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  The women’s immediate family managed to survive, but not all their relatives were so fortunate. Their beloved Tante Louise, sister of their father, Edgar Dreyfus, was driven out of her home and into temporary quarters. Eventually she died in a tiny maid’s room in exile. Another aunt, Tante Alice, was deported to a concentration camp where she, too, died. Coco Chanel played an odd role in the wartime story of the Dreyfuses. She stepped into their life through the front door of Aunt Louise’s deserted apartment.

  Viviane and Christiane Dreyfus during their family’s exile from Paris to Marseille to evade deportation (illustration credit 11.10)

  According to Forrester and Swaythling, the family’s longtime chauffeur, Joseph Thorr, had been obliged to quit their employ once the occupation left them unable to pay his salary. With a heavy heart (and only after first asking M. Dreyfus’s forgiveness and blessing), Thorr accepted a new job: driving Nazi officers around Paris. Still very attached to the Dreyfus family, the chauffeur later visited them in the South of France, bringing stories of his new job—including an anecdote regarding Chanel, which Forrester recounted—obliquely—in her memoir:

  I remember some of the stories Joseph told us. He talked about having driven a number of Nazi officials … including I believe, Goering.… He also confirmed that he had driven “that couturière whom Madame used to visit so often, in the rue Cambon.” And that he had taken her to “rue Dumont-d’Urville to the home of Monsieur’s sister.” To Aunt Louise’s house! Where she no longer lived, having been forced out. “It’s a very small world,” Joseph remarked.… Aunt Louise, driven from her own home, now lived in a maid’s room in the same neighborhood, who knows who put her there. She had become, like her sister Alice, powerless.…“And Madame Louise? Madame Alice? Do you know anything about them?” [we would ask]. Joseph knew nothing.

  In personal conversations, the sisters filled in the details. Viviane Forrester confirmed that the couturière in question was, of course, Coco Chanel, who had dressed their fashionable mother for years. Whenever Madame Dreyfus had needed to go for a dress fitting, Joseph had driven her. He had seen Chanel herself many times.

  But exactly what was the purpose of Chanel’s visit to the deserted apartment? According to Swaythling, Thorr—who was of German extraction and spoke the language fluently—“was working for a German officer who was Chanel’s lover. They drove to my father’s sister’s house, and the officer said, ‘Here’s a pencil and paper, go and make a list and you’ll have it. It’s yours.’ She did it. She came out with a list, and that was it.”

  Chanel had been invited to make out a “shopping list”—to browse through Aunt Louise’s home and choose anything she’d like to keep for herself from among the wealthy woman’s furniture, artwork, and rugs. The German officer, presumably Dincklage, was allowing Coco to participate in the very-common Nazi practice of pillaging Jewish homes. (Hal Vaughan reported that Coco’s attorney René de Chambrun decorated his home with valuable paintings stolen by the Nazis.) According to Joseph Thorr, in the Dreyfus sisters’ recollections, Chanel selected a few pieces of antique furniture and arranged with her lover and Thorr to have the items delivered to her. She did not inquire about the owners of the apartment or why they no longer needed their possessions. She did not question (at least in front of Thorr) the implications of Gestapo agents entering someone’s home on a whim. “I think she was very, very greedy,” said Lady Swaythling.

  Greed played a part in this transaction, certainly, but not greed for material things. An expedition of this kind would have appealed to Coco’s hunger for unlimited access to the world. She could break into a stranger’s home and traipse through it like a conquering Visigoth. Or rather, like the Visigoth’s pampered girlfriend. At nearly sixty, she found herself once more receiving lavish gifts from a lover—the sexual glamour of the escapade no doubt enhancing the rush of implied military and political power. And as always in cases where Chanel sought to cement a bond with a man, the collateral damage was worth it to her.

  In recounting this story, Lady Swaythling expressed her understandable sorrow and bitterness. She lamented the light punishments meted out to many collaborators: “People forgive everything.” Our conversation ended, though, with a curious twist. Lady Swaythling returned to the subject of Chanel fashion. “I would never buy anything of hers,” she declared, then added, “I was given a [Chanel] scarf and a bag, once. I gave the bag away, but I kept the scarf.” With a brief laugh she explained that she would try to hide the double-C logo sometimes, but she did wear the scarf. “I liked it too much.… She had a chic. She made fashion very comfortable.”

