April 24, 1944
Victoria stared at the other woman standing by the table, her eyes furrowed and her lips pursed ever so slightly to show her resentment towards the person who she held responsible for ruining her uniform. If she registered Victoria's scowl at any level, she didn't let her expression give it away. Instead, she gave a cheery smile to her.
"Oh, actually we already met earlier, although we didn't get a chance to properly introduce ourselves," Catherine Marsh said, in perfect Oxford English, showing no trace of the dialect Victoria had witnessed when they had bumped into each other earlier. "Pleased to meet you, Sergeant." She gave her hand.
"Charmed, I'm sure," Victoria said reservedly, as she straightened her own arm into a handshake. While doing so, she took a moment to check out her opponent in detail. Catherine Marsh was slim and petite, maybe four inches shorter than her. Besides the carefully donned hairdo and burgundy red lipstick, the smaller woman was very lightly made-up, not that she would need any more to enhance her natural beauty. She was wearing a plain saffron yellow rayon dress, following the utility standards with its boxy cut and just below the knee hemline. She'd probably look great in a proper evening dress, slipped into Victoria's mind before she even realized. Blinking her eyes at the errant thought, Victoria let go of the other woman's arm.
"Miss Marsh is from SOE," Colonel Madsen explained as he moved on the other side of the table and cast a glance at the map that was occupying most of the table surface. "What you are about to hear cannot leave this room."
Victoria's brows perked upon her superior officer's statement. This wasn't the first time she'd been shared confidential information, but this sounded top secret.
"As you are aware, the Russkies have the Krauts on the run on the eastern front," Madsen said, pointing at the map where the small tokens representing Russian and German forces ran in a narrow, meandering line from the Baltic Sea to the Black Sea. "Now it's our turn to open up a second front in the west."
This revelation didn't come as a surprise to Victoria. There had been rumors among the staff about opening up a second front in the west since Roosevelt and Churchill had met with Stalin in Tehran last winter. As time had passed from the conference the speculation about the invasion had shifted from whether it would occur to when it would occur. Apparently, the time was now at hand.
"The United States and Great Britain will be launching a joint operation to establish a beach head into occupied France," the Colonel continued the briefing. "To expedite that, OSS and SOE are working together to gather intelligence about the enemy forces in Northern France, and that's where you ladies come in."
Victoria's heart jumped from excitement. Finally, she would get out from behind her desk to see some real action! Of course, operating behind enemy lines meant that she'd be constantly having her life on the line, but frankly, anything was better than being stuck behind that office desk. It looked like that she would need to drag that ditz with her, but maybe Miss Marsh wouldn't be needing much babysitting, being SOE and all. Well, as long as she knows how to take orders, we should be just fine.
"This is 'Operation Chiaroscuro'," Colonel Madsen said, putting file folder on the table. "Your mission is to make contact with a local resistance group and work together with them, aiding them in their operations. In return, they'll aid you to gather intelligence on the German forces at the designated target zone."
"Where is the target zone, Sir?" Victoria asked.
"That is need to know at this point," Madsen said curtly. "You'll be notified about the location about a week before the invasion will commence. For now, you need to know that you will be flown about twenty klicks north-west of Amiens where the resistance group will meet you. Miss Marsh here will be in charge of this operation."
Victoria wasn't able to hide her shock upon hearing that she would be under the command of this ditzy blonde. "Sir, if I may, is it wise to have a civilian-"
"While Miss Marsh is technically a civilian," Madsen interrupted her, "her job grade equals the rank of a Lieutenant-"
"Err, that's 'Leftenant', Sir," the other woman corrected.
"That's what I said," Madsen responded.
"No, Sir, you said 'Lieutenant'. In Britain, the rank is pronounced 'Leftenant'," Miss Marsh explained.
"As I was saying," the Colonel continued, letting his irritation show," while Miss Marsh is technically a civilian, she outranks you with her job grade, therefore she will be in charge of this operation. Will that be a problem, Sergeant?"
"No, Sir, it won't," Victoria said resignedly.
"Good." Colonel Madsen ended the debate. "Personally, I'd preferred to have men carry out this operation, but the resistance group insisted on female operatives only. Apparently, the group is all female."
