When Detective Sarah MacGinnis, Mac to her friends, was young, fresh-faced, and still in high school, she loved to talk to her dear old grandmother, Nora, about things she was learning in history class. It turned out young Sarah had also found some... theories going about in certain circles. Nora had to make sure to set her straight. So she’d tell tales of her past, to instill in Sarah just how real these events from history really were.

The First World War, the Great War as it was known then, came up. Nora remembered it. She was there. As was her husband, Casey, who fought on the Western Front, joining the Princess Patricia’s Canadian Light Infantry. She herself chose a different route, of course, for the time.

Nora would never have been one to sit at home. She, like most of the MacGinnis family, could only take action. So it was that she travelled to Britain and, thanks to an influential friend, joined the British Secret Service as a reconnaissance agent.

Sarah checked in with her grandmother upon discovering these strange ‘theories’ about the Great War and Nora had to set the record straight.

“So Grandma, I heard this theory about the war... I don’t think I believe it,” Sarah began.

“What theory?” Nora asked, kindly.

“Oh it’s just... there are people say the war never happened and... I don’t really understand how they think that and-”

“Those people are wrong,” Nora said, her voice stern and turning serious.

“I thought so,” Sarah said.

“I was there. Your grandfather too. He didn’t survive mustard gas at the Second Battle of Ypres to be called a liar...”

“That’s what I thought,” Sarah said.

Nora exhaled slightly. “Would you like to hear a story?”

“A story?”

“About my time in Russia. There were rumours aplenty at the time. I was there to investigate.”

“What kind of rumours?”

Nora pulled out a chair at her kitchen table and patted the seat gently. “Come sit and I’ll tell you about it.”

Sarah sat down and held her grandmother’s gaze. Despite her wizened face, her sparkling eyes held the same pale blue colour as Sarah’s own. Her hair, though almost all grey, still retained some of its former raven dark quality and told of her appearance at a younger age.

The granddaughter waited patiently for her grandmother to find the words. She sipped from her tea and leaned back, letting herself relax. Taking in a short breath, Nora began speaking.

“Finally, the four battalions had come together,” Nora began. “The Canadian Corps. General Currie’s planning extended far beyond even what some people recounted.”

“So... it’s still secret, even today?”

“In many ways, yes. The Germans couldn’t know we were gathering military intelligence on them. But, before Vimy, there were said to be communications back and forth between command around their defensive line on the ridge and somewhere in Russia, where most of the German army had been withdrawn by that time. There were rumours another revolution might be in the works in Russia as well, and their involvement in the war was clearly diminishing. So I was to collect whatever information I could at the time, intercepting what I could about Vimy’s defences, so that my superiors in Britain could relay that to General Currie, and listen in to whatever the Russians might be up to.”

“So... how did you do?”

“Oh, I got what I was looking for. I intercepted many a telegram, detailing where some of the German batteries were located along the ridge, and they were bombed by Canadian artillery at the outset of the battle.”

“And that’s it?”

“Well... not exactly. I stole a German uniform, you see, and used it many times to sneak in and out. I had to hide my long hair, of course, and stuff my jacket to hide my... features,” Nora said. “So, with many German telegrams stolen, I turned my attention to their talk of the Russians and what they might be planning that spring. The battle at Vimy had just begun and, well, I was distracted and praying for your grandfather so I perhaps wasn’t at the top of my game...”

“What happened?”

“There were rumours of a Russian division of just women potentially forming. It... well, things didn’t end well for them, as I heard. But I snuck in among German soldiers in my stolen uniform to spy on this new forming division’s command and find out just how Russia was faring on the Eastern Front.”

“And you got caught?” Sarah asked.

Nora chuckled. “Ah, there’s my little detective...” she said with a smile. “Yes. The Russians assumed I was German. Here’s what went wrong...”

...

