Page 13 of A Call to Home (Women of the Resistance #3)

Derna, North Africa

May 25th, 1943

‘Well, we’re loaded and ready,’ Deakin said. ‘But Tito isn’t going to be happy about the absence of explosives.’

Leo had gone along with the team as far as the airfield in her usual role as liaison officer. ‘I suppose it does make sense. After all, you don’t know anything about the situation, or the people involved.’

‘Well, I don’t see how we can expect them to sabotage the railways if we don’t give them the means to do it,’ Deakin responded. ‘Thank god we are at least taking medical supplies.’

Leo sighed. ‘Ours is not to reason why…’

One of the pilots of the Dakota that had been allocated to transport them came over. He and his co-pilot were both New Zealanders and both, to Leo’s eyes, incredibly young, but they were apparently happy with the mission they had been given and eager to get on with it.

‘We’re just about ready, but I’m afraid the weather forecast’s not looking good.’

‘It’s best we leave tonight, if possible,’ Deakin told him. ‘We’ve had a signal saying we must not leave later because the Germans are trying to advance with strong forces. It does add that in the event of bad weather they will wait another night, but it’s possible they won’t be able to.’

The telephone rang in the despatcher’s office and a voice called Leo’s name. She went to take the call and came back in a simmering fury. ‘I’ve just had last-minute instructions from Cairo. Apparently, someone in London has decided you are not to take the medical supplies.’

‘What?’ Deakin stared at her. ‘I don’t believe this.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Leo said. ‘I know it’s crazy but that is the order.’

‘But they are already loaded,’ the pilot objected.

‘Then I’m afraid they will have to be unloaded,’ she said.

‘So, they are sending us to meet possible allies completely empty handed?’ Deakin asked. ‘What sort of welcome do they expect us to get?’

Leo could only shrug helplessly. ‘Apparently the top brass in London still haven’t made up their minds who we should be supporting and they don’t want to upset the Yugoslav government in exile.’

The medical equipment was unloaded. That done, the members of Operation Typical prepared to board the plane. Leo shook hands with each of them with a lump in her throat. She took Deakin’s hand last.

‘Will you keep an eye out for my daughter?’

‘Of course. What’s her name?’

‘It’s Alix – Alexandra. You’ll recognise her. Her hair is the same colour as mine.’

He smiled briefly. ‘That shouldn’t be hard to spot.’

Leo swallowed tears. ‘If you see her, please give her my love.’

‘Of course I will.’

‘Good luck,’ she murmured. ‘Take care.’

She kissed him on the cheek, and he turned away and climbed into the plane.

Leo had been given a room in the hut accommodating the WAAFs who operated the radio communications equipment, but she slept little that night, imagining the four men dropping into the darkness, which shrouded friends and enemies alike. By dawn she was up, waiting for the Dakota to return. It landed only a little behind schedule and she watched it taxi back to the despatch hut. The doors opened and, to her dismay, the four members of Typical climbed out.

‘What happened?’ she asked Deakin. ‘What went wrong?’

‘Weather,’ he replied succinctly. ‘We ran into a terrific electrical storm just after we crossed the coast. Knocked us right off course. There was no alternative but to abort the mission.’

‘I’m so sorry,’ she responded. ‘It’s awful when you were all geared up for it. Did you have a rotten flight back?’

‘Depends how you look at it,’ he said. ‘The only way the crew could cope was by flying above the weather. They have oxygen masks but we don’t. For some of the time we were all unconscious.’

The two pilots climbed out of the cockpit. ‘Sorry about that, old chap,’ one said. ‘We’ll try again tomorrow – if the weather permits.’

For two days they huddled in their tents while thunder growled and lightning rent the sky.

‘I can’t stop thinking about those poor fellows waiting for us, out there in the cold and the dark, straining their ears for the sound of a plane,’ Deakin confided as he and Leo met in the mess. ‘They must be wondering if we are ever going to turn up.’

Mount Durmitor, Montenegro

‘Nikola, I am putting you and the Escort Battalion in charge of receiving our visitors,’ Tito said. ‘They will drop onto this small plateau, here,’ he indicated a point on the map spread on his table. ‘The agreed signal is a St Andrew’s cross of fires, like this.’ He marked the symbol on the map. ‘Your men will gather enough brush wood to make fires big enough to be seen from the sky but you must not light them until you hear the plane overhead. The Germans are close and if they see the fires they will immediately head for the area. Or they may set up fires of their own nearby so that our visitors drop into their arms instead of ours. You understand?’

‘Yes, comrade.’

‘If the plane does not appear you must dismantle the fires and hide the wood until the next night.’

‘How many nights can we wait?’ Nikola asked. ‘As you said, the enemy is very close.’

‘Until it is impossible to wait any longer,’ Tito replied. ‘Or until we are sure that they are not coming.’

