L'Agent Double: Spies and Martyrs in the Great War

Chapter 3

Alouette August 1914

The smell of gasoline and the wind in Alouette's hair was as intoxicating as ever. She eased back on the stick of her Caudron, enjoying the adrenaline rush that always ensued when the plane rose higher. The French countryside below appeared just like the maps in her husband's office: the rivers, railroads, even the villages seemingly unchanged from her vantage point. The world beneath her might soon be engaged in combat, but, a few thousand meters above the ground, she was alone in the sky, the universe at her beck and call. She flew along the Somme Bay at the edge of the English Channel, marveling at the beautiful beaches and marshes that must be thronging with wildlife.

After half an hour, she began heading back to the Le Crotoy aerodrome to land, using the coastline as a navigation guide. She held the tail of the Caudron low and glided downward.

Alouette found the aerodrome in a state of commotion, with men running all about on the ground. As she turned the engine off, Gaston Caudron, the inventor of the plane, climbed up the ladder to stare into the cockpit.

"What's going on?" Alouette shouted over the noise. It sounded as though every plane in the aerodrome was running.

"We're taking the planes to the war zone."

"Okay." Alouette refastened her seatbelt and tilted her head, indicating she was ready for Caudron to spin the prop to start the plane up again.

His eyes, already jaundiced, bugged out even more. "You can't possibly think you can go to war."

"This is my plane."

He held up a hand to his mouth and coughed. "As I recall, I designed it for your husband."

"You know that Henri lets me fly it any time I want to." She tapped the ignition switch with impatience.

"Still, civilians can't fly planes during wartime." His voice softened. "You wouldn't want to hurt the war effort, would you Madame Richer?"

Alouette's hand dropped to her side. "No. No I would not."

Caudron stepped as close as he could to the edge of the ladder as she climbed out of the plane. "I guess I'll see about my motor-car in the garage at Rue," she said, navigating down the ladder as Caudron arranged himself in the cockpit.

"You'll find it a challenge to get back to Paris—all the petrol supplies have been requisitioned for the army."

"I'll be able to get as far as Amiens," she said, jumping down to the ground. "After that I shall find a way to manage, somehow."

"Good luck," Caudron replied ominously as he started the engine.

She saluted as he pulled her plane out of the aerodrome.

Alouette estimated that her car had enough petrol to carry her 30 miles, figuring she could stop at the aerodrome in Amiens, or at least a garage somewhere along the route to Paris. But near Picquigny, the car began to sputter and soon stopped completely. Alouette walked a few miles and was relieved to find a garage, albeit looking abandoned. She knocked on the closed shutters of the attached house.

A woman's hand opened the window a sliver. "Yes?"

"Can you please tell me, madame, where the mechanic is?"

The woman opened the window enough to eye Alouette up and down, from the lace neckline of her fashionable dress to the flower-trimmed hat she had donned after changing out of her flight gear. "He's gone to war," the woman finally replied.

Alouette got a similar response from the next garage she tried. One elderly woman seated on her porch did not appear as hostile and Alouette called out to her. "Do you have any vehicle I could use to take me to Amiens? My car has stalled and I need to find a mechanic."