An all female resistance group? Victoria wondered. Interesting…
"You need to report at the Biggin Hill Airport supply depot at 1900 hours," Madsen continued. "You'll receive your equipment and you will be flown to your destination. Tune in every day at 0830 with the supplied radio transmitter at the set frequency to receive instructions. If you need to send information, someone is on call at the same frequency." He turned to look at the women. "Any questions?"
"No, Sir," both women answered in unison.
"Very well. Use the spare time to study the operation material and getting to know each other. I wish you ladies good luck." Colonel Madsen shook hands with both women and exchanged a salute with Victoria before he dismissed himself.
Once they were alone, Victoria shook off any professional tactfulness she might have had and scowled icily at the smaller woman.
"Look, Sergeant…" Catherine begun, not oblivious to Victoria's hostile attitude towards her. "I know we got off to a rough start, but maybe we-"
"Just stay the hell out of my way and we'll be just dandy - Ma'am," Victoria interrupted her, letting the contempt in her voice show as she began spreading the papers inside the file on the table. Catherine didn't say anything. She walked next to Victoria and took one of the papers in her hand. Her irritation having reached her limit, Victoria grabbed the smaller woman's arm tightly, trying to force her to drop the page.
What happened within the next couple of seconds, Victoria had in no way anticipated nor had she no way to counteract. One moment she was grabbing Catherine's arm, and the next she found herself lying on the floor on her belly with the smaller woman straddling on her back, twisting her arm in a position where it was just on the threshold of being immensely painful. From the corner of her eye Victoria could see Catherine looking down on her with a hint of smugness in her smile.
"Wh- what was that?" Victoria was finally able to stammer once she'd finally recouped from her initial shock and caught her breath.
"That was Jujutsu, my dear," Catherine Marsh sneered, letting her regional accent be heard. "Now be a good lass un Oi met just teach thee sum."
Victoria gasped in disbelief. She'd considered herself to be at least competent in hand-to-hand combat, but now this pint-sized woman had single-handedly bested her before she had even realized.
"You didn't think we'd teach you Yanks all the tricks up in our sleeve, did you now?" the smaller woman said, like she had read Victoria's thoughts. "You'll find that I can take care of myself in the field, and I believe you got what it takes too, otherwise I would've not specifically asked for you as my partner."
Victoria wasn't able to hide her amazement. She asked for me specifically?
"Yes, I read your file," Catherine said, reading Victoria's expression. "You speak French fluently and are an excellent marksman and photographer. You're self-assured and can keep your cool in tight situations. You have some authority issues, though, but I'm positive that it won't be an issue, will it?" She twisted Victoria's arm a fraction of an inch more to emphasize her words.
Tears trickling from agony, Victoria looked at the other woman. There was no trace of the earlier sweetness in her eyes. In its place were assertiveness and determination. Catherine Marsh wasn't someone to be reckoned lightly. "N-no, Ma'am," Victoria finally whimpered.
"Good." The blonde with victory rolls smiled in content, easing her grip on Victoria's arm. "Now, with that out of the way, please call me Kate," she said as she stood up and offered her hand.
Victoria hesitated for a moment, looking at Kate, who was again looking as sweet and bubbly as ever, before accepting the offered hand and letting the smaller woman to pull her back up.
"Victoria," she responded, smirking.
-ooo-
"So, what's the deal with the dialect?" Victoria asked Kate as she cut a piece of cod with the side of her fork from her fish and chips.
They were sitting in a pub, enjoying a late lunch. They had made a quick stop at an army supply depot where Victoria had replaced her soiled uniform to a new one. Victoria was still bitter about having to spend a notable portion of her salary to get her uniform replace, but it couldn't be helped. She had relented somewhat, though, when Kate had offered to buy her lunch.
The woman sitting across the table, nibbling her own portion of fish and chips had really turned out to be something else than her meek appearance suggested. Catherine Marsh, or Kate as she preferred to be called, was a daughter of a small Lancastrian village vicar and his wife. She was the eldest of three siblings and feeling the burden of setting a good example to her two sisters. Her parents, especially her mother, had great expectations of her and Kate, true to her upbringing, had always done her best to meet them. Her mother had expressed her reservation, though, when Kate had been accepted to Oxford University. Surely, a more modest school, closer to home, would've been enough for someone destined to be a clergyman's wife. Kate's father, on the other hand, had expressed pride over his daughter and helped to turn his wife's head around. Therefore, Kate had gone to Oxford.