Nikola and his troops set off. Watching them leave, Alix was struck by how young they were. At the beginning of the war many of the troops had been recruited from her father’s estate, men she knew personally, but over the years of fighting many had been killed and their numbers had been made up by new recruits and as time passed those recruits had become younger and younger. Now most of them were little more than boys.

Then began the longest, most tense wait that Alix could ever remember. Tito had dispersed his troops to cover all the possible points at which the enemy might break through into their rocky fastness and those in the camp could hear an almost constant racket of small arms fire mingled with louder explosions, and as the hours passed the noises grew closer. Night came, and with it the storm.

‘They won’t attempt to come tonight,’ Tito said.

All through the day the sounds of battle grew nearer and that night the weather was no better.

‘We can wait one more day,’ Tito said. ‘After that we must move before we are overrun. The main body of the army must start moving today.’

Djilas returned, bringing with him the patients and staff of the Central Hospital; a long column of men on stretchers and walking wounded, with mules carrying what remained of their supplies of food and equipment.

The next night was clear, though still windy. They strained their ears for the sound of a plane, but the wind and the noise of gunfire obscured any others.

Dawn came, with no sign of the expected guests. Tito called his officers together. They sat in a circle on fallen logs while some of the women passed round bowls of soup. Someone had managed to shoot a chamois up on the hills the previous day. The meat was almost too tough to chew but boiled up with herbs picked on the same hillside it made a tolerable broth and it was more than welcome, as they had been living on dry bread with a little olive oil for the last two days.

‘I do not know if our visitors arrived last night or not,’ Tito began. ‘So far, I have heard nothing. The remaining troops must begin their withdrawal over Mount Vucevo at once. We shall wait here with the rear guard until Nikola brings word whether there was a parachute drop last night. Then, whether the newcomers are with him or not, we shall follow.’

The officers were discussing the precise logistics of the move when a sentry called a challenge and a party of men came into the clearing. Nikola was in the lead, surrounded by a gaggle of excited boys, and in the middle of the group were four men in British uniforms. Tito rose to his feet and stepped forward. As usual, his uniform bore no badges of rank, but his bearing was enough. The four strangers came to attention and saluted.

One of them offered his hand. ‘William Deakin, Captain, Oxfordshire Hussars.’

Tito took his hand in a warm grip. ‘Welcome. I am Tito.’

The other three visitors introduced themselves in a similar manner.

The one called Stuart said, ‘My colleague apologises for the fact that he does not speak Serbo-Croat. He does speak German. Can we converse in that language?’

‘Certainly,’ Tito responded. ‘I have lived in Germany, so that will not be a problem.’

‘He’s happy to speak German,’ Stuart said to Deakin in English.

Deakin said, ‘Thank you.’ He continued in German, ‘My colleagues and I have been sent by the British Commander in Chief in the Middle East. I am to tell you that the Allies are about to go on the offensive and we regard it as desirable that we should co-operate with the Partisans. In particular, I am asked to enlist your help in sabotaging enemy lines of communication. We also have instructions to report on the military situation here.’

‘You have arrived at a very grave moment,’ Tito responded. ‘The Germans have encircled us here and are determined to wipe us out. There is no food and no cover from enemy fire. We have made plans to break out to the north-west and the main army is already on the move. We have waited here for you, but now the units that have been guarding your landing site are being withdrawn. We urgently need air support. As to the sabotage operations you mention, with the necessary explosives we can make concerted attacks on the railways and roads carrying German troops and supplies southwards, but this is something to be discussed at a later date.’

The visitors were seated in the circle and the customary welcome offering of bread and slivovitz was passed round. Tito introduced the members of the Supreme Council, who welcomed them warmly, but Alix noticed that he did not introduce her. This confirmed her suspicion that he wanted the British officers to remain unaware that she spoke and understood English.

‘Tell me,’ Tito asked, ‘why has it taken so long for the British to send representatives to us? Is it because you blame us for the death of the last agent you sent here, the man called Atherton?’

Alix saw that Deakin was disconcerted by the suggestion. ‘No!’ he said. ‘No one in Cairo believed that. But these are all issues that we can discuss later.’

‘And the medical supplies?’ Rankovic asked.

Deakin looked even more uncomfortable. ‘It was impossible to bring them on this flight. But I assure you there will be others, once we can establish a secure dropping ground.’

Looks were exchanged round the circle and Alix sensed that the suspicion with which some of the Staff viewed these newcomers had only been enhanced.

Tito’s attitude, however, remained genial. ‘You are most welcome. At last the outside world has recognised the enormous struggle that is going on here, and its importance to the outcome of the war for all of us. Now, a cabin has been prepared for you down by the lake. The canisters containing your stores and equipment are being recovered from where they landed and will be brought to you. You must rest while you can. As soon as it is dark, we must move. The enemy is all round us and already my main troops are attempting to force a way through the ring. We are the rear guard and have waited behind for you.’

He turned to Nikola. ‘Give these guests an escort from among your men. They must be protected at all costs.’