Читать книгу Sisters, Secrets and Sacrifice: The True Story of WWII Special Agents Eileen and Jacqueline Nearne - Susan Ottaway, Susan Ottaway - Страница 7

Eileen Nearne was born at 6 Fulham Road, west London, on 15 March 1921, the youngest of the four children of John and Mariquita Nearne. When her father registered her birth two days later, he gave her name as Eileen Marie. It seems to have been the only time in her life that her middle name was spelt this way, as all other documents refer to her as Eileen Mary – a strange choice, as Mary was also one of her sister’s names. In any case, Eileen was known to all, friends and family alike, as Didi. The name stuck and those who knew her well called her Didi for the rest of her life.

John Francis Nearne, Didi’s father, was the son of a doctor also named John¹ and so, to avoid confusion, was known as Jack. He was a 23-year-old medical student when he married French-born Mariquita Carmen de Plazaola at Marylebone Register Office on 6 November 1913. Mariquita, then 26 years old, was the daughter of Spanish Count Mariano de Plazaola and his French wife, the Marquise of La Roche de Kerandraon.² By the time Jack and Mariquita’s first child, a boy they named Francis, was born on 16 July 1914, the couple had moved from their London address, 70 Margaret Street, Marylebone, to Brighton.

With the onset of the First World War in 1914, Jack became a private in the Royal Army Medical Corps. Mariquita remained at the family home, 32 West Hill Street, a neat Victorian terraced house just a short walk from the beach. It was here that on 27 May 1916, their second child, Jacqueline Françoise Mary Josephine, was born.

After Jack’s military service ended he gave up being a doctor and became a dispensing chemist. The family left the seaside and returned to London, setting up home at 58 Perham Road in Fulham, another Victorian terraced building, and, on 20 January 1920, their second son, Frederick John, was born. The family was completed the following spring with the arrival of Didi. As the baby of the family Didi was rather spoilt and, according to her own account, she was a very naughty child.³

In 1923, with Europe still in turmoil as a result of the war, Jack and Mariquita decided to leave England and move to France. Mariquita’s parents owned several houses and apartments there, and offered the family an apartment in Paris, to which they moved with their young family.

Of all the children Francis, the eldest, was the one who had the most difficulties in adjusting to the move. He was nine years old and had already completed nearly four years of schooling in England. He couldn’t speak French but was sent to a French school in the rue Raynouard, on the right bank of the river Seine, in the hope that he would soon settle down there and learn both his lessons and the language. The school was close to his mother’s birthplace at Auteuil in the capital’s wealthy 16th arrondissement, a pleasant area his mother knew well. But Francis was not happy at school. He found the lessons complicated and difficult and, despite his mother speaking to him in French in an effort to help him, could understand only a few words. It was a good school but Francis did not do at all well and was very disheartened by his lack of progress. A shy, sensitive boy, he found it difficult to make the friends who might have made his assimilation into the French education system a little easier. He had to endure this unhappy situation for a year before his parents took him away. They looked for another school that might suit him better and enrolled him in one in Le Vésinet in the north-west of Paris where, for six months, he received intensive coaching to bring him up to the standard required for a boy of his age. It was an unfortunate start for the poor little lad, and his lack of early success damaged his self-confidence to such an extent that he never really recovered. The feeling of failure was exacerbated when his younger siblings managed to fit in at school with far fewer difficulties than he had had and he was too young to understand that it was because they had been brought to France at an earlier age than he, so their transition to the French way of life was much easier.

Jacqueline, who was seven years old when she arrived in France, had a much more straightforward time at the exclusive Convent of Les Oiseaux at Verneuil to the north-west of Paris, being only a few months behind her French classmates, who didn’t start school until they were six years old. She also found it less of a problem to speak French and quickly settled in to her new life.

The two youngest members of the family, Frederick and Didi, had not attended an English school at all, as neither was old enough, and by the time they went to French schools they were both able to speak the language as well as French children, so they didn’t have to make the adjustments their elder siblings had; their education was completely French, from beginning to end.

