Russell Braddon - Nancy Wake: World War Two’s Most Rebellious Spy
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Nancy Wake: World War Two’s Most Rebellious Spy: summary, description and annotation
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Of all the variously talented women SOE sent to France, Nancy Wake was perhaps the most formidable Sebastian Faulks
This is the incredible true story of the greatest spy youve never heard ofas told to the author by the woman herself.
At the outbreak of World War Two, Nancy Wakes glamorous life in the South of France seemed far removed from the fighting. But when her husband was called up for military service, Nancy felt she had just as much of a duty to fight for freedom. By 1943, her fearless undercover work even in the face of personal tragedy had earned her a place on the Gestapos most wanted list.
Mixing armed combat with a taste for high living, Nancy frustrated the Nazis at every turnwhether she was smuggling food and messages as part of the underground Resistance or being parachuted into the heart of the war to lead a 7,000-strong band of Resistance fighters.
The extraordinary courage of this unequalled woman changed the course of the war, and Russell Braddons vividly realised biography brings her incredible story to life.
This is the incredible true story of the greatest spy youve never heard ofas told to the author by the woman herself.
At the outbreak of World War Two, Nancy Wakes glamorous life in the South of France seemed far removed from the fighting. But when her husband was called up for military service, Nancy felt she had just as much of a duty to fight for freedom. By 1943, her fearless undercover work even in the face of personal tragedy had earned her a place on the Gestapos most wanted list.
Mixing armed combat with a taste for high living, Nancy frustrated the Nazis at every turnwhether she was smuggling food and messages as part of the underground Resistance or being parachuted into the heart of the war to lead a 7,000-strong band of Resistance fighters.
The extraordinary courage of this unequalled woman changed the course of the war, and Russell Braddons vividly realised biography brings her incredible story to life.
Russell Braddon: author's other books
Who wrote Nancy Wake: World War Two’s Most Rebellious Spy? Find out the surname, the name of the author of the book and a list of all author's works by series.
Russell Braddon
Nancy Dickmann
Nancy Kline
Nancy Nahra
Nancy DellOlio
Fitzsimons
Brenda Jones
Nancy Carpenter Brown
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PRAISE FOR NANCY WAKE
Russell Braddon has written the story of this indomitable woman with skill and understanding, played up the friendship, love, laughter and adventure; and played down the tragedy, the horror, the vulgarity of war.
The Observer
Text copyright 1956, 2005, 2009, 2019 by The Estate of Russell Braddon
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Previously published in 1956 by Cassell.
Published by Little A, New York
www.apub.com
Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Little A are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.
ISBN-13: 9781542021661
ISBN-10: 1542021669
Cover design by: @blacksheep-uk.com
CONTENTS
AUTHORS NOTE
The story that follows is Nancy Wakes and because of that I have asked her to write the next and only important sentence on this page.
I dedicate this book to everyone in France who helped us, even if it was only by refraining from helping the enemy, for that in itself required courage, but especially I dedicate it to my comrades in the Maquis dAuvergne.
PART ONE: NANCYS WAR BEGINS
1 THE ENEMY ARRIVE
A rebel, always laughing and very, very feminine thats the best way to describe Nancy Wake. Although one could add that she had the disconcertingly direct stare of an infant child candid, unhurried and perceptive and a childs serene brow. Her eyes were hazel ordinarily, but they went green when she cried and blue when she walked outside on a fine day.
As a twelve-year-old she was a brilliant pupil in an Australian high school. Even then she cooked the household meals and often had to clean the house and she didnt like these tasks at all. She ran away from home twice.
At eighteen she was a nurse, cheerful and popular with the inmates, in a country mental hospital.
In her early twenties she began a world tour, supporting herself by freelance journalism, her sales stemming from good looks and personality as much as from an adequate literary talent. She earned enough to live and to keep moving.
