23:48 (GMT)
Monday, September 9, 1940
Area of Gravelines, France
The file of soldiers and aviators, led by George Townsend, slowly made its way through the forest, impeded by the two loaded stretchers. Nancy had taken tail position and was scanning periodically their rear with her night goggles. She could see the small fire on the prison’s roof, where her parachute was burning: no point in giving away its design to the Germans. Apart from the walking silhouettes of the German doctor and nurse on the road, she didn’t see any movement. They should be able to make a clean break from the area.
Ahead of the column, in the wood clearing, Sergeant Winters had been advised by radio that they were on their way and had already called for the pick-up planes which would take out the aviators. The column and Winters’ group linked up at 00:16 hours and hid in the wood line, except for six men holding vertically beacon lights with baffles. Shortly after the link-up, Townsend crouched besides Nancy, who was hiding behind a bush, and spoke quietly in her ear.
“One of the aviators wants to speak to you.”
“Alright, guide me to him.”
They walked a short distance to the woodline of the clearing, where the stretchers had been put down. Warrant Higgins was already kneeling over one of the wounded pilots. Nancy then saw that it was Durling.
“I’m here, Mister Durling, what can I do for you?”
“Nancy, the Germans…they were asking me questions about you.”
Those words sent at once a chill down her spine.
“The Germans know me? How could they?”
“Don’t know, Nancy. They also said strange things about you.”
“What kind of things?”
“They told me that you were from the future, from the year 2012. Isn’t that crazy?”
Nancy was stunned, made speechless by this. Townsend and Higgins were on their part staring at her in awkward silence. She finally spoke softly to Durling.
“Look, you just proved you could keep a secret, so here is another one for you: I am really from the year 2012. You did well not telling anything about me. Here is for a genuine hero.”
She then kissed him gently on the lips. When she straightened up, she noticed that Higgins had unconsciously tightened his grip on his submachine gun. So much for her secret if the Germans knew about it already.
“Look guys, wherever or whenever I come from is not important. What is important is that I’m on your side. Just don’t talk to the others about this. This is classified Most Secret information.”
“My god!” was the soft reply from a stunned Townsend.
The first Westland Lysander landed at 00:53 hours. Obsolete as a reconnaissance aircraft in 1940, it was perfect for the role that gained fame for it during the war: clandestine trips into German-occupied Europe. Large and slow, it could land practically anywhere and quickly drop or pick up passengers and supplies. The normal payload was one passenger and a piece of luggage, but this time it had to cram two aviators in the back seat. Durling was quickly but carefully loaded first, then a still fit aviator went with him in order to take care of the wounded. As soon as the Lysander took off, using less than 200 yards to do so, a second one landed. Two more aviators boarded it and it was gone less than three minutes after landing. The third followed, leaving three aviators for the two more Lysanders expected. Unknown to Nancy, Townsend had decided discreetly with Higgins to put her on board the last plane, by force if need be. When the fourth plane stopped besides the commandos, its pilot stuck his head out and yelled over the noise of the engine.
“This is the last ride. The fifth plane had engine trouble and had to abort. How many are left to pick up?”
Townsend swore to himself. The three aviators left were in no state to try a night forced march in enemy territory.
“Can you take four persons?”
“Are you crazy? With three men, I’m not even sure I can take off from this field.”
“Okay, you just got yourself three passengers. Alright men, load up!”
The overloaded Lysander soon took off, barely clearing the top of the trees at the end of the field. Relieved to be rid of his charges, Townsend turned towards his men, only to bump into a clearly displeased Nancy.
“What was that nonsense about four passengers?”
“Er, well…”
“CUT THE CRAP, GEORGE! I’m an army officer and expect to be treated like one, even in this period of rampant male chauvinism. You try another stunt like that with me and I’ll shoot your kneecaps off. Now, I suggest we get the hell out of here.”
An embarrassed Townsend then assembled his men, some of them still quietly chuckling over Nancy’s angry outburst, for a quick review of things to come.