Mariquita was determined that all her children should be brought up in the Roman Catholic faith. She herself had been educated at a Catholic convent and she intended that both her daughters should have a similar start in life. Didi enjoyed the rituals of the Catholic Church and at a very early age she found a strong faith in God, which stayed with her all her life. Her mother never had to insist that Didi attend church services, as she went willingly without any prompting. Jacqueline once remarked that Didi was the most religious member of the entire family, although they were all believers.

Didi was never far away from her sister. She hero-worshipped Jacqueline, and wanted to be like her and do whatever she did. It must sometimes have been irritating for Jacqueline to have her little sister trying to tag along wherever she and her friends went, but she was very fond of Didi and didn’t like to turn the little girl away unless she really had to.

After two years in the French capital the family was on the move again, this time to a terraced house that had been given to Mariquita by her parents, 260 boulevard Saint-Beuve on the seafront at Boulogne-sur-Mer. Francis and Frederick attended the Institution Haffreingue, a Catholic school, while Jacqueline was enrolled at the Ursuline convent in the town, where before long Didi joined her. Didi loved her new home. It was the first time she had lived on the coast and the beginning of her lifelong love of the sea.

The house in Boulogne was a happy home and the family felt very comfortable there. Jack Nearne had attempted to learn and improve his French but had had little success. The language didn’t come naturally to him and he was not confident about speaking it. Despite living in France for the rest of his life, he couldn’t ever be described as being fluent in either spoken or written French. This rather hampered his employment prospects but, as he was part of a wealthy family following his marriage to Mariquita, it did not seem to be a major problem. His ineptitude with the language gave his children an advantage, as well as amusing them greatly, because it meant that in order to communicate with their father they had to speak fluent English as well as French, a skill that would serve them all well in their future lives.

Both parents encouraged the children to work hard at school and to read or listen to music when at home. Jacqueline and Didi were avid readers. Jacqueline liked books such as Vanity Fair, Sherlock Holmes stories and The Forsyte Saga. Didi preferred religious books and didn’t like novels at all. They both enjoyed the music of Strauss, Chopin and Beethoven and later, when they were older, that of Glenn Miller, Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin and Jean Sablon.

During the school holidays Jacqueline liked taking part in all kinds of outdoor activities. She loved sport and played for a girls’ hockey team called the Gulls, along with her friends Claire Turl, Marie, Jeanne and Madeleine Louchet, Anne and Marie Louise Cailliez and Nelly Pincedé. She also loved the countryside around Boulogne and cycled to local beauty spots or went for long walks with her friends. When they all got together at the home of one of the group they played cards, told each other jokes and laughed a lot. Jacqueline also liked to knit, and she made lots of colourful socks for herself and her friends.⁴

When she was old enough Didi also played hockey, and she and her friends laughed a lot too. They all enjoyed fooling around, no one more so than Didi, but she also had a serious side. She liked being with other people, but was also able to keep busy and was quite content when she was alone. She was good at art, and liked to paint and make little clay models; and, of course, she had her belief in God.

In 1928 Mariquita’s mother died and left her house in Nice to her daughter. By 1931 the family had packed up their belongings, closed up the house in Boulogne-sur-Mer and moved to Nice, to 60 bis, avenue des Arènes de Cimiez. Situated in the old part of Nice, in the gentle hills behind the coastline, the house was only a short distance from the seafront and the elegant promenade des Anglais, playground of the rich and famous. The family would live there very happily until the Germans invaded France in 1940.

Francis left school in 1930 when he was 16 and went on to a commercial college, where he took a business course and, having passed it, became a representative for a confectionery company. Over the next few years he had a variety of sales jobs that never seemed to last long, so, tiring of sales, he tried working as a barman. Then in 1938, against an increasingly difficult economic backdrop, he lost yet another job and, despite applying for different positions, remained unemployed for the next two years.⁵

Frederick left school just before the start of the war and also found it difficult to obtain work. He considered going back to England to see if it would be any easier to get a job there and was still weighing up his options when the Germans marched into Poland in September 1939. Didi had not even begun to look for work by then, as she had only just left school at the age of 18. She wanted to be a beautician, but with the political unrest that was making itself felt more and more each day, and the ever-present question of what the immediate future might bring, her parents convinced her to stay at home with them until what was happening became clearer. When the war started she gave up the idea, pushing it to the back of her mind in the belief that she would be able pursue her chosen career once the war was over.