In her day, Nora MacGinnis was not exactly the tallest woman. The generations to come after her took after her over 6 foot tall husband, Casey. But she was athletically built, slender, pale, with sharp pale blue eyes and shimmering, jet black hair that tumbled down her shoulders.

She was to spy on a clandestine meeting of women planning to join the Russian army and form their own division. Nora arrived nearly ten minutes late. Her stolen German army fatigues still didn’t fit her right and she hadn’t the time to apply the padding to hide her looks. Nor had she done up her hair, letting it fall loose, and she still wore her usual outfit beneath the uniform; a long-sleeved, black button-up dress, dark stockings, and her black heeled shoes. Her rush to get changed that morning prevented her from fully looking the part. Her matching black hat remained atop her head, forgotten, with its little grey feather peaking out the front.Of course, perhaps that was because she was worried...

Corporal Casey MacGinnis, her husband, was to be among the first into the fray of the newly formed ‘creeping barrage’ along the fortified, German held Vimy Ridge. He and his division were seemingly always first into any battle for the Canadian Corps. Her connection with British command made her privy to this information and she had a terrible night’s sleep, worrying after Casey.

But now was no time to worry, though kind and gentle Casey was never far from her mind. Now she had to focus. And try to blend in despite her... mishmash appearance, throwing on her grey, German coat and rushing off to the meeting spot, hiding in the bushes nearby.

The women were already there, gathered around in a circle at a small, wooden table on the back porch of the house of Maria Bochkarova, a woman already in the military, granted special permission by Czar Nicholas II to serve. She and threefriends had already begun to prepare.

None of them drew attention to themselves, wearing long dresses of the day, heeled shoes, sitting around a table in hushed, gentle voices, yearning for change in their homeland. Nora had managed to pick up enough Russian to understand their conversation and did her best to commit the words to memory.

“There is another coming. I can feel it,” said one of the women, who Nora remembered as Alisa Samsonova, a beautiful woman with bright brown eyes and auburn hair, in a dark orange dress, sitting back with a wide brimmed hat shielding her shining eyes.

“Another? So soon after February?” a blonde woman in green asked. Eva Morozova, as Nora recalled. “You worry too much, Alisa.”

“She is right,” a third, Nora remembered she had dark hair like her own. Yuliya Melnika was her name. Nora’s photographic memory, especially for names, rarely failed her. “The Bolsheviks are getting more and more restless. It’s only a matter of time.”

The last woman scoffed, chuckling slightly, a brunette dressed in blue. “The Bolsheviks? I know Nadezhda. I have my doubts, dear.” This was Lilya Sokolova, who often claimed to be close with figures like Lenin and his wife, among others. That was what Nora recalled about the woman, anyway. Her gathered intelligence told her these things, at any rate.

“And still we sit in middle of this idiotic war... that no one will fight,” Maria said.

“Well... isn’t that we’re meeting about?”  Lilya asked.

“It’ll be one way to end the war on our side. Perhaps,” Alisa said. “Or lead to yet more preventable death...”

“We must do something,” Maria said. “This war has gone on too long already.”

“Last I heard, the Germans were leaving. At least most of them were. Headed off to France to keep fighting the British,” Eva said.

Nora whispered a curse word to herself. Despite being part of British Intelligence, she often lamented how often her home country was simply lumped in with Britain, despite being separated by an entire ocean and completely ruling itself...

And that whispered curse was the beginning of an unfortunate series of events for Nora. The women heard her and wondered aloud what the sound was before going silent. Then a stiff breeze knocked the forgotten hat from Nora’s head and tumbled to the ground, directly toward the four women seated around the table... and as Nora lunged for it to keep it from being seen, she lost her balance and fell between the bushes, out of cover, and into full view of the four there.

They stood up calmly and walked to her, stretched out, grasping at her fallen hat. Maria sighed. “Well... seems the Germans are recruiting their own women to spy for them...”

