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She's currently a triple agent, right?
The unprofessional resistance think she's a collaborateuse who they will murder if they aren't happy with her spying on her German lover (although they are happy with her chicken feed).
The Gestapo think she is a collaborateuse who is infiltrating the unprofessional resistance so they can pass disinformation and eventually shoot them all.
Hopefully she has managed to pass these facts on to her normal (rather more professional) network or her Communist country doctor lover, because if there isn't some way of proving that she was a French mole already, she's not going to have her head shaved, she's going to the guillotine after the Liberation, particularly if the unprofessionals are all taken by the Gestapo and shot. In which case there's a decent chance she will be shot along with the rest of them, or perhaps just lightly tortured before being released with orders to infiltrate some more Resistance cells next, in the hope that even if they just murder her at least her Gestapo minders might catch someone going for their Judas goat.
Or she's going to have to try to end up with a career in the DGSE after the war, which I suppose at least avoids the chop but is still very much no fun.
Okay, here is her history:
Initially worked as a low level 'environmental' asset for the country doctor.
Moved to Paris as a horizontal asset on an infantry colonel and then a transportation logistics expert. Controlled by the SOE as Agent UDDER.
That ring was busted by the courier getting caught in Orleans and it has gone to ground.
Gestapo is slowly rolling up parts of the ring. She is compartmentalized as the key node was evacuated to the UK.
She was roughed up by an unprofessional French resistance group with the offer of spy or die.
She flipped to German control.
At this point if she saw markers from the SOE to dead drop information, she would do so and provide valid information. SOE at that point would probably run the hell away from her as she is a security black hole of death or if they are ambitious, they will kill her.
I think she is "merely" doubling at this point. Her priorities are staying alive and then a Free France. Right now, collaborating with the Germans allows for #1 (staying alive) to be a plausible possibility.
A double agents life is often hard, brutal and short. Once she was doubled her life expectancy is likely as short as a Spinal tap drummer.
Are the new resistance Gaulist or Communist, there was a lot of rivalry between the groups and they would willingly shoot or betray the other to the Gestapo. If SOE become aware of her current situation they might well arrange to grab her to find out when she was turned because there have to be some doubts that some of what she fed them was disinformation and then shoot her.
IOTL Germany was supplying the Italian Navy with influence mines from 1941 onwards. Seems the same here - I don't think Italy made their own.
Some if not all of those powerful new ASW ships (apparently equipped with Hedgehog ASW mortars) and crewed by experienced RN and RCN personnel could be put to good use in helping to protect the convoys sailing up the Eastern Seaboard to the New England ports and to Halifax too. They could help bring about an earlier end to Drumbeat.
If that came about than a charming Irish ensign serving in the RN assigned to an escort vessel based out of Boston may bring about a Dear John letter. Poor Patrick.
Driftless
Donor
Or Elaine gets the "Wham, bam, thank you ma'am" treatment from her charming ensign; and both Patrick and her are worse off.
The charming Irish ensign is in the USN (the equivalent RN rank would be sublieutenant). If the charmer is JFK, if Elaine is lucky there may be a brief dalliance before he goes away and she comes to her senses. If she is unlucky she may find herself pregnant. No matter what, I very much doubt that JFK would be marrying a mill girl pregnant or not. If she is Catholic, and believe she is, divorce while possible under civil law would not make her eligible for JFK. Joe Kennedy has enough money and influence to arrange for her to go away, have the baby to be adopted elsewhere, and get a fat settlement to keep her mouth shut. If she does not tell any of her friends, and is transferred elsewhere for "other war work" before she is obviously pregnant the secret might hold. Patrick may or may not get a letter informing him from a "friend" of what is going on (pregnancy or not), but if he gets a letter about this from Elaine it would be a confession and "take me back", not "Dear John", as even if JFK knocks her up and did want to marry her, Joe would make sure this would never, ever happen...
There isn't really an RN equivalent - the closest would be midshipman. Sub Lieutenant is equivalent to Lt j.g.
Don't know if the RN has the rank but the RCN has "Acting Sub Lieutenant" which is Ensign equivalent.
if I remember correctly, Elaine doesn't have to worry about getting pregnant...and could the Ensign be Joe Jr.?
She and the 4 pipers of the Asiatic Fleet truly sailed into destroyer Glory!
Not sure. Half of pacFlt cruisers went with Spruance, the other half are with the carriers. I just wanted to show an intensive training regime
Story 1566
Tunisian passes, Corps September 21, 1942
“Fuck, fuck fuck”
“Say again Charlie 6”
“Many tanks, passing Phase Line Omaha, DOG overrun, need artillery support”
Lt. Colonel Williamson overhead the call for artillery. The battery that was supporting the battalion was in disarray. Stuka strikes had hit it five minutes after dawn. Three guns would soon be able to fire but the communications wire back to the battalion fire direction center was down. Local calculations would have to be made before those guns could start firing.
Runners were starting to arrive at the command post. The racket of battle followed them. Men’s chests were heaving from the exertion in the hot sun. The private from DOG company passed the written message. It confirmed that the company was facing a battalion of Panzers and the company commander did not expect to last long. Other messages were slightly more promising as the attacks they were facing were more in the nature of holding attacks than breakthrough attacks.