“Listen up, all of you! We will now head on foot to the Northwest, to the small port of Petit-Fort-Philippe, a little over a mile from here and along the Aa canal. From there we will either steal a boat or, if none is for the taking, walk to the coast, where Mister Stilwell’s patrol boat will pick us up. Questions?”
A young soldier raised his hand.
“What kind of opposition can we expect, sir?”
George and Nancy looked at each other: the mission had been launched on such short notice that nobody really knew about that.
“I’ll be frank about that: you know as much as me on that, Private. We will run for the next few minutes, so tighten up your gear.”
Nancy approached Townsend a few moments later with a request that truly shocked him.
“You want to take point scout position? Are you nuts?”
“George, I’m not doing this to show off, but because I can be useful in the lead for the following reasons: I have special equipment that you don’t have; I have a silencer-equiped weapon and can deal quietly with sentries; and I speak German fluently. Do you have anybody else better for the job?”
He was about to say that no woman would lead his patrol but shut up in time: she would probably have ripped his balls off for that.
“What kind of equipment do you have with you?”
“I have night vision goggles, a directional amplifier microphone and a radio scanner.” She then took two minutes to explain the capabilities of her equipment to him. He shook his head in disbelief.
“First, your parachute, then your body armor, now, this. You really are from the year 2012, aren’t you? Christ! Alright, you have the lead. We will stay about fifty yards behind you, or as far as possible without losing sight of you. You have a map and a compass?”
He was going to ask if she knew how to use them but thought better of it. Warrant Higgins nearly choked to death when he saw Nancy go forward of the file of commandos. He whispered to his captain.
“With all due respect, sir, are you daft? You’re sending some kind of Flash Gordon woman as point scout for a platoon of Royal Commandos?”
“Yes Warrant, I am. It’s called command decision. Anything else?”
“Er, no sir!”
Townsend let Nancy run to the opposite edge of trees before signaling his men forward. They quickly established a routine, with Nancy running a while and stopping to listen and observe, then run again, with the platoon following at a slower but constant pace. He was nearly hoping to burn her out and thus have a good excuse to replace her, but he found out that she was as fit as she had claimed. After about fifteen minutes of this, Nancy suddenly signaled him to join her behind a row of trees. Followed by his men, Townsend soon knelt besides her. She was barely breathing faster, which was proof enough of her fitness. She pointed to a small village visible about 300 yards away along a canal. He could barely see the outline of the houses in the darkness as she spoke in a soft whisper.
“I don’t see any boats in the harbour: the Germans must have removed or destroyed them. I think I also saw a couple of German sentries.”
“Can I try these night goggles of yours?”
Instead of taking her goggles off her helmet, she simply undid her helmet chin strap and handed him the helmet and goggles, which he donned. Townsend was nearly spooked by the clarity of the greenish picture he saw.
“This thing is incredible! I can see everything past a thousand yards. You’re right about those sentries and the boats, though. It looks like we’ll have to walk all the way to the coast.”
“Then, I suggest that we slow down and go cautiously: we must be closing in on what coastal defensive lines the Germans have certainly established to repel coastal raiders.”
“I think you’re right. Let me first call Stilwell by radio to warn him that we are closing on the coast.”
Townsend was back at her side after five minutes.
“Stilwell is about two miles off the coast, in front of the Aa’s estuary. He will close in when we report next from the coast.”
“Good! I will move forward now if you’re ready.”
“Go ahead, Nancy, but be careful.”
They covered only another 400 yards before Nancy urgently signaled them to take cover. Joining her as quietly as he could behind a bush, Townsend looked in the direction pointed by her. He then saw with the help of moonlight a German anti-aircraft position about a hundred yards ahead, situated at the edge of a small patch of trees. Nancy’s voice was tense.
“Quadruple 20mm ack-ack gun. It could make minced meat of this platoon. There are also more Germans in the trees. Listen!”
She handed him a small earplug attached by a wire to a sort of metal tube. Once inserted in his ear, he was able to hear weak conversations in German.
“Damn! What do we do now?”
That was when the Germans in the woods came alive.
