CHAPTER 25
B y Christmas Day 1942, the Eighth Army had fought its way to Sirte in Libya, about 400 miles west of the Egyptian border, and was preparing for the advance towards Tripoli. Captain Johnny Cook kept up his transmissions to Rommel’s signals group with instructions from General Headquarters. By now, he was never sure whether the transmissions were still having any effect, particularly as the Axis army was exhausted and short of supplies and probably too busy setting mines and destroying infrastructure in retreat to give the transmissions high priority. There was also good news from Russia, where it was reported that the German Sixth Army had been surrounded by the Red Army west of Stalingrad and was suffering from lack of supplies and the bitterly cold winter. It seemed only a matter of time before the Germans would be defeated in the east.
M. Henri Rousseau greeted Johnny, Jamie and Jacko at the house mid-morning.
“I am so pleased you all could come,” he said. “We can now have a very happy Christmas time while your General Monty keeps pushing the Nazis further away from here. Monique tells me that you all played some part in this.”
“A very small part truthfully, sir,” said Johnny. “We are honoured to be invited and I would like to wish you a happy Christmas on behalf of us all.”
“Merci beaucoup and the same wishes to you,” said Henri. “Please come in and make yourselves at home. If you go through to the large sitting room I am sure you’ll find Belle and Monique there, or perhaps in the garden.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Jacko, as they walked through the house to the large entertainment room. The room was festooned with Christmas decorations, and through the French windows they could see the marquee and the gardens, lakes and fountains. Several other guests and dignitaries had already arrived and were clustered in separate groups chatting to one another. Jamie commented to his friends that the garden always seemed to be in immaculate condition.
“Bonjour, mes amis,” a soft voice said behind them as they gazed outside. On turning they were greeted by Mme Sabella Rousseau who offered them a small tray of canapés with beluga caviar.
“Merci, Belle,” said Jacko. “You remember my friends, Johnny and Jamie?”
“But of course,” she said. “I am sorry we haven’t seen you more often. I am thinking you have been very busy. We have been fortunate to have seen Jacko quite often, though.”
“I am glad that Jacko brings you such good fortune, Mama,” said Monique as she walked towards them from the kitchen.
“You all know my cheeky daughter,” Sabella said with a smile. “Coquine!”
They greeted Monique like an old friend and she gave them all a kiss on the cheek, leaving Jacko until last. She kissed him on both cheeks.
“Mama, I shall take care of this unruly mob if you would like to offer some of your other guests those delicious canapés,” said Monique as she led them out into the garden.
“I must apologise that I didn’t invite your female spies,” said Monique. “My father is quite broadminded about many things including race and religion, but in many ways he is also very traditional, you understand?”
“We wouldn’t have expected you to invite them,” said Johnny quickly. “Quite frankly, they wouldn’t have expected it either.”
“Bon, bon. Are you still very busy with the Boche in retreat?”
“No, we’re far less busy but we still have things to do,” said Johnny. “I expect that we’ll have to split up eventually and these two chaps will have to return to Australia at some stage to join in the battles against the Japanese.”
Monique’s face fell. “Oh no! You spoil my happiness. When will that be?”
Johnny shook his head. “I don’t know. Whenever it is I’m hoping Jamie and Jacko can still remain as part of our intelligence group when they return to Australia.”
“Well, before I burst into tears we must talk of happier things, gentlemen,” said Monique. “This Christmas I have good news for Jamie but bad news for Johnny.”
“I am always happy to hear good news,” said Jamie.
“The good news is just walking out of the door behind you,” she said as a pretty young girl approached them from the house. “You remember Isabelle Moreau? Izzy, from last year?”
“Yes, of course,” said Jamie. “Nice to see you again.”
“Ah, my annual date. Once-a-year boyfriend, n’est-ce pas?” said Izzy. “I have been chosen to sit next to you at lunch. I hope you approve.”
“Oh, of course, I’d be delighted,” said Jamie. “Do you still work with the Free French command?”
“Yes, such work as there is to do,” said Izzy. “We are not too busy but we pretend to rush around. Do you still have bits of metal in you from your wounds?”
“You have a good memory. Yes, I can feel them once in a while,” said Jamie. “Monique said that she had bad news for Johnny.”
“Yes, I’m desolate, Johnny,” said Monique with mock sadness. “You remember Cécile?”
“Yes, of course,” said Johnny. “Has something happened to her?”
