Rescue

Richard C. Sammis

Description

The year is 1942. Charlie Scudder moves from the Navy to the Office of Strategic Services where Penny Conklin is then in training. They are both posted to the London Station. He soon finds himself on a night-time mission to occupied France in an unarmed Lysander SD. He will be tested by this war to the death in many ways.
Through a friendship he forges with an officer in the British Special Operations Executive, Charlie is introduced to the incongruous wartime life led by many of Britain’s most privileged citizens. Long work days, even covert operations, are followed by dinners at London restaurants and, on the weekends, recuperation at a family’s splendid country home.
RESCUE is a tale of war and love in the time of war. Blending fact with fiction, it tells two stories, one of ordinary people facing death and unspeakable loss rising to the occasion and the other of love found where there was once only sorrow.

Sujets

• Historical
• Fiction

Informations

• Publié par: Archway Publishing
• Date de parution: 23 mars 2023
• Nombre de lectures: 1
• EAN13: 9781665740395
• Langue: English

Extrait

RESCUE
 
 
 
 
 
RICHARD C. SAMMIS
 
 
 

 
Copyright © 2023 Richard C. Sammis.
 
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
 
 
Archway Publishing
1663 Liberty Drive
Bloomington, IN 47403
www.archwaypublishing.com
844-669-3957
 
Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
 
ISBN: 978-1-6657-4040-1 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-6657-4039-5 (e)
 
