that of the generously spirited father figure.

The other personality whose influence was felt just as strongly as Buckmaster’s was that of Vera Atkins. Flying Officer Atkins of the WAAF joined SOE in 1941 and surfaced in the role of Intelligence Officer. She was responsible for collecting all the intelligence that came into the place, either from returning agents or from the bits and pieces that trickled through from MI6, and turning it into practical information that could be used by agents in the field. Atkins’ powerful memory and sharp analytical mind earned her considerable respect and an authority that belied her official rank. She too felt a deep attachment for the agents who went to France, though her feelings were always well below the surface. Atkins was of much tougher stock.

Gradually, Dansey’s few remaining appointees began drifting from their original positions and his access to SOE’s operations had to become more serpentine. The simple fact was that SOE was expanding and absorbing people who had no prior MI6 or Dansey connection. Probably the most significant personality within the entire organization was a Scot who had moved across from Military Intelligence. Brigadier Colin Gubbins wrote most of the Army’s manuals on guerrilla warfare, and it was his vision and his authority that eventually became the driving spirit behind SOE. He became Head of Operations in November 1940 and succeeded as Head of SOE in 1943.
His tough, independent mind inevitably brought SOE into deeper conflict with the man they called ‘Uncle Claude’.

1941 had been a year of training, organizing and of immense frustration. F Section struggled to get any kind of presence established in France, a struggle made more difficult by Dansey. F Section got so little intelligence about conditions in France that by the end of the year they still couldn’t put together a list of strategic targets.
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Most of that information came from MI6, and Dansey just would not pass it on.

1942 was a different story. After a great deal of criticism for foot-dragging, F Section finally began to see some action down in the southern, so-called Free Zone. In fact, the summer and autumn of 1942 saw an unprecedented whirl of clandestine activity all along the Mediterranean coast. Not just by SOE. Everyone seemed to be there.

At the time when Déricourt was still shuttling back and forth between Marseilles and Vichy, there was a quickly expanding network of American agents, part of the newly named Office of Strategic Services – OSS (the precursor to the CIA); there was MI6’s new network expanding from the south, ALLIANCE, run by Marie Madelaine Foucarde; there was the Soviet Red Orchestra, whose second in command was operating from Marseilles; and, of course, in addition to all that, the SD was everywhere. Somehow, superimposed over what now seems like an entire espionage industry, SOE were trying to construct a network that would eventually reach north into the occupied zone.

Like the proverbial two ships passing in the night, Bodington came to the South of France just as Déricourt was preparing to leave for Britain. On 15 July 1942, Bodington flew to Gibraltar with one of the first women agents SOE ever sent into the field, Yvonne Rudellat. When they were landed by felucca near Antibes on 20 July, Déricourt was in Vichy. By the time he had returned to
Marseilles, Bodington had moved to Cannes where he stayed until early September. Then, while the latter was lying low in Cannes, Déricourt was engaged in the last series of flights from Marseilles to Turin. Though they were just a few hours apart, they did not meet.

Bodington had arrived to make contact with a number of Resistance groups which had indicated they would work with the British. From SOE’s point of view, they needed to find a leader who could unite the various groups and act as a liaison with London. In time, liaison would come to mean ‘take orders from’. SOE required someone who could instil in the disparate groups a proper sense of discipline, forge reliable channels of communication, and ensure that everyone operated to a single, clearly understood strategy. In return, SOE were prepared to supply
materiel
: Sten guns, Bren guns, pistols, ammunition, explosives and the training to use them. SOE would also provide wireless equipment and the operators who would maintain contact with London.

F Section thought they had found just such a figure in André Girard (codenamed CARTE), who had set the pulses quickening at Baker Street with tales of a Resistance army of the most prodigious size. After so much frustration and procrastination, SOE hoped they were about to make the leap into the big time. The first reports about CARTE’s ‘legions’ dated from January 1942. Since then, precious little had happened. Bodington went out to meet him because time was running out and SOE needed to know for certain if CARTE was really the answer to their prayers. CARTE claimed there were already detailed plans for sabotage teams and that he had organized a private army of no less than 300,000 men ready to rise up and throw the Germans out. CARTE was no fool. He meant what he said. He was a very intelligent and persuasive man whose loyalties were unimpeachable. He was anti-Hitler, anti-Pétain and anti-de Gaulle. But by the time Bodington returned to London, CARTE had delivered nothing more
than the very best of intentions. There was no army. CARTE had been a false messiah.

