As a part of our coverage of the 81st Anniversary of the D-Day Invasion of the Nazi German ‘Fortress Europa’ – NetNewsLedger is covering the event as if we were there, with a reporter embedded with the Allied Forces.
LONDON – May 27 1944- In a modest studio tucked within the bowels of the BBC’s Broadcasting House in central London, a quiet war is being fought with words — not bullets. Each night, as the sun sets over occupied Europe, radios flicker to life in attics and cellars, in forests and farmhouses across France. There, the voices of freedom speak not just in news and morale, but in cryptic, seemingly nonsensical phrases that signal sabotage, uprising, and liberation.
These are the coded messages of the British Broadcasting Corporation, sent to the French Resistance in the crucial weeks leading up to the Allied invasion of Nazi-occupied Europe.
The Voice in the Night
Beginning in 1940, the BBC’s French Service became a lifeline for millions under occupation. Broadcasting news in French, it offered an alternative to Nazi propaganda and Vichy collaborationism. But as the D-Day operation neared in spring 1944, the broadcasts took on a deadlier, more secretive role.
Short phrases—often poetic, absurd, or nonsensical—were inserted at the end of scheduled programming. To the average listener, they meant nothing. But to Resistance cells operating in the shadows of Normandy, Brittany, and the Loire Valley, they were calls to arms.
“The Long Sobs of the Violins” – The Warning Comes
One of the most famous messages, broadcast in early June 1944, was a line from the French poet Paul Verlaine:
“Les sanglots longs des violons de l’automne blessent mon cœur d’une langueur monotone.”
(“The long sobs of the violins of autumn wound my heart with a monotonous languor.”)
This phrase had been agreed upon months prior between British intelligence and the French Resistance. The first line indicated that the invasion was imminent — within two weeks. A second line would confirm it was happening within 48 hours. That second phrase — “Bercent mon cœur d’une langueur monotone” — was broadcast late on June 5th, 1944.
Upon hearing the message, French fighters across the country sprang into action. Saboteurs derailed trains, blew up bridges, cut telephone wires, and ambushed German convoys.
These coordinated acts delayed German reinforcements and sowed chaos behind enemy lines just as Allied soldiers stormed the beaches of Normandy.
An Invisible Alliance
These radio messages were prepared by the Special Operations Executive (SOE) in coordination with Free French intelligence. The BBC, already trusted by millions, became their willing instrument. Messages were embedded in weather reports, poetry recitations, or “personal messages” to fictitious listeners like “Jean has arrived safely,” or “The rooster sings at dawn.” Each one held deadly meaning.
At great personal risk, Resistance members tuned in using illegal radios, hidden beneath floorboards or disguised in furniture. The Nazis responded with signal jamming and raids, but the broadcasts continued unabated.
The Cost and the Courage
The success of the coded messages relied not only on ingenuity but on bravery. Hundreds of Resistance members paid with their lives for acting on these signals. But their efforts crippled German supply lines and helped ensure the relative success of the Allied landings on June 6.
Today, few who pass by the BBC’s Portland Place headquarters realize that behind its dignified façade, an invisible war was waged — a war fought with poetry, code, and unwavering resolve.