“Yes, something has happened to her,” said Monique. “She will be here today but with her steady boyfriend. A handsome young captain attached to the British GHQ here in Cairo. I’m sorry, Johnny, we’ll have to find a new lunch companion for you.”
“Please don’t worry about me,” said Johnny. “I’m just happy to be here while the Afrika Korps is so far away. We might have been their prisoners if things had gone the other way.”
“We won’t think about that now,” said Monique. “You’ll be happy to know that Papa did not invite the Russians this year. He didn’t want any more lectures about the evils of private enterprise and the delights of collective farming. Of course, a number of the British resident officers who rushed out of Cairo during the flap in July won’t be joining us for Christmas this year either, but we shall have several Americans here today. Whatever happened to that English girl, Fanny, who came with you last year?”
“I think she also rushed out of Cairo with the resident officers during the flap,” said Jamie. “We don’t know what happened to her.”
“So many people rushing around and rushing out,” said Izzy with a grin. “I’m glad some people stayed around. Otherwise where could a girl find a lunch companion?”
There was a stir as a group of musicians arrived, walked through the house and started to set up their seats and music stands in the shade of a large tree in the garden near the marquee. As at the previous Christmas party, the orchestra comprised a trombone, flutes, violins and a few six-string Syrian ouds. When they began playing traditional Syriac Christmas melodies, many of the guests who were inside the house spilled out into the garden to listen to the enchanting music.
The December weather was comfortable and the guests mingled as waiters carrying trays with drinks and canapés moved amongst them. At midday, the choir of 12 boys and girls arrived and after settling themselves near the band, they broke into a medley of Syriac and traditional Christmas carols, much to the acclaim of the guests.
As the bell for lunch rang, Monique led the way to a table and seated them so that Jamie and Izzy were together. Then, after disappearing into a crowd of guests, she appeared leading a young blonde girl whom she seated beside Johnny. As she sat herself next to Jacko, she said softly to Johnny, “This is my friend, Béatrice, who is a French secretary in my father’s company. She would like to accompany you for lunch. Be nice to her because she is a little shy but Papa thinks she is an important asset to the business.”
“I’m very happy to meet you,” said Johnny. “I’m honoured to sit next to such a lovely asset.”
“I am also happy, sir,” she said, blushing slightly. “Merry Christmas.”
Everyone raised their glasses and wished each other a Merry Christmas, including an American couple who were seated at the same table and who were discussing a rumour that President Roosevelt might visit Cairo in 1943 with Winston Churchill. As the choir sang a beautiful rendition of “Silent Night”, the turkey, goose, wine and all the trimmings were delivered to the table. Henri rose, said grace and proposed a toast to General Montgomery and the victorious Eighth Army. Everyone applauded enthusiastically.
After lunch, most of the guests, feeling the usual effects of overeating the rich Christmas fare, went for walks around the garden. Similar to the year before, by 2 pm the small music group and choir were replaced by the big band with its trumpets, trombones, cornets, saxophones, bass and drums and the dancing started. Soon the section of the terrace set aside for dancing was full of couples exuberantly spinning around to the strains of music by the American composers Tommy Dorsey, the Gershwin brothers, Glenn Miller and Irving Berlin.
“I think you have been practising your dancing,” said Izzy to Jamie. “You are very sure of yourself on the floor.”
“Really?” said Jamie. “To tell you the truth, the last time I danced was with you a year ago.”
“Ah, then it is me who is a good teacher, n’est-ce pas?” said Izzy. “You see, now you can’t say you are a poor dancer because that would be a reflection on my teaching, n’est-ce pas?”
“Yes, that’s true,” said Jamie with a laugh. “I now have to admit that I am a good dancer due to your skilful teaching.”
“You’re a nice man, Jamie, even if you are full of metal still,” she said as they danced to the music of “Begin the Beguine”. “Do any of you have steady girlfriends here? Apart from Jacko, I mean?”
“Well no, we don’t,” said Jamie. “I used to, back in Australia, but she died in an accident. How about you? Do you have a boyfriend?”
“Non, non, I haven’t really found a man to sweep me off my feet yet,” said Izzy with a smile. “I just go out with different men, but I search for the right one. Do you think this war will be over soon?”
“Nobody knows, “said Jamie. “With the Americans in the war it will be fairly certain the Allies will win but it still might be a few years, particularly with the Japanese backing the Germans.”
