The Test of Courage: (A Biography of) Michel Thomas (25 page)

BOOK: The Test of Courage: (A Biography of) Michel Thomas
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In the first daytime drop to the plateau, on 25 June 1944, thirty-six American Flying Fortresses dropped eight hundred containers of equipment out of a cloudless sky. Hundreds of multi-coloured chutes fell in Alpine meadows, providing enough new weapons and ammo to equip large numbers of the Vercors army. Three days later an Anglo-American mission - Eucalyptus - was dropped in, comprising two commando units of fifteen men each - one SOE and one OSS (Office of Strategic Services). This was followed by Mission Paquebot, a team of French military construction experts - including a woman - who began to build an airfield capable of receiving heavy weapons. For the first time the
résistants
began to feel they had back-up.

A message came from de Gaulle’s chief of staff in London: ‘Free French fighters of the Interior at Vercors... On D-Day you took up arms and, offering heroic Résistance to all enemy assaults, once again you flew the French flag and the emblem of Liberation over one corner of our French land... Your successes will spread rapidly over our entire territory.’

Despite the drops, the Résistance still needed explosives. A daring daylight raid was planned on the ammunition dump at Fort Murier, which stood on a height above Grenoble. The fortress contained more than fifty tons of explosives kept secure behind high walls and iron gates, guarded by a company of troops belonging to the Vichy Groupes Mobiles de Reserves.

On the morning of the attack nine stolen German trucks, including one that had been converted into an improvised armoured car, set off for Fort Murier carrying fifty fully armed
résistants
. The company was led by a Mercedes flying a German flag but behind came the trucks loaded with the Maquis, wearing Résistance armbands and flying their flag, the Cross of Lorraine. Close to the fortress itself a group of
résistants
cut the telephone wires that connected the fort to the military in Grenoble. A rear guard with a machine gun was left at the crossroads beneath the fort to give the alarm if anyone approached. On arrival, all except one of the trucks were driven into a side road out of view of the fort.

The commander of the assault force, which involved a mix of local commando groups and included Michel, was Aime Recquet. ‘He was one of the tough guys, one of the heroes. If it was a difficult mission I liked to be with him. If there was anything impossible that had to be done, it involved him.’ Recquet’s original plan assumed that the guards would automatically open the gates to allow a German military vehicle to enter, but in this he was to be disillusioned. They were stopped and told that a new rule forbade any vehicles from entering the armoury without an order signed by the commander of the Groupes Mobiles, and countersigned by a German officer of equivalent rank.

Another, improvised plan had to be adopted. Recquet knew the area around the fort intimately and sent a large group of commandos to climb the cliff behind the armoury overlooking the courtyard. Once in position they could draw a bead on the GMR guards, who were exposed and vulnerable. Most of the other troops remained inside the brick barracks. Three commandos with sub-machine guns slid as close as possible to the wall opposite the entrance with orders to create a distraction if given the signal; another group hid in the trees opposite the main entrance.

Recquet walked alone to the gate. Challenged by the guard through a loophole, he demanded to see the commander, saying he had a message from the chief of artillery in Grenoble. The commander came out of the barracks to talk to him, but spoke through the embrasure without opening the gate.

Recquet decided to take a bold course. ‘We are here for explosives for the Résistance,’ he declared. ‘Open up!’

There was a moment’s stunned silence, and then the commander burst out laughing. ‘All precautions are in place,’ he said evenly. ‘Don’t try to come in or we’ll shoot.’

‘Mori vieux
, listen to me,’ Recquet continued. ‘If any of you move you are all dead.’ He pointed towards the hill overlooking the courtyard. ‘Look!’

The commander turned to see snipers and men with machine guns positioned in the rocks, aiming their weapons directly into the courtyard. Most importantly, the commander himself was covered from every angle and would have been the first to drop. He changed his tone and became pragmatic, demanding an assurance that his men would not be taken prisoner by force if he opened the gate. Recquet agreed.