  Lady Swaythling’s laugh contained a trace of embarrassment, but it needn’t have. That she kept and wore that scarf proves only that she belongs to her times and culture. Virtually no one, it seems, remains immune to the lure of the Chanel brand, which continues to triumph over any associations, no matter how personal or tragic. Like her mother before her, Lady Swaythling appreciates Chanel style, despite the grim story of Coco, Aunt Louise, and the apartment on rue Dumont-d’Urville, in the exclusive sixteenth arrondissement, just off the Place de l’Etoile.

  As the Dreyfus family story demonstrates, Chanel was deeply ensconced within the Nazi inner circle, and before the war’s end, she would be drawn one last time into active collaboration with the Germans—this time engaging in a complicated, far-fetched attempt to broker a separate peace between England and Germany.

  The mission, known as “Modellhut” (“couture” or “model hat,” in recognition of Chanel’s profession), has been public knowledge since 1985 when Marcel Haedrich broke the story. Since then, new information has brought to light Chanel’s access to high-level Axis officials—and her blithe disregard for the possible consequences of her actions.

  From late 1942 and into the early months of 1943, the tide was turning against Germany. At the Casablanca Conference of January 1943, the Allies mapped out their strategy for winning the war and demanding unconditional surrender from the Germans. Allied forces had made great advances in North Africa, and General de Gaulle’s Free French fighters were growing more powerful. As Germany lost ground, the Nazi hierarchy succumbed increasingly to internal feuds and conspiracies, including plots against Hitler’s life and attempts to circumvent his authority. Operation Modellhut was one such attempt.

  The goal of Modellhut was to bring the war to a close on German terms but behind Hitler’s back, via an arrangement between Heinrich Himmler (Reich minister of the interior, director of the SS, and overseer of all extermination camps) and Winston Churchill. Chanel would serve as the prime intermediary, approaching her old friend Churchill on behalf of the Reich. The impetus behind this scheme remains unclear.

  Some think that the mission originated with Major Walter Schellenberg, Himmler’s chief of intelligence and Dincklage’s direct superior. Others believe it all began with Chanel herself, who might have approached Captain Theodor Momm on her own with the plan. Hal Vaughan sees Modellhut as a joint venture, cooked up by Dincklage and Chanel out of fear for their own futures should Germany lose the war. According to Vaughan, Theodor Momm intended to transfer Dincklage to Istanbul, a dreadful prospect for Chanel, who “would have moved heaven and earth to keep Spatz close to her.” Whatever its origins, we know that Modellhut involved Momm, Schellenberg, Dincklage, and Chanel.

  After several failed attempts, Dincklage secured permission for Chanel’s intervention in Modellhut in the fall of 1943 and was instructed to take Coco to Berlin to meet with Walter Schellenberg. In December 1943, Coco and Spatz went to Berlin and met with Schellenberg, who two years later offered details of their discussions as part of his Nuremberg testimony. According to the trial transcripts, Chanel assured Schellenberg that she could persuade her close friend Churchill to accept peace on Germany’s terms. She proposed traveling to Madrid, where she would first meet with Sir Samuel Hoare, the British ambassador to Spain, whom she intended to persuade to grant her an audience with Churchill. Hoare was a
nother old friend of Coco’s and known for his pro-German sympathies. Churchill was expected to pass through Madrid in December after meeting with Stalin and Roosevelt at the Tehran Conference in Iran.

  Adding more confusion to this already-baroque scheme, Chanel placed a curious condition on her offer: She insisted that her former style muse, Vera Bate Lombardi—whom she had not seen in four years—accompany her on the mission. Vera had taken Italian citizenship and was living in Rome with her husband, Captain Alberto Lombardi, a high-ranking member of the National Fascist Party. This last demand dismayed Theodor Momm—how could he trust an Englishwoman with matters of Germany’s national interest? He had expected Chanel to go with Spatz.

