Epilogue

Tulle, August – London, December 1945

For the rest of June and all of July, Elise’s days were spent in a self-imposed purgatory as she worked through the rehabilitation exercises. Once a week, the French surgeon came to check on her. By the first week of July, his observations were full of smiles at Elise’s progress. At the end of July, the hospital wanted her bed. Through a nurse, she contacted “the girl at the Pharmacie” – Elise did not know her real name. Genevieve – Marie – visited her in hospital and, with poor grace after the slaps, accepted her return to the house, where Elise stayed, helping in the shop. After a week, she walked up into the woods leaning on a cane, watching for followers. Opening the crate, she found no note from Victor. Water and a leaking battery had wrecked the radio. She retrieved her pistol with its patina of rust but reburied the useless radio. The walk down to the town drained her resources and her knee blazed with pain. Careful enquiries about Victor drew a complete blank.

By the time the Americans and the Free French swept north in August, Elise no longer used a stick. She barely limped as she walked into the US Headquarters the day after they arrived. She demanded to speak to army intelligence. Perhaps because of her attitude, they kept her waiting for an hour before she met with a captain. She related the parts of her story she deemed safe and needful to secure passage home. The captain seemed bored – until she mentioned that she had witnessed the hangings. That moved her up the tree and she retold her story to a lieutenant colonel. Two days later, having written a detailed report of what she saw, she flew to England.

She arrived at the SOE HQ in London the following day, causing something of a stir. With no news, the SOE had aborted her mission and listed her as “missing, presumed killed”, returning her box of personal effects to her mother. After an uncomfortable two days with her mother in north London, she returned to the SOE, demanding an assignment. It was her responsibility to help secure her country – and the world – against the dictators and the deranged philosophies that unleashed the terrors she had seen in Tulle.

By the end of 1945, she had parlayed her language skills and SOE experience into a position in counterintelligence, where her ruthless competence and cold eyes struck fear into all who dealt with her, friend and foe alike.