Dr António de Oliveira Salazar, the Portuguese dictator, had risen to power after the coup d’état of 28 May 1926. Opposed to democracy as well as communism, his policies were conservative, nationalist, and Catholic. And while he distanced himself from German fascism/Nazism, he did consider Germany the last bastion against communism. Portuguese neutrality was a balancing act, and perhaps necessary for its survival. Siding with the Germans risked breaking the Anglo-Portuguese pact, and most likely losing some, or all, of its colonies. Siding with the Allies, would likely have risked tipping Spain over to the Axis, or even opening themselves up to an attack from Spain. It wasn’t until October 1943, when the tides of war were truly turning towards the Allies that Salazar allowed the British access to the Azores to build a base (Operation Alacrity).
Despite Salazar’s assertations that Portugal would not take advantage of its neutrality to profit from the war, it did. Previously a relatively poor country, it profited from the refugees who sold their belongings to buy a ticket to Britain or America, bribes, the Nazi gold, and Wolfram. Wolfram, or Tungsten, was sought after by both sides for war munitions and small mining communities suddenly found themselves wealthy. Although Portugal set up quotas for both the Allies and the Axis, British Intelligence had gathered evidence of the Germans smuggling the mineral out by a plethora of routes, some simple, some complex, and believed that there was a large amount of Portuguese involvement in these operations. Salazar firmly denied any official involvement.
Meanwhile, German Naval Intelligence was tracking the routes of the British convoys crossing the Atlantic. In addition to having people monitor the docks, the Abwehr set up brothels in the dock areas of Lisbon to attract the British seamen with the aim of extracting dates and routes, and if a target seemed particularly good, they would radio a Luftwaffe base in the south of France, who would then send out the Focke Wulfs to sink it. The Shetland and Volturno were real, and were only two of several ships to have been sunk this way.
Salazar’s surveillance and state defence police, the Polícia de Vigilância e de Defesa do Estado or PVDE was founded and led by Captain Agostinho Lourenço (‘the Director’). It was broken down into two sections: Social and Political Defence Section, and the International Section, which not only controlled the flow of immigrants and refugees, but also took care of counter-espionage and/or international espionage. Officially, they maintained a neutral stance towards foreign espionage activity, as long as there was no intervention in Portuguese internal policies, and in June 1943 the Criminal Code was amended to criminalise espionage of foreigners against 3rd parties in Portugal.
In early October 1943, the PVDE raided 3 villas belonging to German agents, including Hans Bendixen’s Bem-me-Quer, and while they found wireless equipment, they claimed to have found nothing suspect. In City of Spies¸ I took the liberty of raising a ‘What if’ that deviated from historical fact.
Acknowledgements
There’s a photo on my desk of six people clad in 1940s-style khaki tunics huddled around an Enigma machine. Over quirky cocktails, my Zaffre/Watson, Little ‘dream team’ and I discussed WW2, espionage, and publishing the City of Spies. Katherine Armstrong, Jennie Rothwell, Francesca Russell, Alexandra Allden and James Wills, I am eternally grateful for your patience, insight, and the opportunity you’ve given me. You, and the rest of the team that weren’t with us that night, Nick Stearn, Stephen Dumughn and Steve O’Gorman, have made City of Spies a much better book!
Writing a book takes a lot of hard work and perseverance, and I’m very fortunate that I have a wonderful group of family and friends who celebrated the ‘ups’ with me, and rallied me through the ‘downs’ of the publishing rollercoaster. First and foremost, my mother who might not have lived to see my book written, but always knew it would happen. My dad (a backseat historian), who used to print out a copy of my manuscript and advise on some of the technical details. My brother Stephen, sister-in-law Emily and their children Matthew and Alexandra who always offered love and pragmatic advice.
Massive thanks as well to Justine Solomons who is the beating heart of the publishing community BytetheBook – and who introduced me to my agent; to Antonella Pearce who introduced me to BytetheBook, and to Sérgio Vieira who suggested I write about Portugal. That led to a few trips to the National Archives in Kew, which is a truly magical place.
Joyce Kotze and Karen Pettersen were incredibly patient, reading several drafts of the novel, treating each version as if it were new, and didn’t think I was (too) mad for talking about my characters as if they were real people.
The Quad Writers have sadly now disbanded, but provided great insight and support – thanks especially to Martin Cummings, Kevin Kelly, Barry Walsh, and Rob Ganley. Caroline and Nicholas Boggis-Rolfe also advised on some of the nuances of the British forces’ culture. And throughout the process, my friends kept me sane, providing support (and wine) along the way: Michelle Perrett-Atkins, Alison Hughes, Luma Rushdi, Sharon Gayler, and Monique Mandalia.
Last but certainly not least I would like to thank Edward. While I met Graf first (so no, he’s not a namesake), the Edward in my life has been amazing, fun and incredibly patient. There’s no one I’d rather walk this path with.
Touring the City of Spies
When a Portuguese friend of mine suggested basing my book in
