Page 24 of A Call to Home (Women of the Resistance #3)
Petrovo Poljie
August 1943
The news that the British mission was to be reinforced was warmly welcomed by Tito and his Staff as proof that they were now recognised as a fighting force worthy of support. There had been several more air drops of supplies, which were also welcome, although sometimes the contents of the containers were a disappointment. One of them was full of remedies for malaria, although the disease was unknown in Yugoslavia, while another contained rubber boots, which would have been very useful except that when they were unpacked it was discovered they were all for the left foot.
Captain Deakin came to Tito with a suggestion. ‘These air drops are becoming so successful that I think it would be good to make a bit of a celebration for the next one. The locals are obviously very curious about them. We could invite them to watch.’
Tito was always ready to agree to anything that would reinforce to the local population that the Partisans had powerful allies, so he agreed.
On the appointed night the signal fires were lit and an excited circle of local villagers in their colourful costumes waited. The plane appeared, flying much too low, and the parachutes on the containers had no time to open, so they crashed to the ground. Fortunately, they did not hit any of the spectators, but it was decided not to repeat the experiment.
Before the arrival of the new British officers Deakin sought Alix out.
‘I’ve no reason to think these new men speak Serbo-Croat,’ he said, ‘and I don’t know if they speak French or German. Would you be prepared to act as interpreter, especially when they are with Tito?’
Alix agreed readily. She was already functioning unofficially in that capacity for some of the other British arrivals.
On the night of August 15th, a reception committee gathered at the appointed location, near the little village of Oklinak. The setting of the signal fires and the exchange of signal lights was almost routine now and the Halifax bomber appeared right on schedule. Two parachutes blossomed, with the figures of men just visible beneath them.
Deakin was standing with Alix and Steve. ‘That one is coming down bloody fast,’ he commented. ‘And the guy under it hasn’t got his feet together. Hasn’t he done his parachute training?’
The visitor landed heavily. The men assigned to help him soon had his parachute under control and freed him from the harness. He came to join them, limping but otherwise unhurt, and saluted Deakin.
‘Flight Lieutenant Syers reporting for duty, sir.’
‘Are you all right?’ Deakin asked.
‘Think I may have sprained my ankle, sir,’ the young man said.
The second man had just reached them. ‘Well, I didnae expect to have my first patient quite so soon,’ he remarked. ‘Ian Mckenzie, Major, Army Medical Corps.’
‘Well, you are both very welcome,’ Deakin told them. He gestured to Dr Nikolis to come forward and turned to Alix. ‘Please introduce these two.’
Alix did as he asked and the two doctors shook hands warmly. ‘What branch of medicine is your speciality?’ Nikolis asked.
‘I am a surgeon,’ was the answer.
‘Then you are doubly welcome,’ Nikolis said. ‘So many of our casualties require surgery.’
‘Let us get back to camp,’ Deakin said. ‘You must be tired and hungry. In the morning I’ll introduce you to General Tito.’
As they started back Deakin beckoned to Steve. ‘You and Syers will have a lot to talk about. He looks as if he could do with some help getting back to camp.’
‘Sure,’ Steve agreed. ‘Here, buddy, lean on me. My name’s Steve, by the way.’
He drew Syers’ arm across his shoulder and Alix followed, listening with amusement to their conversation.
‘Your English is very good,’ the young man said. ‘Where did you learn it?’
Steve chuckled. ‘At my mother’s knee, back in Fairbanks, Alaska.’
‘Alaska? That’s in America, isn’t it?’
‘Sure is.’
‘So you’re American?’
‘Right first time.’
‘Why did the captain say we’d have a lot to talk about?’
‘Because I’m RAF, like you.’
‘You’re American, but you’re in the RAF. What are you doing here?’
‘It’s a long story. I’ll tell you some other time.’
Next morning the newcomers were introduced to Tito and Major Mckenzie was invited to dine with him that evening. Alix translated as Tito recounted the efforts that had been made to rescue the wounded of the Central Hospital from Piva. Over the weeks since their escape from Montenegro stories had reached them of how the Germans had dealt with those who were left behind. The men and women of the Second Division, apart from those few who had managed to break out, had been systematically rounded up and shot and then the Germans, with the help of local informers, had sought out the caves where the wounded had been hidden and exterminated them, together with the nurses who had volunteered to stay with them.
The surgeon’s expression grew graver as the story progressed. When it was finished, he said, ‘When this war is over I pray that the men who ordered that slaughter will be brought to justice for their inhumanity. Meanwhile, we must do all we can for those still with us.’
