The Secret Routes To Escape Nazi-Occupied Europe During World War 2 | The Last Passage | Timeline

There was a time when life was like a suspense novel, when these rooms hid passing strangers on their long and dangerous journey home, when many never knew how it would end. It was a wet winter's night, when yet another group arrived at a farmhouse in an isolated valley. They would not be the first to come, but they would be the last. We had to walk, and it rained the whole time. We got very wet. Anyway, when we got to the farmhouse, it was a nice fire there. We got dry in front of the fire, and we had hot soup. All of them were there together for different reasons, to survive, to escape, to help. But they all wanted the same thing, to avoid being captured. We will try again tomorrow. Did you ever think, what if it hadn't been raining? Oh, yes, I've often thought that. We would have gone that night, and I'd have been in Spain the next day, instead of being caught by the Germans. Yes, yes, I'd have got home. Stanley's story began a few months earlier, when he was returning from a reconnaissance mission over occupied territory. My pilot decided to let me bail out first, and then I jumped out, and landed in Belgium, quite near to where my mother had lived. Anyway, I got help, and I went to Brussels. And I saw a little cafe, and I went in the cafe, and asked for a beer. And she said to me, you're not Belgian. I said, no, I'm Dutch. She then spoke to me in Dutch. She knew some Dutch. And of course, I didn't know what she said, so I said, no, I'm English. I'm R.A.F. All right, go and sit over there, she said. Did that, and Maurice came in, and made me absolutely welcome. Said, come over and spend the night with us, and then I'll fix you up with my father and mother. And I spent a whole month in Brussels, until they wanted to move us to Paris, where for the first time, I met Dede. André de Jong, codenamed Dede, was 23 years old when Belgium was invaded by Hitler's Germany. After the Allied evacuation at Dunkirk, thousands of people found themselves trapped in occupied territory, desperate to escape. And many of those included the Allied soldiers who had been left behind. It was around this time that Dede met another Belgian, Arnold Depey. A young man who was already involved in clandestine activities. Arnold Depey had the idea of helping people escape to England, and Dede wanted to help him. The question was how. With the Germans controlling much of the coast of Western Europe, it was impossible to cross the Channel. Heading south towards Spain and eventually Gibraltar was the answer. So Arnold Depey looked to his contacts in southwest France, and was soon sent to a house near Bayonne, the home of a Belgian family who had fled to France a few months earlier, the de Graeves. Living under the same roof was grandmother, Madame and Monsieur de Graeves, and the two children, Freddy and Jeannine. He simply said to me, Gogo is dead. I looked at him, because I didn't know. Then he saw that I said, Gogo, it was our little bulldog, little mom, who was dead. Then he said to me, your mother was there. So I said, yes, yes, yes, I'll call her. And that's how we did it. And that was Monsieur Depey, Arnold Depey. Gogo is dead. The name of the family dog was the secret password that opened the door. The de Graeves agreed to help, and soon strangers became friends. In the summer of 41, Dede and Arnold Depey set off from Brussels with another group of escapees. However, Arnold Depey was immediately caught by the Germans, and Dede was left to carry on the journey to the south. She managed to make it all the way to Spain. In Bilbao, Dede showed up at the British consulate to ask for help. But the British were suspicious. Who was this young woman who claimed to have travelled from Brussels to Bilbao with three escapers on her own? It took a while to confirm that Dede really was part of a network of helpers across Belgium and France. It was then that the British realised how useful this young Belgian woman could be for the war effort. Back in London, the intelligence services had formed a new section called MI9. It was run by a small group of British officers, many of whom had direct experience of escape. MI9 was formed at the beginning of the war, and its primary function was escape and evasion, to try and organise for airmen who'd been shot down in occupied Europe to get back to the UK. My father got involved in MI9 when he returned to the UK in about 1941. He was wounded at Dunkirk. I always got the impression he was one of the first people to start working on this escape and evasion on that section of MI9. They were there to help the lines, to give them information, and then deal with people who came back after they had agreed that Dede could work and bring over these escapees from occupied Europe. I think the one condition was that she'd try and bring over as many airmen as she could. I think that's what they really wanted. The British had a problem, and that was that Allied airmen were crashing into occupied territory and had few means of escape on their own. If a series of people could help them cross down from Northern Europe, across France and Spain, all the way to Gibraltar, where they could get back to England, then the British