Operation Jedburgh

By Hannah Howe

We found the third parachutist, Captain J. D. Templeman, sitting up, nursing a damaged shoulder. He’d avoided the bullets, but injured his shoulder upon landing.

We dived into a ditch. There, Mimi assessed Templeman’s shoulder. She judged that nothing was broken, or dislocated.

“You have a lovely touch,” Templeman smiled at Mimi.

“A fresh one,” Mimi scowled, turning to face me.

“As the spring dew,” Templeman said. He reached out and pinched Mimi’s bottom. In the midst of a raging battle, he actually pinched Mimi’s bottom. She swung around and slapped him across his face.

Unperturbed, acting as though a slapped face were a common occurrence, Templeman straightened his uniform and asked, “What happened? Why wasn’t this drop zone secure?”

“We’ll assess that later,” I said. “For now, we need to get you to safety.”

• Language: English
• Publisher: Goylake Publishing
• Release date: Apr 29, 2023
• ISBN: 9781739287733

Hannah Howe

Hannah Howe is the bestselling author of the Sam Smith Mystery Series (Sam's Song, book one in the series, has reached number one on the amazon.com private detective chart on seven separate occasions and the number one position in Australia). Hannah lives in the picturesque county of Glamorgan with her partner and their two children. She has a university degree and a background in psychology, which she uses as a basis for her novels.Hannah began her writing career at school when her teacher asked her to write the school play. She has been writing ever since. When not writing or researching Hannah enjoys reading, genealogy, music, chess and classic black and white movies. She has a deep knowledge of nineteenth and twentieth century popular culture and is a keen student of the private detective novel and its history.Hannah's books are available in print, as audio books and eBooks from all major retailers: Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Google Play, Kobo, iBooks, etc. For more details please visit https://hannah-howe.comThe Sam Smith Mystery Series in book order:Sam's SongLove and BulletsThe Big ChillRipperThe Hermit of HisaryaSecrets and LiesFamily HonourSins of the FatherSmoke and MirrorsStardustMind GamesDigging in the DirtA Parcel of RoguesBostonThe Devil and Ms DevlinSnow in AugustLooking for Rosanna MeeStormy WeatherDamagedEve’s War: Heroines of SOEOperation ZigzagOperation LocksmithOperation BroadswordOperation TreasureOperation SherlockOperation CameoOperation RoseOperation WatchmakerOperation OverlordOperation Jedburgh (to follow)Operation Butterfly (to follow)Operation Liberty (to follow)The Golden Age of HollywoodTula: A 1920s Novel (to follow)The Olive Tree: A Spanish Civil War SagaRootsBranchesLeavesFruitFlowersThe Ann's War Mystery Series in book order:BetrayalInvasionBlackmailEscapeVictoryStandalone NovelsSaving Grace: A Victorian MysteryColette: A Schoolteacher’s War (to follow)What readers have been saying about the Sam Smith Mystery Series and Hannah Howe..."Hannah Howe is a very talented writer.""A gem of a read.""Sam Smith is the most interesting female sleuth in detective fiction. She leaves all the others standing.""Hannah Howe's writing style reminds you of the Grandmasters of private detective fiction - Dashiell Hammett, Raymond Chandler and Robert B. Parker.""Sam is an endearing character. Her assessments of some of the people she encounters will make you laugh at her wicked mind. At other times, you'll cry at the pain she's suffered.""Sam is the kind of non-assuming heroine that I couldn't help but love.""Sam's Song was a wonderful find and a thoroughly engaging read. The first book in the Sam Smith mystery series, this book starts off as a winner!""Sam is an interesting and very believable character.""Gripping and believable at the same time, very well written.""Sam is a great heroine who challenges stereotypes.""Hannah Howe is a fabulous writer.""I can't wait to read the next in the series!""The Big Chill is light reading, but packs powerful messages.""This series just gets better and better.""What makes this book stand well above the rest of detective thrillers is the attention to the little details that makes everything so real.""Sam is a rounded and very real character.""Howe is an author to watch, able to change the tone from light hearted to more thoughtful, making this an easy and yet very rewarding read. Cracking!""Fabulous book by a fabulous author-I highly recommended this series!""Howe writes her characters with depth and makes them very engaging.""I loved the easy conversational style the author used throughout. Some of the colourful ways that the main character expressed herself actually made me laugh!""I loved Hannah Howe's writing style -- poignant one moment, terrifying the next, funny the next moment. I would be on the edge of my seat praying Sam wouldn't get hurt, and then she'd say a one-liner or think something funny, and I'd chuckle and catch my breath. Love it!""Sam's Song is no lightweight suspense book. Howe deals with drugs, spousal abuse, child abuse, and more. While the topics she writes about are heavy, Howe does a fantastic job of giving the reader the brutal truth while showing us there is still good in life and hope for better days to come."

Book preview

Chapter One

July 1944

Battles were raging throughout France, battles for the control of France, mainly centred on key towns, cities and bridges.

The situation was chaotic, the overall picture, opaque. From fragmentary pieces of information, rumour and gossip, we tried to get a sense of how the invasion was progressing. Depending on your source, be it optimistic or pessimistic, the Allies had liberated Paris or the Allies were retreating to the beaches.