When she was twenty-two she took a flat in Paris and, with her first wage packet, bought two wire-haired terriers one a dog, one a bitch and these she promptly named Picon and Grenadine, as a compliment to Frances drinking habits. She always loved Picon most and it was he who was to live right through the next fantastic seven years of her own life, so that when he died after the War, she wept for days. Friends asked her why. After all, he was only a dog. And she replied, If you love dogs youll know part of the reason. The other part is that when Picon died, the last of my youth died too. By then, of course, she had spent almost the entire War fighting the Nazis in France; she had become a distinguished Resistance leader; she had earned more decorations than any other British servicewoman; and she had lost her husband to the Gestapo torturers in Marseille. Picon had lived through it all and now he was dead and she felt that the last link with her life as a girl had vanished. So she wept.
But we run ahead of time. When she was twenty-three she was a considerable beauty and had the dubious compliment paid her one evening of being strenuously pursued round and round the Cannes Palm Beach Casino by a wealthy sheik or pasha, she wasnt sure which. Eventually she cooled his ardour by introducing him to her fianc, Henri Fiocca, a Marseille steel industrialist who was equally as wealthy as the sheik or pasha, whichever he was.
She had first met Henri Fiocca at a party. He was fourteen years older than she, and his partner, on that occasion, was an incredibly beautiful young woman. The next evening, he contrived to be at the same restaurant as Nancy and her friends and his companion was another beautiful woman. Nancys group moved on to a nightclub and later Fiocca turned up again this time with a third beautiful woman.
For heavens sake, Nancy exploded, how does he do it?
He has great charm, one of her companions pointed out.
Im not saying he hasnt, she replied. But all those gorgeous-looking girls. How does he do it?
Her partner shrugged. Henri has many more girls than you have seen, he assured her.
For weeks it went on. Finally, Nancy, who could not bear not to understand, tackled Fiocca bluntly on the subject.
How do you get on to so many beautiful girls?
They ring me up.
They ring you up?
Yes, he sighed. Every girl, except the one I want, rings me up. He looked at her quizzically as he spoke and she, understanding at once what he meant, stared at him very straightly in reply.
If you want to speak to me on the phone, Fiocca, she announced finally, you will ring me up!
He did.
He courted her and wooed her and a little while later despite his enraged familys objections he announced his engagement to her. Nancy had never known that any man could be so charming and so amusing, or that anyone could mean so much to her. It was early 1939 and they planned to marry in 1940.
Now her life was transformed. From being one of the least affluent journalists in the world, Nancy had become the fiance of one of the wealthiest men in Marseille. Money had never been of any importance to her, but now she realised that lots of it is more pleasantly unimportant than none.
Get us an apartment and furnish it, Fiocca ordered. By June she had obtained the lease of a huge flat in a luxury block on the hill that overlooks all of Marseille and its harbour. The apartment had a bathroom window that looked out over the Old Port. She had even ordered lavish drapes and Persian rugs and a bar for the drawing room. Together, she and Henri chose a huge table and the best monogrammed Svres china and crystal glasses for the dining room. Nancy employed servants to look after them when, in the New Year, she would be married. Purring with contentment, she decided that now, at last, the harsh memories of her childhood housekeeping were to be expunged forever. Never again, she thought, need she go without anything.
Meantime, Henri made her life a constant joy. He taught her the best places to eat and thought nothing of driving 150 miles to find the meal he desired for her. That was customary in the wealthy society of those days, but in those matters Fiocca was an expert and a fanatic.
He often took her to Cannes at weekends, where she stayed with a Madame Digard and her daughter Micheline. They swam during the day (this was something she did better than Henri, which pleased her) and went to the casino in the evening.
Although it is only five minutes walk from the Martinez, where Henri had his suite, to the casino, they always drove the short distance. Henri loathed walking and had a passion for cars, which he drove at appalling speed.
At the casino Nancy found she had no desire to gamble. Just not interested, she told Henri, when he offered her chips and pointed to the green-topped tables with their fringe of fanatical players who plotted every fall of the numbers and then worked out their infallible theories. Id much rather talk to Miracca.
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