Two days later the reception committee was again assembled at the dropping zone to receive two more parachutists. One was immediately introduced as Dr Mckenzie’s orderly. The other dropped a little further away and when he strode into view Deakin let out a cry of delight.
‘Basil Davidson, as I live and breathe!’
The newcomer laughed and punched him on the shoulder. ‘Told you I’d make it one day.’
‘So they let you out? No more being chained to a desk?’
‘At last. It’s been long enough coming. How are things here?’
‘Rubbing along nicely. Have you come to join us?’
‘No. I’m just passing through, on my way to the Danube. Plenty of work to do there.’
Alix, listening, edged closer. If these two knew each other presumably they had both been with the Balkan Desk in Cairo. Deakin noticed her and beckoned her forward.
‘Basil, do you recognise this young lady?’
Davidson screwed up his eyes to examine her in the light of the fires. ‘Should I?’
‘Take your cap off, Alix,’ Deakin said, and when she had done so he went on, ‘Now, even in this light, can’t you see the resemblance?’
‘Of course!’ Davidson held out his hand. ‘You must be Leonora’s daughter. I’m delighted to meet you at last.’
‘So you know my mother?’ Alix said breathlessly. ‘Have you seen her recently?’
‘About four hours ago, when she waved us off.’
‘How is she?’
‘Very well. She told me to give you her love.’
‘Oh, thank you!’ Alix suddenly found it difficult to breathe. ‘Thank you so much!’
Deakin said, ‘Let’s get back to camp. I’ll introduce you to Tito in the morning.’ He looked at Alix. ‘You won’t need to translate for this chap. He speaks fluent Serbo-Croat.’
‘You translate for Tito?’ Davidson asked.
‘Yes, when required,’ she said. ‘I’m his secretary.’
Deakin gave a chuckle. ‘Don’t be fooled into thinking she spends all her time making notes and writing memos. This girl has blown up seven bridges since I’ve known her, and more before that.’
Davidson looked at her. ‘Well, well. I think your mother would be surprised to hear that.’ Then after a moment’s thought he added, ‘On consideration, I’m not sure she would be. I get the impression that sort of courage runs in the family.’
In recent days Alix had heard Tito and Deakin discussing the possibility of an American involvement and Tito was all in favour of the idea. So he was delighted when Deakin informed him that an officer with the OSS was going to be dropped to them. On the twenty-first of the month they gathered again to receive Captain Melvin Benson, who was to join the British mission under Deakin. He was also invited to dine with Tito, who immediately began pressing him to transmit favourable impressions of the Partisans for the American media.
‘I know your people have made a hero of that imposter Mihailovic,’ he said. ‘I’ve heard the reports being publicised of his so-called successes – most of which belonged to us. I need you to counteract that narrative.’
‘I promise you that my superiors will have my complete and unvarnished impressions of your organisation just as soon as I have had time to get to know you all,’ Benson promised.
Tito had good reason to feel aggrieved, not only with the American media but with the British. On several occasions the BBC had broadcast reports of successful Partisan actions and credited them to the Chetniks. After one such broadcast, Deakin sent a message to Cairo suggesting that the BBC should correct the mistake and to everyone’s satisfaction this was done the next day. But the propaganda war of the air was far from over.
There was further excitement over a new message from Cairo. Deakin had suggested that a very senior officer should be dropped to them, to further emphasise the Allies’ commitment to the cause of the Partisans. Now they were told to expect a brigadier within the next few days.
It was about this time that Tito acquired a new dog. There had been a skirmish with a German reconnaissance party and the officer in charge had been killed. The dog, a wolfhound, had run off but one of the Partisans had caught it and brought it to Tito. The animal refused to let anyone near it, growling and baring its teeth, but Tito walked up to it with his hand outstretched and the dog sniffed it and then allowed Tito to rub its head. From then on it attached itself to him with unflinching loyalty. It was another example of his natural affinity with animals. He named it Tigger.
On the twenty-fourth of the month Tito called a conference with his senior commanders, together with Deakin and Benson. While he and most of his troops had been recuperating in the pastures of Petrovo Polje, a chosen detachment had been engaged in clearing out any possible opposition in the nearby city of Jajce.
‘I can inform you,’ Tito said, ‘that Jajce is now secure. We shall move there tomorrow.’
Cairo
Leo was handed the first despatch from Basil Davidson. Having reported his safe arrival and cordial reception he finished ‘can report brave and beautiful daughter in good health’.
The FANY who had decoded the message looked doubtful. ‘I wasn’t sure if I decoded that correctly, but I’ve double checked. I suppose it’s a coded message. Probably means more to you than it does to me.’
Leo swallowed back tears of joy. ‘Oh yes. It does mean something to me. Thank you.’