“I’m not a German,” Nora tried stating, in her slightly broken Russian, as the four women, physically even stronger than they appeared, hauled her to her feet, two grabbing hold of each of her arms, and a third holding her in place. Maria stepped closer.

“No? Well we’ll see... take her inside for me. I’ll have some questions for her later. And be certain she is secure. We have yet to finish our earlier discussion. Meet me back out here. I will attend to our ‘guest’ when we are finished...”

...

Nora realized her mission hadn’t exactly gone to plan. In hindsight, she realized wearing the stolen uniform might have been a mistake but there was no other way to travel in plain sight, with nothing but potential enemies about. May as well try to blend in with one group... but her German uniform had been taken, leaving her clad in only her black dress now.

The spy had been secured tightly to a chair with copious amounts of rope. A long coil wrapped around her arms, pinning them to her sides, and holding her back to the chair. Her wrists were bound behind the chair back, and more rope kept her lap pinned to the seat, as well as wrapping her legs around the thighs and ankles. A thick, white cloth had been stuffed in her mouth as well, with another tied on tight over that working as a gag.

Nora put up her best struggle but the Russians seemed to know what they were doing. She grasped with her fingers, trying to find a knot in the rope binding her wrists but remained unsuccessful. She kicked her legs but the chair merely dragged across the floor less than an inch. She flexed her arm muscles and strained against the ropes there but nothing budged.

“Mmmrrpphh....” Nora grunted, slumping into the chair. She had no idea of how long she had been kept in the cellar of the house, but time seemed to pass very slowly once she realized she couldn’t escape the ropes.

Finally, Maria and her three friends made their way into the cellar. The four women surrounded Nora, lighting a hanging lantern above her head. Maria pulled up a chair in front of her and sat down, staring her in the eyes.

“All right. Now I would like to know what it is, exactly, that a German woman like you is hoping to gain from this... but I would rather not hear your poison words.”

“Mmmpphh...” Nora grumbled.

“We’ve searched your pockets... you seem to have stolen an identity. A British one at that.”

Nora struggled and shook her head. “Nmmm! Mmmph mmm!”

Maria held up some papers and read them aloud. “Nora MacGinnis? I wonder what she would think of some German wandering around using her name, dressing up in a poor disguise...”

Nora sighed. She really hadn’t been thinking straight that morning. The disguise had worked before in intercepting messages coming in from France. But every time Casey was to go to battle... her worries for him had always gotten to her. Though she had always remained composed before. Perhaps this time it was because she had a personal connection and knew his regiment would be jumping into battle with some intelligence that she herself had collected. Her worries about possibly getting something wrong about the German guns, maybe something was slightly off, perhaps even leading to one that would fire on Casey’s own infantry battalion because the preliminary bombings had missed it... she couldn’t even bear the thought.

This was the first and only time she had been so out of sorts. And now these Russian women thought she was actually a German spy! Maybe it wasn’t such a bad disguise after all... perhaps it had worked too well.

“So then ‘Nora’ what are we to do with you?” Maria asked. “We are, after all, simply Russian civilians at the moment. You are trespassing... perhaps we should simply have you thrown in prison?”

Nora shook her head. “Nmm!” There was no telling if she would ever get out again if she was tossed into a Russian prison. Her superiors had no idea that she was even undertaking this particular mission. This was just part of her general directive. She had yet to send the telegram back to London to report in...

“So then Ms. German... I shall ask some questions of you. And you will provide truthful yes and no answers. The gag shall not be removed until I deem what you say as truthful...”

Nora had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach all of a sudden.

“Now... tell the truth. Are you a spy?”

Nora sighed and slowly nodded her head. Maria nodded back. “Very well. Are you a German spy?”

This time, Nora shook her head and grunted out “Nmmph.”

“You wish to lie to me?” Maria asked.

Nora shook her head again. “This German uniform of yours... is it stolen?”

Nora sighed again and nodded her head.

