Free Liquidate Paris by Sven Hassel

head of the Resistance network for Caen, an engineer called Meslin, should furnish them with detailed information regarding the German fortifications in that area. They knew full well the enormity, one might almost say the impossibility, of the task they were setting him, but still they expected him to turn up with the right answers. Meslin heard the request in silence; merely put his head in his hands and wondered how the hell he was going to work the necessary miracle. Each road, major or minor, each lane, each pathway leading to the coast was heavily guarded and under constant surveillance. Anyone fool enough to be caught wandering about without an official pass was shot out of hand.
    The more Meslin pondered the way and means at his disposal, the more he came to the realization that those ways and means were limited indeed. Non-existent, he was tempted to say. Even if he found himself work with the Todt Organization he would see no more than a minute section of the beach. And there were 160 kilometres of shoreline altogether. Plainly it would require, several hundreds, if not thousands, of agents to cover the entire area.
    The task was plainly ludicrous. Meslin looked at the situation from every possible angle and decided to pass on this piece of information to London. He couldn't tell them much about the German fortifications but he could tell them what to do with their lunatic requests in the future.
    It was at this point that chance intervened, brought about a change of plan. One of the members of the group was a painter and decorator, Rene Duchez, nicknamed 'Sang Froid'. He was walking the streets of Caen, pondering the same problems as Meslin, when a notice pinned outside the police station caught his eye :
    'The Todt Organization is looking for an experienced painter.'
    For a few moments Duchez stood staring, turning over in his mind the pros and the cons and eventually deciding in favour of the pros. He turned and walked off to the offices of the Todt Organization, where a sentry pushed him roughly away before he had even the time to open his mouth. Duchez stood his ground and demanded to be taken to see an officer. The sentry, speaking no French, also stood his ground, and thus they remained, glowering at each other, until an N.G.O. arrived to sort the matter out. His French was minimal, but it served its purpose, and Duchez found himself led past the sentry box and into an office marked 'Civil Buildings and Works Controller'. The Controller took a note of his name and address and promised to let him know within eight days whether the Organization would be taking advantage of his offer. Duchez was well aware of the purpose behind the eight-day period: during that time the Gestapo would be shaking the details of his life, past and present, through a sieve of the finest mesh. Anything the least questionable, anything that could possibly give them a lead to his Resistance activities, and not only would they turn him down but his life would be endangered.
    All, however, went well. On the eighth day Duchez presented himself for work with a range of sample materials and was shown into the office of an Oberbaufuhrer. He had been there only a few seconds when the door opened and one of the engineers walked in. He greeted both Duchez and the Oberbaufuhrer with a pleasantly impartial 'Heil Hitler!' and flung down a roll of blueprints on the desk.
    'Not now, for Christ's sake!' The Oberbaufuhrer waved a hand, impatiently. 'Come back later, I'm too busy to bother with them now.'
    'Just as you like. I'm in no hurry.'
    The engineer hunched an indifferent shoulder and left the room. The blueprints remained on the desk. The Oberbaufuhrer grudgingly unrolled them, and behind him Duchez craned his neck, to see. He was hardly able to believe his eyes: the blueprints were none other than the precious plans, coveted by London, of the German fortifications all along the Atlantic wall from Honfleur to Cherbourg.
    The Oberbaufuhrer seemed