After months of research, planning and training, Operation “Rabelais” was initiated at 0700 hours. I infiltrated into Nazi occupied France in August of 1944. I parachuted down into France and unfolded the miniature motorcycle inside my parachute container, called a “Wellbike.” I quickly packed up my parachute and left the drop zone. My destination was a French Resistance base in southern France. Other agents had arranged my arrival and contacts. At the base, I was acquainted with several commanders and leaders. I was shown my work station and I wasted no time in setting up my communication unit. My mission was to provide intelligence information to Algiers, coordinate Resistance forces and ensure the safe arrival of airborne troops. After supplying the Resistance with a detailed list of instructions, I set off for the local government building. I was a Nazi supporter that was transferring to a new branch after my recent promotion. I spent several weeks there gathering detailed information about supplies, German maps, plans, reports and the itineraries of important German officers. After I had all the information I needed, I returned to the base to inspect their work. Everything seemed to be going according to plan. However, I was truly naïve to think that things would go smoothly for the entire operation. One of my co-workers had begun to suspect my behavior. He had been following and watching me for several days, thus forcing me to take extra precaution when I carried out my mission. The last piece of information I required before phase one was complete was a map detailing German retreat positions. My co-worker’s suspicion had been increasing despite the extra precautions and it was enough to motivate him to talk to his superior. It just so happened that it was this superior who had the map I needed. Despite having no evidence, he was able to convince his superior to keep the map in his personal briefcase he watched and kept with him at all times. I was forced to make a rash decision and deviate from the initial plan. I had a copy of his schedule – me and his secretary were good friends – and it was simple to find a time when he was alone. Everything went according to plan. It was happened in an instant and I doubt he felt much pain. The only problem was I was seen – by my co-worker. He sounded the alarm. I grabbed the documents, put them into a waterproof case and ran. The exit strategy was an emergency exit route that had been prepared by the agent who had preceded me. I took the underground route to a river and detonated the explosive charges placed on the walls. I swam to the other side of the river, where a Wellbike was buried two feet from the shore. I arrived at the Resistance base just as allied troops began to parachute in. Shortly after I had dismounted my bike, I was greeted by another agent. My part in this operation was over. I had succeeded. I was to take the vehicle waiting for me and drive to a rendezvous point, where I would be picked up. It was up to my replacement agent now to initiate phase two, whose details I am ignorant of. This one operation is arguably the most difficult assignment I had ever been given. I was relieved to finally be going home. Have any of you been faced with seemingly impossible challenges that you still had to rise up to? How did the challenges affect you as a person? Your country? Also, I wonder, have any of you experienced situations like those I was put in?
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I don't think I can compare to the challenges that you had faced in this war. Of course, every day I had to prove myself of what I can do and why I was chosen for this job. I remember the first time I had to operate the teletype radio on the ship. I had training previously but it didn't compare to what I was doing now. At first, it seemed impossible but when I was more focused, I realized that it was not as hard as I imagined it to be. Soon enough, Captain Sawyer even praised me for my work, saying that "you may even be better than your previous counterpart." It might not be as great as a successful operation as you experienced, but it still gave me a sense of self-confidence for all women serving in war. It showed that Canada was emerging as a country of equality between men and women. I have never experienced a similar situation as you were put in, but I admire your bravery and confidence in completing your mission and it sure paid off in the end.
ReplyDeleteAs a nurse I didn't face missions where I had to have a well planned out map and invade enemy territory like yours but the goal of my missions were very clear, to save a person’s life to the best of my ability. When I recruited into the war, everyday was a difficult mission. There be wounded men being transported to the hospital each second and under great pressure, lack of supplies, and high temperatures, I had to care for each soldier and try to keep their lives! These missions were filled with great fear each day, some soldiers would be in such horrible conditions where they were basically “torn apart”, that was very hard to treat. I also had to experience many deaths each second and that was definitely not great on my emotional side. The war was a very hard mission to complete but all I can say was I tried my best.
ReplyDeleteI definatly did not experience situations like the ones you were put in. Those were life threatening, or that suspenseful. Reading about it is like reading a thriller novel. I was certainly never on missions like yours, nor was I ever in a position like yours. My own difficult missions varied from personal problems (dealing with the stress of war) to scrabbling to save a person's life. Although my missions were no where near as hard as yours, I tried my best to complete them to the best of my ability - and in the name of Queen and country.
ReplyDeleteI don’t think that there was really ever a difficult mission I had to face, at least not in comparison to that! As Wren M-L mentioned, I, too, was constantly dedicated to working efficiently and trying to prove to my male counterparts that I was capable and trustworthy. The hardest thing we did as a group was approach our employer to question our wages. The Glasgow strike had just occurred (in1943), where women had protested because they were being paid almost half the salary that men were being paid for doing the same job! We approached our employer, hoping to be successful, but not wanting to create a scene. If we went on strike, our soldiers would suffer and it just wasn’t fair to them. He told us that women did not have as big a responsibility as men did to support the family, so we didn’t need as much money. With enough effort, our wages were improved, but only by as little as 20 cents per week.
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