01:35 (GMT)
Tuesday, September 10, 1940
Gravelines prison, France
Klaus Manheim was standing in the prison’s infirmary with the Luftwaffe doctor and nurse who had alerted the nearby garrison in Gravelines about the raid. Klaus could not stop staring at the Luftwaffe female vest he held in his hands: four holes riddled the chest area, while another hole had pierced the upper back. By all rules, the owner of that vest should be dead. Yet, there was not a single trace of blood on either the vest or the equally holed shirt now resting on the bed. The same could not be said of the Feldgendarmerie warrant whose body had just been taken away.
“You say that she suffered nothing more than superficial bruises?”
“That’s correct, Herr Manheim. She even extracted herself a bullet from that incredible vest of hers, which she called ‘body armor’. She was also a tough young woman: those bruises to her breasts must have been very painful, but she ran away with the rest of the British soldiers without complaining. I was able to hold that armored vest by the way: it was flexible and very light, less than five kilos actually.”
“Anything else you could tell me, doctor?”
“Er, yes! I remember now that she changed into a camouflaged combat uniform shortly before they ran away. It had officer’s ranks on a front slip-on flap, with two large stripes. There was also the word ‘CANADA’ sewn on her rank slip-on, plus a sewn nametag on her right breast. The British officer also called her by her first name. Her full name is Nancy Laplante. She spoke fluent German.”
“Captain Nancy Laplante visited us in France, then. Interesting! Why?”
“But, to deliver the British pilots, obviously.”
“Why her, doctor? Why send a woman along with a platoon of trained commandos for a job like this?”
“Don’t underestimate her because she is a woman, Herr Manheim. She proved herself to be very dangerous.”
On that Manheim had no arguments with the doctor. Dismissing him and the nurse, he walked up the hallway to the prison’s administrative office, where he found a major of the Feldgendarmerie looking at various pieces of equipment. The officer’s face was grim: the men killed by the British belonged to his unit. The major looked at the Abwehr agent, obviously hoping for more information about the massacre of his men. Manheim spoke first.
“What did your men find, Major Brock?”
“A few things of interest: first, a third of my men were killed with a small calibre pistol, shot mostly in the head; second, a burnt parachute was found on the roof, besides the body of one of my men; third, that female Luftwaffe uniform full of holes found in the infirmary; lastly, a dead British Royal Commandos corporal. What do you make of all this?”
“I would say that a woman disguised as a Luftwaffe auxiliary landed by parachute on the roof, killed your sentry, then gave access to the British commandos through the rear entrance. At one point she killed the Gestapo interrogators, probably to deliver one of the prisoners, then got in a gunfight with your warrant near the infirmary. She survived it, while he didn’t.”
“How could she survive that?” exploded the frustrated major.
“She was wearing a sort of bullet-proof vest, Major. By the way, her name is Nancy Laplante and she is a captain in the Canadian military intelligence currently stationned in Northolt, near London.”
The major’s eyes opened wide with surprise.
“How do you know all this?”
“I have my sources.” Said Klaus non-committaly. “I also suspect that she used a new type of parachute which was recently tested in Northolt. It is said that that parachute can land somebody within meters of an objective after jumping from high altitude.”
Brock looked at the melted mass found on the roof, now sitting on a table.
“That would explain why the British felt they had to burn it. What else do you know about that woman? “
“Well, she speaks many languages fluently, including German. She is an expert in hand-to-hand combat. She has green eyes, black hair, is athletic and is about 182 centimeters tall. She was also decorated for bravery recently after shooting down a Junkers 88 with a machine gun.”
“Mein gott! This is quite a dangerous woman. A trained assassin?”
“Oh, I believe she is a lot more than that, Major.”
01:40 (GMT)
Area of Petit-Fort-Philippe, France
“What is happening, Nancy?”
“Shhh!”
She was listening with the help of her directional microphone to the shouts coming from the small wood. Townsend suddenly saw her tense up, her face getting pale. She reached for his hand and pressed it tightly as she spoke.
“They just have been told about us and are going to send patrols out. Furthermore, they have strict orders to find me.”
She then looked at him.