would support them by whatever means. The Comet Line was born. The sole interest and demand was to know the steps to be taken to avoid capture. Obtain help from a friendly inhabitant. Friendly inhabitant. Within months, hundreds of people became part of the Comet Line, a vast network of helpers of all ages and background that included entire families, from grandparent to child. The desire to help was universal. If an airman was lucky enough to fall into the hands of Comet, he was often surprised to find himself faced with a young teenage girl. Many came from families whose parents were already part of Comet, and now their daughters wanted to join. The line would begin in Belgium with girls like Elsie. A man came to see if we were suitable, if the house was okay for having people. He said, next time you'll have the visit of a young girl. And this young girl was Audrey de Jonck. Right from the beginning, as soon as we had men at home, I was busy, you know, helping with little things, like buying the necessary things for the men. Like a comb, brush, razors, you know, things like that. Also in Brussels was Nadine. When the Germans occupied, I only thought of one thing, and that was to do something against them. And it's true that at first, I did child abuse. For example, when I met a German soldier, I did this. But I could have been arrested for such nonsense. And then, very quickly, Mr. de Jonck arrived, but my sister wasn't there. But there were mom and dad, and so they talked, and Mr. de Jonck told me right away, but could you help me? If the airmen needed help in Paris, there was Diane. When I came back from Comet, I was 17 years old. One day, I came home after school, and I called my mother, who was going to the door of the service, and who was speaking in English with the gentlemen. I said, what's going on? We're speaking in English. And my mother turned around, she heard that I was there, and she started crying, because she was, I think, busy hiding American and English airmen. And I said, now, tell me, I would like to see who you work for. So, he hired me as a guide. And I was happy, because I was going to work with my mother, she was a shepherd, I was a guide, and that's how I got into Comet. Discover the past with exclusive history documentaries and ad-free podcasts presented by world-renowned historians, all from History Hit. Watch them on your smart TV or on the go with your mobile device. Download the app now to explore everything, from the wonders of ancient Pompeii and the mystery of the princes in the tower, to the life of Anne Boleyn and D-Day. Sign up via the link in the description. And in the far southwest of France, even the daughter of Madame de Graeve, 15-year-old Jeannine, decided to get involved. SHE SPEAKS FRENCH By the end of 1941, if an airman crashed in northern Europe, all he had to do was find someone who could put him in touch with a helper from the Comet line. SHE SPEAKS FRENCH It was easy to find the airman, but not so easy for the airman to find a willing helper. Bob Frost was a gunner in a plane that was shot down over the Belgian countryside. We crashed in an aircraft and survived, and I came on the outskirts to a farmhouse, and I just liked the look of the place, and I went and knocked at the door. There was a light. I went into the farmhouse in Capellon, east of Brussels, and I stayed there for three or four days, and I was taken, still wearing my uniform, to a small town in the direction of Brussels. I stayed with them for a few days and was then taken by tram to Brussels. We had to first go into villages and try and find the teacher or the priest and just speak or have a conversation with them and then try and see of what ward they were, if they were on the German side or not. And that way, we said that... We asked that if ever they heard of airmen falling round about their village, that they would let us know. From all across Belgium and Holland, airmen would be brought down to Brussels. In the byways and the lanes, every stranger is challenged and identified. And I was a seaman, so I was obviously working with the Germans to a ship in Bordeaux. And so I was going back to my ship if I was arrested. Other airmen, such as Stanley, found themselves spending Christmas a long way from home. When I was with Maurice, I used to go to a cinema. I went to a football match at Anderlecht. And then we had a wonderful Christmas dinner at his apartment. And I spent a whole month in Brussels. They kept us in Brussels until they wanted to move us to Paris. We only stayed there two nights. But Delia was based in Paris then. She wasn't in Brussels anymore. She thought it was too dangerous. So she and her father had moved to Paris and operated from there. And I was met there and taken to a house. Well, it was a shop, actually. They had a bedroom there. It was a brother and sister who used to run this shop. And they kept me for about two nights. I remember going to the cinema one night with them. They always looked after us very well. Life was difficult. There was a curfew. You had to be indoors by a certain time each night. And you couldn't go out in the morning until the curfew was lifted. And if a German soldier was walking on the pavement, you walked in the road. From Paris, they headed