Of all the children, Jacqueline was the only one who found a secure job. When she left school she too became a sales representative, working for an office equipment company, and, although based in Nice, she travelled all over the country. In those days such an occupation was considered to be quite an unusual one for a girl but she enjoyed the work, and the travel, which allowed her to see a lot of the countryside. Although she didn’t know it at the time, it would be a foretaste of what was in store for her a few years later.

For the first few months of the war nothing really changed for the Nearne family. The sun was still shining over their home in Nice; Jacqueline was doing well in her job; Francis, who had recently married a young Frenchwoman, Thérèse Poulet, was continuing to look for work; Frederick was thinking about going to England to join the Royal Air Force; and Didi remained at home with her mother and father.

Then, on 10 May 1940, German troops swept into Belgium, Luxembourg and Holland, and all three countries capitulated. Two weeks later Calais and Boulogne were attacked, and the British Expeditionary Force, pinned down by the Germans in the coastal town of Dunkirk, was evacuated, along with several thousand French troops, in what was known as Operation Dynamo. By the middle of June Paris had fallen to the Germans and, on 22 June, the French signed an armistice in the forest of Compiègne, north of Paris, in the same railway carriage in which the Germans had surrendered at the end of the First World War. The threatened war had suddenly become real.

Some months earlier Jacqueline had gone to Boulogne to make sure that the family home on the boulevard Saint-Beuve was secure. The furniture was covered with dust sheets, the curtains drawn, and all the windows and doors locked, but there was little else that she could do to ensure its safety in the event of the German invasion they had all prayed would not take place. Now that had happened, and the family began to wonder what would become of them if enemy troops reached them in the south of France. They didn’t have long to wait for their answer.

Following the French surrender, the country was divided into two parts. The northern part was occupied by the Germans, while the southern sector remained in French hands, with the whole country nominally under the government of Marshal Philippe Pétain, hero of the Battle of Verdun of 1916, who had taken over when Prime Minister Paul Reynaud resigned days before the armistice. Pétain, no longer showing any heroic qualities, based his regime in the city of Vichy, from where he and the puppet administration did nothing for the French people, bowing completely to the will of the Germans. It was an enormous betrayal. Three days after the French surrender Pétain’s betrayal was compounded by the signing of another armistice, this time with Italy, and the formation of a demilitarized zone within France, which included the cities of Nice and Grenoble and which was administered by occupying Italian forces.

Foreign nationals were being forced to move from the coastal areas of France and the Nearne family was no exception. Even French-born Mariquita was regarded as being foreign, as she was married to an Englishman. The Nearnes were given just eight days to pack up and leave their home in Nice and find somewhere else to live.⁶ The edict that forced them to move was known as ‘residence forcée’ – enforced residence in an area, where residents were kept under police surveillance and life was often made very difficult for no apparent reason, other than that they were not French. The seaside house in Boulogne was obviously not an option as a place to relocate to and they doubted that they would be able to return to the Paris apartment even if they had wanted to, because the capital was swarming with Germans. After a hurried discussion, Jack and Mariquita elected to go to the Grenoble area which, although in Italian-occupied France, was where Francis and his wife had settled. Thérèse was expecting the couple’s first baby later that summer and they wanted to remain close for the arrival of their first grandchild.⁷

The family home at avenue des Arènes de Cimiez was leased to a Frenchwoman at an inexpensive rent and the Nearnes left Nice, taking as many of their personal belongings as they could carry to a hotel in Grenoble, where they remained while searching for a new home. Eventually in rue Adolphe Muguet, Saint-Egrève, in the mountains north-west of the city, they found a large, rambling old villa that needed restoring and they were able to purchase it. It was nothing like the comfortable home they had had in Nice, although the views of the mountains were beautiful. But at least they had their own house again and their enforced move meant that they were closer to the newest member of the family, a boy born on 24 August, whom Thérèse and Francis named Jack, after his paternal grandfather.⁸

Gradually the Nearnes managed to introduce some degree of comfort to the draughty old house, but Jack and Mariquita, their two daughters and younger son never really regarded the villa as a home. For them it was just somewhere to stay until the Nazis had been defeated, when they could reclaim the house in Nice and find out what had become of their other home in Boulogne and their Paris apartment.