Our main source of information was Major-General Colin Cunningham Arthur, in London. Even with him, we were aware that he was withholding information and spinning the details to suit his needs.

For a sense of how the invasion was progressing, we needed to rely on the evidence before our eyes. That evidence suggested that we were winning, that the Allies were advancing and that the Germans were in retreat. Like the cherry blossom in the air, there was a faint scent of approaching liberty.

In a forest south of Saint-Guinoux, I caught up with Jean-Claude Quiniou and his Maquis. The Nazis had vacated our area. Nevertheless, there was no telling when they might return and seek to round-up the key members of our Maquis. Therefore, for now, Jean-Claude insisted that his men should remain in the forest, away from their workplaces and families.

For their practical needs and money, the Maquis relied upon airdrops from London. However, these airdrops were becoming increasingly infrequent. Arthur didn’t offer an explanation, but I sensed that the main reason was a shortage of aeroplanes.

The airdrops were arriving via Hadley Page Halifaxs instead of the usual Whitleys or Avro Ansons. I surmised that our Whitleys and Avro Ansons had succumbed to enemy fire, or they were now operating in other theatres of the war.

I found Jean-Claude working at his makeshift forge, fashioning a large piece of metal, repairing a car axle. Guy was away, leading a mission to sabotage a railway line, while Mimi and Henri were seeking higher ground to make contact with Major-General Colin Cunningham in London.

Jean-Claude had acquired yet another car, a silver Oublié. The Gestapo’s Citroën had served its purpose. With the Allies swarming around now, the Citroën could attract friendly fire.

Pausing to mop his brow, Jean-Claude offered me a friendly smile. "Still searching for Hauptsturmführer Klaus Raab?" he asked.

I nodded. I’d been touring the local pubs, cafés and markets enquiring about Raab’s whereabouts.

There’s been no sign of him, I said.

Jean-Claude shrugged. Maybe he received orders to travel north to help block the advance.

That’s possible, I said. Although I heard a rumour that he was spotted in Bayeux wearing civilian clothes.

Jean-Claude heated the axle in his forge. He picked up a large hammer and gave the hot metal a series of heavy thumps. He continued to speak without pausing for breath. Jean-Claude was a very strong man, one of the strongest I’d met. He arm wrestled for fun, and always emerged the winner.

Raab’s deserted, Jean-Claude mused, and is looking to rescue himself?

Someone like Raab always looks out for number one, I said. If he believes that the Allies will liberate France, he’ll be aware that he has no future. His best chance might be to escape to a neutral or friendly country.

I paused and brushed a bee away from my nose. Despite my arm waving, the bee continued to show an interest in me. Indeed, he looked as though he wanted to settle on my nose.

Jean-Claude noticed the bee and said, He likes you because you’re sweet.

I rocked back at that and laughed.

Returning to the subject of Hauptsturmführer Klaus Raab, I said, There’ll be trials after the war. If the Allies capture Raab, there’s a good chance that he’ll stand trial accused of war crimes.

If Raab is a true believer, Jean-Claude said, he’ll stand and fight.

I’m not sure that Raab is a true believer, I said. He’s an opportunist. Sure, Nazi ideology appeals to him, but I don’t think his belief is so strong that he’ll sacrifice his life.

Using his tongs, Jean-Claude held the repaired axle up to the light. He lifted the heavy weight without any apparent effort. He’d used his time in the forest well, to improve his already well-honed physique. There was no doubt in my mind that he was considerably fitter now than on the day we met upon my arrival in France.

It’s nice to think that we’ll win, Jean-Claude said.

The sun reflected off the axle and Jean-Claude offered a smile of satisfaction, acknowledging his handiwork.

Now, I said, there’s a real sense that victory is possible.

Yes, Jean-Claude agreed, reports suggest that the Allies are making progress. If the planning is sound and the supply lines remain true, I believe they’ll reach Paris before the autumn.

Once they liberate Paris, I said, the end will be in sight.

Jean-Claude nodded. He picked up the axle and walked over to the Oublié. Like a dutiful French poodle, I followed.

On our way to the Oublié, I noticed Aymer, a corn stalk in his mouth, leading a group of men deeper into the forest for a round of target practice. The men were an odd assortment of people, from all sections of society.

At times of peace, the classes lived apart, yet at times of crisis, there was a need for them to come together. I wasn’t a political scientist; politicians of all persuasions annoyed me, but I wondered if there was a message in there somewhere.

What of France after the war? I asked, as Jean-Claude lay on the grass, under the car.

There’ll be a lot to rebuild, he said, a lot to repair.

You should profit from the repairs.

Jean-Claude popped his head out from under the car and smiled. I have no qualms about my business. I think I will prosper.

What about the political map of the country? I asked.

I suspect De Gaulle will return and claim victory for himself.

I couldn’t see Jean-Claude’s face, to read his expression, but from his tone, he didn’t sound too thrilled.

Are you happy with that? I asked.

Many people remained to fight, Jean-Claude said, securing the axle to the car’s chassis, "but I can understand why he went into exile. De Gaulle will probably lead France, but I believe we need someone