My interest in Harry Peulevé grew from curiosity about a block of flats on Portman Square in central London, just behind Selfridges at the southern end of Baker Street, which I regularly walked past on my way home. Although I already had a vague idea of this building's connection with wartime secret agents, it was only when I eventually embarked on some background research that I began to discover what role Orchard Court had really played. From makeshift offices in one of its second-floor apartments, a shadowy government organization called the Special Operations Executive had selected, trained and despatched more than 400 men and women to organize resistance in occupied France. They came from all walks of life, civilian and military, volunteering to parachute behind enemy lines and build underground networks capable of sabotaging Germany's war effort from within. All were told of the great risks involved and the terrible consequences they faced if captured, yet few refused the challenge. Many of them were destined never to see Orchard Court again.
The heroic actions of these undercover agents quickly caught the public imagination after the war, sparking off a number of films, biographies and fictional spin-offs, though as I continued my research I became more intrigued by those whose stories had not been so widely recognized. Amongst them was one that particularly attracted my attention: an ex-BBC cameraman who had undertaken two missions, during which he overcame crippling injuries to arm and train thousands of guerrilla fighters; later captured, he endured appalling torture, deportation, evaded execution by a hair's breadth in Buchenwald concentration camp and eventually reached the American lines after spending six months masquerading as a French prisoner. Ranked by his commanding officer as one of the best half-dozen of his agents, I was surprised that his extraordinary career hadn't been represented more fully.
Initially I wondered if there could be a good reason for his relative obscurity and had reservations about how much material might still be available, but after contacting Peulevé's family in Denmark and gaining access to his unfinished memoirs, it was obvious that much of his story had been left untold. I also discovered that many who knew him were disappointed that no biography had been written following his death in 1963. To a great extent this became the reason for writing a book, to do my best to preserve the memory of an uncommonly determined and greatly admired man.
In putting this project together I must firstly acknowledge the great debt I owe to the Peulevé family, who supported me from the beginning: Madeleine and Marie-Louise Peulevé were of inestimable help in providing family documents and answering countless questions; Jo Woollacott gave me access to many other papers and photographs; and Margaret and Anna Byskov offered translations and made it possible for me to research the locations of Harry's exploits in the Corrèze, Dordogne and Cote d'Azur. I am deeply grateful to all of them for their generosity, hospitality and trust. I must also mention Tony Rushton, who was always willing to offer his assistance and was killed in a car accident just a few months before the book's completion.
Trying to find interview sources more than forty years after Harry's death was inevitably a difficult business, and many of those who appear in the story were too ill to help or have died since. However, I was privileged to be able to talk with several ex-agents, most notably Stéphane Hessel, Peter Lake, Cyril Watney and Jean Melon. I also received reminiscences and help from a number of surviving members of the French Resistance, and particularly have to thank Charles Thouloumond of the Corrèze ANACR, Alfred Pisi of the Cannes ANACR, Roger Ranoux, Raymond Lacombe, André Odru and René Coustellier.
A number of archives and museums provided essential information, and I am grateful for the assistance of Dr Roderick Bailey, Ann Brooks and the staff of the Imperial War Museum; Howard Davies and the staff of the National Archives, Kew; Samuel Gibiat and the Archives Départementales de Corrèze, Tulle; Dr Rémi Fourche and the Musée Henri Queuille, Neuvic, Corrèze; Patricia Reymond and the Musée Edmond-Michelet, Brive-la-Gaillarde; the Archives Municipales, Brive-la-Gaillarde; the BBC Archives; Westminster City Archives; Jean-Louis Panicacci and the Musée de la Résistance Azuréenne, Nice; Marie Gatard and the Amicale Anciens des Services Spéciaux de la Défense Nationale, Paris; Brian Baxter at the REME museum at Arborfield, Berkshire; Yvonne Taverny and the Grande Chancellerie de la Légion d'Honneur, Paris; the Bundesarchiv, Berlin; the Archivo Histórico Comarcal del Alto Ampurdán, Figueres; the Ministerio del Interior, Spain; and Sabine Stein and Sandra Starke of the Buchenwald Archives, Weimar.
For details on radar I have to thank one of Harry's former radio pupils, Eric Atkinson, as well as Alan Brock; Louis Meulstee supplied technical information on wireless sets. Rhiannon Looseley generously gave her time to help me with translation and research, as did Jasper Snyder and Siân Miles. Judith Hiller supplied excerpts from her husband's diary and offered additional useful information. Francis Suttill helped me with details on his father and the events surrounding the Prosper collapse. Julie Dubec and her family were able to provide me with eyewitness accounts and very kindly invited me to visit their house where Harry operated. For research on Schönebeck I have to thank Leo Finegold, and especially Thoralf Winkler and Maurice Falissard for providing invaluable sources. Bruno Kartheuser gifted me one of his excellent works on Walter Schmald, while Guy Penaud offered his considerable knowledge of resistance in south-western France. I am also deeply grateful to M.R.D. Foot for his help in answering my questions, offering many useful revisions and writing the foreword. Of course, any errors in the text are mine, not his.
Thanks also to Marcus Binney; Suzanne Melon; Peggy Watney; David Harrison; Marcel Jaurant-Singer; Noreen Riols; Eileen Nearne; Sarah Helm; Phoebe Atkins; Pamela Windham Stewart; Stuart Wright; Angela Kelly; Tania Szabó; Kay Lake; Mike Cartwright; Roger Luxton; Michael Ferrada; Colin Peulevé; Sean Taplin; Richard Pearson; Lynda Martin and Asociación San Jorge, Seville; Nadège Bidart; Denise Freygefond; Suzette Litschgy Burg-mann; J.P. Lescure; the late Gaston Collin; John Chillag; Randy Trahan, Kevin W. Murphy and Jim Dupre; Philip Vickers; Robert Marshall; Robert Favier; Thierry Watrin; Jean Overton Fuller; Kevin Reynolds; Alan Shillaker; and Bob Body. My sincere apologies to anyone I've not included. Lastly I have to thank Henry Wilson at Pen & Sword, editor Bobby Gainher, my agent Robin Wade and my family, without whose support this book could not have been completed.
I wish to thank the following for permission to reproduce copyright material: Little, Brown for the extract from Christine by Madeleine Masson; David Higham Associates for the extract from War Diaries 1939–1945: Field Marshal Lord Alanbrooke by Alex Danchev and Daniel Trotman; The History Press for the extract from Between Silk & Cyanide by Leo Marks; Farrar, Straus and Giroux for excerpts from The Theoryand Practice of Hell by Eugen Kogon, Copyright © 1950 by Farrar, Straus & Giroux, Inc.