All the King's Men (25 page)

Boemelburg’s tactful, one might say even sympathetic, approach was to catalogue the extraordinary bravery and resilience PROSPER’s people had shown under interrogation. ‘The Jew Worms has not uttered a syllable! And DENISE (Andrée Borrel), she has impressed everyone.’ This conversation took place before the SD had really begun to reap their rewards out in the field, and before news of it had drifted into Paris.
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Nevertheless, Déricourt had felt the first cracks of an arctic wind clawing its way through. Again, he received the same reassurances that he would be well taken care of. How attractive these reassurances felt that night in Neuilly, is anyone’s guess.

The Déricourts’ move to Rue Pergolese had its uncomfortable side. Emerging from the metro at Porte Dauphine, he would have to walk past the blazing lights at 84 Avenue Foch on his way home. How did he cope with the knowledge that each day more and more of his colleagues were being driven through the steel gates and down into the basement garages?

On 17 July, Déricourt was scheduled to run an operation down near Tours, on a field Clément had discovered. Joseph Antelme, the organizer of BRICKLAYER, and Jean Savy, a lawyer colleague of his, were on their way to London and away from the chaos. Following his meeting with Boemelburg, Déricourt also decided to get out. He
sent an urgent message to London saying he was taking advantage of the next mission to catch a lift back. This message wasn’t sent to SOE but to MI6. SOE were never informed he was leaving his post.

Then, as with the previous operation, Déricourt failed to make the rendezvous. Flying Officer McCairns circled the area for no less than 25 minutes before giving up. The operation was set up again for the 19th/20th. Déricourt rarely had trouble with unwanted German patrols interfering with his operations, quite the reverse. So why did he miss the rendezvous?

The night for which the operation was originally scheduled happened to coincide with a critical MI6 Lysander operation on the other side of Paris. From a field near Brez-Brouillancy, Marie-Madelaine Foucarde, the leader of the famous MI6 intelligence network ‘Alliance’, set off on her long-overdue trip to London to meet with her controller, ‘Uncle Claude’. It would have been very careless if Dansey had allowed two agents, from two vastly different operations, to get anywhere near each other as they passed through RAF Tangmere.

So, two days late, on the night of the 19th/20th, Antelme, Savy and Déricourt climbed into the back of McCairns’ Lysander. As the aircraft began to roll across the meadow grass, Savy and Déricourt watched the lonely figure of Rémy, giving the thumbs-up to them as they passed.
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Déricourt knew it was incredibly callous of him to have left Clément at that particular time, the latter’s safety being subject to an arrangement with the enemy, but he knew he wouldn’t be gone for long. The SOE had hastily put together a Hudson operation three nights hence, the 22nd/23rd, for what they expected would be a veritable exodus of PROSPER people still at large. As the Lysander lifted up and out over the Loire valley, Rémy was already organizing bicycles and the luggage. The SD were not on station that night – Déricourt had told them nothing about the operation.

Dansey arranged for an MI6 reception officer to actually meet the aircraft on the hardstanding and whisk Déricourt away from his SOE colleagues.
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He was taken to MI6’s own little safe-house where two nights before Foucarde had enjoyed her first English breakfast. From Tangmere he was taken up to André Simon’s flat in Harley Street, where he slept until late in the morning.
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After lunch he was driven to a meeting at one of Dansey’s ‘service flats’. No one at Baker Street headquarters (except André Simon and Bodington) knew that Déricourt was in London. Nor did they ever know.

Déricourt’s de-briefing served a variety of purposes. He was extremely keen for everyone to appreciate the delicate state of the situation in Paris. He needed to hear the same sort of reassurances from Dansey as he’d recently heard from Boemelburg. No doubt he was given all the encouragement and expressions of confidence he needed. But if Déricourt had harboured any hopes of being withdrawn from the field, he was disappointed. ‘I went secretly to London. There I received the order to carry on my mission as Air Movements Officer [for SOE] and other orders too. These related to the intelligence side.’
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Naturally Dansey couldn’t pull Déricourt out without revealing his hand? On the contrary, it would seem that Uncle Claude was of the opinion that the greater part of Déricourt’s work was still to be done.

