Page 9 of Echoes of Betrayal

Let me get through without the Germans questioning me.

Lizzie covered the ground until she approached the Swiss checkpoint, her heart banging so hard it echoed in her ears. An official examined her papers more closely than the French guard. Her hand shook slightly, and she shoved it in her pocket as she smiled politely and waited.

‘British?’ he asked.

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I’ve been posted to the British Legation in Bern.’

‘So I see,’ he said, his tone curt. ‘What is the purpose of your posting?’

‘I’m a translator and have come to replace a member of staff who had a family emergency.’

‘Translator to the Commercial Attaché?’

‘That’s correct,’ Lizzie said, her heart hammering as he continued to probe. Two more German soldiers drew up in an army truck and jumped out. It was time to change shifts, and these two looked more alert.

Come on, come on.

She could still be in danger until she stepped over the border onto Swiss soil. One soldier looked across at her, and she fought to maintain her composure.

When the Swiss guard saw her papers were diplomatic, he had addressed her in international style English, but now she switched smoothly to German, not wanting the German soldiers to hear the language of their enemy.

‘Everything should be in order, Herr Wachtmeister.’

Finally, the guard nodded, stamped her papers, and stepped aside for her to pass. ‘Welcome to Switzerland.’

Elizabeth Gale had made it.

CHAPTER 8

Switzerland, February 1943

The train was as punctual as a Swiss clock, and Lizzie noticed how clean and organised it was, contrasting with travel in occupied France and war-ravaged Britain. Sitting back in her comfortable seat in the heated carriage, she closed her eyes for a minute and breathed. The worst was over, and she was now in a safe haven, free to concentrate on her mission so she could return to London as soon as she collected the proof she needed.

The steady motion of the train settled her anxious mind, and she immediately thought of Hannah and how they had made a similar journey together to Bern, the previous year. The last they heard from Resistance leader Hannah was that The Lavender Network was rapidly expanding, and they were carrying out railway sabotage operations, cutting communication lines and helping Allied airmen, Jewish refugees and other persecuted people to escape to Spain. Lev, her co-leader whom she and Jack had recruited when they were undercover at Jack’s Uncle Luc’s château in Toulouse, was a skilled forger and an integral part of the French networks.

Lizzie opened her eyes and looked out the window as the neat farmland and pretty villages, untouched by the devastation of war, rolled by. The rooftops were covered in blankets of crisp white snow, and smoke billowed from the farmhouse chimneys dotted about the fields like a rustic scene in a fairy tale.

Switzerland served as a civilised sanctuary in the depths of the evil Reich, and she was happy to be out of France and not entering Germany. It was a short trip and soon she caught sight of the snow-covered Alps gleaming against the blue sky in the soft winter sunlight. Civilians of a variety of ages, and two young Swiss soldiers stood and retrieved their belongings ready to leave the train as they approached the Bern station.

Everywhere she looked was a stark reminder that here there was no brutal German occupation: no swastikas and no Nazi propaganda pinned to every public space. No menacing Gestapo men lined the train platform waiting to pounce. It was like living in Europe before the war. The train slowed and rattled to a stop, so she too stood, collected her suitcase, and slowly filed off the train, following the other passengers.

As she navigated the station, the appearance of the people she passed on her way outside struck her. There were no gaunt faces—the Swiss had rationing but nothing like the starvation levels in other countries. Their clothes weren’t threadbare, and their expressions were relaxed, not guarded as they were when Lizzie infiltrated occupied France. It seemed the Swiss were unscathed in these dark war years whilst the rest of Europe suffered under the hardships of war shortages and Nazi occupation. A couple of young women passed by, and she noted them chatting in a leisurely manner, lingering outside the station and laughing together. It was good to witness, and they behaved more like the citizens of wartime London than those living under the Boche.

Outside the station building, Lizzie heard someone calling her cover name. ‘Miss Gale!’

She turned in the direction of the voice and her eyes lit on Tom Green, the SOE agent she met briefly on her previous visit to the Legation.

‘Miss Gale,’ he repeated, his smile reaching his eyes as he greeted her. ‘Apologies for being a trifle late. I was here to meet the earlier train and had to pop back again on an errand.’

Lizzie assured him she was grateful he had come to meet her at all, and they exchanged a significant look. He would be the only person at the Legation who knew Elizabeth Gale was her cover identity, and she was here by order of the SOE for something more critical than commercial relations.

‘I brought the car. You must be exhausted after that long trip.’

A uniformed driver appeared by the smart black car and held the door open for her. Tom Green slipped into the seat next to her, and there was a faint smell of leather and tobacco in the interior. The British car even smelt like England.

‘How was your journey?’ Tom asked when the car pulled away. He played along with her cover story that she’d travelled via the usual standard route for diplomats. ‘Not too awful, I hope.’

Lizzie covered her mouth as if yawning. ‘It was long and tiring. I’m looking forward to sleeping in a proper bed tonight.’