An MI5 Double Agent Nearly Exposed the D-Day Deception - Because of Her Dog

I've come across some unusual spy stories lately, but this one might be the strangest so far. In May 1944, with the Allied invasion of France just weeks away, a woman working for British intelligence admitted she had considered betraying a secret operation. Her reason was the death of her beloved dog.

Her name was Nathalie Sergueiew, better known as Lily, and MI5 had given her the codename TREASURE.

Born in Russia in 1912 and raised in France, Lily had worked as a journalist before the war. She eventually offered her services to German military intelligence, known as the Abwehr, although she intended to betray them and work for the Allies.

After receiving German intelligence training, she travelled to Madrid in 1943 and made contact with British intelligence. She was brought to England, where she began working as a double agent.

Her handler was Mary Sherer, MI5's first female agent runner. Together, they prepared messages for Lily's German contacts, mixing genuine information with carefully planned deception.

The Germans were being encouraged to believe that the main Allied invasion would take place around Calais rather than Normandy.

But there was a problem.

Lily had been forced to leave her dog behind in Gibraltar because of Britain's quarantine regulations. She desperately wanted the animal brought to England and, in December 1943, threatened to stop working unless arrangements were made.

She eventually continued sending messages, but things took a much more serious turn when she learnt that her dog had died.

Lily blamed the British authorities.

On the 17th of May 1944, she admitted to Sherer that she had considered using a secret signal agreed with her German handler. It would warn the Germans that her communications were being controlled by British intelligence.

She initially refused to reveal exactly what the signal was.

MI5 now faced a difficult decision. If Lily's messages suddenly stopped, the Germans might become suspicious. But allowing her to continue meant risking the exposure of an operation that had taken months to prepare.

Sherer decided to keep the communications going.

Fortunately, Lily never used the warning signal. The Allied landings went ahead on the 6th of June 1944, and the deception helped persuade German commanders that the main invasion was still expected elsewhere.

About a week after D-Day, Lily was dismissed from active agent work, although MI5 continued using her radio channel afterwards.

What fascinates me about this story is how much depended on Mary Sherer's judgement. Britain's intelligence services had spent months preparing an elaborate deception, and one angry double agent could have put it at risk.

All because of a dog she desperately wanted back.

Image info:

Dummy landing craft used to deceive German intelligence before D-Day, 1944. War Office official photographer, via Wikipedia/Wikimedia Commons. Public Domain.

William's Soldiers Had Had Enough - But He Refused to Turn Back

In my last medieval post, we followed the Harrying of the North during the winter of 1069-1070, when William the Conqueror's forces destroyed settlements and food supplies in an attempt to prevent further rebellion. The suffering was terrible, but William still faced resistance elsewhere in England.

By early 1070, William returned to York after he had been campaigning further north. English and Welsh forces had threatened Shrewsbury, and parts of western Mercia still remained troublesome. William decided to lead his army towards Chester, but some of his soldiers had dealt with more than enough.

The chronicler Orderic Vitalis, writing several decades later, described how the soldiers from Anjou, Brittany and Maine complained about their service. They had already been through exhausting winter campaigns, and now William expected them to march through another difficult region. Some of them demanded to be released from service, arguing that his orders were unreasonable and almost impossible to carry out.

William was not prepared to abandon his plans. According to Orderic, he refused to persuade the soldiers with fresh promises and just ordered those that were willing to follow him to continue. He reportedly dismissed the men threatening to leave as cowards.

The journey was extremely difficult. Orderic described the army travelling across mountains, through deep valleys and over dangerous marshy ground. Heavy rain and hail made conditions worse, while horses became trapped and died in bogs. At times, the soldiers were reportedly forced to eat the flesh of the dead animals.

Orderic also claimed that William sometimes walked ahead of his men, helping others through particularly difficult stretches of the journey. It is an interesting description of a king who was determined to continue, although we should remember that the chronicler was writing long after the events.

Eventually, William's army reached Chester, where he brought the remaining resistance under control. In 1070, he established a castle overlooking the River Dee. It provided a permanent Norman stronghold close to the Welsh border. The original fortifications were built using earth and timber, which is quite different from the later stone castle.

The castle was an important part of William's plans for England. Rather than have to rely entirely on armies marching from one rebellion to another, permanent fortifications allowed him to station troops, protect important routes and strengthen Norman authority.

But what happened to the soldiers who had complained?

According to Orderic, William rewarded the men who had endured the campaign and eventually released them from service. Those who had threatened to desert him were treated differently. As punishment, he reportedly kept them in service for another 40 days after their comrades had been dismissed.