The gate was opened and the
résistants
poured through, rapidly disarming the startled GMR troops. The trucks were brought up and driven into the courtyard and backed up to the armoury, where they were loaded with explosives. A couple of hours later they were ready to move out into the mountains.

The convoy was delayed by the arrival of the head of the rear guard who reported that a large force of GMR troops had taken up position on a hairpin bend on the road and were lying in wait. Somehow, during the loading operation, the alarm had been raised, and they were now trapped. It would not be long before German troops arrived.

Recquet discussed the situation with his adjutants and came up with three options: they could risk a long and dangerous detour down into Grenoble; they could abandon the trucks and disperse on foot; or they could fight their way through the roadblock created by the GMR troops. The first option was rejected because of the treacherous state of the alternative route and the distance; five of the trucks in the convoy were
gazos - voitures à gazogène
- vehicles which had their petrol tanks replaced by tall gas cylinders that were only good for forty kilometres. Abandoning the trucks and their prize of explosives was rejected outright. They had not come this far to go home empty- handed. That left the third, uncomfortable option of forcing a passage with men sitting on nine vehicles loaded with dynamite.

Recquet came up with another of his bold ruses. The trucks and armoured car would make their way up the mountain and draw up in front of the Vichy roadblock. Men in the armoured car would man the machine guns, while fully armed commandos would lie in wait in the trucks out of sight. Two other groups of commandos would go further up the mountain on foot and take up positions dominating the roadblock. Meanwhile, Recquet, accompanied by Michel and another commando named Henri, moved towards the roadblock.
[113]

‘Just let us pass,’ Recquet said. ‘Nothing more. And there will be no trouble and everybody will be happy.’

The commander stepped forward. ‘Certainly not!’

‘Let’s talk!’ Recquet said. ‘It’s your duty as a Frenchman.’

‘No. I am an officer and I have to obey my orders.’

‘I am a military man as well,’ Recquet said, ‘and I obey General de Gaulle. Let the convoy pass - you can shoot at us afterwards.’

A junior officer began to speak in a low voice to his commander. ‘Sir, perhaps we could...’

‘No!’ the commander exploded, cutting him off abruptly. ‘The Germans are going to arrive from Grenoble any moment and I do not wish to be interned.’

‘Yes, I’m sure the Germans are on their way,’ Recquet said, adopting the tone of one reasonable man appealing to another. ‘So we only have a few minutes. Let us pass.’ He moved towards the commander as he spoke. ‘This is nonsense. Are we going to have Frenchmen fighting against Frenchmen? Surely you could tell the Germans we had already gone through when you arrived?’

‘No,’ the commander repeated, unmoved. ‘Absolutely not!’

During his plea, Recquet had carefully noted the position of his men out of the corner of his eye. The convoy looked harmless enough, although the armoured car had pulled to the front, and he knew the commandos would be in place higher up the mountainside. He had now moved to within inches of the officer in charge, and the men glared at each other.

Suddenly, Recquet whipped the revolver from his belt and shoved it into the man’s belly. ‘Put your hands up and tell your men to do the same, or we shoot!’

Four sub-machine guns appeared from the gun slots in the armoured car, and the
résistants
in the trucks stood and trained their weapons on the troops. Snipers appeared among the rocks and trees on the hill.

‘You are cowards,’ the commander screamed, outraged. ‘You came here to negotiate. You have taken me in treachery. This is against the rules of war.’

Henri raised his hand to hit the commander, but Recquet stopped him.

‘You are the cowards,’ Recquet said. ‘You have hidden in a ditch to make an attack on your fellow countrymen and hold us up. Even for a coward your duty was obvious.’

The sixty surrounded GMR troops were disarmed and their weapons collected. Six chose to join the Résistance, a number that disgusted Recquet. He remarked bitterly, ‘The commander isn’t the only coward. Out of sixty lives we respected and who were our prisoners, only six chose to follow us!’ But time was pressing, and the gazos were spluttering.

