Francis had gone back to Grenoble to await the result of Maurice Southgate’s request for him to be sent to London. Still terrified by his experiences in Clermont-Ferrand, he was delighted to be with Thérèse and Jack again but knew that he would soon have to leave them. He could easily have stayed with his wife and son, picking up work as and when it became available until the war was over and life got back to normal, and it was a tempting proposition; but, at that stage of the war, it was by no means certain that the Allies would be the victors and, much as he wanted to stay, he knew that if he didn’t try to conquer his fears and do something to make France a better place for his son to grow up in, he would have failed as a father.
By the end of September, the paperwork for Francis’s arrival had been completed to ensure he could begin his training and his medical treatment immediately. He was told that his flight had been arranged and that he would be leaving France in late October and was instructed to go to Paris, where he would meet the man organizing his departure.
Feeling sick at the thought of saying goodbye to his family, Francis bid an emotional farewell to Thérèse, Jack and his parents, knowing that he was going for a very good reason. He set off for the capital, hopeful that he would be able to make them all proud of him by the work he was going to do. On 20 October he met Henri Déricourt, the SOE F Section air operations officer, a short, stout man with wiry, light-brown hair, who, Francis said, answered to two code names, Gilbert and Claude. Déricourt told Francis to take a train to Angers, 300 kilometers southwest of Paris, where he and the other passengers would meet to have dinner before cycling to the aircraft landing zone, which was between Angers and the village of Soucelles.
The train journey was without incident, but once they all reached the restaurant an argument started between Déricourt and one of the passengers. This man was known to Francis by his code name Louba, but his real identity was Henri Jacques Paul Frager, the head of the Donkeyman circuit, which operated in a large area approximately 200 kilometers to the southeast of Paris. A tall, gray-haired, bespectacled man, he was accompanied by his second-in-command, a man called Roger Bardet, whom Déricourt had believed would be traveling with Frager that night. Bardet, however, had no intention of leaving France but had merely provided company for Frager during the journey. Déricourt was furious, saying that this was a major breach of security, and tried to insist that they both leave on the flight. One of the other passengers, Alexandre Levy, Chief Engineer of the Bridges and Roads (Ponts et Chausées) section of the Public Works Department of Paris, tried to bring a calming influence to the proceedings, with some success.1 The remaining passengers, a Giraudist agent by the name of Leprince, and Francis, took no part in the disagreement. The latter tried hard not to listen but until Levy intervened it was impossible to ignore it, so fierce was the confrontation. Although Francis did not understand much of what he had heard, the altercation did nothing to settle his nerves.
Frager had been wrong to quarrel about Bardet’s presence—it was a security risk—but Frager had never liked Déricourt and whenever they met there was always friction between them. Despite the fact that only those who would be taking the aircraft to England that night should have been present at the landing zone, he was convinced that the real risk was not Bardet but Déricourt himself, and Frager’s purpose in flying to England that night was to report his belief that Déricourt was actually a double agent who had been working for the Germans for some time. It was not the first time that Frager had tried to tell those in Baker Street of his concerns about the air operations officer. He had previously provided what he thought was damning evidence of his belief, but despite this the staff at SOE headquarters, including Maurice Buckmaster, who had employed him in the first place, refused to believe that Déricourt was anything but a patriotic Frenchman.2 What was unknown to Frager at the time was that Bardet was just as much of a risk as Déricourt, as he was later found to be spying for the Germans too.3
When the meal was finished, Déricourt took the four men to fetch the bicycles he had brought for them to ride to the landing zone and wait for the aircraft to arrive. Bardet went along with them, and Déricourt still believed that he might be able to get him to board the departing aircraft too, but it was not to be.
Soon after reaching the landing zone the argument broke out again, but it didn’t last long as their voices were silenced by the sound of the arrival of a twin-engined Lockheed Hudson, piloted by Flying Officer J. Affleck of the RAF’s 161 Squadron. Four inbound passengers quickly disembarked. They included two SOE agents, Albert Browne-Bartroli (Tiburce) and Robert Benoist (Lionel), a former French racing driver. As they made their way to the reception committee sent to fetch them, Francis and his companions passed them in the opposite direction and quickly boarded the Hudson. Within a minute or two they had taken off for England. Déricourt had not been able to get Bardet onto the aircraft, despite strenuous efforts, and the second-in-command of the Donkeyman circuit returned to look after it during Frager’s absence.
It was a very nervous Francis who emerged from the Hudson when it landed in England. He had not been there since he was nine years old and, to him, it felt like a foreign country. His paperwork described him as being of medium height, with dark-brown hair, brown eyes and, curiously, a shapeless nose. His photo showed a young man who looked typically French. Despite several errors in the records, not least the one that took two years from his age, Francis was soon able to go about his business in England without hindrance. He was taken to a hotel and given a few days to settle in before being called to SOE headquarters. Whoever it was who conducted the interview, which was a standard procedure for agents coming in from the field, noted that Francis “seemed nervous and rather scared.” He was certainly not comfortable with what he was being asked, but answered to the best of his ability and acquitted himself quite well.