“So I’m stuck in Cairo for another few years before I can see Paris again,” said Izzy. “I suppose I can count myself lucky that I wasn’t there when that horrid Hitler marched into Paris. I probably would have spat at him and been shot.”
“That’s true,” said Jamie. “On the good side, you have your cousins here.”
“Yes, that is very good. You are right,” she said with a smile.
At the same time, Jacko and Monique were quietly and smoothly moving around the dance floor and they even obeyed the music when the band played the Irving Berlin classic, “Dancing cheek to cheek”. After a while they quietly slipped away into the garden and sat down beside a small lake under an old sycamore tree.
“Johnny said that you and Jamie will be shipped back to Australia soon,” said Monique. “When will you go?”
“We don’t have any idea at this stage,” said Jacko. “Our job has finished here and I suppose we’ll get our orders any time.”
“This Christmas is not so happy for me,” she said. “I don’t want to lose my Jacko.”
“I’ll write to you wherever I am,” said Jacko. “I have your address and I’ll write, I promise.”
“Papa always taught me not to curse,” she said. “But this damned war, I hate it.”
“If it wasn’t for this damned war, I would never have had the opportunity of visiting the Giza Pyramids,” said Jacko with a wry smile. “I would never have met the world’s best and most beautiful dragoman.”
“That’s true,” she said. “It’s just I can’t bear that you’re going to leave me. Maybe I’ll never see you again.”
“Don’t even think that. When the war’s over I’m not sure what I’ll be doing but I’ll keep writing, I promise. I’ll miss you very much when I leave here. It’ll probably be on some troop ship from Suez. Please don’t cry.”
“I can’t help it,” she said, wiping her eyes and sniffing. “I am usually much more composed than this. It’s my own fault for falling in love with someone from the upside down part of the world. I’ll be all right in a minute.”
“Well, even if we walk upside down we still manage to cling onto the planet,” said Jacko with a grin. “I hope you’ll see Australia one day.”
“I would love that, mon chéri. Perhaps we should go back and join the other guests now.”
*
On New Year’s Eve, Johnny, Jamie, Izzy, Jacko and Monique arranged a similar evening as the year before with dinner at Shepheard’s Hotel followed by the exotic dance show and fireworks at the Casino Opera.
The MI6 group continued to have regular morning-tea meetings with Fifi and Yvette at Le Coutume Café, more out of habit than necessity. Any other local conspirators who had not been arrested had gone to ground and were no longer supported by the Germans. Johnny continued to receive messages invented by British GHQ which he transmitted to the Afrika Korps signals group regularly. By the end of January, it was reported that the port of Tripoli had been taken by the Eighth Army and Rommel’s entire army had retreated into Tunisia.
By March 1943, the German and Italian troops were fighting on two fronts, attacked by the Eighth Army in the east and by British, American and French forces in the north and west. It was believed that the war in North Africa would soon be over.
In early April, Johnny organised a lunch at the Turf Club with Jamie and Jacko and after they had ordered their drinks and lunch courses, Johnny addressed them.
“I suggested the Turf Club because it is usually quiet at this time of day,” he said. “Gone are the days when the place was swarming with the aristocracy of aged officers. But the food is still good.”
“Yeah, and no wild horsemen galloping around the racetrack or the polo fields out there,” said Jacko staring out the window.
“I wanted to talk to you two about the future,” said Johnny, piquing their curiosity. “I may have something of interest to you.”
“Well, you’ve caught my attention. Please go on,” said Jamie.
“MI6 will be working closely with the newly formed Australian CIS. That is the Commonwealth Investigation Service responsible for counter-espionage as well as more traditional investigations of criminal activities throughout Australia and the surrounding regions,” said Johnny. “The CIS is only in its infancy and I would like to recommend that you two could be involved as senior officers in its operations if you are agreeable.”
“I’d be interested in that for sure,” said Jamie. “Where would we be based?”
“Before the war is finally over that would probably be up to your Australian defence authorities,” said Johnny. “After that, possibly Darwin but it hasn’t been properly thought through yet. What about you, Jacko?”
“Sounds good to me,” said Jacko. “You’re talking about my home territory. If my cap wants to do it I’ll stick with him.”
“Jolly good,” said Johnny. “You two work well together as a team. There would be other offices of the CIS in Sydney, Melbourne and probably Perth but Darwin is important because of its proximity to East Asia.”