south, a journey fraught with dangers. One of these was keeping the airmen from accidentally speaking in their own language, something that would quickly reveal who they were. When we were on the train going from Paris to Saint-Jean-de-Luz, the train was overnight. And it was full. Del woke and saw a lady standing in the corridor, opened the door, and said, hey, ma'am, would you like my seat? And she said, thank you. In English, and sat down. And we all waited and thought somebody would have heard. And Janine didn't move at all. She remained absolutely calm. If all went well, the airmen would arrive in the southwest of France on the next stage of their journey. From the de Graeve family, the network of helpers had grown. Early on, Madame de Graeve had found an important collaborator, a Spanish exile who had contacts in the shadowy world of smuggling. This man was Alejandro Elizalde. It was here in Saint-Jean-de-Luz that Alejandro would meet with his group of friends. He was a very good man. He was a very good man, and he was a Florentine. He was a very good man, but he was a very bad man. He was a very bad man, but he was a very good man. Across the nearby border, Spain had only recently emerged from a bitter and bloody civil war. In every corner of the country, neighbor fought neighbor. Even Hitler's Germany would play its part, sending planes loaded with bombs over a small Basque town. With General Franco's victory secure, those who had fought on the losing side had nowhere to hide. And so they fled, leaving their homeland behind. Many exiles headed north to where the Bidasoa River divided France and Spain, surrounded by mountains. Once in France, they would survive in different ways. Two of these exiles were Florentino and Manuel. Both men came from a town near the border. Florentino was a mountain man and made his living from smuggling. The other exile was Manuel Laboru. Manuel escaped the Spanish side, leaving his family behind, and found work as a farmhand. It was at a farm very close to the border, the home to a young widow, Francia, and her three small children. But soon after Manuel started working, war broke out in the rest of Europe. It wasn't long before his fellow exile, Florentino, became involved, helping people escape the other way, across the border and into Spain. It was only a matter of time before Francia agreed to help. Manuel had warned her not to get involved. It was too dangerous. But Francia had to survive, and so did Manuel. My mother had to hire a housekeeper to help her with the farm work, because she couldn't do it on her own. I lived here with my mother, my little brothers and sisters. My mother was a very quiet person, very reserved. She always seemed very sad to us, she had no money, she only had enough to live on, and she had three children to raise. The farmhouse of Francia was used as a last stop in France for the Comet Line. It was the beginning of the last passage in their long journey, one that would take them over the mountains and across the Bidasoa River into Spain. Late in the night, Florentino would arrive, ready to guide his next group of airmen and their helpers. Florentino came as the guide to take five of us over the Pyrenees. He led the party. Dead Eddie Young brought up the rear of the party, and we walked one behind the other, and kept going and going and going. you could see the lights of Spain, and I felt then, I'm getting home. They had travelled for hours through the night, cold and wet from crossing the river. The men and their helpers arrived exhausted. There were still 30 kilometres left to their next destination, San Sebastian. But in between were numerous houses willing to provide some food and rest. Despite the risks. We were told to take a break. There were many things to do. We were told to stay in the forest for a while. The rest of the time, we would walk. We would walk until we reached a forest. We would walk and walk until we reached a forest. The rest of the time, we would walk. There were no other options. And a car came to collect us, a big Mercedes motor car with CD plates on it called Diplomatique and we got into the car and went and said goodbye to Florentino and Dedede Young. The Spanish side was unpredictable and dangerous but if the group of escapers could make it to San Sebastian the British would take over. Everything fine and dandy, safe at Gibraltar. Home soon, left at all, Bob Frost. Airmen such as Bob had travelled more than a thousand kilometres. For some it took more than three months and for others less than three weeks. It was a huge boost to the morale of their fellow airmen, giving them hope that if they were to crash maybe they would be lucky enough to make it home. But most of the time the airmen were not aware of the suffering that was going on behind the scenes. With so many people involved it was impossible to know who was part of Comet for the right reasons and who was not. Whether for bribes, blackmail or pro-German sympathies there were always those willing to turn traitor. And so it was that the same young girls that helped the airmen escape to England were soon to suffer the consequences. Nadine, Elsie and Diane were of many who would be arrested. Just as those in Comet used disguises and false identities to avoid