Florentino
“It is still much too dangerous for you to go back to France or Belgium. You must stay here,” Creswell replied.
The identity of the executed man in Paris, thought to be Masson, was never known. Perhaps Masson, after the Metro encounter with Lily, had a premonition that he would be a target by the resistance, and did everything possible to protect himself. He could have easily lent his trench coat to a fellow agent that night, knowing full well the agent was in jeopardy without ever knowing. Masson was not beyond doing anything to avoid capture.
Most evaders, who had to overcome travel across the Pyrenees to reach Spain, and then further south to Gibraltar, could never have done so on their own. Most often, the Basque guides would carefully choose routes away from German checkpoints to avoid encountering German patrols in the mountains. It is not a journey one would take without suitable clothing, footwear, and any necessary equipment. Yet, evaders and escapees made such journeys with their guides, often at night and with improper clothing and equipment.
Early on, the Comet Line would make numerous sixteen hour journeys at night over the mountains from Urrugne, near St. Jean de Luz, crossing the Bidassoa and then making their way to San Sebastian in Spain. Most of the time, the only stop was a small cabin up in the hills which did not offer many amenities to the airmen, but at least was out of the cold mountain air.
Florentino insisted on continuing to lead airmen over the Pyrenees, even after Lily had gone to Madrid and, subsequently, London. As long as he had his cognac in his gear, he was a happy man. When not taking airmen to their eventual freedom, Florentino would carry intelligence papers from Allied agents to Spain from France.
While returning alone from Spain on June 26, 1944, several weeks after D-Day in Normandy, he was carrying such papers rather than return empty-handed. A German patrol spotted him as he tried to elude them near the French border. He was shot four times in the leg, and was seriously wounded. While the Germans captured him, Florentino managed to hide the documents he was carrying as he crawled away.
The Germans first brought him to a police station, but the critical nature of his leg wounds forced the Germans to immediately transfer him to a hospital in Hendaye, the southernmost town in France on the Bidassoa River, the natural border with Spain. Doctors at the hospital were able to remove the bullets still lodged in his leg, which was virtually shattered. He could not be moved at that time due to the severity of the leg wounds, and Florentino drifted in and out of consciousness, making interrogation by the Gestapo impossible for now.
“Florentino is in bad shape at the hospital in Hendaye,” Tante Go stated to her husband, Fernand, at their home in Urrugne. “They will kill him, Fernand. We must do something.”
“I don’t believe Florentino will tell them anything, but he may not live if they torture him to try to get information out of him. I have a plan,” Fernand stated, “but we need to move quickly before the Gestapo get to him.”
“Elvire, go see Louis and Marcel quickly. Tell them we need three Gestapo coats and hats, one for each of them, and one for me. Have them come to the house tonight.”
“I have some work to do in the meantime.”
At seven o’clock that night, Fernand laid out his plan to rescue Florentino from the hospital using an ambulance and fake transfer papers.
“Are you crazy? What do you plan to do, just walk into the hospital and carry Florentino out, right in front of the Germans?” asked Louis.
“No, not in front of the Germans, but they do not spend all night in the hospital because they have Florentino chained to his bed. After ten o’clock, only the hospital staff is still there. I have prepared transfer documents that say we can move him to Gestapo headquarters.”
“Marcel, you will drive the ambulance, and you and Louis will be ready to take Florentino out to the van once I tell you. I will do all the talking and have all the papers to do this. I will do all the talking, is that clear? You are to just look serious waiting for my word,” Fernand stated.
Tante Go looked at her husband almost in disbelief. “Are you sure this will work?” she asked.
“No, but if we wait until tomorrow, it may be too late. Do you have a better idea? If we are not back by midnight, we had problems. But you should get the safe house in the woods ready for him if we do come back with him. I think he will need a lot of care, our friend. And have a bottle of cognac for him. He will need it.”
At ten o’clock, without so much as having gone over their plan more than two times, the ambulance pulled up to the front doors of the hospital within minutes after the German guards left the hospital area. Three men, clad in Gestapo coats and hats stormed into the hospital.
“I need to speak to the doctor in charge, right now. I am Heinrich Stempl of the Gestapo. Please hurry.”
“Yes, Herr Stempl, right away,” the attending nurse replied as she ran down the hallway to a nearby office.
“I am Dr. Beausoleil. How can I help you?”
“I have orders to move one of your patients to the Gestapo headquarters in Bayonne immediately. His name is Florentino Goicoechea.”
“But that man cannot be moved. He has very serious leg injuries. Moving him might kill him right now.”
“Do I look like a fool to you? We have doctors at the Gestapo who will tend to him. Here are all the necessary papers to move him. I don’t have all night. Is there a problem, Herr Doctor?” Fernand emphasized with his best German demeanor.
“This is highly irregular, Herr Stempl. We have never done this before.”
“Where is your telephone? Perhaps a direct conversation with my superior will convince you? I don’t recommend you waste my time here.”
“Very well, but I will need some time to get him ready for travel. I must check the bandages on his leg wounds first.”
“I told you, we have our own doctor who will see to this in just a short while. I need this man now.”
The heightened tone in Fernand’s voice appeared to clearly intimidate the doctor and his staff as they hurried down to Florentino’s room with Fernand and his two men closely behind. Marcel and Louis gently placed Florentino in a wheelchair, covered his heavily bandaged and extended leg with a blanket, and placed a second blanket over his shoulders as they began wheeling him down the hallway toward the front exit.
They reached the van in front of the hospital, swung open the rear door, and nearly dropped the heavy Florentino as they tossed him into the van. Florentino was semi-conscious and in much pain as he watched the men in amazement. Within minutes they were gone as the hospital staff watched in disbelief as to what had just happened. Thirty minutes later, Florentino was carried into the safe house.
“Oh, mon cher Florentino,” Tante Go uttered. “We will take care of you. No one will find you.”