While there, Kate had come to realize that life had so much more to offer than being a housewife. A whole new world had been at her grasp and she had embraced it with open arms. When Kate had returned home after graduation and announced that she would return to Oxford next fall to start a post-graduate program, she had ended up at odds with her mother who had told her that returning to Oxford was absolutely out of the question. Realizing that nothing would turn her mother's head, Kate had packed her bags and taken the next train back to Oxford. She had already been a couple of months into her post-graduate studies when her mother had suddenly appeared on her doorstep. She had come to try to reason with her daughter one more time. Whatever hopes Mrs. Marsh might've entertained about Kate coming to her senses, had come crumbling down when Kate had told her that she was taking a sabbatical from her studies to take a government job. That had been the last time Kate had spoken to her mother.
Kate had told Victoria that she still kept contact with her father and two sisters, but to her mother she might as well have been dead. While the breakup with her mother saddened Kate, she realized she had to follow her heart. Victoria had suspected that there was more to Kate's rebellion than she let in on but it really wasn't her place to ask.
"What do you mean by that?" Kate asked back as she put her fork on the plate and grabbed her half-pint of apple cider.
"I mean you're an Oxford graduate, majored in mathematics and minored in linguistics..."
"…and also taken courses in political science and psychology," the smaller blonde added.
"Right," Victoria continued, slightly annoyed about the other woman cutting in. "Well, I wouldn't have expected an Oxford graduate to be still speaking in some provincial dialect."
"How many Oxford graduates have you actually met?" Kate asked, an incredulous frown upon her face.
"We had a few doing their post-graduate studies at Smith and you could say they kept their stiff upper lip quite well."
That remark redeemed a sympathetic smile from Kate. "Well, I admit that the wast majority of those who go to Oxford, adopt the formal way of speaking. Even I use it most of the time. Requirements of work, you could say." She took a sip of her cider. "I do, however, want to keep in touch with my roots, so in less informal situations I use gradley owd Lancastrian."
"Whatever rocks your boat…" Victoria said, rolling her eyes slightly. Personally, she couldn't have been happier if she'd have nothing to do with her so called roots ever again. Well, except maybe Nana…
"Anyhow," Kate changed the subject. "What are your thoughts about the mission?"
"My thoughts…" Victoria contemplated as she fiddled a French fry, or a chip as it was called here, with her fork. "It'll be something else than sitting behind the desk day in, day out, that's for sure."
"You need to realize that we'll be operating behind enemy lines, as undercover agents," Kate emphasized. "If we get caught, we'll most likely end up in Dachau or Ravensbrück, if we live that long that is. You are basically here under order, but I do have the option to release you at my convenience." She looked the Victoria straight in the eye. "If you want to back out, now is the time to do it."
Victoria considered the other woman's words for a moment. The prospect of ending up in the hands of the SS or Gestapo certainly didn't seem too appealing. Dying in action might actually be the merciful alternative. "This is what I trained for," she finally said, picking the remaining chip with her fork and putting it into her mouth.
"Excellent!" Kate said as she stood up and looked outside. "Looks like our ride has arrived."
Victoria looked out the window and saw a black Ford that looked like a Model B but was considerably smaller. It would take them to Tempsford, from where they would be flown to occupied France.
"Better not to keep them waiting," she said and emptied her half-pint.
-ooo-
On the outside, the Tempsford Royal Air Force station looked like any other military airfield Victoria had seen during her career. She knew, however that it was the home to two squadrons that were specialized in dropping supplies and agents into occupied Europe for the SOE.
The car ride from London had been uneventful. They had arrived here at early evening, with the setting sun drawing the airplanes as dark silhouettes against the pale, golden hue of the airfield. There had been something picturesque in that sight and Victoria had wished she'd had a camera with her.
Victoria and Kate were standing at the desk of a small supply depot. Behind the desk, there were rows of shelves filled with various supplies. There was a selection of items set on the desk itself in an orderly manner and Victoria suspected that they might be involved with them.
"Evenin', ladies," an RAF sergeant in his late thirties greeted them as he arrived from between the shelves.
"Good evening, Sergeant," Kate responded. "I am Catherine Marsh and this is Sergeant Chase. I believe you have some supplies for us."
"Wite, Miss Marsh. Yeah, we've been expectin' your 'rrival," the sergeant said in rhyming Cockney slang. "I've got your supplies wite 'ere."