  Chanel had her reasons. She told the Germans that she needed Vera along simply to keep her company. In truth, Vera was being included for a far more important reason: It was she, not Coco, who enjoyed a real friendship with Churchill. Chanel planned to exploit Vera’s high-level connections while taking credit for the mission herself.

  After much intrigue, which included the Nazis’ kidnapping Vera, briefly imprisoning her in a Roman jail, and then forcibly transporting her to Chanel’s Ritz apartment, Coco got her wish. Vera Bate Lombardi would accompany Chanel to Madrid. Although Coco offered Vera a cover story for their trip (they were scouting locations for a new Chanel boutique in Spain, Chanel insisted), Vera, of course, knew better. She recognized that she was now part of a Nazi plan and would need to play along. In late December 1943, Coco and Vera, accompanied by Spatz, left for Spain, traveling by train on Nazi-issued passes.

  They crossed the border at Hendaye where Spatz met with Schellenberg’s representative, Captain Walter Kutschmann. Although he was undercover, posing as a border police commissioner, Kutschmann was, in reality, a chief in Himmler’s spy service, and one of the war’s most brutal criminals. Kutschmann “deliver[ed] a large sum of money to Chanel in Madrid,” according to British agent Hans Sommer in his Nuremberg testimony.

  Despite all the machinations, once Chanel and Vera Bate Lombardi arrived in Spain, Modellhut unraveled quickly. As soon as the women checked into the Madrid Ritz, Chanel sneaked off to the British Embassy to explain her plan to Ambassador Hoare. Churchill, she told him, would surely want to talk to her. She did not mention Vera Bate. Hoare quickly dashed her hopes: Churchill could see no one and was not coming to Madrid. He was ill with pneumonia and was remaining in Tunisia under medical supervision.

  Unbeknownst to Chanel as she sat in Ambassador Hoare’s office, Vera was also in the building—talking to a different British official. No sooner had Chanel left the Ritz than Vera had rushed off to the embassy, as well, seconds behind Coco. Schellenberg’s testimony described what happened: “[Vera] denounced all and sundry [meaning, essentially, Chanel] as a German agent to the British authorities.… In view of this obvious failure, contact was immediately dropped with Chanel and Lombardi.” This was true, but the mission did not end that neatly, especially not in Vera’s case.

  British Embassy officials found it suspicious that Coco and Vera had come separately to them, telling such divergent stories. They decided to keep both women under surveillance. Chanel was a world-famous and highly esteemed designer; could she be a spy? And if Coco was a spy, couldn’t Vera be one, too? The embassy refused Vera’s request for repatriation and assigned a British diplomat, Brian Wallace (whose code name was “Ramon”), to “assist” both women during their stay in Madrid.

  Fearing she’d been betrayed by Vera, Coco dashed off a letter to Churchill attempting to exonerate herself. Written mostly in (surprisingly good) English, the letter tries to explain away her Nazi connections as the regrettable result of the exigencies of war. Coco carefully insists on her tender concern for Vera, and on how hard she had tried to “pull [Vera] out of this situation.”

  Chanel’s letter to Churchill (illustration credit 11.11)

  If Churchill ever saw Chanel’s note, it was long after she wrote it, and no known response to it exists. Suffering from cardiac complications of pneumonia, he was believed near death at this time, and clearly his staff in London had no intention of perturbing the prime minister.

  Despite the suspicion surrounding her, no one stopped Chanel from leaving Spain and returning directly to Paris in early January 1944. But Vera Bate Lombardi was held in Madrid for nearly a year, despite her repeated attempts to prevail upon her Allied connections for help.

  Despite several inquiries into her case by Churchill himself, Vera remained tainted for months by her association with Chanel and Modellhut. Her luck finally changed after a top-secret document from Churchill’s office noted that “Madame Chanel deliberately exaggerated her social importance in order to give the Germans the impression that she (Madame Lombardi) might be useful to them.” This document cleared Vera’s name sufficiently to permit her return to Rome, on January 4, 1945. She died only a few years later, in 1948, having never spoken to Chanel again.

  Lost amid the secret letters, abductions, and betrayals is the presumed facilitator of the entire Modellhut mission: Spatz, who seems to melt away from the story. It is likely that he left Spain quickly as soon as the Gestapo learned of Vera’s betrayal. But Dincklage had never been the ringleader of Modellhut—it had always been Schellenberg’s project.