By Easter 1070, William was back in Winchester. His western campaign was over, but opposition to Norman rule had not disappeared.

What do you think of Williams leadership? Do you think he should have listened to the concerns of his soldiers?

☕ Have a cuppa and let's discover history together.

Image info:

Bayeux Tapestry, Scenes 55-56, showing William the Conqueror lifting his helmet during the Battle of Hastings in 1066. Photograph by Myrabella, CC0, via Wikimedia Commons.

He Sold Britain’s Wartime Secrets- But the Germans Had a Surprise for Him

On the 26th of October 1943, a man in Ankara, Turkey approached German intelligence. He had an incredible offer. He claimed that he could get photographs of highly confidential British documents, but he wanted an enormous amountof money in return. His name was Elyesa Bazna, and he was working as the personal valet to Britain’s ambassador to Turkey, Sir Hughe Knatchbull-Hugessen.

Turkey remained neutral during much of the Second World War, and Ankara had become an important centre for diplomatic negotiations and intelligence gathering. Both Britain and Germany were anxious to influence Turkey’s position in the conflict. This made information passing through the British Embassy particularly valuable.

Bazna had discovered that his employer was unfortunately not particularly careful with confidential documents. The ambassador sometimes brought official papers into his private residence, where Bazna could access to them. While Sir Hughe was taking a bath or had gone out to play the piano, his valet secretly photographed the documents before returning them to their proper places.

Bazna contacted Ludwig Carl Moyzisch, who was a German intelligence officer attached to the German Embassy. He initially demanded £20,000 for photographs of confidential documents, a large amount of money even today. The Germans agreed to purchase his material and gave him the codename CICERO.

Over the following months, Bazna supplied photographs of diplomatic correspondence and information concerning Allied discussions and military matters. Some German officials were suspicious because the intelligence seemed almost too valuable to be genuine. Although the documents were authentic, disagreements and doubts in the German leadership prevented much of the information from being used effectively.

British intelligence eventually became aware that confidential information was reaching Germany. Security at the embassy was tightened, and Bazna’s opportunities to get the information became increasingly limited. His spying ended in early 1944, but his identity as CICERO was not firmly established until after the war.

By then, Bazna believed he had made a fortune from selling British secrets. But when he tried to use his money, he discovered that a lot of it was counterfeit British banknotes.

The forgeries were connected with Operation Bernhard, a German counterfeiting operation in which Jewish prisoners at Sachsenhausen concentration camp were forced to produce convincing copies of British currency. The notes were used to finance intelligence activities, and Bazna had unknowingly received a substantial quantity of them.

After the war, he attempted to get compensation from the West German government, without success.

Don’t you think it is ironic that Bazna had managed to deceive British diplomatic security for months, but the people paying him had deceived him in return?

Had you heard of Agent CICERO before, or did you know that wartime spies were sometimes paid with counterfeit money?

☕ Have a cuppa and let’s discover history together.

Image info:

Elyesa Bazna (Agent CICERO). Photographer unknown. Source: Wikimedia Commons - listed as public domain.

She Became Queen at Just 18

In our last Victorian post, we followed the extraordinary morning of the 20th of June 1837, when 18-year-old Victoria was woken at Kensington Palace and told that her uncle, King William IV, had died. She was now Queen, and her life was about to change in more ways than one.

For Victoria, becoming Queen meant taking on enormous responsibilities, but it also brought something she had long wanted. She could finally begin making her own decisions.

On the day of her accession, Victoria held her first Privy Council meeting at Kensington Palace. The following morning, on the 21st of June, she travelled in state to St James's Palace, accompanied by her mother, for the public proclamation of her accession.

It was an emotional occasion. Victoria later wrote in her journal that it had been "quite like a dream and a sad one". Only a few weeks earlier, she had seen her uncle there, and now she was returning as Queen.

But while Victoria was learning to manage her royal duties, some important changes were taking place behind closed doors.

Her childhood had been governed by the strict Kensington System, encouraged by her mother, the Duchess of Kent, and Sir John Conroy, her mother's adviser. Victoria had been constantly supervised, with very little opportunity to enjoy the independence most young people long for.

She had even been required to sleep in the same bedroom as her mother.

One of her first decisions as Queen was to have her bed moved into a separate room. I know that might sound like a rather small victory, but imagine being 18 years old and having never been allowed that simple freedom.

Victoria also rejected Conroy's attempts to influence her new position. She had deeply resented his interference during her childhood and was determined not to remain under his control.