“Their orders are to capture me alive at all cost. George, whatever happens, don’t ever let them take me alive.”
For the first time that night her voice reflected fear and anguish. Townsend, remembering in what state they had found Durling and the other aviators, didn’t blame her for that one bit. He kissed her hand gently.
“Don’t worry, Nancy, we’ll play bodyguards for you.”
The noise of engines being started up attracted their eyes back to the small wood. Nancy lowered again her goggles, which she had flipped up and out of the way to speak with Townsend.
“I see two trucks about to leave the woods. There is a third one further back but there is no activity around it.”
Nancy’s report made Townsend smile.
“They are sending out possibly two thirds of their force on patrol. Great! We could use that opportunity to slip through right here. Talk about dumb luck.”
“Er, we will still have to deal with the ack-ack crew and whatever is left in that wood, quietly. If they see us while we’re in the open, we will be dead meat.”
“You’re right, let’s do it!”
This time, it was Townsend’s turn to prove that he and his men were professionnals. Nancy didn’t have to use her silenced pistol at all, the commandos killing quietly all the Germans in less than twenty minutes. She met Townsend afterwards near the captured anti-aircraft weapon. What she saw there made her jump with excitement.
“It’s mounted on a half-track! George, I suddenly have this crazy idea…”
02:30 (GMT)
Channel coast, France
The SdKfz 7/1 half-track stopped with a jerk behind a thick line of shrubs. From there, 300 yards of sparse vegetation and low sand dunes separated them from the sea. The German truck that they had captured along with the half-track also stopped behind the shrubs, disgorging the commandos it carried. Nancy, standing on the gun platform at the rear of the half-track, scanned the area with her night goggles, using them in conjunction with her directional microphone. She then lowered her head towards the driver’s window, where Townsend was sitting behind the steering wheel.
“There is a barbed wire fence along the shore, about one hundred yards from the water. The fence is not thick and should be easily breached. However, I can see a dug-in position on top of that low hill to the right, about 800 yards away. There is also a possible machine gun position dug in this sand dune to our front. I can hear at least two voices from there.”
Townsend had to think a few seconds before formulating a plan.
“Alright, here is what we are going to do. The majority of the men will be led by Warrant Higgins in a left hook around that machine gun position, while Sergeant Winters will take three men with him and quietly take care of the machine gun crew. Me, you and Private Dobbs will stay with the half-track to provide fire support if need be. The tricky part is to stay clear of that position to the right. Let’s also be careful about mines: there are probably a few along the barbed wire fence. First, I have to contact our navy ride.”
The radio operator sitting besides Townsend in the cab fidgeted for a moment with his radio before handing the headset and microphone to his captain. Townsend had difficulty hearing Stilwell, the quality of the transmission being poor.
“Hello, Dolphin Zero, this is Fox One, do you hear me, over?”
“Fox one… phin Zero. Where are you now, over?”
“Dolphin Zero, we are 300 yards short of the water, about one mile west of the Aa’s estuary, over.”
“Fox one, Dolphin Zero on its way. We will send you two inflatable rubber boats once in position: the water is too shallow for us to get nearer than about 300 yards from the shore. We will probably have to do two trips, over.”
“Fox One, understood. Be advised that there is a German dug-in position about 800 yards east of my location, on top of a low hill.”
“Dolphin Zero, I copy that. I will be there in fifteen minutes. Hang tight!”
Satisfied, Townsend gave back the headset and microphone to Dobbs, then held a quick orders group with his men around the cab of the halftrack.
“Sergeant Winters, take three men and get rid quietly of that machine gun crew. Start now!”
While the four men departed, Townsend turned his head to face Higgins.
“Warrant, take the rest of the men and start a left hook around the machine gun position. Be careful about mines and stay out of sight of that German position to our right. We are expecting two rubber boats in fifteen minutes or more. So, in fifteen minutes and once every minute thereafter, flash the reconnaissance signal towards the sea. Your job will be to get the men safely and quickly on board our patrol boat. I will stay with the half-track with Dobbs and Captain Laplante to provide fire support if needed. Questions?”
