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4th May 2022
In 1943, British Intelligence pulled off one of the greatest wartime deceptions we’ve ever seen. It involved a dead man, a fictional identity and a briefcase full of forged documents. It fooled Hitler, redirected thousands of German troops, and almost certainly saved countless Allied lives. And it began with an idea from a man who would later become the most famous spy writer in the world.
This is the story of Operation Mincemeat.
It’s early 1943. The Allies had driven German and Italian forces out of North Africa.
Their next plan was an invasion of southern Europe, and they had two targets. The first was to go into Greece to pin the Germans between British and American forces and the Soviets. The second option was Sicily.
The problem was that Sicily was an obvious choice. It was the logical route from which to move forces from North Africa into Europe, and the Germans knew it too. If the Allies were going to land in Sicily with any hope of surprise, they needed Germany to be focused elsewhere.
The seeds of Operation Mincemeat had been sown years earlier. In 1939, Rear Admiral John Godfrey, director of Naval Intelligence, circulated the Trout Memo: a document listing 54 potential schemes for deceiving the enemy, likening the art of deception to the patience required for fly-fishing.
One entry on the list, item number 28, was flagged simply as "A suggestion (not a very nice one)”. It proposed planting misleading documents on a corpse, which the enemy would then discover.
If it sounds like it’s from a work of fiction, that’s because it was. The idea is from a 1937 crime novel, The Milliner's Hat Mystery, by Basil Thompson.
The memo is widely believed to have been written by Godfrey's personal assistant, a young naval officer named Lieutenant Commander Ian Fleming. Yes, that Ian Fleming; the same man who would create James Bond.
The idea was picked up by RAF intelligence officer Flight Lieutenant Charles Cholmondeley, who developed it into a workable plan, and then refined further by Royal Navy Lieutenant Commander Ewen Montagu, a barrister in civilian life. Together, the two men would run Operation Mincemeat from start to finish. Montagu later recalled that his sense of humour had "become somewhat macabre" by this point; it was he who gave the operation its name.
Their plan was to dress a body as a British officer, plant forged documents on it suggesting the Allies planned to invade Greece and Sardinia rather than Sicily, and allow it to wash ashore in Spain, a country that was officially neutral but riddled with German spies and sympathetic to the Axis. They were confident that the documents would find their way to Berlin.
But first, they needed a body.
Glyndwr Michael was a 34-year-old Welshman, the son of a coal miner, who had been living homeless on the streets of London. On 24th January 1943, he was found unconscious in an abandoned warehouse in King's Cross and taken to St Pancras Hospital, where he died two days later. His death certificate recorded the cause as phosphorus poisoning; he had consumed rat poison, either by accident or intent.
He had no known relatives. Nobody came looking for him.
Montagu and Cholmondeley needed a body that was young, male, recently deceased, and unclaimed. Glyndwr Michael, morbidly, was exactly what they were looking for. They transferred his body to the Hackney Mortuary in London. There, they kept it on ice for three months while they carefully constructed his new identity.
Glyndwr Michael became Captain (Acting Major) William Martin of the Royal Marines, a rank senior enough to carry sensitive documents, but not so prominent that anyone in Berlin would recognise the name.
Montagu and Cholmondeley fabricated an entire life for him. His wallet was filled with an overdraft notice from his bank, ticket stubs from theatres and nightclubs, and a letter from his father. They even added love letters from a fictional fiancée named Pam, along with her photograph - actually a picture of Jean Leslie, an MI5 clerk. Tucked into his breast pocket was a receipt for an engagement ring.
The key information was locked inside a briefcase chained to his wrist. Amongst other correspondence was a letter between two senior British generals, Lieutenant General Sir Archibald Nye, Vice Chief of the Imperial General Staff, to General Sir Harold Alexander in North Africa, suggesting that Greece and Sardinia were the real targets, and Sicily was merely a ruse.
They considered every detail to withstand scrutiny. The letters included minor inaccuracies and personal observations, and were made to appear as though he’d carried them for some time.
They also placed a single black eyelash inside the sealed envelope. If they ever got the document back and the eyelash was missing or had been disturbed, they would know the envelope had been opened.
On 19th April 1943, HMS Seraph, a British submarine commanded by Lieutenant Bill Jewell, departed Holy Loch in Scotland with Glyndwr Michael's body stored in a specially designed steel canister to slow decomposition. After sailing to the coast of southern Spain, the submarine surfaced during the early hours of 30 April.
After a brief memorial service, the crew opened the canister a mile off the coast of Huelva in southern Spain and released the body of Major William Martin into the sea. They also released a life raft to foster the illusion that he had died following an aircraft crash.
Huelva had been chosen carefully. The local currents were strong enough to carry a body to shore; the town had a German consulate and an Abwehr intelligence officer operating under diplomatic cover; and the local pro-German Spanish military could (hopefully) be relied upon to pass information to the Germans.
A Spanish fisherman discovered the body that morning.
The Spanish investigated the contents and shared copies with the Abwehr before returning the briefcase to the British. There was no eyelash in the envelope.
Intercepted German communications confirmed that the deception had worked.
Within weeks, Adolf Hitler ordered the reinforcement of Greece and Sardinia. Panzer divisions were diverted. Field Marshal Rommel was dispatched to Greece. Torpedo boats were moved from Sicily to the Greek coast.
On 10 July 1943, less than three months after Operation Mincemeat, Allied forces launched Operation Husky, the invasion of Sicily.
When they landed, they met significantly weakened resistance. The island fell in 38 days - far faster than military planners had anticipated. Churchill received the news that the deception had worked in a simple message: "Mincemeat swallowed rod, line and sinker."
Many historians believe it saved thousands of Allied lives.
The successful invasion of Sicily eventually led to the fall of Benito Mussolini's Fascist government and paved the way for the Allied campaign in mainland Italy.
Glyndwr Michael was buried with full military honours in Huelva's Roman Catholic cemetery under the name Major William Martin. He lay there, known only by his false identity, for over fifty years. It was not until 1996 that amateur historian Roger Morgan uncovered declassified documents revealing his true name, and in 1997 the Commonwealth War Graves Commission added a single line to his gravestone: "Glyndwr Michael served as Major William Martin RM."
In 1950, former cabinet minister Duff Cooper, who had been briefed on the operation, published Operation Heartbreak, a novel inspired by Operation Mincemeat.
In 1953, Montagu wrote and published The Man Who Never Was, a non-fiction account of Operation Mincemeat, though many details remained classified and were omitted. In 1956, it was made into a film of the same name.
Decades later, journalist and author Ben Macintyre revisited the full story in his 2010 book Operation Mincemeat, drawing on newly declassified material to tell it in far greater detail than had been possible. That book became the basis for the 2022 film of the same name, with Colin Firth playing Ewen Montagu and Matthew Macfadyen as Charles Cholmondeley.
The story has also found an unlikely home on the stage. Created by the theatre company SpitLip, the musical won the Laurence Olivier Award for Best New Musical.
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