The Hornet's Sting_ The Amazing Untold Story of World War II Spy Thomas Sneum - Mark Ryan [67]
‘Look, Sneum, I know we’ve had a difference of opinion over Christophersen. And I know you dislike him. But he’s all you’ve got, so use him and put up with it. Try to work together as a team.’
‘Yes, sir.’ Tommy decided it was pointless to argue further.
‘And if he really puts you in the shit or becomes a genuine threat to security, there’s a simple solution,’ added Rabagliati.
‘What’s that?’ Sneum expected more talk of compromise from his British handler.
‘Kill him.’
Rabagliati’s suggestion was exactly what Tommy had wanted to hear, and perhaps the colonel saw as much in his agent’s eyes. ‘But you’d need a bloody good reason,’ added the older man.
By the time they had returned to the airfield on that September day in 1941, Sneum was buoyant again. He felt as though he had gained a little more control over his destiny because of what had been said on those country roads. And to aid his mood, the weather had improved. It looked as if they would soon be ready to go.
Chapter 19
INTO ACTION
ON THE NIGHT OF 11 SEPTEMBER 1941, less than three months after his arrival in England, Tommy Sneum climbed back into the Whitley bomber with Sigfred Christophersen, and braced himself for the roller-coaster ride to Denmark. Although Christophersen was still carrying nearly all their money, Sneum put his concerns to one side and drifted off to sleep. This time there was no German anti-aircraft fire to disturb him. Before he knew it, though, the red light came on to indicate that they were flying over the drop-zone at Agerup, near Roskilde, just thirty kilometers west of Copenhagen. Sneum was woken and told to move to the exit door so that he would be ready to jump straight after Christophersen. An English sergeant checked that their static lines were securely hooked on to the rig. Then the two parachutists watched and waited for the green light. It came at 11.40 p.m., and Sigfred was gone in an instant. ‘I pushed him,’ admitted Tommy later. ‘Just in case he hesitated.’ Sneum then peered down to make sure that his colleague’s canopy had opened. As soon as he glimpsed the white flurry of Christophersen’s parachute unfurling in the gloom, Sneum prepared to jump. But there was a problem: ‘The sergeant was fooling with the static line, and before he cleared everything we had flown on another kilometer.’
When finally given the signal, Tommy jumped in a hurry. The icy air battered his face as he hurtled towards the earth and struggled to fill his lungs with the oxygen his body demanded. Suddenly he was wrenched up into the night and the parachute’s canopy began to flap noisily above him. Despite the training he had undergone at Ringway, the shock still stunned him. But he knew there would be time to regain his composure during the final, quieter phase of the drop. Or at least he thought there would be: ‘The ’chute had just unfolded when I felt something sharp tear into my legs and backside.’ Before he even had time to bend his legs to absorb some of the impact, he crashed through a barbed-wire fence backwards and slammed into the ground with an ugly thud. ‘I rolled over on my shoulder but the sudden jolt of the impact damaged my lower jaw and some of my teeth. I then felt a terrible pain just above my buttocks. I thought I must have broken something, perhaps even my back, and I was worried I wouldn’t be able to walk.’
He cursed his luck: ‘There are very few hills in Denmark and somehow we had managed to find one,’ he explained with a smile. ‘That meant the pilot must have drifted off course.’
Unclipping his parachute, he tried to stand. As soon as he got to his feet, however, he felt the searing pain