He was told to return to France and maintain his contacts with Boemelburg. Déricourt was concerned, however, that his integrity in the field was beginning to be questioned. That would be dealt with, he was told, by an old friend who was flying out to join him. Nicholas Bodington had convinced his superiors at SOE that before anyone else went in, he should fly to France to report on the situation and make any necessary decisions ‘on the ground’. News of this decision had already reached Dansey.

Bodington would go on the next available SOE flight,
with the radio operator Jack Agazarian. F Section must have lost their concentration for a moment to have allowed the Deputy Head to fly to occupied Paris; but on the other hand, Bodington knew he’d be in safe hands. After the war, Déricourt claimed Bodington had known all about his operation from the beginning – ‘…he had been present in the room at the War Office when I was briefed to approach the Germans on my return to France’.
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Whatever argument he used with SOE, Bodington’s real purpose in going was to seal-up any cracks that had appeared in Déricourt’s reputation, something he’d become very adept at ever since Baker Street had heard the name Déricourt.

Bodington had already come to Déricourt’s rescue just a few weeks earlier, following yet another of those worrying reports from MI5. Back in April, during his Easter trip to London, there had been the report, gleaned from French intelligence sources, about Déricourt’s contacts with the Germans in Paris during 1940 and 1941; now the same sources had reported that ‘…the Gestapo are aware that Déricourt had been to the UK [the Easter trip] and that they would try and get in touch with him in order to use him rather than arrest him’.
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The provenance of such a report must be seriously questioned. Certainly there would never have been any leak from 84 Avenue Foch regarding Déricourt, he was one of the SD’s best-kept secrets. On the other hand, the report does date from the same time the Abwehr began their campaign to ‘discredit GILBERT’ – it may even have come straight from Hugo Bleicher.

At any rate, it was a serious piece of news and should have laid seeds of doubt for the safety of Déricourt’s entire operation. F Section chose to deal with it by asking Déricourt himself for an explanation – the perfect opportunity for him to exploit his greatest talent. As every basic manual of deception will tell you, you start from the truth, and proceed sideways.

Déricourt had written: ‘One day two Lufthansa pilots called at my home. I had met the two officers before the war, when they were civillian pilots. I think I remember the name of one of them, Mittelhauser, who use to fly Paris–Cologne in 1939.’ Déricourt claimed they invited him to work for the German air-transport organization, Luftflotte, which he described as ‘an organization of the Lufthansa … which consists solely of French pilots … but is controlled by Colonel Kingsburg of the Luftwaffe’. (Luftflotte was also concerned with aerial reconnaisance.) Déricourt claimed he had extricated himself from ‘any further involvement’ by getting declared medically unfit for flying. He also claimed, ‘this little adventure had for a time made me fear for my security’.
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He sent the letter by the Lysander that had taken the Agazarians out of France in June. It was a neat piece of work. Déricourt had dove-tailed the SD’s very real visit to his wife, with an offer he had received back in 1941 to work for Luftflotte. It was an important step, for he was able to refer to this fictional visitation, with suitable elaboration, whenever his activities were called into question.

Referring to Déricourt’s letter, on 21 June Bodington pencilled a most cryptic memo which, once again, put paid to any suggestions that Déricourt might be engaged in anything untoward with the enemy. ‘D. is now in France and doing well. I don’t feel there is much we can do about this. [The report that the Gestapo might try to contact Déricourt.] We know he is in touch with the Germans and also how and why.’
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The last sentence employs what civil servants call an economy of truth.

Having played ‘back-stop’ for Déricourt at Baker Street, Bodington would now do the same out in the field, for Dansey must have had Déricourt down as a long-term operation.