By the late autumn of 1940 Frederick, along with so many other young men, had decided that, with no job and the ever-present threat of being sent for forced labour to Germany, he could no longer remain in France and would therefore go to England. It must have been a time of great anxiety for his parents, but they knew better than to try to persuade him to remain with them in Grenoble, believing that Britain would be a safer place for him than German-occupied France. Upon arrival in England he volunteered for the RAF, was sent to the recruits’ centre at RAF Station Uxbridge in Middlesex, and as Aircraftman 2nd Class Frederick John Nearne (1270875) began his service career on 1 November 1940. A month later he was posted to Ford in Sussex and six days later started his training at HQ Number 17 (Training) Group, part of Coastal Command. He remained there for a year before being posted, on 5 January 1942, to the Middle East Command, where he served at the RAF station in Amman, Jordan; the Middle East Torpedo (Training) school; Lydda (now in Israel); and various maintenance and operational training units in the Levant. He eventually returned to England and received his discharge on 23 October 1946.⁹

No longer seen as the well-to-do French family that they had previously appeared to be, the members of the Nearne family who remained in France were now regarded, at least by the authorities, as foreigners – citizens of an enemy state – and had to get on with their lives as best they could. Since they were unable to find any of the domestic help that they had formerly relied upon, Jacqueline and Didi had to help Mariquita run the house. One of their tasks was to collect and chop firewood, which was always in short supply but which they needed both for warmth and as fuel for cooking, and they helped with the shopping, cleaning, washing, ironing and cooking. Neither girl minded having to help with these chores – Didi even began to enjoy cooking – but they both minded very much about the reason they had had to move to the house in the first place.

Although they were British nationals, they had almost no memories of the country of their birth and spoke English with French accents. France was their home and they loved their life there. But as time went by and they saw how Britain was standing alone in the fight against the Germans, they began to think that perhaps they too should be doing something for the war effort. The war had made Jacqueline realize how patriotic she felt towards this small country, even though it was so unfamiliar to her. From that moment she knew that she would not be able to remain in France, subjected to the will of the Nazis and the weak-minded French appeasers who had formed some sort of a collaborative government. Slowly over the next few months, perhaps inspired by her younger brother’s decision to leave home, she came to the conclusion that she too would have to go to England and do something to help Britain fight the Germans, although she didn’t have any idea how she was going to do it. She discussed the situation with Didi, who immediately said that she wanted to go with her. Jacqueline was nervous about this, as Didi was still very young and quite naive. But once Didi had an idea in her head, nothing would stop her. If her sister was going off to fight, then so was she.

Meanwhile time passed slowly. The girls had made friends in Saint-Egrève but there was no possibility of employment for either of them. At an age when they should have had lots to do, they were stuck in their mountain hideaway, bored with their enforced inactivity and frustrated that what should have been the most exciting years of their lives were passing them by. For Didi at least, there was a glimpse of that excitement when she met her first boyfriend.¹⁰ Andy was a pleasant young man, with a cheeky grin that showed off his slightly protruding front teeth. He was smitten by Didi, but although she was fond of him, the excitement of her first romance couldn’t prevent her from thinking about escaping to England.

Jacqueline was eager to leave for England as soon as possible and, as they were both still British citizens, she and Didi contacted the British consulate in Lyons and obtained British passports. Jack and Mariquita, understandably, did not want them to go but knew that, as with Fred, it would be wrong to try to stop them. So at the beginning of 1942, not knowing if they would ever see their daughters again, they reluctantly said goodbye to Jacqueline and Didi and waved them off on a train bound for Marseilles, at the start of what would undoubtedly be a difficult and dangerous journey.

