Meet Renata Faccincani della Torre, the 21-year-old Italian resistance leader who ran a secret Milan safehouse at Stazione Goldoni during WW2.
From forging papers to skiing POWs to safety in Switzerland, she defied the Nazis.
This is her incredible story:
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The centre of clandestine operations for Northern Italy in WW2 was run from headquarters in the centre of Milan at Via Carlo Goldoni 19; the home of the aristocratic family Faccincani della Torre.
At the centre of the clandestine operations was the 21-year-old daughter Renata, stunningly attractive and with a university education.
She was born in April 1921 to a family that had once ruled the area for centuries. Her father was credited with being one of the first people to bring frozen food into Italy and had farms in Bulgaria and Hungary – all lost during the Second World War. He was a Colonel in the Alpine regiment and was sent home from the Russian front because he was dying of cancer.
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His wife Ida was known for being tough, resilient, and an ardent anti-Fascist. She spoke numerous languages, ensuring that her children, Renata and Gianfranco, were fluent in German, French, English, and Spanish.
During the war, Gianfranco was taken away and his whereabouts remained unknown; it was later discovered that he had been killed by the Germans in Piedmont in Northern Italy.
Between 1942 and 1943, Renata was an Italian resistance worker, risking her life to aid the Allies. She became the head of the Milan station, known in clandestine circles as the Stazione Goldoni.
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She was perhaps the person least expected to head operations, and had not appeared to her family to be a person to take risks.
‘She was shy and very academic, destined to become a lawyer had the war not intervened,’ her daughter Vanessa Clewes recalled in conversation. ‘But in fact, she was perfect because her youth and innocence meant the Nazis never suspected her until they arrested her towards the end of the war.’
From Stazione Goldoni, she operated a safehouse for couriers, agents, and anyone who needed immediate shelter from the Nazis.
Years later, after the war, her daughter asked her: Why did she do it? Renata shrugged her shoulders and replied: ‘It was the right thing to do.’
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Vanessa Clewes comments: ‘My mother had an incredibly strong sense of what was right and wrong that came from her strict upbringing. But I still find it astonishing that at the age of only 21 she took on such enormous risks. My family knew that she helped anyone who needed to escape from Italy, including Italian anti-Fascists and Jewish refugees. Just how deeply she was involved as the actual head of the station, I was not aware until the research for this book. It places my mother’s bravery in a whole new light for us.’
Renata was working with the Resistance long before Fritz Molden (an agent she worked with) arrived in Italy. This helped Molden when he needed to link with the partisans operating in northern Italy on the Swiss border as Renata was able to contact them in just two days.
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Molden’s own life was in danger. He was soon on the SS and Abwehr’s wanted list and a hunt was on for his arrest. He arrived unannounced at Via Goldoni one day, operating under the alias of Luigi Brentini, with just five lire in his pocket.
Renata gave him money and forged papers. Molden had contacts too in the German Armaments and War Production department who gave him 50,000 German marks for future operations.
The Stazione Goldoni held a special place in his heart and he wrote about it with affection: ‘The Via Goldoni with the Faccincanis and their friends, Lori Possanner and her little world, Franz Otting and many others in Milan – these were to provide the firm stanchion for the nerve-racking wire I had to walk between the Allied and German camps, between Switzerland and Vienna ... The Via Goldoni spelt home, security, warmth and affection ... I had established bonds of sympathy and esteem which nothing could now sever. The Goldoni station had about it a permanence that would outlast war.’
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With Renata’s help, the partisans smuggled Fritz Molden across the border near Mendrisio.
Renata accompanied him on his escape as they first took a train to Varese, then a branch line towards Porto Ceresio on Lake Lugano. They alighted two stops before Porto Ceresio and walked into a small inn where they waited for their rendezvous – two partisans who would take Molden over the frontier.
Renata and Molden parted, and she took the train back to Milan. Molden narrowly avoided Italian police patrols and succeeded in getting over the barbed wire fence of the border.
From the HQ at Via Carlo Goldoni 19, Renata continued to help British troops who had been captured by Italian Fascists and subsequently escaped.