Victoria looked again at the items placed on the desk. Most of them there were two of each, like pilot jump suits, pilot helmets with goggles and boots. The sergeant went straight to the items next to those and picked up a submachine gun.
"This is the Sten Mk IIS wif a silencer," he said, holding the gun in his hands. "Effective range abath a 'undred yards, very good at close range combat. It 'as a tendency to jam or accidentally discharge, so ya need ter keep them clean and 'andle wif care. Three magazines ter accompany."
He put the Sten back on the desk and picked up a leather holster containing a pistol and took it out. "Colt 1903 Pocket 'Ammerless, .32 caliber, self-loadin', ait rounds in the magazine. Comes wif a shoulder 'olster."
"The standard issue Type X Parachute," the sergeant continued, putting his hand on the parachute pack.
"We have to parachute?" Victoria asked incredulously.
"No, the chutes are just for backup," Kate reassured her. "There is an opening where we should be able to land.
"Good," Victoria said, the relief apparent on her face. "I did my mandatory jumps in the training but I can't say I enjoyed it."
"Onto the last items," the sergeant said, lifting a small suitcase on the desk. "The Type 3, Mk II standard military spy radio. Which wahn of ya will take this?"
"I'll take it," Kate said determinedly. "What about the last item on my list?"
"Wite, 'ere it is," the sergeant lifted another small suitcase from the floor. "Aw satisfactory?" he asked as he opened it and showed the contents to Kate.
"I let my associate to be the judge of that," Kate answered, looking at Victoria.
Victoria leaned forwards and let out an excited gasp as she saw what was inside. She took one of the items i side and lifted it carefully out of the case. It was a Leica Model III rangefinder camera. It was one of the finest cameras to come out of Germany and second only maybe to the Contax by Zeiss. She remembered that Mark Jefferson had had one back in Blackwell, and she'd asked for one from her parents. Instead, they'd gotten her a Kodak. Realizing its origin, Victoria deducted that the specimen she was holding in her hands must have been from before the war broke out. Included with the camera, there were three different focal length lenses, a viewfinder and a several rolls of film.
"It… will do just nicely," Victoria finally said, putting the camera back in its case.
"Very good, then," the sergeant said as he put a form and a pen on the desk. "If you'll just sign 'ere, I'll sha ya where ya can change into your gear."
-ooo-
Victoria did her best to stay in Kate's pace as they walked to where the airplanes were parked. It was already dark, and with practically nonexistent lighting due to blackout, she had to fumble her way forward. The parachute on her back along with the other equipment didn't help either. The sound of a single radial engine was their only guide as they made their way forward. The source of the noice and their ride to France was a Westland Lysander Mk III, one of the work horses of the 138th Squadron. The Lysanders were specialized in dropping in or picking up agents or Allied aircrew that had been shot down. It was capable of taking off and landing on very short and often improvised airstrips. Its high, reverse tapered wings gave it a bit of ungainly appearance which was only emphasized in the darkness.
"We're going to fly to France in that?" Victoria asked Kate.
"What were you expecting, a Pan Am Clipper?" Kate asked back.
"I don't know. Something that wouldn't be like a sitting duck to German fighters," Victoria said judgingly.
"Trust me, love, this little bird is our best shot at getting to our destination in one piece," a man's voice shouted over the noice of the idling engine.
Victoria squinted her eyes and could see a man wearing a pilot's jumpsuit and a helmet standing next to the plane.
"Lizzie may not look much but she's quite nimble and rugged," the pilot continued. "Flight sergeant Trevor Cade at your service, although everyone calls me Three Flip."
"Three Flip?" Kate asked curiously.
"I made a full three-sixty flip around the pitch during landing back when I was in flight school," he said, chuckling. "Made it out with my two own feet. The plane was totaled, though. Been called Three Flip ever since."
"Somehow, I fail to see how your remark is supposed to help to put us at ease in our concern, Sergeant," Victoria said dryly.
"Ah, don't worry. I've had a clean record ever since. Always brought my plane back in one piece from a mission," Cade reassured. "You'll be in good hands."
"That remains to be seen," Victoria muttered to herself.
"If you'll climb in, we'll get going," Cade said. "It'll be a bit crammed as the rear cockpit wasn't originally designed to carry two passengers, but I'm sure two petite ladies like yourselves will manage."