Once there the girls hoped to find a boat to take them out of the country but they were unaware of what conditions were now like outside their own sheltered world. Although both in their 20s – Jacqueline was by then 26 and Didi 21 – they were, after all, convent girls and had had protected lives thus far, being cosseted by their wealthy family. Although Jacqueline had travelled for her work before the war, she had had no experience of how everyday life in France had been affected after the German invasion. Neither girl had realized that because Marseilles was a port there were very rigorous checks, and they were distressed when they were refused permission to continue on their journey and were sent straight back to Grenoble.

Undaunted, they again contacted the British consulate to ask, this time, for advice on the best way to get to Britain, and were told to stay away from the coastline and try to get to Portugal via Spain. Portugal was officially neutral but had strong sympathies for the Allied cause. Spain, also officially neutral, favoured the Axis powers and there were German spies all over the country, but the sisters were sure that they would be able to reach England. The journey would still be dangerous, but they were determined to succeed and knew that they were better prepared than on their first attempt. Although it was a difficult time to be leaving their home and their parents, they had each other and each girl knew that she could rely on her sister completely.

In April they again said goodbye to their parents and this time they reached the Spanish border by train, managed to cross the country without problems and entered Portugal, where they were given transit visas enabling them to travel onwards to another country. Making their way to Lisbon, they went directly to the British consulate there and asked for more help. The consul told them that he would try to find them a ship to take them out of Portugal, so they booked into a small hotel, where they stayed for nearly three weeks, contacting the consulate at regular intervals to see if there was any information for them. Eventually the consul had news and it was good. He told them that he had found a ship that would soon be leaving for Gibraltar and the captain would be willing to take them on board. He gave them the name of the vessel and of the captain, and advised them to contact him as soon as possible.

The sisters immediately hurried down to the docks to meet the man, who was a jovial Englishman. He told them that although he had never carried passengers before he would be willing to take them, and so the arrangement was made. Jacqueline and Didi went back to their hotel, collected their bags and paid the bill. They returned to the ship and found that the captain had moved out of his cabin so that they could share it and have some privacy from the all-male crew on the voyage. When they reached their new quarters they could hardly believe what they found. The captain had filled the cabin with flowers for them and decorated other parts of the vessel with more flowers. It was such a kind gesture and they were very touched by his thoughtfulness. They reached Gibraltar without any problems and, after docking, had only three days to wait before continuing on the next stage of their journey. This time they were bound for Glasgow.

The entire expedition had taken around five weeks and had been very tiring but, in May 1942, as the ship made its way up the west coast of Scotland and into the river Clyde, Jacqueline and Didi were elated to have finally reached Britain. As they presented their passports they saw that some people were being directed to what seemed to be a holding area and discovered that they were refugees who had nowhere to go. Although the girls intended to stay with family friends in London, they were nervous that they too might be regarded as refugees, so they gave the name and address of a distant cousin, Mrs Plunkett of Heaton House, Cheshunt, Hertfordshire,¹¹ thinking that they might stand a better chance of going through the formalities successfully if it was believed that they were going to be living with family. Whether or not they were actually in danger of being classified as refugees is doubtful. But they had had enough of bureaucracy and didn’t want to take any chances, now that they were so close to their destination. They needn’t have worried. Handing back their passports, the official waved them through the barrier and they were free.

The train journey to London took hours and left them feeling exhausted. They eventually arrived and, looking for somewhere to get a drink and something to eat, they came across a Lyons Corner House and decided to order afternoon tea to celebrate reaching the capital. They sat down and looked around them at the other customers. Everything seemed so much better than it had been in France. They even spotted someone eating a piece of cake and could hardly believe their eyes; they had not seen such luxury for a long time. When the waitress came to take their order they asked for tea and then, rather hesitantly, enquired if there was any chocolate cake. The waitress, noticing their foreign accents, stood and glared at them, her hands on her hips, and then snorted in disgust and enquired sarcastically, ‘I suppose you have not heard there is a war on?’¹² They didn’t get their cake that day but, remembering what they had just endured in order to reach the relative freedom of London, they laughed at the waitress’s reaction. Refreshed by cups of tea, they found their way to the home of their family friends, Odile and George, at 97 Darenth Road, Stamford Hill, N16. Now all they had to do was find some war work.