getting caught, so the Germans used the same tricks. Jean-Francois, codename Franco, seemed the ideal man for the job. From Paris to the Pyrenees, Franco would become Dede's right-hand man. And so it was that in January 1943 they accompanied three airmen, one of whom was Stanley Hope, all the way to the next stage of their journey, a hiding house in Bayonne. I don't remember who took me to the house where I stayed overnight. I think it was a girl. A young girl, I think. I think we got the train to Saint-Jean from Bayonne and then we got out and we walked. And it was late in the evening and it was rain the whole time, I remember that. And we just walked along some track up to the farm. Laurentino, he came in and the weather had been very bad, it rained all the time. And he said the river was overflowing, it was very bad. And he would come back, we'd stay there overnight, he'd come back the next day and let us know if the river had gone down, because we had to ford the river. So he went off and we stayed the night. And then we were taken downstairs and lined up against the wall. They did as well, and threatened to be shot, because they told us we were saboteurs. And then as I say, one of the boys pulled out his identity tags and said we were out of here. So they didn't shoot us. It was touch and go though. In a nearby farm to Francia, lived the Larecha family, who often passed on secret documents for Francia to keep. They could never imagine the danger their neighbour was in. Dédé, Stanley, Francia, Manuel and two other airmen. What happened at the farm would have almost immediate repercussions. The Germans had managed to track down Lulu and her parents, and they were arrested. Within weeks, they were put on a train heading for Paris. Oh yes, we travelled up together, but they kept us apart. We weren't allowed to talk to each other. I tried to talk to Bill Greaves, and they stepped in, said shut up, you know, you weren't allowed to talk to each other. And Dédé, as I say, she was separate as well. She just did that to us, you know. She couldn't speak. They arrived in Paris, scared, wondering what would happen to them next. London calling in the home, overseas and European services of the BBC. When Dédé Dion was arrested, and her father shortly afterwards, they were very despondent, MI9, but they knew the line would reform. So whilst it was a pretty black day, I don't think they ever felt it was the end of the comet line. I've read, would send people out, help with the lines and everything. And I dare say they helped. They helped some of the lines, you know, with radios and with money and what have you. Jacques Le Grel was a lieutenant in the Belgian army when war broke out. He left his young children behind and headed for England. From the beginning, he was trained as a wireless operator for Comet, and sent back to Europe to act as the main link between MI9 in London and Comet in Paris. The comet line kept going. Each wave of arrests seemed to have the opposite effect. When one person disappeared, another would take their place. And so it was that Franco and Le Grel found themselves working alongside a new generation of helpers, at a time when Comet was needed more than ever. It was a time when the British and American bombings had increased very strongly. So there was an abundance of pilots. And everything was arranged, from Brussels to Paris. Each sector had a chief. Jacques Le Grel in Paris, Jean Sarment in Brussels, Mohamed Vissine in the south. And everything was coordinated. There was a kind of travel agency that we had organized. With the arrest of her sister Nadine, and their parents, Michoud-Dumont was the only one in the family to continue their work in Comet. It was a new morning in the south. It had been two years since the Le Grel family began leading a double life. And Tante Go was busy with her work, overseeing the smugglers and Basque helpers, who according to her, always had to be held in hand. The Belgian woman might have considered the local helpers as unruly. But despite the constant arrests on both sides of the border, there was never a shortage of helpers willing to keep the line going. One of these was Florentino, who decided to return to the family, who had seen what happened that day at Francia's farmhouse. Franco and Le Grel had succeeded in reorganizing the line. From north to south, Comet ran like a well-oiled machine. Working at full capacity the last six months of 1943 were the most successful time ever for Comet. However, for every one airman who escaped, 10 helpers would be arrested. This was the harsh reality of working for Comet. It seemed like a pattern had formed. For a while, things would go well. But sooner or later, something would happen. And the question was always, when? Back in Paris, the inevitable would happen. It was almost exactly a year to the day since Dede was arrested at the farm. And now, the work of her successor, Franco, and his partner, Le Grel, would come to an end. Franco was brought to the Gestapo offices in Paris, where he saw Le Grel had already been interrogated. Now it was Franco's turn to be interrogated. And he was scared. Suddenly, Franco had an idea. He remembered the night, it was Christmas Eve, when he was helping a group escape across to Spain. A