Hide and Seek: The Irish Priest in the Vatican who Defied the Nazi Command. The dramatic true story of rivalry and survival during WWII.. Stephen Walker
because the arrest of the three British intelligence officers was still an embarrassment to many in London.
The following month Osborne again met the Pope, who told him that, according to information he had been given by prominent German generals, Hitler was planning to invade Belgium. As he had done before, the Pope talked about a potential uprising against the Führer in Germany. He suggested that there could be a civil war and a new anti-Hitler government might have to start as a military dictatorship. Again the Pope wanted to know what, if the Führer was overthrown and a new regime was put in place, would be the basis of negotiations with the Allies.
The Pope insisted that these details be kept to a small number of people. He agreed, however, that Osborne could mention them in a letter to Lord Halifax, the Foreign Secretary, in the hope that this would have a limited readership. The Pope’s obsession with secrecy was understandable. Everyone was being watched. Every visitor was recorded, every meeting noted. Osborne’s daily habits were routinely logged and the details were stored at the headquarters of the Italian secret police. The Vatican was also in the sights of the German police attaché, who was now recruiting informers across the city to spy on the occupants of the Holy See. Although Italy had yet to officially declare hostilities against the Allies, in Rome an intelligence war was well underway. Caught up in this battle, the Pope knew that a diplomatic process had to be maintained and at the same time was determined that nothing would threaten the status of the Catholic Church. To protect the Church’s interests, he kept lines of communication open with both the Allies and the Germans.
Under the Lateran Treaty of 1929 the Vatican was guaranteed independence. This accord between the Holy See and the Italian state established diplomatic conventions as well as agreements on physical access. Italy recognized the 108-acre site, which included the Vatican and St Peter’s, as an independent sovereign state. The agreement also covered fifty acres outside the Vatican walls and gave protected status to a number of extra-territorial buildings, including three basilicas and Castel Gandolfo, the Pope’s country retreat. The accord made the Vatican City the smallest state in the world. In response the Holy See recognized Rome as the capital of the Italian state and pledged to remain neutral in international conflicts. The Pope was not allowed to interfere in Italian politics. While he felt entitled to speak out in general terms about the war, he was worried that his private discussions with Sir D’Arcy Osborne would become public and his role could be misinterpreted.
By the early summer of 1940 some of the Pope’s predictions had come true and, although the overthrow of Hitler by his generals did not happen as expected, the Germans had arrived in the Low Countries that May. A month later, despite a plea from Britain’s Prime Minister Winston Churchill, Benito Mussolini declared war on the Allies. The move would have an immediate personal effect on Sir D’Arcy Osborne. Could he continue to stay in Rome as a British representative while Italy was now at war with Britain? The Vatican solved the predicament and informed the Italian government that it could offer lodgings for diplomats within the Vatican City. As a neutral state, the Vatican could allow ambassadors and other diplomats to reside on its territory.
Back in London, Osborne’s bosses were worried that, although a move into the Vatican would enhance his personal safety, it might make communication between London and Rome more difficult. They offered him the use of a secret radio transmitter. Aware of the dangers of being caught and how such activity would compromise his new hosts, he declined the offer. Three days after Mussolini’s declaration of war, Osborne took down the British coat of arms at his office, gathered up his belongings and furniture, and moved to a pilgrims’ hostel on the south side of St Peter’s, inside the Vatican. He was to be housed temporarily in an annexe of the Santa Marta Hospice known as the Palazzina. There he was given four rooms. He took with him his typist Miss Tindall, his butler John May and his cairn terrier Jeremy. Osborne was now in a new environment, a tiny enclave shut off from the immediate dangers of war, a place where he clearly felt safe.
His temporary home was eventually transformed and at vast expense a new kitchen, bathroom and lavatory were installed. Osborne made himself comfortable, putting up paintings, portraits of the royal family, and maps of western Europe to plot the progress of the war. For the next four years this would be the headquarters of the British Vatican envoy. Sir D’Arcy Osborne and Hugh O’Flaherty were now neighbours. Theirs was a relationship which would be crucial to the operation of the Allied Escape Line.
Osborne’s new address placed him high on the list of the Italian secret police. They put him under surveillance and wanted to know if he was spying for British intelligence or passing on messages to anti-fascists in Italy. The British envoy knew he was being watched and he recorded his thoughts: ‘I believe that daily reports are sent out on our doings. They must be damned dull reading.’
As it did for Osborne, the war would have a profound effect on O’Flaherty’s daily life. While hostilities continued across Europe, the monsignor’s official job in the Holy Office started to change. By 1941 tens of thousands of Allied servicemen were being held in prisoner of war camps across Italy. The Vatican accepted that it was important that the POWs’ welfare was routinely checked to ensure they were being held in accord with international conventions. Pope Pius wanted two of his officials to visit the camps regularly. He appointed Monsignor Borgoncini Duca as his Papal Nuncio and, needing an English speaker to deal with the British prisoners, he asked Monsignor O’Flaherty to act as Duca’s secretary and interpreter. The Pope’s decision changed O’Flaherty’s life.
The monsignor would develop empathy for prisoners and would become more sympathetic to the Allied cause.
Duca and O’Flaherty began to travel around the country together, but they took very different approaches to the job. Duca was more relaxed and seemed unhurried and when he travelled by car he usually managed to see only one prison camp a day. O’Flaherty used his time differently. He accompanied the Papal Nuncio to the camps, but in the intervals between visits he would return to Rome on the overnight train. Once back in the capital he would pass on messages from prisoners to Vatican Radio to ensure that their relatives knew they were safe. The monsignor also speeded up the delivery of Red Cross parcels and clothing and helped in the collection of thousands of books for the prisoners.
O’Flaherty’s work clearly improved the morale of the POWs, but he did more than supply them with creature comforts. He became their champion, a significant move for a man who in his youth had little good to say about those who wore the uniform of the British Army. The monsignor began to lodge complaints about the way the men were being treated and his protestations led to the removal of the commandants at the hospitals at Modena and Piacenza. He also visited South African and Australian prisoners at a camp near Brindisi. There he distributed musical instruments including mandolins and guitars. Much to the annoyance of the prison’s management, the trip boosted the morale of the inmates and lowered that of their captors.
By now the monsignor was seen by the Italian military’s high command as a troublemaker. Pressure was exerted on the Vatican to remove him and eventually O’Flaherty resigned his position. Officially the Italian authorities claimed that the monsignor’s neutrality had been compromised. They said he had told a prisoner that the war was going well. It was a feeble excuse. Unofficially they wanted him out of the way because he was exposing the mistreatment of prisoners.
His visits to the prison camps made O’Flaherty increasingly aware that more needed to be done to help those who were suffering during the war. He may not have realized it at the time, but it seems likely that his meetings with Allied POWs helped to crystallize his thinking. When hostilities had first begun across Europe, he had viewed the conflict as an independent neutral observer, deliberately refraining from taking sides. He had always felt that both the Allies and the Germans were guilty of propaganda and he didn’t know what to believe. He had even once remarked, ‘I don’t think there is anything to choose between Britain and Germany.’
Now, as the war came ever closer to the streets of Rome, Hugh O’Flaherty discovered where his loyalties lay.
Chapter Four SECRETS AND SPIES
‘I take my hat off to him’
Sir D’Arcy Osborne