Victoria and Kate made it to the fixed ladders that lead into the rear cockpit. Victoria climbed the first few steps and cast a glance at their seats. Talking of seats was actually an exaggeration. The two, lightly padded backrests that stuck out from the flat floor, were placed consecutively and very close to each other, making one passenger practically sit in between the legs of the other. The seats were facing towards the tail and the rearmost passenger had to slide their feet within the fuselage.
"I think you need to go in first," Victoria said to Kate and stepped down. The smaller woman climbed the steps and, with an audible sigh, climbed inside the cockpit. Grunting arduously, accompanied by a few restrained cusses, Kate set herself into the small recess.
"All right, your turn!" Kate exclaimed.
Victoria climbed the ladder again and stepped on the piece of plywood that acted as the seat. She carefully spread her legs on both sides of the narrow backrest and sat down. She grabbed the rudimentary seat belt and fastened it around her waist. Her position was cumbersome but it would have to make do.
"You ladies all cozy in there?" Cade asked as he peeked in from the opening. "Now listen, this here is the latch that opens the canopy," he continued pointing at the small lever. "Turn it down clockwise and push the canopy open. If you have to jump, you have to get out first so that she can release the backrest from this latch down here and climb out." He pointed at another lever on the floor within Kate's reach.
Victoria couldn't help but wonder how much of a mere formality these instructions were. Would there actually be enough time for them both to get out of the plane if it really came down to that. She chose not to say anything, though.
"Any questions? No? Well, then, let me get 'er started and we'll be off," Cade said and closed the canopy. A few moments later, Victoria heard him climbing into the cockpit and beginning the start-up procedures. After a few clicks, clanks and buzzes, Victoria heard how the radial engine came to life, its constant howling filling the cockpit.
"You ladies read me all right?" Victoria heard Cade's voice in her helmet speakers. "There's a switch on your right for using the intercom."
Victoria fastened the face mask on her helmet and pressed the switch. "I read you."
"Me too," Kate said.
"Now, try to keep the conversation to a minimum," Cade instructed. "I need to concentrate in navigating, so that we get to the right place."
"Roger that," Kate complied.
Cade had a brief exchange of words with the flight tower, and immediately thereafter, the Bristol Mercury engine revved up and Victoria could feel the plane slowly beginning to crawl forwards on the grass. She glanced outside but there was just darkness and more darkness with only the moon casting a few pale shades of grey into the blackness. The trembling caused by the taxiing on the rough surface quickly smoothened as the small airplane gracefully took off.
They didn't climb very high, though as Cade kept them maybe a hundred feet off the ground, flying just above the treetops. Victoria realized they were taking a tremendous risk flying so low in the dark, but it was necessary in order to avoid them being detected by the German radars.
Pretty soon, they had reached the cliffs of Dover and Victoria was able to admire the moonlight reflecting from the calm surface of the English Channel, or La Manche, as it was called by the French. Kate wasn't so lucky as from her crammed position, she had absolutely no view at all. As the smaller woman was practically sitting on Victoria's lap, she could feel the warmth and smoothness of Kate's legs against her own. A strange sensation washed through Victoria's body upon the realization. Her mind raced hard to get to the bottom of it but it was gone as swiftly as it came. All she could gather was that it wasn't unpleasant.
"All right, ladies, we're over French soil." Cade's voice in her headphones pulled Victoria out of her thoughts. "From now on, things may get a little rough." Victoria cast another glance outside and could see the coasts of Normandy bathing in the moonlight. They were over enemy territory now.
Suddenly, like as if Cade had given them a cue with his remark, a series of explosions in the near vicinity made the whole plane judder. Victoria couldn't help letting out a startled yelp as the blast waves began to bombard the hull.
"Looks like we're getting a warm welcome. Hang on!" Cade shouted into the intercom as the sky around them was filled with flak. He made a hard bank on the left to steer them clear but the blasts seemed to follow them.
"We're going to die!" Victoria screamed in horror as the flak kept rattling the small aircraft. Another blast, right next to them thrilled the plane harder than anything before, throwing it off into a rapid decline. As they plunged down at an accelerating pace, Victoria grabbed Kate into a tight embrace like she was her lifeline. "I don't want to die!"
Author's notes:
Welcome back! Victoria and Kate receive their orders and head for their mission. Thank you for the comments so far! Keep them coming!
Disclaimer: All the dialect mistakes are my own.