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Hidden behind huge cupboards and curtains in her mother’s large dressing room was a secret printing press, forged passports, and papers for Allied POWs.
She charmed her way through society – discreet and quiet, whilst still running dangerous missions for Molden.
As an expert skier and ski jumper, she personally guided groups of Allied POWs over the border into Switzerland via remote parts of the mountain ranges.
On her way back from one such escort, she was kidnapped by angry and frightened deserters hiding in the mountains. Her daughter recalls: ‘Held in a remote hut in the Alps, Renata feared being raped and for her life. She kept the men talking about their female relatives: wives, sisters and children to remind them of home. It worked and she survived.’
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Her work for the Allies went further because, being somewhat exotic in her youthfulness and a stunning beautiful blond, she could pass off as an Aryan German.
She was bilingual and could quietly charm her way into the centre of German operations with her fluency in perfect German.
She arrived at German headquarters in Milan one day, pretending to be a German and gained access to photograph documents; intelligence which she passed to the OSS.
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Renata also photographed electricity installations and passed them to the resistance to blow up in night operations. Whilst there was generally a reluctance to discuss details of her wartime work, Renata did share some stories.
Until now, these have remained largely within the family, unpublished for over 70 years, with the exception of an obituary for Renata in The Times and Observer.
Her friend Nam de Beaufort corroborated these stories to the family, for Nam had worked with Renata in some clandestine activities for the Allies.
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If you were captivated by Renata Faccincani della Torre’s inspiring story and are passionate about Second World War history, please consider following me @DrHelenFry, for more educational threads like this one.
Let's explore WW2 history together!
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Olive Myler, one of only three female voluntary interceptors, sent vital signals to 'Box 25' (pictured) during WW2.
She helped MI6 expose Hitler’s Abwehr spy network, from her home in North Devon.
Let's explore:
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MI6 oversaw the Radio Security Service (RSS), initially an MI5 branch at Wormwood Scrubs, which became MI8(c) under MI6’s Section VIII in March 1941.
Relocated to Arkley View, near Barnet, due to London bombings, its address was simply ‘Box 25’.
Working with Bletchley Park, RSS intercepted Axis wireless traffic, including diplomatic and military signals, and monitored foreign embassy communications in British territories.
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Around 1,700 voluntary interceptors (VIs) across Britain, including just three women, listened for German signals during the war.
In a male-dominated radio ham world, these women earned respect.
Each VI monitored specific frequencies, recording tones, Morse code, or hums on log sheets sent to Box 25 for analysis.
Messages were then passed to Bletchley Park for Enigma decoding, with Arkley instructing VIs on which leads to pursue.
During both World Wars, two lesser-known British Secret Service networks conducted covert operations behind German lines.
This thread introduces my forthcoming book which reveals the stories of those who worked tirelessly to hasten the end of German occupation in Belgium:
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I have authored and edited over 25 books on Second World War history, specialising in British Intelligence, women in espionage, and the 10,000 German & Austrian Jewish refugees who fought for Britain.
I am delighted to announce my forthcoming book, scheduled for release in Autumn 2025, which will proudly join my extensive collection of publications.
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My forthcoming book, 'The White Lady', recounts the true story of two pivotal British Secret Service networks operating covertly behind German lines during the First and Second World Wars.
The title draws from a legend claiming that the appearance of a white lady, a ghostly figure, would herald the decline and fall of the Hohenzollern royal dynasty, rulers of Brandenburg-Prussia and later imperial Germany.
The symbolism is clear: through its clandestine efforts, 'The White Lady' spy network sought to accelerate the end of German occupation in Belgium and contribute to the collapse of the royal dynasty.
British Intelligence orchestrated a bold deception by taking the body of a deceased man, assigned him a fabricated identity & planted counterfeit documents on him to mislead the Nazis.
Operation Mincemeat emerged as one of the most remarkable deceptions in wartime history:
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In the lead-up to the 1943 Sicily invasion, the Twenty Committee, in collaboration with Section 17M of Naval Intelligence Division 12 (NID 12), which specialised in naval deception and special intelligence from ISOS, devised a bold covert operation. Ewen Montagu, head of Section 17M and NID’s representative on the Twenty Committee, spearheaded the plan.