Higgins glanced briefly at Nancy, tempted to say something about bringing her on the first boat. She looked back at him resolutely, standing besides the anti-aircraft gun mount.
“No Sir!”
“Then go!”
The next fifteen minutes were very tense, with Nancy keeping Townsend informed of the progress of his men with the help of her night goggles. Sergeant Winters succeeded in eliminating the german gun crew, waving an arm to advise them he had done his job, then went to join up with Warrant Higgins’ column. After another ten minutes, the radio besides Townsend started making noises again. Private Dobbs listened for a moment, then passed it to his captain.
“Fox One, Fox One, this is Dolphin Zero, over!”
“Fox one here, go ahead!”
“Dolphin Zero, we have seen your signal. My rubber boats are on their way. Make it fast: I suspect that a German patrol boat is sniffing over the area.”
“Fox One, I copy, out!”
Townsend then stuck his head out of the cab.
“Nancy, Stilwell is here. He says that there may be a German patrol boat around. Can you see it?”
“Wait one!”
She looked through her night goggles, commenting as she swept the sea’s horizon.
“Nothing…wait! I see Stilwell’s patrol boat. YES! I see the two rubber boats: they have started to take in our men.”
“Good show! What about the German boat?”
“Hmm…woah! SHIT! I see a boat approaching: it is about a mile from Stilwell and to his port aft side.”
Townsend was transmitting that information when Nancy got an idea.
“George, tell Stilwell not to open fire yet and to keep a low profile, then start this vehicle and advance a bit while turning left to give me a good field of fire.”
“You got it!”
By the time he started the half-track and crashed through the shrubs and into the open, Nancy had rotated the quadruple automatic cannon mount roughly towards the German boat.
“DRIVER STOP!”
Using her night goggles, she lined up the German boat in the gun sight, using her hands to work the elevation and traverse mechanisms. After a last careful adjustment, she pressed the trigger and fired a short burst of 20mm explosive tracer shells. The burst fell short but not by much. Frantically working the elevation mechanism, she compensated and fired a second burst two seconds later. The tracers bracketed the boat that time, with what looked like a couple of hits as a bonus.
The fire from the mobile air defence gun took everybody else in the area by surprise, the commander of the German Schnellboot being the least pleased about it. Two 20mm shells had just exploded on board, killing one of the sailors on the rear deck.
“What are those Wehrmacht idiots think they are doing?” Raged the commander. “Engines full ahead! Steer to port, heading 180!”
On the hill to the right of the half-track, excited sentries reported to their officer, a young lieutenant, that one of their air defense guns was engaging a boat near the coast. The lieutenant, seeing next to nothing with his binoculars, jumped on his field telephone to request that his company’s mortar section fire an illuminating shell over the sea, off his position. Two minutes later, a bright spot ignited in the night sky over the sea, clearly silhouetting a small boat. The German lieutenant, being inept at the art of recognizing ships, then ordered his men to fire on it.
“SHOW TIME!”
Nancy exulted when the starshell illuminated the German patrol boat. Folding up her night goggles, she was able to look directly through the gun sight and to adjust her fire, bracketing the Schnellboot with five successive bursts. The last one hit one of the reload torpedoes stored amidship, detonating it and destroying the patrol boat in a ball of fire.
Lieutenant-commander Stilwell screamed with joy at the sight of the fireball. Jumping down from the tiny bridge of his patrol boat, he went to meet the two first boatloads of commandos now arriving alongside. As soon as the sixteen soldiers were aboard, he replaced the tired sailors that had been rowing the boats with fresh men and sent the boats back for the rest of the commandos. He shook the hand of Sergeant Winters, the senior ranking commando now on board.
“Jolly good show! Getting a Schnellboot on top of completing your mission is fantastic. Who was doing the shooting?”
Winters grinned from ear to ear at his question.
“Captain Laplante is manning the flak gun, sir. Captain Townsend is driving the halftrack, with radioman Dobbs besides him. I guess that Miss Laplante loves playing with big guns.”
The commando took great pleasure at watching Stilwell’s jaw drop to the deck of his boat.