Even before the truth was known, SOE were already preparing to send in their own man. The woman who had travelled out with Bodington, Yvonne Rudellat, had been sent out to help provide the reception for someone who was at that time still completing his training in Britain. She moved from Antibes and settled herself in Tours to wait. There she made contact with a fugitive from the SD, Pierre Culioli. In the Battle for France in May 1940, he had been taken prisoner but was released after he became seriously ill. He attempted to get to Britain to join General de Gaulle and to this end enlisted the help of the US Consul in Marseilles, but without success. He was involved with a small Resistance group who were helping RAF pilots get across the Spanish border when he had his first run-in with the SD. After his meeting with Rudellat he decided to join her and work for SOE. In mid-September they received instructions from London to prepare a reception for some incoming agents. Among them was another of SOE’s distinguished women agents, Andrée Borrel (DENISE), who arrived by parachute on the 25th. Borrel too had been sent to prepare the way for the one who was coming.

Like most SOE agents, Francis Anthony Suttill had been put through an exhaustive training course at various establishments up and down the country. At Warnborough Manor, south-west of Guildford, he was given rudimentary training with Sten guns and pistols, taught how to read a map, and learnt a little of conditions in occupied France. At the Airsaig schools in Scotland he was taught paramilitary skills; to live off the land, to use explosives, to strip, clean and repair every likely firearm an agent might encounter in Europe, from the common Sten to the Schmeisser MG38. And he was taught how to kill – with his hands, with a pistol, with wire, even with poison. Finally, at Beaulieu he learnt how to live under a false identity. He was taught to become someone else – someone
with a history, an occupation and the necessary papers that would enable him to slip silently into French society. While all this was going on, psychologists watched him to see how he coped with the pressures of a clandestine existence.

From the middle of the year Suttill had been marked down to take on a critical role in F Section’s plans. His departure had been scheduled for the early autumn but had been postponed a number of times. It was almost as though F Section had been caught by a bout of stage fright. By September, the fog that had shrouded Allied strategy had begun to lift. A major Allied operation in North Africa was imminent. It was expected that the Germans would react by occupying the southern zone, and so before German control became too extensive F Section concluded that they should immediately establish a significant presence in Paris and northern France.

Suttill was driven out to Tangmere airbase, with an accompanying officer who checked him for the umpteenth time to ensure he had the correct papers and other pieces of paraphernalia a Frenchman would be carrying in the autumn of 1942. Around ten p.m. on 1 October, laden with parachute, weapons and maps, he clambered into a Hudson. Three hours later, nearly two thousand feet above the town of Vendôme, a tiny pinprick of light from André Borrel’s torch signalled to the pilot the presence of a reception committee. Once the pilot was satisfied that he was correctly positioned above the drop zone, he switched on the green light in the bay and Suttill heaved himself through the trap in the belly of the aircraft – and into the French night air.

Yvonne Rudellat, Pierre Culioli and Andrée Borrel were all there to receive Suttill. He stayed briefly with Culioli and Rudellat and arranged for them to provide another reception for his deputy, due to arrive in a week or so. Eventually Culioli and Rudellat established a new sub-circuit in the Tours area, linked to Suttill in Paris. Borrel
had already found him a little pied-à-terre on the Left Bank to use as his initial base, and from that humble beginning his influence spread throughout northern France.

Suttill had been born in Lille in 1910 of a French mother and an English father. He spent his early childhood in France, was schooled at Stoneyhurst in England, studied law in both countries and was called to the Bar in 1936. During the last few months before his departure for France, Suttill was asked to think of a codename by which he would be identified. He chose the name of a fifth-century Christian theologian, Prosper of Aquitaine, who preached Grace and Predestination. If ever a man’s fate had been predestined, it was PROSPER’s. He had arrived with a particular message and with a particular role to fulfil – and with the ambition to succeed. It was immediately obvious he had been invested with considerable authority. He and Andrée Borrel set out on a lightning tour of known Resistance centres, made contact with the local leaders and invited them to join their groups to his and create one vast single network. From Paris they went to Chartres, Melun, Orléans, Blois, Ramorantin and then north to Beauvais, Compiègne and St Quentin. And so the network grew.
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A few of these initial contacts had been known to the great CARTE spectre, including two sisters, Genevieve and Madelaine Tambour. Genevieve Tambour introduced Jacques Bureau.