The Lady was a Spy

On a cold winter night in 1943, a camouflage DC-3 departed England at midnight, heading for the North Sea. On board, an agent of the Office of Strategic Services had been assigned a vital mission by high command.

OSS Capt. Jean Webb had the unique capabilities to accomplish the mission successfully based on her previous assignments during the past year. Once the aircraft leveled off, a tense warrior knew it was time for her to review the mission one more time. She pulled out her instructions and map and put her mind to work.

“First of all, I’ve got on my long johns,” she whispered to herself. “Then, they’ve got me in native clothes under this winter uniform. Hopefully that’ll keep my ass warm. Next, I’m carrying forged papers, and being five foot nine should be a plus, since most Norwegian women are tall. I have also downplayed my looks, appearing to be more of a plain-looking woman. Then I like the plan we developed and coordinated where the pilot drops within three hundred feet of the water when we are a hundred miles from the coast to avoid the enemy’s radar. Then fifteen minutes before reaching the coast, we’ll be joined by four British bombers, Mosquitoes. Two of them will attack the German batteries at Stavanger on the west coast, and the other two will do the same at Kristiansand on the south coast, creating a diversion and allowing us to climb to 2,500 feet and fly dark between the two targets. Like I said, I like this plan.

“Then the pilot will be on a compass heading to my drop site on the eastern slope at 1,800 feet elevation, and I’ll jump at 2,500 feet on a static line for a low-level drop. Because the air temperature will be below freezing, I’ll be breathing in an air bag, or my lungs could freeze and cause me to pass out and land in those damn trees nearby, which I’d hate. After I jump, the aircraft will turn west and down the steep western slope north of Stavanger. When it reaches the coast, it will level off at an altitude where the radar will pick them up. The reason being—the Germans are building a plant north of their descending route, and hopefully they’ll think it was checking out the construction site, located in a coastal fjord.”

Jean took a deep breath and continued talking herself through the plan. “My contact is Leif\ Larsen, an underground leader. We’ll have a two-day march to Oslo—or should I say a skiing adventure. I’m glad I took some skiing lessons and had a chance to strengthen my legs, because I think I’m going to need them to endure this damn cold outing they gave me. Now, to read my final instructions. ‘Extract your package, and by no means shall it or you be taken alive.’” As Jean finished reading, she felt her secret pocket for her little black box and then proceeded to destroy the instructions. Just then, the crew chief walked over and said, “It’s time, Captain.” Jean walked over near the departure point and heard, “Stand by the door, and hook up.” The crew chief then checked her gear, put the air-breathing mask on her, and tapped Jean’s helmet to signal the okay. Then the green light came on, and Jean heard, “Go!”