The whoosh of bazooka rounds and the bangs of anti-tank guns started to be heard. Men from the forward companies were leap-frogging backwards, giving ground along the valley every time that the pressure was too great. Streams of stretcher bearers and ambulances were filling up as the battalion aid station was closed to new business. The freshly wounded were being sent back to the regiment’s aid point.
He grabbed his helmet and a rifle and knocked his driver on the shoulder. He needed to get to an observation point a mile forward where he could see the entire regiment’s position with his battalion in central focus. As the jeep moved, the three guns in the attached battery started to fire their shells in support of Charlie Company.
“Fuck, fuck fuck”
“Say again Charlie 6”
“Many tanks, passing Phase Line Omaha, DOG overrun, need artillery support”
Lt. Colonel Williamson overhead the call for artillery. The battery that was supporting the battalion was in disarray. Stuka strikes had hit it five minutes after dawn. Three guns would soon be able to fire but the communications wire back to the battalion fire direction center was down. Local calculations would have to be made before those guns could start firing.
Runners were starting to arrive at the command post. The racket of battle followed them. Men’s chests were heaving from the exertion in the hot sun. The private from DOG company passed the written message. It confirmed that the company was facing a battalion of Panzers and the company commander did not expect to last long. Other messages were slightly more promising as the attacks they were facing were more in the nature of holding attacks than breakthrough attacks.
The whoosh of bazooka rounds and the bangs of anti-tank guns started to be heard. Men from the forward companies were leap-frogging backwards, giving ground along the valley every time that the pressure was too great. Streams of stretcher bearers and ambulances were filling up as the battalion aid station was closed to new business. The freshly wounded were being sent back to the regiment’s aid point.
He grabbed his helmet and a rifle and knocked his driver on the shoulder. He needed to get to an observation point a mile forward where he could see the entire regiment’s position with his battalion in central focus. As the jeep moved, the three guns in the attached battery started to fire their shells in support of Charlie Company.
Story 1567
The White House September 22, 1942
Half a dozen families and just as many widows or mourning mothers stood on the dais. The President had moved slowly to each man or his next of kin, said a few words, and draped a medal around the necks of the men who had survived or placed it gently in the hands of the women in their Sunday best.
Josh stood tall. He was in full dress, the picture of a Marine. The medal laid underneath his throat and it hung lightly. His wife squeezed his hand as a thousand flash bulbs started to go off. Some were for the papers, some were for the families, and at least one for every man on stage was for the recruiting posters. Edna was with her grandparents. They had volunteered to amuse and watch their first grandchild while her parents had to attend to grown up things. This was also an excuse for them to visit Washington DC for the first time in their lives and to do so on the government’s dime.
An hour later, the five Jaroscheks were walking down the mall. Edna had an ice cream and was happy explaining trains to her grandfather. They walked past an anti-aircraft gun position with half a dozen very bored soldiers manning the battery. As they were turning up 3rd Street to head to the hotel near the train station where the grandparents would head back to Pittsburgh and the girls would head back to Texas while Josh had a thirty day TDY in New England, half a dozen colonels and generals bumped into them. Josh began to bring himself to attention to salute, but then he was shocked as all of the middle-aged men with too much braid and gold on their uniforms stopped him and initiated their own salutes.
He returned the salute and the family walked another three blocks. Edna would sleep in her grandparents’ room while her parents had a room and a bed to themselves for one more night. It would be recreational and intimate instead of procreative, as Margaret already knew she was pregnant again and if this time was anything like Edna, she would be too ill to enjoy herself in another week. It was once more for the road.
Half a dozen families and just as many widows or mourning mothers stood on the dais. The President had moved slowly to each man or his next of kin, said a few words, and draped a medal around the necks of the men who had survived or placed it gently in the hands of the women in their Sunday best.
Josh stood tall. He was in full dress, the picture of a Marine. The medal laid underneath his throat and it hung lightly. His wife squeezed his hand as a thousand flash bulbs started to go off. Some were for the papers, some were for the families, and at least one for every man on stage was for the recruiting posters. Edna was with her grandparents. They had volunteered to amuse and watch their first grandchild while her parents had to attend to grown up things. This was also an excuse for them to visit Washington DC for the first time in their lives and to do so on the government’s dime.
An hour later, the five Jaroscheks were walking down the mall. Edna had an ice cream and was happy explaining trains to her grandfather. They walked past an anti-aircraft gun position with half a dozen very bored soldiers manning the battery. As they were turning up 3rd Street to head to the hotel near the train station where the grandparents would head back to Pittsburgh and the girls would head back to Texas while Josh had a thirty day TDY in New England, half a dozen colonels and generals bumped into them. Josh began to bring himself to attention to salute, but then he was shocked as all of the middle-aged men with too much braid and gold on their uniforms stopped him and initiated their own salutes.
He returned the salute and the family walked another three blocks. Edna would sleep in her grandparents’ room while her parents had a room and a bed to themselves for one more night. It would be recreational and intimate instead of procreative, as Margaret already knew she was pregnant again and if this time was anything like Edna, she would be too ill to enjoy herself in another week. It was once more for the road.
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