Library of Congress Control Number: 2023904701
 
Archway Publishing rev. date: 03/22/2023
Contents
Acknowledgement
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Chapter 80
Chapter 81
Chapter 82
Chapter 83
Chapter 84
Chapter 85
Chapter 86
Chapter 87
Chapter 88
Chapter 89
Chapter 90
Chapter 91
Chapter 92
Chapter 93
Chapter 94
Chapter 95
Chapter 96
Chapter 97
Epilogue
About The Author
For my brother, Arnie, and my pals:
Alan
Bill
JB
John
Lindy and
Rick
Gone but not forgotten
ACKNOWLEDGEMENT
The author would like to acknowledge the invaluable assistance to the development of this book provided by his wife, Sally.
PROLOGUE
Charlie Scudder enjoyed himself at Dartmouth College where he majored in German and lived in his beloved fraternity house. His four years were a blur: life at Psi Upsilon, pickup games on ice or turf, the occasional romantic flirtation and enough work to graduate in 1939 with distinction in his major and almost cum laude . Immediately thereafter, he was cajoled by Helmut Kohl, one of his German professors, to accompany the man on a trip to Munich. There he continued his language studies during the last peaceful summer of the Third Reich. In late August, he returned home and took a job in New York at the National City Bank which had been arranged by a family friend.
Not long after joining the bank, Charlie grew bored and restless. An unexpected phone call from a Commander in the Office of Naval Intelligence (ONI) triggered a process that ended with his commissioning as an Ensign in the United States Navy. Charlie was shocked to learn that Professor Kohl was also an officer in the ONI and had recommended him to the intelligence agency for his German language skills. Following initial training in Newport, Rhode Island, Charlie was assigned to the ONI and sent to Washington, DC.
During this period, Charlie began a romantic relationship with Penny Conklin, a childhood friend. She was an attractive young woman studying at Pembroke who was interested in her academics and the political causes of the day. Despite a few displays of sophomoric behavior by Charlie between college and the Navy, Penny saw promise and stuck by him.
Just as Charlie and Penny had reached a meaningful stage in their relationship, he was assigned to the Office of the Naval Attaché in Berlin where he would be the only American with any German language skills. Officially an analyst, he monitored German newspapers and official governmental documents. He also attended important diplomatic and public events.
In the first week of December, 1941, a German Jewish staff member at Charlie’s office, Frieda Pelle, enlisted his help with her family’s effort to flee Germany. Confronted by a life-or-death situation, he could not refuse. He led them on a harrowing journey from Berlin to Denmark.
Charlie later transferred from the Navy to the office of the Coordinator of Information (COI), which became the Office of Strategic Services (OSS) on June 13,1942. His future in the Navy had been compromised by his heroic but unauthorized action on behalf of the Pelle family. That behavior, however, made Charlie the kind of person the COI wanted.
CHAPTER 1
A single engine seaplane banked hard away from the steep slope of a tree-covered hill, leveled out and touched down on rippling lake water. Riding atop two long pontoons, it bounced off the surface several times until settling in like a duck. Ensign Charles Scudder, USNR, seconded to the COI, predecessor of the OSS, was being delivered to Camp X (Special Training School No.103). This was a secret location on the Canadian shore of Lake Ontario. It was created under the guidance of the Director of British Security Co-ordination (BSC), William Stephenson (Code name, Intrepid) for the purpose of training Allied agents. The facility was supervised by the BSC and operated by elements of the Canadian armed forces. It was early April 1942, by which time young COI agents were being included in the classes conducted at Camp X.
The plane came to a stop, revved its engine and turned toward a wooden dock several hundred yards away. When it was secured, Charlie grabbed his bags, hunched over and moved forward to exit the plane. He was still a young man of medium build and fit, although he struggled unsuccessfully to remove himself from the cockpit with grace. Upon reaching the dock, he regained his composure and stopped for a moment to take in the surroundings. Lacking a cap, his dirty blond hair started to flutter in the wind and he freed a hand which struggled in vain to organize it. Never one to flatter her children, his mother on one occasion had described him as “not unattractive.” Large, full evergreens towered over a collection of small cabins, more like huts really, that circled a scruffy grass clearing. Three people were then walking across the area, their heads bowed in earnest conversation. Apparently, they were on their way to a sizable wooden structure covered by a rusty, corrugated roof that dominated the site. Above the front door hung a sign that read, simply, “HQ.”
Charlie walked off the dock and instinctively followed them. A cool breeze moved through the branches of the trees and brought a strong scent of pines to the lakeshore. It was late in the afternoon and the sun was then only partially visible above the western Canadian hilltops.
“Scudder I presume,” said a wiry, raw-boned Canadian from a western province in “camo” dress. He stood under the HQ sign, hands on hips, staring at the American. The thin mustache above his upper lip completed a martial air.
“Yes, sir,” said Charlie as he saluted the man, on whose shoulders he saw what he thought was a major’s insignia. Beyond that he couldn’t tell, except that the major was in good physical condition and at least outwardly friendly, having offered a much-weathered right hand in greeting. The left hand held a large manila folder, which was then extended to Charlie.
“Welcome to Camp X. I’ll show you to your quarters. Your first session with the trainers will be in Hut 12 at 1800 hours (6:00 p.m.). It’s marked on the camp map in your package. You will want to dress for rugged circumstances out of doors at night.” As the major talked, he led Charlie halfway around the clearing and past several of the huts. He continued to speak with the emphatic and unemotional tone of a career military man. He could have just as easily been discussing the two life and death options remaining to a group of trapped soldiers.
“Ah, right then, here we are,” said the Canadian, sounding almost surprised that he had found it. They stood before the door to Hut 8, an extremely humble and rustic bunkhouse built with raw wood planking. Inside Charlie saw two beds, two small lockers, two desks with lights and a lone wash basin on a small table. He passed by the major, who was holding the door open, and headed towards the unoccupied side of the room. A single light bulb hung overhead from a chain attached to the peak of the roof. An ancient wood burning stove stood in a far corner, ready to provide heat if needed on a cool northern night.
“You will share these quarters with an Englishman named Granby, same rank as me. He’s an Oxford man, Baliol, I think. Quite the brain, took his degree in physics.”
“Thank you, sir” said Charlie crisply.
“Right, well then, I’ll leave you for now,” responded the major.
Charlie looked at his watch. “Five thirty,” he said to himself. “Just enough time to unpack, change and g