“Yeah, a bit too much proximity at the moment,” said Jacko. “We’ve heard the Nips have bombed Darwin a few times over the past couple of months.”
“C’est la guerre!” said Johnny. “In the foreseeable future your defence command will probably want you in Port Moresby or somewhere close to the action. Have you received any word on when you’ll be shipped back?”
“Not yet but I expect any day now,” said Jamie. “It’s been fun working with you, Johnny. I hope we get to meet you again in future years.”
“We’ll certainly keep in touch,” said Johnny, handing Jamie a piece of notepaper. “You can always write to me at this address in London. Let me know where you are so that I can correspond with you. I’ll be involved in MI6’s liaison with CIS so you haven’t got rid of me yet. Now, here comes our dinner. Bon appétit, my friends. Eat, drink and be merry, as the saying goes.”
*
In early May 1943, Johnny, Jamie and Jacko decided to have their last morning-tea meeting at Le Coutume Café after the two Australians had been informed that they had to be at Port Suez by 24 May to be shipped to Australia on a troopship, SS Orontes , recently converted from an ocean liner owned by the Orient Line. They were discussing a transmission Johnny had made that morning.
“The radio operator in Tunisia called me a dummkopf for forgetting to change the codes on time,” said Johnny. “And then the stupid dummkopf sent me the latest changes in case I had forgotten those too. They must still believe that I am John Eppler beavering away on their behalf.”
They were all still laughing when they were joined by Fifi and Yvette, who arrived in stylish dresses looking like a couple of models from Vogue magazine.
“Ah, it is good to see you all so happy,” said Fifi. “Me! I am so sad though because we shall soon all say goodbye. Maybe you can make me happy, too, by telling me what you were all laughing at.”
While pouring out more tea, Johnny related the story of the German radio operator in Tunisia, which brought chuckles from the girls.
“The desert war is nearly over but there’ll still be a lot of fighting in Europe and the Pacific,” said Johnny. “Will you girls remain in Cairo after the war is over?”
“Non, non, not me,” said Fifi. “I have money in the bank now, so I will go to America and marry one of those handsome young American millionaires I hear so much about. The handsome and young parts are not so important,” she added with a wink.
“I don’t really like many of the available men I’ve met in Cairo – with the exception of yourselves, of course,” said Yvette. “Maybe I’ll go with Fifi to America. A handsome young man with half a million will be fine for me and perhaps I can sing with one of those American big bands, n’est-ce pas? I’ll be a famous singer making records, no?”
“I think you girls will cause a sensation in America,” said Jamie. “For myself, I would like to say that your ingenuity was vital to the job of catching all those enemy agents and it has been a lot of fun working with you.”
“Oo la! Ingenuity! Jamie always très gallant,” said Fifi. “Toujours! Merci beaucoup and I am so glad we won. I didn’t want to finish up married to a Nazi.”
*
The wharf at Port Suez was a hustle and bustle, with departing soldiers and other travellers struggling to get through crowds of merchants, well-wishers, agents, peddlers, porters, wharf workers, beggars and spectators to the gangplank joining the SS Orontes to shore. Johnny had driven Jamie and Jacko the 75 miles from Cairo in a jeep with their limited luggage and they were joined on the wharf by the Rousseau family, who had arrived in Henri’s Rolls-Royce Phantom III. They had all received the good news that the German–Italian forces in North Africa had recently surrendered, but their joy was tempered by the impending departure of their friends. Henri shook Jamie’s and Jacko’s hands and gave them both a brief hug. Belle Rousseau hugged them and kissed them on both cheeks. Monique, who was trying to smile with tears running down her cheeks, kissed Jamie on both cheeks and then grasped Jacko in a hug as though she wouldn’t let him go.
A loud blast from the ship’s horn announced departure and after affirming that he would write often and promising that the Japanese would never have a chance to catch him, Jacko gently handed Monique over to the embrace of her mother and followed Jamie up the gangplank.
Jamie and Jacko found a space on one of the upper decks where they could look down at Johnny and the Rousseau family below them. They threw some streamers as all the other passengers had done and two of them were caught by Johnny, who handed them to Monique. As the ship was unmoored and began pulling away from shore, a band started playing the “Hawaiian Farewell”. Jacko felt the ship build up speed. His last memory was of the beautiful tear-stained face of Monique amongst the crowd, a broken streamer in her hand.