The objective was to mislead the Germans about the invasion’s location in Southern Europe by releasing the body of a supposed Royal Marine officer off Spain’s coast. Attached to his wrist was a briefcase containing fabricated invasion plans.
This elaborate fiction, crafted by some of intelligence’s most creative minds, was codenamed Operation Mincemeat, marking it as one of the war’s most daring naval deceptions.
The critical uncertainty remained: would the Germans be deceived?
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Section 17M meticulously planned Operation Mincemeat, leaving nothing to chance.
During the planning phase, the section comprised 14 members, with two-thirds being women. The female secretarial team, affectionately known as ‘the Beavers,’ included 18-year-old Jean Leslie, the youngest member.
The initial task was to secure a corpse and preserve it for the operation. Section 17M consulted Sir Bernard Spilsbury, a renowned British pathologist, and Bentley Purchase, the coroner at St Pancras mortuary.
At St Pancras mortuary, they identified the body of Glyndwr Michael, a 34-year-old unemployed labourer with no fixed address, who had taken his own life with rat poison.
Operation Husky, the codename for the Allied invasion of Sicily in WWII, began in July 1943.
There were tragic mistakes, revealing the raw reality of war.
Step into the chaos of this historical event through the gripping first-hand account of RM Commando Colin Anson:
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At 3:15 a.m., the Allies approached the Sicilian coast, manoeuvring alongside various landing craft and anti-aircraft boats providing covering fire.
In the dark waters, the craft remained unseen by the enemy, encountering no opposition fire.
Colin Anson and his fellow Royal Marine Commandos were poised to lead the first wave of the invasion in that sector, though some troops initially landed on the wrong beach.
Along Sicily’s east and south coasts, multiple Allied landings were underway.
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Colin Anson recalls:
'It was a full-scale invasion. There were also parachute drops of British troops. We got ashore with hardly any casualties. We felt tense, but not fear because we were too busy getting on with the job. We were also very tired because we hadn’t had much sleep before landing. There had been last-minute aerial photographs coming in and we had had to study the area we were going to attack. The adrenaline ran high during the course of the landings.'
During WW2, the Allies employed three key methods to extract secrets from German prisoners-of-war on UK soil.
Let's explore them:
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1. The first method was interrogation to determine what a prisoner would voluntarily reveal.
If they expressed technical knowledge of U-boats, bombs, weapons, or torpedoes, they were asked to draw and label the equipment’s components.
Attached is an example.
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2. The second method involved ‘M Rooms’, where prisoners’ cell conversations were covertly recorded to capture information they withheld during interrogation.
Unaware their cells were bugged, prisoners spoke freely of critical wartime intelligence.
As British Forces pushed past Bayeux, the grim task of burying thousands of fallen Allied soldiers in Normandy commenced.
Harry Rossney painted war cemetery signboards and carved inscriptions on numerous graves.
This was the reality of his duties:
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The harsh realities of war were ever-present for Harry Rossney, a sign-writer by trade, who moved from 93 Company of the Alien Pioneer Corps to 32 Graves Registration Unit in Bayeux.
He oversaw and trained the workforce tasked with sign-writing temporary grave markers, later replaced by white stones from the Imperial War Graves Commission (now the Commonwealth War Graves Commission).
Rossney also hand-painted large signboards for war cemeteries across Normandy, including Bayeux, Ranville, and Hottot.
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He describes that period:
"I was ordered to join 32 Graves Registration Unit (32 GRU) in Bayeux immediately. No argument, no requests, no alternatives. With heavy heart I left my old mates of 93 Company – this oasis of fellow Jewish-German and Austrian refugees who understood and felt the same, had the same outlook, accents and humour.
I felt shattered and very alone. When they told me what I had to do, my heart sank to my boots. Bury the dead. Create a workshop to paint white metal crosses and sign-write every dead soldier's name, number, regiment and religion. We came face-to-face with the price of war each and every day. But someone had to do it. The dead numbered in their thousands."