VINDICATION

WITH D-DAY APPROACHING, TENSION in the Allied camp grew, as the operational planners wondered if tactical surprise would be achieved, and if the assault troops would be able to secure a foothold. By the end of May there were worrying reports that the Germans were looking more and more at Normandy as the site of the coming invasion. Through ‘Most Secret Source’ British Intelligence intercepted the details of a conversation between Hitler and the Japanese ambassador to Berlin. In it the latter reported to his superiors in Tokyo that Hitler believed there would be a succession of diversionary operations against Norway, Denmark, France’s southern Atlantic and Mediterranean coastlines. The Allies would also seek to establish a bridgehead in Normandy and Brittany before commencing the main attack across the Straits of Dover against the nearest part of the French coast.

This appreciation was both good and bad news for the deception planners. On the one hand it showed that Hitler had swallowed much of the Bodyguard plan and accepted that the Allies had enough troops in England to mount several large operations. On the downside was his belief that the launching of the main invasion against the Pas de Calais would depend on the success of the Normandy landings. This suggested that the Germans would go all out to defeat the first landing with a view to deterring the second.

This view was supported by the news that several German divisions were being transferred south of the Seine, where they would be able quickly to strike at the Allied beachhead. The most worrying of these movements involved 21st Panzer Division, which was confirmed as being at Caen on 21 May. At the same time there was news of considerable reinforcements being moved into the Cotentin peninsula to protect Cherbourg.1

These deployments were a grave cause of concern to Montgomery’s staff and a suggestion was made by Twenty-First Army Group to implement some ‘hot deception’ to move the Germans away from Normandy. This suggestion was rejected by Tommy Robertson, who explained to his superior, Guy Liddell, that changing course at such a late stage would be counter-productive. In order to bring about the movement of German troops it would mean having the spies tell such an enormous falsehood that

It would blow them for good. Although Twenty-First Army Group’s request was understandable, Robertson believed that Garbo should be preserved for after the invasion. It was clear that Hitler believed there were still enough Allied reserves to launch a second operation. He would, therefore, be obliged to hold back considerable reserves north of the Seine, and it would be Garbo’s job to keep them there.2

From the point of view of deception, everything in those last few days had to be done to maintain the credibility of Garbo. As the date of the invasion crept closer, Garbo insisted that one of his agents should give advance warning of the invasion, even if, as had been the case with Torch, the warning arrived too late to be of operational use to the Germans. This advance warning would reinforce the Germans’ trust in him and put him in a good position to put over the FUSAG deception. The matter was put before Eisenhower, who agreed, saying that the message could be sent 3/2 hours before H-Hour, which was set for 6.30am.

This put Garbo and Harris in a quandary. Their contact in Madrid shut down at 11.30pm each night and did not come back on the air until 7am the following day. A way needed to be found to keep the Germans on the air without causing any suspicion. The agreed scenario was an important development in the Fortitude North saga. As D-Day approached, Garbo reported that Agent 3(3) was due to arrive from Glasgow with important news about the build up of troops on the Clyde. When the agent arrived there was no real news, only that the agent believed that something was about to happen. A furious Garbo gave the agent a dressing-down and sent him back to Glasgow to watch the ships. If the troops there began embarking, 3(3) was to telephone Garbo with a prearranged codeword. On the evening of 5 June, Garbo reported to Madrid that he was anticipating a call from Glasgow some time during the night and therefore asked Madrid to be listening at the agreed emergency time of 3am.

In the early evening of 5 June, all over England soldiers, sailors and airmen were sitting anxiously waiting for the battle to begin. Likewise, in London a small gathering collected for dinner at Tommy Harris’s house before setting off to do battle in a very different way. After the meal and a bottle of good wine, Harris, Garbo, Robertson and Hesketh were driven up to Hendon to the old safe house at 35 Crespigny Road. Waiting for them there was the wireless transmitter set and Sergeant Charles Haines, who posed as Garbo’s radio operator. According to the Hesketh report, the ‘Special Means officer’ from SHAEF was also there.3 One can only speculate, but as Robertson drove up to witness the event, there may well have been a

Moment of reflection back to early 1941 when Masterman had presented his memo on the double cross system, outlining the plan to build a credible network of double agents who would all be willingly blown to pull off some great deception at a critical time.

At 3am on 6 June, already several hours after Allied parachutists had begun landing in Normandy, but still well before the German coastal troops had glimpsed their first sight of the vast invasion armada heading towards them, Haines tapped out the message in Morse.

Typically of Garbo, he did not state outright that the invasion had begun. The gist of the story went something like this: while waiting for news from Agent 3(3), Garbo had been contacted by Agent 4, Fred the Gibraltarian waiter. Fred worked at one of the armed forces’ NAAFI clubs. In April he had been posted to Hiltingbury camp in Hampshire. This was one of the troop concentration areas for the troops earmarked for Neptune, and Fred had watched with interest as cold rations and vomit bags had been issued to the 3rd Canadian Division three days before. He then learned that this division had embarked and he joined two American deserters who were running away from the embarkation points, broke camp and made his way to London clandestinely. From this message it was hoped the Germans would understand the inference of what ‘the 3rd Canadian Division has embarked’ meant.

Haines tapped out the message and waited for the response from Madrid. Everyone sat around expectantly, but nothing happened. Fifteen minutes later Haines typed out the message again; and again, and again. To everyone’s disappointment Madrid did not come on the air until 8am. It had turned out to be an awful anticlimax.