  Chanel apparently returned one last time to Berlin after the anticlimactic end of Modellhut. She needed to account for the project’s failure to Schellenberg. We don’t know what they said to each other, but implausibly, inevitably, Chanel appears to have seduced Walter Schellenberg at some point in this process. True, she was twenty-seven years his senior, but Coco still enjoyed the attentions of younger men, including, of course, the forty-something Spatz.

  Walter Schellenberg (illustration credit 11.12)

  Schellenberg’s determination and high seriousness would have seemed to Coco a welcome change from Dincklage and his feckless, lightweight charm. And as Dincklage’s direct superior, Schellenberg represented an advance in Chanel’s access to power. She was betraying Spatz with his boss.

  Besides, Chanel and Schellenberg were similar in some ways. They both had grand, even cinematic views of their own lives and power. They were both elegant and highly aware of fashion; they were both keenly conscious of their social status. Schellenberg had once confessed, after all, to joining the SS out of a desire to meet the “right sort” of people and wear the chic black uniform.

  Thrown together by Modellhut, Chanel and Schellenberg would have discovered a shared appreciation for the thrilling rush of high-stakes espionage. Chanel had come out of retirement to play Mata Hari at the age of sixty, and Schellenberg, tall and handsome at thirty-three, not only resembled a spy from a Hollywood movie; he fancied himself one, too. Schellenberg “enjoyed to the full … the spurious glamour of … the secret agent,” Alan Bullock writes in his introduction to Schellenberg’s memoir, The Labyrinth. As evidence, Bullock points to the boastful enthusiasm in Schellenberg’s descriptions of his office at the German Foreign Intelligence Ministry:

  Microphones were everywhere, hidden in the walls, under the desk, even in one of the lamps.… My desk was like a small fortress. Two automatic guns were built into it, which could spray the whole room with bullets. All I had to do in an emergency was to press a button and both guns would fire simultaneously.… Whenever I was on missions abroad I was under standing orders to have an artificial tooth inserted which contained enough poison to kill me within thirty seconds if I were captured. To make doubly sure, I wore a signet ring in which, under a large blue stone, a gold capsule was hidden containing cyanide.

  • • •

  Perhaps he showed off these menacing toys to Coco. She would have enjoyed the poison signet ring.

  Details of their affair are few but convincing. The most reliable witness is Reinhard Spitzy, who knew Schellenberg well. Argentine journalist Uki Goñi graciously shared with me the original transcript of his 1998 interview with Spitzy—who had fled to Argentina to evade capture—that uncovered the relation
ship. Amid exculpatory remarks and disavowal, the outlines of the Schellenberg-Chanel affair emerge.

  Schellenberg was a great man and a gentleman. It was unfair to attack him because he suffered a lot, dying from liver cancer probably brought on by despair after the war. He had a great love story with the great French fashion designer Coco Chanel. It was a fantastic romantic love story of Schellenberg with her. They both wanted to stop the war seeking contact with that idiot Churchill, the most guilty of them all. But Churchill refused.… Then Schellenberg fell ill with liver cancer, and Coco behaved wonderfully. She paid for his operation in Turin, then Schellenberg went to Rome and Coco Chanel placed her private plane at his disposal. Then he died and Coco Chanel paid for the burial. She behaved like a great lady. It was a fantastic and amusing story because Schellenberg and Coco Chanel were two very different people. But there were lots of stories like that in the war, where love and decency overcame all the terrible deeds of the shameless politicians.

  Spitzy is not the only source claiming an affair between Schellenberg and Chanel. In 2011, I uncovered another source of information on the relationship. The Countess Isabella von Fechtmann, née Isabel Suarez Vacani, is descended from a well-connected Spanish family that had close ties to the highest levels of the Nazi Party. Currently preparing a biography of Reinhard Heydrich, chief of security for the SS, Countess Isabella claims to have learned of Schellenberg’s affair with Chanel through several close family members and friends. She stopped just short of confirming definitively her main source, but left little doubt that it was her great-aunt Nini de Montiam, a Spanish actress and one of Franco’s spies: