Mrs Henderson's Limp - Cover

Mrs Henderson's Limp

Copyright© 2021 by Iskander

Chapter 2

Laroque-Timbaut, 6th May 1944 – Tulle, 8th June 1944

Days passed with Elise looking after Madame Bernard and assisting in the café. Dominique assured her the watchers were in place, but she would not know who they were, a precaution Elise understood. As a result, she dangled aimlessly between her life in England and a dark, dangerous future, neither able to retreat to safety nor advance into danger; both were beyond her control.

Once a week she met up with her radio to listen out for any messages, but none came. May became June and still no landings.

She woke on 6th June and lay in bed, searching without success for what had wakened her. Then the blaring of a motor bike revving harshly crashed through the morning stillness. Elise listened as it sped away through the village.

Something’s happening.

Elise rushed into her clothes and headed down to the kitchen, finding Dominique there. “We are waiting for confirmation, but I think they’ve landed. There have been messages on the BBC...”

Elise could hear the excitement in Dominique’s voice. Her mouth felt dried: now her work would begin. A minute before eight o’clock, Dominique tuned the radio to the BBC and they crouched over it to hear paratroopers had landed in Normandy.

Dominique tuned it back to a French station and switched off. “I must get to the café to phone Victor. You need to be ready to leave.”

Elise nodded and ran upstairs to pack her things around the spares for the radio. She looked in on Madame Bernard, helping her into her chair by the window and setting her breakfast on the table beside her. Leaving her case in the cupboard beside the stairs, she walked down to the café to join Dominique, keeping her stride normal though she wanted to run the rising tension out of her body.

Dominique stood in the café kitchen when Elise arrived. “Victor was on his way – and the Das Reich HQ in Montauban is, according to my contact, buzzing with activity,”

Victor arrived minutes later with the news that the invasion had been announced on the BBC at nine o’clock.

Elise took a deep breath. “We need to know which the route Das Reich will take – through Brive-la-Gaillarde to Limoges or through Bordeaux. I can’t move until we know which way they are headed.”

Dominique waved her arms excitedly. “You cannot wait – you must be ahead of them.” She stopped, thinking, then looked at Victor and Elise. “They will travel north through Brive-la-Gaillarde. It is a wider road and the coast road through Bordeaux is too easy to attack from the air.”

Elise eyes moved between the two of them, assessing what Dominique had said. They knew this area, she didn’t.

Victor nodded. “I think you are correct.” He turned towards Elise. “We go, now.”

Elise stood in thought – if they were wrong, it would be difficult to catch up to Das Reich on the coastal route. She felt the weight of her responsibilities pressing on her, but she had to decide, now. Her eyes travelled again over Dominique and Victor. “Okay. Brive-la-Gaillarde it is.”

Dominique leaned towards Elise. “Go to the chemist in Tulle and ask for Genevieve. She will give you information and your contact.” She gave Elise a quick hug. “Good luck.”

Elise and Victor walked up to 4 Rue du Bayle, chatting about the weather as they passed the guards at the Mairie. Elise grabbed her suitcase from the cupboard.

Victor shook his head. “Not that. It’s obvious you are leaving; get the bag you used before.”

Elise pulled the shopping bag from under the sink and transferred the clothes-wrapped spares for the radio set. She had to leave most of her clothes behind in the suitcase. They walked up through the village towards the woods as if they had no cares in the world. Once in the wood, their pace picked up. On the far side of the wood, the same car as the previous night met them. The driver nodded to Victor and walked off into the woods, his part in the operation complete.

Elise sat in the rear seat nursing her shopping bag of spare parts and the radio set in its crate. The roads they stayed on were narrow and poor, their progress slow as a result. Late in the afternoon, they stopped in the woods outside Sarlat-la-Canéda. Elise’s frustration with their slow progress grew. She wanted to reach Tulle, east of the main route north through Limoges tomorrow. Dominique’s contact would have information for her.

Once they had pulled off the road, Victor disappeared into the village, returning with food, setting it on the bonnet of the car. “Light vehicles from Das Reich have been seen in Cahors.”

Victor’s announcement sent a wave of relief through Elise. Dominique had put them on the correct route: Das Reich was coming this way. But now Elise worried that the forward elements of Das Reich would reach Brive-la-Gaillarde before her.

Victor built a rough sandwich of bread, cheese and rillette, handing it to Elise before constructing one for himself. His eyes flicked up to hers. “We must collect fuel tonight.”

Elise nodded – they needed fuel.

Once darkness fell, they set off, walking along the track towards the village. After a quarter of an hour or so, Victor signalled Elise to stop and they moved off the track. Victor pointed Elise to a position behind a bush and moved to another, further on towards the village. They crouched, listening to the wildlife changing shift as dusk spread darker ink through the woods. Elise pulled out her pistol, laying it on her scarf in front of her. Some minutes later, they heard footsteps approaching. Victor signalled her to be silent and to stay down. She heard muffled clattering of metal against metal ... and then the footsteps retreated.

They waited, listening, stretching their senses, following the sounds of the people as they moved away. Victor signalled Elise to remain and crept forward. Pistol in hand, Elise tracked him as he moved, prepared to support him.

After a minute, Victor reappeared, a large petrol can wrapped in muffling cloth in each hand. “I’ll get the other two.” He set down the cans and disappeared into the gloom, returning with two cans. He gestured Elise to pick up the first two and they started trudging to the car. The handles were narrow and soon started to cut into Elise’s fingers.

“Stop,” she hissed.

Victor put down his cans, watching Elise massaging her hands. He gave her a sympathetic smile and pulled the cloth from around one of the cans, tearing it in half. “Wrap this round the handles, the can won’t clank against your legs.”

They had to stop another couple of times to allow Elise’s hands to recover, but they made it to the car without incident. Victor put three of the cans in the boot and together, in the dim light of Elise’s torch, they poured the contents of the fourth into the tank.

Elise spent another uncomfortable night – perhaps as uncomfortable as in the Halifax – sleeping in the rear seat of the car.

As dawn broke, they ate the remains of the food and set off. Keeping to minor roads, they reached the main road between Cahors and Brive-la-Gaillarde before noon. Victor pulled off to the side and went forward to survey the road. After about ten minutes he returned.

“Can you drive this car?”

Elise nodded. “Of course.”

“We’ll go to the bend ahead and stop the car. I’ll go forward and, when I’m sure there is no traffic, I’ll wave you forward.” He looked ahead, thinking of how best to do this. “Drive slow enough for me to jump on the running-board and then go straight across the main road and keep driving until we get round a bend in the side road.”

“Okay.”

“Get in the driver’s seat and drive up to the bend ahead.”

Elise sat in the driver’s seat: it felt odd to be on the left-hand side of the car. Victor pointed out the controls and Elise started the car and they moved down to the bend.

“Stop here and turn off the engine.”

Victor got out and stood listening to the quiet of the countryside. Satisfied at the normal sounds, he walked along the side of the road towards the intersection. Elise moved a yard ahead of the car to keep him in view. Victor stood, listening, searching up and down the road for signs of traffic. She saw him retreat into the bushes, waving to her to hide. A farm truck lumbered past, sagging under its load. Elise moved forward again, watching Victor surveying the road. After a minute, he waved her forward.

She dashed to the car and set off, slowing as she reached Victor. He jumped onto the running board.

Allez. Vite, vite.

Elise accelerated across the road – a quick glance showed no traffic in both directions – and headed down the side road. Once they rounded a bend and were out of sight of the main road, she stopped.

“Well done. No-one saw us.” Victor motioned her from driver’s seat and they refuelled the car. Elise resumed her seat beside her radio whilst Victor sat consulting his map.

They skirted south of Brive-la-Gaillarde, arriving in hills above Tulle late in the afternoon. Victor pulled off the road on to a track and as soon as they stopped, they could hear gunfire. They shared a startled look.

“Stay here. I’ll investigate.”

Elise nodded, watching Victor fade into the undergrowth.

Where was the firing coming from?

She moved from the car. Most firing seemed to be coming from the town, but some came from further along this ridge above the town. She heard a noise, Victor returning and turned. Two men stood with their rifles levelled at her.

The taller man jerked his rifle upwards. “Hands up. Who are you?”

Elise raised her hands. Each man wore an FTP armband.

Communist partisans.

“I am an ally, on an important mission.” She smiled, doing her best to seem innocuous.

The older of the two men walked over to the car cradling his rifle under his arm. He peered inside and opened the boot. “You have a lot of petrol.”

Elise didn’t answer. He opened the rear door and looked at the crate holding Elise’s radio set.

His companion read the anxiety on Elise’s face and threatened with his rifle. “Go on, open it,” he told his companion.

He gestured at Elise. “You, come and get it.” He stepped away, pointing his rifle at Elise.

Elise pursed her lips.

The men stiffened as another voice joined the conversation from behind them: Victor. “Lower the rifles, mes amis.” The partisans shared a glance. “Lower the rifles and lay them on the ground.”

Neither partisan moved.

“Now.” Victor’s voice carried the crack of command.

The two men crouched and laid their rifles on the ground.

“Well done. Now walk to the front of the car and place both hands on the bonnet.”

They complied and Victor emerged from the bushes, pistol in hand. “Pick up the rifles, Elise, and put them against the tree over there.”

Elise leaned one against the tree but keeping one – a standard British army Lee Enfield. She had trained to use this. She moved to keep the two partisans covered and Victor out of her line of fire.

Victor nodded at her and walked round behind the two partisans, checking them for weapons, finding nothing.

He pocketed his pistol and gestured Elise to lower the rifle.

“Gentlemen, Madame and I are allies, on an important and secret mission to help the liberation of France.” He smiled ironically. “I apologise for disarming you, but I had to prevent an unfortunate accident.”

The partisans shared a confused – and relieved – glance.

Victor’s face became serious. “What is going on in Tulle?”

“We are liberating the town from the Boche.” The young partisan’s voice shone with pride.

Elise recalled her briefing and sighed.

Did they think the Nazis would ignore this?

Victor glanced at Elise. “I will go with this one to find their commander. You stay here with the other.”

Elise nodded.

“Gentlemen, please collect your rifles.”

Elise flicked the rifle in her hands to safe and handed it to the older partisan. The younger one gathered his from the tree, flicking it to safe after a glance from his companion. Elise shuddered – her arms instructor would have bellowed at her for forgetting to safe the weapon.

Victor smiled at the older man. “I am Victor. My companion is Elise. And you are?”

The two partisans shared a glance. The older one shrugged. “I am Pierre and that,” he nodded towards his colleague, “is Jean-Claude.”

“Well, Pierre, let’s go and talk to your commander.”

Elise and Jean-Claude remained standing, then Elise moved across to a fallen log and sat down. Jean-Claude tried to engage her in conversation, which Elise shut down. She did not want to share anything that could end up in the hands of the Gestapo, SS or SD if things went badly in Tulle.

After about twenty minutes, Victor returned with Pierre. “We’re going to their HQ. Get in the car.”

Elise got in beside her radio. Jean-Claude climbed in, lifting the radio crate. Elise took it to rest on her legs. Pierre sat beside Victor, giving directions. The crate made Elise’s thighs sore by the time they reached a barn in the woods overlooking the town. Pierre and Jean-Claude got out. After talking to one of the men outside the barn, they set off at a run, rifles cradled in their arms.

The man then ambled across to the car. “We have the remaining Boches surrounded. It will soon be over.” He looked at Elise. “Then you may continue your mission.”

Elise glanced meaningfully at Victor.

Should she tell this man what she knew?

She sent Victor a questioning look. His response was a tiny shrug. Elise made a decision. “The Panzer division, Das Reich, is coming up the road to Brive-la-Gaillarde. Some light vehicles were seen in Cahors yesterday.

The man shrugged. “They have bigger fish to fry than chasing Maquis though the woods. They will be rushing north to their deaths at the hands of the Americans and British.”

Elise’s eyes narrowed in surprise at his off-hand attitude. “I hope they are – for the sake of the people in the town.” She knew that actions by the Maquis had caused retaliatory actions against civilians.

The fighting had not finished by nightfall and continued in two areas into the afternoon of the following day. Elise became increasingly worried as she was out of touch with her network and England. After an argument with the FTP commander, Elise walked down into the town in the late afternoon, leaving Victor to guard the car and her radio. She made her way to the Pharmacie and stood a short distance away to watch. Seeing nothing concerning, she walked in.

“How may I help you?” A woman stood behind the counter.

“I’m looking for Genevieve.”

Elise saw a flicker pass across the woman’s face. “And who sent you?”

“Madame Berger.”

She fiddled with something under the counter, her hand reappearing with a pistol. “And you are?”

“Chardonnet.”

The woman blinked and lowered the pistol. “My apologies. I am Genevieve.” She moved to the shop door, locking it.

Elise nodded. “I think you have information for me?”

Genevieve opened the door behind the counter and led Elise into the house.

“I have been taking orders for out-of-town farmers.” She smiled, picking up a bound booklet from beside the phone and opened it, pointing to the recent, neat entries.

Elise read over them and then smiled. “Code?”

“Indeed.” Genevieve explained, running down the entries.

“ ... and six Panzers and ten half-tracks arrived in Brive-la-Gaillarde at two o’clock.”

Elise’s eyes narrowed. “And they are still there?”

Genevieve shook her head, unconcerned. “No, they left after about an hour.”

Elise’s stomach lurched. She stared at the woman. They could be headed anywhere and they could arrive in Tulle this evening – the Germans would have heard about Tulle. But her mission must take precedence.

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