The convoy flew the tricolour all the way back to their mountain hideout and were cheered in the villages. They did not encounter a single enemy soldier throughout the journey. The very next day Michel and his men blew up a bridge, using part of the stolen explosives. He took the time to paint and erect a sign that he left propped beside it: SOUVENIR OF MURIER.
[114]

It had been a magnificent and successful operation, but there were casualties. One of the
résistants
, who acted as an observer in the rear guard, was spotted and chased by a Milice patrol. He took refuge in the home of a certain Madame Fleury, in the village of Versoud, and when the patrol hammered on her door he fled through the garden. He was later captured and handed over to the Gestapo. Madame Fleury, accused of being a Résistance sympathiser, was threatened and abused in her own home, and then badly beaten. She too was handed over to the Gestapo and deported. Recquet records: ‘Nobody could make her talk. It took great physical and moral strength. Happily, she survived deportation and returned in 1945, sad and ill. She can be proud to have us say of her, “They dented their helmets with the force of the blows to her head but never loosened her teeth.” A
résistant
dies but does not talk.’

On Bastille Day, three days after the raid on Murier, the Résistance held a traditional military review, including a memorial mass for those killed at St Nizier, deep in the Lente forest. On the same day Vercors received a large supply of weaponry from forty-eight United States Air Force Flying Fortresses, filling the sky with red, white and blue parachutes. A thousand containers were retrieved full of Sten guns, ammunition and badly needed clothes - but none of the requested heavy weapons. The Germans responded within minutes of the drop with an air attack on local villages, blowing up houses and causing casualties among both
résistants
and civilians. As one member of the Maquis returned to his village from the review in the forest, he found everything in flames. The local hotel was burning furiously, but in the dining room at the rear a man was seated alone at a table, a lighted candle stuck in the neck of a bottle, defiantly consuming a baked ham.

The Germans now launched a massive attack on Vercors committing twenty thousand men. Spearheaded by the elite regiment of the 157th Alpine Division, it included two batteries of mountain guns, tank units from the 9th Panzer Division and full air support. The plan was to encircle the redoubt and seal off all escape routes, then smash through to the plateau from all points of the compass and eliminate the defenders.

At the same time, a concerted search was launched for known members of the Résistance. Michel was woken up in Biviers on the same morning by the sound of the village dogs barking furiously. He climbed out of bed and looked out of the window. German trucks full of troops were grinding their way up the mountain road. He threw on his clothes and left the house to protect Thérèse Mathieu, for the Germans killed anyone found harbouring a
résistant
. He intended to make for the mountains, but once outside he saw that a second convoy had already taken up position higher up in the village and cut the road off. ‘German troops had cordoned off the entire area and there was no way out. I was surrounded, completely trapped.’

Michel began to search for a hiding place, and saw an empty house with its shutters closed. It was at this moment that Diane chose to run to his side. He ordered her to go away, but she clung to him. He began to plead. Reluctantly, the Irish setter slunk away, head hung low and feelings hurt. Michel climbed over a wall into the large fenced garden and moved quickly to a well with a wooden cover. He pulled the cover aside and saw that a metal rod ran all the way down the stone interior. He climbed into the well, pulled the cover back into place, and used the rail to lower himself until he was hanging just above the water level. He planned to submerge the moment he heard German troops approach the well.

‘I hung there a long time,’ Michel recalled. The Germans searched the village thoroughly. They had learned many of the Résistance’s tricks during the occupation and became increasingly difficult to evade. Each patrol was assigned a certain number of houses and took their time going through cellars, checking for false floors and hidden doors. As Michel clung to the iron rod in the echoing dark, his body braced uncomfortably against the cold stone shaft, he suddenly heard scratching sounds on the cover above him. He prepared to sink into the icy well water. Then he heard the unmistakable, heartbroken whimpering of Diane.

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