Fortunately, she had someone she could trust for advice. Lord Melbourne, her Prime Minister, began helping her understand the responsibilities of government, and their relationship gradually developed into a close friendship.

Then, on the 13th of July 1837, Victoria finally left Kensington Palace and moved into Buckingham Palace, becoming the first reigning monarch to live there.

Interestingly, although she was delighted to be leaving, Victoria admitted in a letter to her uncle, King Leopold of the Belgians, that she felt sad about leaving her birthplace. Despite everything she had disliked about growing up at Kensington, it had still been her childhood home.

Victoria now had a palace of her own, greater independence and a country looking to her for leadership.

But at just 18 years old, she still had an enormous amount to learn about being Queen.

Do you think Victoria's strict upbringing helped make her determined to be independent, or did it make her early years as Queen more difficult?

☕ Have a cuppa and let's discover history together.

Image info:

Queen Victoria in Robes of State, c. 1837, by Alfred Edward Chalon. Government Art Collection / Wikimedia Commons. Public domain.

Agent Bronx

She Asked for £50 to Pay Her Dentist - But It Was Really a Secret Message About an Allied Invasion

I’ve been reading about another rather unusual Second World War spy, and this time it involves a woman who enjoyed gambling, parties and mixing in fashionable social circles. But she became a trusted source of information for German intelligence, without them realising she was actually working for Britain.

Her name was Elvira Chaudoir, and she certainly wasn’t your typical wartime spy.

Born in 1911, Elvira was the daughter of a wealthy Peruvian diplomat and grew up in Paris. She spoke several languages and enjoyed a comfortable lifestyle, although her fondness for gambling sometimes left her in financial difficulty.

When Germany invaded France in 1940, she moved to Britain.

By April 1942, her financial problems had attracted the attention of British intelligence. Elvira had connections in influential circles and could travel between Britain and France, making her a useful potential agent.

She was recruited by MI6 and sent to France, where she was encouraged to attract the attention of German intelligence.

In August 1942, while visiting Cannes, she met a man called Helmut Bliel, who had connections with German intelligence.

He offered her £100 a month to supply information about Britain.

Elvira agreed, but there was something he didn’t know. She was already working for the British.

On the 28th of October 1942, she joined Britain’s Double Cross system, which used agents to feed misleading information to Germany.

She was given the codename BRONX, apparently after the cocktail she ordered when meeting British intelligence officers.

Over the following months, Elvira passed carefully controlled information to her German contacts. Some details were genuine, while others were deliberately misleading.

By 1944, German intelligence regarded her as a reliable source.

With the Allied invasion of France approaching, Elvira became involved in a deception plan called Operation Ironside.

The British hoped to convince German commanders that an Allied landing might take place around the Bay of Biscay, in southwestern France.

In late May 1944, Elvira sent a telegram to a bank in Lisbon requesting £50 to pay her dentist.

It sounded perfectly ordinary, but it was actually a coded warning intended for German intelligence. The message was designed to suggest that an Allied landing was approaching in the Bay of Biscay.

When Allied troops landed in Normandy on the 6th of June 1944, Germany’s 11th Panzer Division remained in southwestern France.

British intelligence officers believed that Elvira’s deception had helped keep German forces away from Normandy. However, historians have questioned how much influence Operation Ironside really had on German military decisions.

After the war, Elvira returned to southern France, where she opened a gift shop. She died in 1996.

What I find so interesting about her story is how easily someone like Elvira could be underestimated. She enjoyed parties, gambling and a rather glamorous lifestyle, but beneath it all was a woman who had managed to gain the confidence of German intelligence.

And although the full impact of her work remains uncertain, her role in Britain’s wartime deception operations is a fascinating part of the history of D-Day.

Had you heard of Agent BRONX before?

Image info:

Photo: WAAF teleprinter operators at RAF Debden during the Second World War. Illustrative image, not Elvira Chaudoir. Public domain via wikipedia

England Captured a Spanish City in 1596 - But the Victory Came at a Terrible Cost

In my last Tudor post, we followed Sir Francis Drake's final voyage to the Caribbean, where his attempt to strike at Spain ended in failure and his death in January 1596.

But the war between England and Spain was far from over. King Philip II remained a threat, and Elizabeth I was concerned that another Spanish invasion might be attempted.

In June 1596, another fleet sailed from Plymouth towards Spain. This time, the commanders were Charles Howard, Lord Admiral of England, and Robert Devereux, Earl of Essex, one of Elizabeth's favourites at court. Sir Walter Raleigh also took part, and ships from the Dutch Republic joined the expedition.

