Trélon, even though she was running a high temperature and ached in every limb. She collapsed on reaching Pierre’s house and died the next day.
The Hirson Platoon had now grown to some fifty-odd members. The Trélon-Glageon-Fourmies-Avesnes area was covered by an invisible network, which daily caught every German move; but in spite of Pierre’s heroic efforts, Hirson itself still eluded his grasp. He had penetrated into the town; he had even succeeded in mounting train-watching posts there to control the important branch lines which converged at this centre; but he had been unable to find a courier to surmount the difficulties of the Hirson–Trélon route. It was Gobeaux who came to the rescue.
Knowing Pierre’s problem, Gobeaux was naturally all attention when one day two Hirson workmen approached him withthe object of planning an escape to join the French Army. Gobeaux was quick to suggest to them that they should join the army of the ‘White Lady’. One of them, who took the service name of José, consented, and Gobeaux sent him back immediately to Hirson to mount a courier service between Hirson and Macon.
José, in spite of his willingness, was unable to find anyone to help him except his wife, and after making two journeys, covering the long distance alone, he gave up in despair. But Gobeaux, realising the importance of the Hirson reports, was not to be discouraged. Accompanied by an intimate friend of his, Delchambre, he set out for Hirson, early in January 1918, determined to solve the problem on the spot. Traversing the forest of St Michel, they managed to reach their destination. There they put fresh courage into José, and after many setbacks succeeded in enrolling two agents to act in a relay with him. They remained long enough to assure themselves that the Hirson train-watching posts had been definitely linked up with Pierre through the Glageon ‘letter box’.
Jubilant at the success of their mission, the two of them started back on their return journey. They were approaching the frontier, when suddenly out of the night, they heard the traditional ‘Halt!’ There was only one thing to do – they took to their heels. But the two German soldiers who composed the patrol were young, and even though the darkness and the trees prevented use of their rifles, they could run. Gobeaux and his companion realised their only chance was to hide. Crouched behind a bush, they anxiously waited for the soldiers to pass. The soldiers, however, hearing no noise, started searching around. Gobeaux whispered quick instructions to Delchambre.As the soldiers got within reach, the two jumped out on them, and made a grab for their rifles. Each grappled with his man; and, in hand-to-hand struggle which followed, Gobeaux, in trying to grab his man by the throat, stuck his thumb into his mouth. The German bit into the bone; but Gobeaux was a powerful man – with his free fist he knocked him senseless. Springing to Delchambre’s aid, he dealt the other soldier a blow over the head with the butt-end of his rifle. Taking to their heels again, they managed to regain Macon in safety.
Gobeaux nursed a broken thumb for several weeks, but as he philosophically told me after the Armistice, ‘The Hirson posts were well worth it.’ What annoyed him most of all was that he had to remain in hiding until his thumb healed: for days, the Secret Police searched for a man with a lacerated thumb.
Such a direct fight with Secret Police or German soldiers was a rarity. It was confined to the frontier struggles at the two borders, where our agents, often poachers or smugglers, were quick with knife and gun. As a rule, it was hopeless to attempt physical resistance. The spy relied on his wits, and in this he was often more than a match for his German opponent.
The Hirson Platoon functioned until the end of the war without a single arrest – a truly remarkable achievement in the face of the strict German surveillance. Its success was largely
The Hirson Platoon had now grown to some fifty-odd members. The Trélon-Glageon-Fourmies-Avesnes area was covered by an invisible network, which daily caught every German move; but in spite of Pierre’s heroic efforts, Hirson itself still eluded his grasp. He had penetrated into the town; he had even succeeded in mounting train-watching posts there to control the important branch lines which converged at this centre; but he had been unable to find a courier to surmount the difficulties of the Hirson–Trélon route. It was Gobeaux who came to the rescue.
Knowing Pierre’s problem, Gobeaux was naturally all attention when one day two Hirson workmen approached him withthe object of planning an escape to join the French Army. Gobeaux was quick to suggest to them that they should join the army of the ‘White Lady’. One of them, who took the service name of José, consented, and Gobeaux sent him back immediately to Hirson to mount a courier service between Hirson and Macon.
José, in spite of his willingness, was unable to find anyone to help him except his wife, and after making two journeys, covering the long distance alone, he gave up in despair. But Gobeaux, realising the importance of the Hirson reports, was not to be discouraged. Accompanied by an intimate friend of his, Delchambre, he set out for Hirson, early in January 1918, determined to solve the problem on the spot. Traversing the forest of St Michel, they managed to reach their destination. There they put fresh courage into José, and after many setbacks succeeded in enrolling two agents to act in a relay with him. They remained long enough to assure themselves that the Hirson train-watching posts had been definitely linked up with Pierre through the Glageon ‘letter box’.
Jubilant at the success of their mission, the two of them started back on their return journey. They were approaching the frontier, when suddenly out of the night, they heard the traditional ‘Halt!’ There was only one thing to do – they took to their heels. But the two German soldiers who composed the patrol were young, and even though the darkness and the trees prevented use of their rifles, they could run. Gobeaux and his companion realised their only chance was to hide. Crouched behind a bush, they anxiously waited for the soldiers to pass. The soldiers, however, hearing no noise, started searching around. Gobeaux whispered quick instructions to Delchambre.As the soldiers got within reach, the two jumped out on them, and made a grab for their rifles. Each grappled with his man; and, in hand-to-hand struggle which followed, Gobeaux, in trying to grab his man by the throat, stuck his thumb into his mouth. The German bit into the bone; but Gobeaux was a powerful man – with his free fist he knocked him senseless. Springing to Delchambre’s aid, he dealt the other soldier a blow over the head with the butt-end of his rifle. Taking to their heels again, they managed to regain Macon in safety.
Gobeaux nursed a broken thumb for several weeks, but as he philosophically told me after the Armistice, ‘The Hirson posts were well worth it.’ What annoyed him most of all was that he had to remain in hiding until his thumb healed: for days, the Secret Police searched for a man with a lacerated thumb.
Such a direct fight with Secret Police or German soldiers was a rarity. It was confined to the frontier struggles at the two borders, where our agents, often poachers or smugglers, were quick with knife and gun. As a rule, it was hopeless to attempt physical resistance. The spy relied on his wits, and in this he was often more than a match for his German opponent.
The Hirson Platoon functioned until the end of the war without a single arrest – a truly remarkable achievement in the face of the strict German surveillance. Its success was largely
Similar Books