Having passed that hurdle he was sent to an SAB—a Student Assessment Board—prior to attending a paramilitary course in Scotland. The SAB report did not show him in a good light. His instructor was not impressed with him and made the following comments about him: “A man of exceptionally low intelligence. Rescued rather than recruited in the field. He gives no history of any sustained work and his performance here fully confirms this impression. He shows many signs of an unstable personality and should on no account be sent into the field.” Despite this uncomplimentary account of his ability, Francis was not immediately rejected.4
Instead he was sent to see the SOE doctor, Isaac Jones, who, after a thorough examination, sent a memo to Maurice Buckmaster telling him that: “Mr Nearne has an intercurrent paranasal infection which should subside fairly soon. He is not an easy mind.”5 Buckmaster scribbled a penciled note at the bottom of the report which said, “Does this mean he has a runny nose?” To those who knew Buckmaster well this was just an example of his sense of humor,6 but it seemed rather derisive, especially since he ignored the part about Francis not having “an easy mind.” Nevertheless he made an effort to help the young man and the day after he received the medical report he sent a memo to several high-ranking SOE officials, including the Director of Operations for North-West Europe, Brigadier Eric Edward Mockler-Ferryman, to try to secure a place for Francis on a paramilitary course in Scotland. He explained that Francis was
a brother of our first class couriers, DESIGNER [Jacqueline Nearne], and another sister is shortly proceeding to the field as a W/T operator. DESIGNER was especially anxious that her brother should proceed here for training. We were most disappointed in his appearance and level of intelligence, and do not quarrel with the S.A.B. rating, although we think that this may have been in part caused by nervous reaction after the strain of continuous work in the field.
We believe that this man may improve mentally and physically during training, and we stress the bad effect that his rejection and consequent disillusionment would have on (a) DESIGNER (who we hope will be here on a visit next month, and our good impression of whom has been more than confirmed by STATIONER [Maurice Southgate] whose judgment is so particularly reliable), and (b) on Eileen Nairn [sic], who is just about to proceed to the field.
I agree that one should not occupy a valuable training space out of compassion, but would be extremely grateful if you would agree exceptionally to F. Nairn’s [sic] going to SCOTLAND at least to see whether the Scotch air produces a change in his mental activity. In no case would we propose to send him out to the field until immediately before D-Day.7
Buckmaster’s plea had the desired effect and Francis was allocated a place at STS23a, the special training school at Meoble Lodge in Morar, Inverness-shire. He left London almost immediately and made his way to the isolated school in the Highlands, determined to work hard and prove that he had the ability to be as good an agent as his sisters. But despite his good intentions he was not allowed to complete the course. In fact, he stayed in Scotland for only one week before being told that he was being sent back to London on medical grounds. His instructor, Acting Lieutenant Gordon, had great sympathy for Francis and, in a report written on Christmas Eve, said of him:
Born of English parents [sic], but lived almost entire life in France, educated there, but considers his education insufficient, probably right. Worked as a commercial traveller or representative of Paris firm. Knows Boulogne s/mer, Grenoble, Paris, Nice. Married to a Frenchwoman, 1 child aged 3.
Has left us today 23rd. This is our unhappy case and he has all my sympathy. He has two sisters who are our people and well thought of, one over here now, both graduates of STS. He is a nervous man, lacking in self confidence and power of concentration. He is more than anxious to go on, and feels it very much that his sisters have succeeded where he has apparently failed. He failed SAB but came here on family consideration. He is clearly a man who has not succeeded very well in life, and with the responsibility of a wife and child, life was probably difficult. His nervousness etc. were already much better after only 5 days here, he tried very hard and to everybody’s satisfaction, and I think encouragement and sympathy plus the life and training here would have done him a world of good. He has the inestimable advantage of speaking perfect French and has done a little work in France, and although obviously not of organiser calibre, I should have thought him a better investment than most of our candidates here. He was, I think, liked by the others and no one found [him] strange. He left, I understand, for medical reasons, and buoyed up with false hopes supplied by myself, as he was so very distressed when I told him that he was returning to London.8
Thoroughly mortified and despondent, Francis came back to London and was again accommodated in a hotel, with nothing to do, while a decision was made about his future. It was a humiliating end to the poor man’s SOE career and a devastating blow to his already low self-esteem. He was alone and almost penniless, stuck in an England he barely recognized, amongst people he did not know. His nervous state became worse. He worried constantly about what was happening to Thérèse and Jack. Did they have enough money to survive? Were they well and happy? In his misery he bitterly regretted the patriotic impulse that had brought him to this uncaring place, full of hard-hearted people, and he longed to return to the warmth and comfort of his little family, where he knew that despite all his shortcomings, he was loved and appreciated. Under the terms of the National Service (Armed Forces) Act of 1939 British subjects living abroad at the outbreak of war were not liable for service with the military and only became liable once they returned to Britain. But no one had told him this and now, because of his patriotic gesture in coming to England and his desire to help, Francis was no longer going to be able to return home.