The German lieutenant now felt like crawling under a rock as his very irate battalion commander was screaming at him on the telephone. When his superior slammed the phone after giving a terse order, the lieutenant looked at his warrant officer.
“We engaged the wrong target: that air defense half-track was stolen earlier on by British raiders. There is also a woman with them. Our orders are to destroy the raiders but also to capture the woman alive at all cost.”
The warrant officer winced: orders finishing with the words ‘at all cost’ were not his favorite ones.
Things were now getting dicey around the half-track. A starshell was illuminating their area and Nancy could see at least twenty German soldiers running down the hill towards them. She engaged them with two short bursts, hitting some of them and forcing the rest to take cover. Bullets started to bounce on the half-track.
“DRIVER, ADVANCE! HEAD FOR THE WATER!”
The mortar firing on them had now switched from starshell to fragmentation bombs. The first one landed fifty yards from their vehicle, while the second one was much closer. A scream followed the third explosion, as fragments were pinging on the gun shield protecting Nancy. Her heart stopped for a moment.
“GUYS, ARE YOU ALRIGHT?”
“Je… Jesus! Dobbs just punched the ticket. Hang on, I’m going to go full speed.”
Another bomb exploded close to the half-track, its blast sprawling Nancy against the gun. She felt like she had been punched all over her body and became numb. Looking at herself, she saw blood on her right arm and right leg but didn’t feel pain, yet. Taking back the gunner’s seat, she resumed firing on the advancing Germans, only to hear the breeches close on empty chambers: she was out of ammunition. That was when a mortar bomb exploded just in front of the speeding half-track, sending it crashing in a sand dune and blowing her off the vehicle. She now had a constant buzz in her ears as she slowly got back on her feet and walked on the loose sand to the immobile half-track, which was starting to burn. Another blast projected her hard against the vehicle. She felt more punches to her body but ignored them, focused solely on getting Townsend out and to safety. The driver’s door had opened on impact, showing her the commando captain sprawled over the steering wheel. She felt an immense relief when she found that he still had a slow but strong pulse. Pulling him out with the strength of despair, she draped him over her shoulders in a classic fireman’s carry and headed towards the water. Bullets were now hitting the sand around her and whistling past her head. She was only thirty yards from the water when a hard blow hit her in the back, sending her and Townsend face down in the sand. Getting up was really hard that time. She never understood later how she did it, but she managed to put Townsend across her shoulders again and resumed walking. By then her vision was blurred and she was feeling increasingly dizzy. Another blow hit her leg as she was splashing in the surf. This time she screamed in pain and could not get up.
“NOOO! NOT NOW!”
Raging at her weakness, Nancy seized Townsend’s collar and started dragging him along with herself. Booted feet suddenly surrounded her and George. She thought in panic at the treatment she could expect from the Germans. Somebody then spoke to her in English.
“Hang on, maam, we’ll get you out of here.”
“NO! GET TOWNSEND OUT FIRST! I CAN MANAGE BY MYSELF.”
“But, maam…”
“THAT’S AN ORDER! TAKE TOWNSEND FIRST!”
They obeyed her and carried away Townsend, leaving two men to protect her and help her up. With a supreme effort she managed to walk by herself towards the nearby rubber boat. Her escorts were now firing away their submachine guns, while Stilwell’s boat added to the covering fire with its heavy machine guns. As they were finally reaching the rubber boat, somebody spoke softly with alarm in his voice.
“Oh my god!”
That was when she collapsed into the inflatable boat, knocked for the count.
16:03 (GMT)
Tuesday, September 10, 1940
Folkestone, England
The Royal Commandos colonel looked at Warrant Higgins in disbelief.
“Is there something she didn’t do during this mission, Warrant? Are you sure this is not earsay or second hand information?”
“Sir, I was there!” Higgins replied in an aggressive, angry tone. “Captain Laplante made that mission a success. The fact that she is a woman had no impact on my answers: I would admire as much any man who would have done half of what she did. In fact, you should get her to join the Royal Commandos, sir.”
“Alright, Warr