Churchill's White Rabbit (21 page)

He even felt compelled to make a will, something he had not even considered before, but Forest was not usually a superstitious man and he pushed the doubts aside. Even so he asked to be issued with a Welwand, the latest in SOE’s extensive catalogue of unique weapons. The Welwand, popularly known as a Sleeve Gun, looked like an uninspiring stick but was designed to be an assassination weapon or a last-resort device if an agent was captured. Attached on a lanyard up the agent’s sleeve so as to be hidden, it could be easily released by detaching the lanyard from a button on an agent’s belt, which enabled the Welwand to slip into his hand. Preloaded and with a silencer, the gun would fire a single shot without ejecting the bullet cartridge or making a noise. Forest acquired one of the latest models, which fired a .32 bullet, and hoped for Barbara’s sake that he was never in a situation requiring its use.

There were more concerns about the outcome of his mission when continual bad weather forced SOE to consider sending Forest outside the normal moon period. This would mean he would not benefit from moonlight to guide his path or help him find his reception committee. Despite the risks he agreed to the arrangement.

He was destined to fly on 24 February, and he ate a farewell meal with Barbara. A number of his friends came to see him off, only increasing his dread that something would go wrong on his mission. He had an overwhelming desire to run back to Barbara as he got into the car, and had a terrible anxiety in his stomach that he would never see her again, but then he was on his way to the airfield and to his newest mission.

There was nothing auspicious about Forest’s latest mission. Loaded into a Halifax with another agent, codenamed Trieur, the flight over the coast was the usual run of anti-aircraft flak. It would have been easy for Forest to let his mind slip back to that mission in December when the Lysander and its cargo of agents perished in the storm of German fire. But the Halifax ran into no difficulties and it wasn’t long before they were circling over the landing site at Clermont-Ferrand.

Parachuting in moonlight was not exactly easy, but in the darkness of an almost moonless night it seemed impossible. Forest hooked himself to the static line and stared down at the reassuring lights of the reception committee. The despatcher on the aircraft had told him it would be a 20 second drop, which at least meant the ordeal would not last long. A hand fell on his shoulder to signal that the Halifax was in position and Forest launched himself through the hole. Seconds can seem like minutes during such a drop. Forest was counting steadily, his mind focused on preparing himself for a smooth landing. As he reached 13 seconds he smacked into the ground with a force like a car slamming into a wall. Forest was knocked unconscious by the surprise impact. The pilot had misjudged his distance and instead of flying at 500ft had clearly been much closer to the ground. When Forest came round it was to be greeted by the concerned face of the reception committee organiser and a sharp pain in his ankle. Unsure whether he had broken anything he managed to hobble with the reception committee to a secure farmhouse, half a mile away. Trieur had dropped safely in the next field and joined them shortly.

The injury to Forest’s ankle proved to be a sprain and, although by the next morning it was swollen, it had not dampened his determination to reach Paris as soon as he could. Along with Trieur he was bundled into an old bus driven by a French farmer and escorted along rutted icy roads at breathtaking speed. Along the way novice agent Trieur had a heart-stopping moment when gendarmes entered the bus to check their papers. Fearing that there might be something incriminating on his SOE forged papers, or that he would be searched and his hidden revolver and sabotage plans discovered, he could barely contain his nerves as the inspection proceeded. Glancing over his shoulder at Forest he realised with envy that his fellow agent had managed to fall asleep and had to be woken to present his papers. Of course Forest was the master of catching forty winks whenever he could, knowing that any moment he might be called upon to perform some exhausting feat of espionage or escape.

Paris loomed. Forest lost no time in contacting his old colleagues. A BBC message had informed them of his imminent return and they were delighted, though apprehensive. Maud welcomed him with open arms; she was one of his bravest and most loyal followers. Jacqueline Devaux was persuaded to find a safe house for Trieur, who had entered Paris with no contacts aside from Forest. He was alarmingly unprepared for his adventure and Forest spent some time giving him hard-earned advice from his previous experiences. Finally settled in his flat at Neuilly, he began his legitimate mission objectives, while also surreptitiously planning his Brossolette operation.

Morale among the resistance had sunk again. That hardly surprised Forest, but it had less to do with the arrest of Brossolette and more to do with the lack of arms being dropped from England. There had been no new supplies in months and this had led to feelings of despondency and discouragement. How could a resistance movement remain active without the necessary weapons and money to fuel them? Forest fell into the consolation role, telling his comrades about his meeting with Churchill and the prime minister’s promise for 200 planes a month to be sent on missions to France. He had no idea if SOE would stand by such orders, but he had to give his followers some hope and, at least for the time being, they were satisfied that things would improve.

That is, all but the communists were satisfied. They had other grievances to air to Forest. Why were their operators, despite being well trained and efficient, not being allowed to work on reception committees? Biting his tongue over the communists’ refusal to work with SOE yet expecting everything in return, he put them in touch with some of his colleagues so that they might share in the supplies. More than ever, in this tense political minefield, he missed the cool composure and sour wit of Brossolette, who was so able to cut through all this nonsense.

For a new mission Forest needed a new identity. In fact he had several, but his most comprehensive, the one that would hopefully stand up to Gestapo inspection, was that of Squadron-Leader Dodkin. SOE always put a great deal of energy into cover stories, knowing that they could often be the key to a man’s success or failure in the field. It was always advisable that an agent take on an identity he was familiar with – there was no point pretending to be a dentist when in real life the operator was a greengrocer, that would only lead to complications and blown cover at some point – so it was logical for Forest’s new identity to be an RAF man.

