The following morning, a little worse for wear, Mac had breakfast with Bill Donavan in the office of General Devers, leaving Carla to sleep in. Scrambled eggs and bacon gave way to talk of Mac's coming trip to the shores of the Riviera. Donavan ran down the history of his Office of Strategic Services. He related his belief that unconventional warfare had become necessary, replacing the siege mentality of the past European conflicts with an innovative combined strategy, favoring persuasion, penetration, and intimidation. The strategy was to integrate espionage, sabotage, guerilla operations and demoralizing propaganda to soften up the adversary before an assault with conventional forces. The method worked well in North Africa, and more particularly, in Sicily, with Mac as an important part of the implementation of this strategy. Donavan was hoping that Mac could be equally effective on the shores of southern France.
Donavan went on to relate the success he has had in the meantime with the infiltration of Vichy France. He indicated that they were in possession of their codes, and their strategy plans, having been secured from the Vichy France consulate in Washington in March of 1942.
“Your friend, Mac, Betty Pack. She joined the OSS as an operative, code name “Cynthia.” She was able to seduce her way into the safe at the Vichy French embassy with the help of her apparent lover, a Vichy French press attaché, Charles Brousse, and with the assistance of some safecracker. They were able to photograph the contents of the safe, with no one the wiser thereafter. The codes are still being used, allowing us to know all the movements of the Vichy French before they happen.”
“Well good for Betty, and for the good guys.”
“Well, that makes your mission even more secure, in that the OSS will know if you have been discovered before the Vichy French get to act on the knowledge. The danger, of course, would be the Nazis, and the Gestapo. With that, you are on your own, but your European looks, and your fluency in French, should be a big help. The Germans are not particularly adept at picking out true French, thank God. Just stay out of sight as much as possible. Your contacts once you get there know what they are doing. They have managed not to get caught in the four years that they have been busy driving the Germans crazy.”
Donavan went on to set forth what needed to be done from the south of France. Mac was to join a group of Resistance fighters, organize them, and report back with respect to what he sees on the southern coast. The group he would be joining had access to a radio, and he would be given a frequency from which he could contact the office of General Devers directly. He was to check in daily for orders, and to send back any intelligence he was able to secure. He was to get photographs, if possible, and consider the potential of the various landing beaches that had already been chosen. Simultaneously, he was to prepare the Resistance to be ready for the invasion in middle of that year, to train them for what needed to be done, and to work on the hearts and minds of the French public, all without getting caught. He was to catalog various targets, with an eye towards preventing the Germans from supplying and replenishing the troops in the north, once the invasion took place. The details would be the decision of Mac, but he was being sent with various maps and lists of potential targets.
“Why don’t you spend some time with your wife, before we have to leave.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Mac, as he got up to leave the office. “We have a few hours, don’t we?”
“Yes, Commander, we leave about two o’clock. We need to get to Barcelona before nightfall. It is back to the States tomorrow morning on the Yankee Clipper.”
Mac returned to the room, where he took Carla on a hand in hand stroll along the waterfront, watching the navy boats move in and about the harbor. Mac held his wife closely, gazing into her eyes, as he slowly pushed her flowing hair from her face. She ran her soft hand over his cheek, as she smiled at her husband, without words, in fear that she would not be able to hold back the tears.
Mac kissed his wife in front of the sea wall and balustrade at the Place St. Nicolas, on the northern exposure of the Bastia harbor, a group of uniformed men whistling in appreciation. Mac donned his hat in the direction of the sailors, took his wife by the hand, and led her back to his quarters for their final goodbye.