group that included the chief of the Brussels sector, a man codenamed Jacques Cartier. The river was overflowing, and they thought they could make it. But halfway across, gunshots rang out. And in the panic, Jacques Cartier was swept away to his death. Franco thought of a way out for himself. Everything Franco told the Germans seemed to be true. Two bodies had been found on the banks of the river. The first turned out to be one of the airmen, a young American. The description of the other matched that of a 50-year-old Belgian man, Antoine Dorsel, codename Jacques Cartier. It was exactly the same argument as Franco's. He put all the responsibility of the organization of the line on the back of Antoine Dorsel. They knew that Antoine had drowned in the Abidjan. The Germans ignored him. So, by putting all the responsibility on the back of a dead man, they hoped that they could not save everything, but at least delay the search and the arrests. And that's when the very official trial took place. It was a military court, and all this group of condemned to death was taken to Germany. We never knew why they were not executed. Within six months of their arrests, the work of Comet was finished. With the Allied landings and many of the French railways bombed, the decision was made to abandon the escape route to Spain. However, with their work done, many of the helpers decided to escape themselves. They had made it to the British Embassy in Madrid, but it was to be a bittersweet reunion. For all of those left behind, it was always a question of how long would they have to wait for liberation, and more importantly, would they be able to last that long. Whereas the airmen were sent to prisoner of war camps, their helpers were treated differently. They would end up in concentration camps. Dede was in Regensburg, and Nadine was in several concentration camps. They had a terrible time. I didn't exactly enjoy my solitary confinement. I did 114 days solitary, but I managed to keep sane. I don't know how. After two days, it was already the end. The guard from her barracks told me to leave. I said no, I wanted to stay a bit closer to my mother. To punish me, she had me take my mother to the washroom, to put on all the corpses that were there. I know that I wouldn't have spent a winter like the one we were living in. It was over. There were a lot of girls like me who tried to hold on. In all honesty, we said we would hold on until autumn, but by next winter, 80% of us would be dead. I was arrested in January 1943. They kept telling me every day that I would be shot. We were at the end of March 1945. We were used to it. We were used to it and we were completely resigned. In Rumsdorf, six women were found alive among thousands of corpses. The day had finally come. For many, they had entered Comet as idealistic young people. But now, as they returned to their lives, their memories would always stay with them. When I was arrested, I weighed 146 kilos. I was taken to the concentration camp in 1944. I have pictures of him, very thin, in front of the door of our house. I don't remember how much he weighed, but he weighed 35 or 36 kilos. How did you adapt to a normal life? You know, it comes by itself, I think. The only thing, for a very, very long time, when I left in a car, I was all happy, and then all of a sudden I was all sad, because I thought of all those who had dreamed of that, and all those who hadn't. It lasted a very long time. In Francia's farmhouse, the rooms lay empty. The farmhand, Manuel, was right. Working for Comet was a dangerous business. Out of the six people arrested, two would never return home. Manuel died in a concentration camp, and Francia met her fate a year later. They told us that she died of an illness. They cut her head off, they shot her in the head. She was in a terrible state of weakness. She certainly didn't have long to live, but they cut her head off. Francia's three young children would never see their mother again. They shall not grow old, as we who are left grow old. Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn. At the going down of the sun, and in the morning, we will remember them. Do you think it was all worth it? Absolutely. Absolutely. Nothing else counted at that time. I hope it was worth it. There were people who, in spite of everything, were saved by the Germans. I know I would do the same thing. Whether it was worth it or not, I would do it again. That's clear. If she did what she thought was worth it, we can't judge her. Florentino was a good man, and he was a good man. He was poor, and he was a good man. He was a good man, and he was a good man. We had a lot of tension. And he was a good man, and he was a good man. He was a good man, and he was a good man. He was a good man. I regret nothing, because he came back. The thing that I think of most is Morris being shot for helping me. They wanted to know more about where I'd stayed in Brussels. They already had a good idea, because I'd kept the address, and I had it on me, and that was stupid. His grave is in Brussels. I've been to his grave. I always regret that he suffered because of me. He helped me, and he paid the price for it. I'll never forget that, never. If he had lived, it would have been all so much worthwhile, you know.