“Are you... Russian then?” Maria asked, confused. She had heard the broken tone of Nora’s Russian earlier. As expected, Nora shook her head.

“Ottoman?” Maria asked.

Again, Nora shook her head.

“Austro-Hungarian?”

Again, she shook her head.

“Well then... French?”

Once more, Nora shook her head.

“Hmm... does that mean you’re actually British?”

Nora nodded and shrugged. Maria furrowed her brow. “So you... work for the British?”

Nora nodded again.

“Your real name is Nora MacGinnis?”

Once more, Nora nodded.

“I see... what are our allies doing sending a spy then? Curious...”

Nora shrugged as far as the ropes would allow. She didn’t know why her superiors wanted her to spy on the Russians but she did as asked. She saw it as her duty in a time of war. Just as her husband’s duty to was to fight in the trenches as directed, so too would she do as directed.

Maria sighed and untied the gag around Nora’s mouth, pulling the stuffed cloth out. “I can speak... small bit of English,” she said, her accent heavy with its Russian influence. “Please speak... back.”

She broke into Russian again, which Nora understood. “Prove your origins, please.”

Nora spoke in plain English, lacking a distinctive accent when she spoke. “I am not from Germany,” she said. “I come from a small town in Canada.”

“Did you just say Canada?” Maria asked in Russian again.

“I did, yes...” Nora answered, in English while nodding.

The four women looked to each other, silently staring for a moment, and then smiling. She spoke again, in Russian.

“There is a rumour the Germans have a name for your people in battle... Sturmtruppen... any truth to that?”

Nora shrugged. There were certain sections of the Allies who seemed to think that... but she had yet to hear a German say it. Even still, it was a nice thought.

“Well, true or not, the Germans do seem to fear you Canadians,” Maria said. “And to think, we were strong enough to capture one!”

“Yes... seems that way...” Nora said, now speaking Russian.

Maria simply laughed. “So then, now that we know you work for British Intelligence, the question is... what now?”

Nora said nothing but squeaked in shock when Maria replaced the gag in and over her mouth.

“I will require further information. As to why the British are spying on us. So we will hold you here. But, seeing as you are an ally, we will release you when the time is right.”

With a heavy sigh, Nora shrugged but nodded in response.

“For now, the ladies will look after you, keep an eye on you. I will return...”

Maria left the cellar then, leaving Nora with the other three, still bound to the chair and gagged. She heaved another sigh as she waited there, unable to escape the tight ropes...

...

“Wait... that’s it?” Sarah asked, leaning toward her grandmother. “They just left you there?”

“For a few hours. They never did get what they were after. Her own contacts in the Russian army had no idea the British were spying on them. And they had no way of finding out why. I didn’t even know why.”

“So they let you go?”

Nora nodded. “They did. Not an altogether unpleasant experience, all told. They were gracious enough hosts... despite tying me to a chair,” she said, laughing.

“Bad day on the job then, I guess,” Sarah said.

“It was. I was so worried something I had done would cause those guns to fire right onto your poor grandfather’s head... but the information was accurate. He made it all the way to the ridge, after all. And survived worse beyond that. Survived Passchendaele after that. Courcelette before that. The Last Hundred Days... he was there for it all.”

Sarah chuckled. “Guess those theories I’ve heard were wrong then. I thought so.”

“Dead wrong,” Nora said, seriously. “There was no faking all that. Not four years of bloody conflict. No one would do that.”

“Yeah, well, the people with these theories do have some pretty bad intentions...” Sarah said.

“Just thought I’d ask. I know it was a stupid question...”

“Not from you it wasn’t,” Nora said, speaking sweetly. “You’re my little detective. You always have to get to the bottom of everything. It’s that MacGinnis blood in you, diving nose first into everything... even if it gets you into trouble. Ask your grandfather. He has some stories about that, too.”

Sarah smiled at her grandmother. “Thanks, Grandma. For the story.”

“You’re always welcome, little one. Ask me for more anytime.”