From SOE’s point of view, Bodington’s mission would provide a much needed picture of the ‘situation on the ground’. Apart from establishing precisely who was secure
and who was not, Bodington was also required to solve some confusion over Gilbert Norman’s radio. There had been many reports announcing Norman’s arrest; and yet, his radio was still on the air. SOE’s signals branch had been suspicious of the transmissions from the outset. The very first transmission under Götz’s control had been too halting and with an uncertain ‘signature’. They reported, ‘unusual, hesitant – quite easily the work of a flustered man doing his work under duress’, implying that the SD were forcing him to transmit. But Buckmaster was of the opinion that Norman was not the type who would cooperate with the Germans. Unfortunately, Buckmaster wasn’t aware that the SD required very little assistance from Norman – and what they did need, they got from London.

Every operator had a secret code that he had to transmit, known as a security code, a meaningless series of numbers or letters that confirmed to the receivers in Britain that they were listening to the man himself. Often there were ‘double security checks’, one transmitted at the beginning and another sent sometime during the course of the message. While transmitting as ‘Norman’, Götz was surprised to receive from London a criticism for neglecting to use his ‘double security check’. Norman was pretty amazed too when Götz showed him the message from London and demanded to know his ‘double security check’.
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So Buckmaster wanted to believe Norman was still at large but Signals had their doubts. Bodington would clarify the situation.

Déricourt spent the night of the 20th at Simon’s flat in Harley Street and the afternoon of the next day in Bodington’s company. That evening, 21 July, an MI6 conducting officer drove Déricourt out to RAF Tempsford. MI6 already had two officers going into France that night on Operation FLORIDE; Dansey secured a place for Déricourt as the third passenger. They were put down to an MI6 reception at Chateauroux.
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Déricourt leapt from
the craft and began a lightning dash across country to Angers where he was scheduled to receive his first Hudson operation for SOE.

He caught the first train up to Vierzon, where he changed to another heading west to Nantes in the Loire Atlantique. He got off at Angers, long before Rémy arrived for their rendezvous. The army of SOE fugitives that both Déricourt and London presumed would try to get on that flight didn’t materialize. While Rémy and Henri sat in a café waiting for nightfall, Déricourt told Rémy he should go to London soon and be properly trained. Rémy shrugged. ‘By the way,’ Déricourt said, ‘my chief is coming on this flight.’

The virtue of the twin-engined Hudson was that it could carry about a dozen passengers and yet had similar landing and take-off characteristics to the Lysander. Running up towards one of those craft really was an awe-inspiring experience, especially when it had just dropped out of the night sky towards a series of simple torches stretched out across a meadow. Once again, it was an operation the SD knew nothing about, though that isn’t to say they didn’t know Bodington was coming.

Agazarian looked after himself, while Déricourt put Bodington up at Charles Besnard’s flat in the Avenue Malakoff, which Besnard now shared with Julienne. He was completely devoted to Julienne and it was really for her sake he allowed his place to be used as a safe-house. He was reconciled to the fact of Julienne’s involvement with Déricourt and the Resistance, though it would always be a source of deep apprehension. Lately, however, Besnard had grown a little more anxious for Julienne’s security. No one, not even he, could have been unaware of the new season of terror that had broken out since the PROSPER arrests. Déricourt sensed Besnard’s anxiety and so moved Bodington across to his own place in Rue Pergolese, where in fact he stayed for most of his time in Paris. For Déricourt it was the very pinnacle of success to emerge from the
Metro at Porte Dauphine with the Deputy Head of F Section and walk past 84 Avenue Foch. It was the first time Bodington had met Jeannot. They spoke very little to each other, except that Nick told her that ‘London thought Henri was doing a good job’.
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The secret that Bodington was at large in Paris was not kept so for long. Kieffer telephoned Colonel Reile at Abwehr headquarters to find out – in a roundabout way – whether they had yet heard the news – but before Kieffer had a chance to begin probing, Reile popped the question: ‘By the way, did you know the Deputy Head of F Section is in Paris?’
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Kieffer had no sense of humour. He telephoned Boemelburg and asked whether GILBERT had already informed him? Boemelburg confessed that he had not been informed. The only thing concerning Kieffer was who got to Bodington first, the Abwehr or himself. He also suspected that if Bodington was in Paris, GILBERT would certainly have known about it and was holding out on them. Kieffer also began to have his doubts about Boemelburg.