Their destination was Cádiz, an important Spanish port where warships and valuable merchant vessels were gathered.

When the fleet arrived, fighting broke out in the bay. The English and Dutch forces attacked the Spanish ships, while Spanish commanders ordered vessels to be burned rather than allow them to fall into enemy hands.

English soldiers then landed and made their way into Cádiz. The city's defences were overcome, and the attackers took control.

For the people living there, the consequences were devastating. An agreement allowed many inhabitants to leave with some of their personal belongings, but much of their property remained behind. Homes, churches and other buildings were plundered, and valuable possessions were taken.

The English commanders demanded a ransom of 120,000 ducats. Around 60 prominent citizens were taken hostage as security for the payment and transported to England. Some would remain in captivity for years.

After occupying Cádiz, the English and their allies prepared to withdraw. Before leaving, they set parts of the city on fire, adding to the destruction already caused by the fighting and looting.

For Essex, the expedition brought considerable fame. He returned to England celebrated for his courage and his part in one of the country's greatest victories against Spain during the war.

Elizabeth, however, was not entirely satisfied. Although the attack had inflicted enormous damage on Spanish shipping and Cádiz itself, the expedition had brought far less financial benefit to the Crown than she had hoped.

The victory also strengthened Essex's reputation and ambition. Over the coming years, his relationship with the queen would become increasingly difficult.

I find it interesting how differently this expedition was experienced. In parts of England, church bells rang to celebrate the victory, while families in Cádiz were left facing the destruction of their homes and livelihoods.

And despite everything that had happened, Philip II was not prepared to abandon his plans against England.

Had you heard about the capture of Cádiz in 1596, or did you think the defeat of the Spanish Armada in 1588 had largely ended the fighting between England and Spain?

☕ Have a cuppa and let's discover history together!

Image credit:

The Battle of Cádiz Bay, 1596. Anonymous printmaker, 1596-1598. Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam, object RP-P-OB-80.177. Public domain (CC0), via Wikimedia Commons.

A British Safecracker Was Awarded an Iron Cross for an Attack That Never Happened

Before the Second World War, Eddie Chapman made his living breaking into safes, often using explosives to force them open. He earned plenty of money from crime and enjoyed an expensive lifestyle, but by 1939 the police were closing in on him.

In February that year, he was arrested in Jersey for burgling a nightclub and sentenced to two years in prison. An attempted escape brought him another year, and when German forces occupied the island in July 1940, Chapman was still behind bars.

He was finally released in October 1941, but getting back to Britain was another matter. Chapman decided to offer his services to German military intelligence, known as the Abwehr.

The Germans were interested. His criminal background, knowledge of explosives and apparent dislike of the British authorities made him an attractive recruit.

After training in occupied France, Chapman was parachuted into Cambridgeshire on the 16th of December 1942. His mission was to sabotage the de Havilland aircraft factory at Hatfield, where the British were producing Mosquito aircraft.

But shortly after landing, Chapman handed himself over to the British police and offered to work for MI5.

British intelligence already knew he was coming, having deciphered German communications. After questioning him, MI5 decided to use Chapman as a double agent, giving him the codename Zigzag.

His German handlers still expected him to destroy the aircraft factory, so MI5 arranged something rather unusual.

During the night of the 29th and 30th of January 1943, the factory's power plant was disguised to look as though it had been badly damaged by an explosion. Rubble was scattered around, sections of the buildings were made to appear ruined, and damaged-looking transformers were constructed from wood and papier-mâché.

MI5 even arranged for a false report to appear in the Daily Express.

The deception worked. German intelligence believed Chapman had successfully sabotaged the factory, although no such attack had taken place.

When Chapman returned to German-controlled Europe in 1943, his handlers were delighted with his supposed achievement. He was awarded the Iron Cross, a German military decoration, for an operation that had been entirely staged.

He returned to Britain again in June 1944 and helped MI5 send misleading reports about where German V-1 flying bombs were landing. British intelligence hoped this would influence German targeting and reduce the danger to heavily populated areas.

What interests me about Chapman is the enormous gamble MI5 took in trusting him. Here was a man who had spent years making a living through deception, and now British intelligence was relying on him to deceive the Germans instead.

Would you have trusted Eddie Chapman if you had been in MI5's position?

Image info: Eddie Chapman (Agent Zigzag), MI5 identification photograph, December 1942. The National Archives / Wikimedia Commons. Listed as public domain.