He borrowed his cover from an actual living person. Squadron-Leader Dodkin was on the operational flying list, however he had been grounded permanently and there was no way he could end up back over France, but the Germans did not know that. So Forest spent several hours with Dodkin learning his life history, picking up his mannerisms and any useful titbits of information that would turn him into a believable replica. It was not common practice for agents to swap identity with a real person, but as Forest pointed out, if he was arrested the only way he could avoid torture and interrogation was by claiming that he was in uniform and thus had to be treated as a prisoner of war rather than a spy. This was a very complicated point in the regulations of war. In general terms, if a man was arrested in his military uniform he should automatically be deemed a prisoner of war and thus would forego the appalling treatment meted out to supposed spies. He could also not just ‘vanish’, and the Red Cross would have to be informed of his presence. It was a loophole in the rules of warfare that the Gestapo were constantly trying to outmanoeuvre.

Though unorthodox, the switch was accepted and new identity discs in the name of Dodkin were created for Forest.

Alongside his Dodkin persona he also had papers in the name of a French engineer. These were slightly more dangerous as Forest was no engineer and would not be able to stand up to detailed interrogation, but they gave him the advantage of being able to move freely without suspicion.

In between his official duties Forest made enquiries after Brossolette. Early news was promising: he was being held in Rennes prison, still under the identity of Paul Boutet. Brossolette was using all his ingenuity to orchestrate his own escape and had bribed a guard to pass messages out of the prison. Maud was passing messages back, hidden in his laundry and had visited him under the guise of being his mistress. Brossolette was optimistic and had begun requesting materials to aid his escape, including saws and chloroform, and was working on developing a clear mental map of the prison. Forest realised that he had some breathing space and decided to lay his plans with infinite care.

He first visited Rennes in March to reconnoitre the prison and assess his options. His initial thought was to arrange for Brossolette to be transferred to a different prison in the south of France on trumped-up charges. He even spent time with a lawyer in the resistance to discuss the possibility. During Brossolette’s transfer, the plan would be to attack his escort and free him, but a host of problems quickly presented themselves. The most significant was that too many people would have to be made aware of Brossolette’s real identity and there was no way of including Bollaert in the transfer, so he would have to be left behind.

Having to think again about his plan, Forest visited the outskirts of the prison to gain inspiration. Almost opposite the main gates of the building was a grocer’s shop. The grocer was a member of the resistance and from his vantage point he had an unparalleled opportunity to spy on the prison. He also numbered most of the guards and officials (French and German) among his customers. Idle talk in his shop had given the grocer an incredible understanding of the workings of the prison, which he now shared with Forest. He explained that the majority of the prison was now in German hands and only a few cells remained free for French use. The main gate was the most heavily guarded, but all entrances were kept closed and watched by a sentry armed with a light machine gun. A direct line from the guard room of the prison ran to the local SS barracks no more than 600yds away, so the slightest sign of trouble would have a German division hurrying to the prison.

Forest spent some time discovering the route of the telephone line and working out the easiest location for it to be cut, but even without SS assistance the force within the prison would be too formidable for a frontal attack to have a good chance of succeeding. Subterfuge was needed. Forest hit on the idea of dressing three resistance members as personnel of the German SD division (an intelligence division) and having them present false papers to the guards ordering the transfer of Brossolette and Bollaert. The normal course of events would be for the guard who received the order to double-check it with the Gestapo before releasing the prisoners. To do this he would have to use the phone in the guardroom. His visitors would, naturally, accompany him. But once in the guardroom he would be overpowered before the call could be made.

The best German speaker among the pretend SD men would then return to the gate and ask for it to be opened so that his car could enter, and passers-by would not witness the transfer. The driver would ensure that once his car was inside, it was positioned in such a way that the guard could not close the gates. The remaining SD impersonators would enter the prison proper with the corporal of the guard who would release the prisoners to them. If he became suspicious he could be persuaded at the barrel of a gun to continue to cooperate. Once the prisoners were out of their cells and in the car they would be driven a short distance and then transferred to a different vehicle and taken to a safe house. The original car would be driven south, leaving a clear trail to fool pursuers.

It was an audacious and complicated scheme, with a lot that could go wrong, but it seemed the best plan to secure Brossolette’s safety. Even so, it could not be implemented until a number of elements had been brought together, not least the finding of resistance members who spoke German without an accent and were fluent enough to pass as SD men. Forest returned to Paris, leaving the details in the hands of trusted colleagues, and continued his official Asymptote work. He was feeling optimistic and buoyant. His early dread about the mission had faded and he was thrilled to be back in the action.

He did have other thoughts on his mind than just restoring resistance morale, however. He asked Jose Dupuis if she could contact his estranged wife and request that at a pre-arranged time his daughters would be standing in the window of their apartment, so he might walk past and get a brief glimpse of them. The request was flatly turned down.

Lillian Yeo-Thomas’ blunt refusal to let her husband see their girls may seem petty, but there was more behind her motives than was known to Forest. At the time of his request his eldest daughter Evelyn was gravely ill with meningitis and on 18 March 1944 she died. Jose Dupuis discovered Evelyn’s illness when she paid a visit to Forest’s father, who had just received a telegram informing him. Dupuis made the difficult decision to say nothing to Forest, fearful that if she did he would forget his own security and try to see Evelyn either at home or at the hospital, dangerously exposing himself. The guilt that Dupuis felt at deceiving her closest friend was only made worse by the knowledge that soon she would also be leaving him. The Gestapo were finally catching up with Dupuis and Forest instructed her to leave Paris immediately. She did so, unaware that the calamity she dreaded was about to fall upon Forest.

Meanwhile in Rennes, German ignorance of Brossolette’s identity proved more fleeting than the resistance had hoped. The discovery was once again caused by a failure by Sophie and Baudet to encode a message sent to London via Spain. The message outlined Brossolette and Bollaert’s arrest and while it used codenames for the two men it was not exactly difficult for the Abwehr to work out its significance when they intercepted the courier entrusted with it.