‘In concentrating on Portugal’s role during World War II, Lochery has produced a readable, occasionally racy, but very worthwhile account of an important but little-known chapter in the greatest conflict of the 20th century.’
Graham Cooke, Canberra Times
Throughout World War II, Lisbon was at the centre of world attention. The only European city in which both the Allies and the Axis powers openly operated, it was also a temporary home to much of Europe’s exiled royalty; over one million refugees seeking passage to America; and a host of spies, secret police, captains of industry, bankers, prominent Jews, writers and artists, escaped POWs, and black marketeers. An operations officer writing in 1944 described the daily scene at Lisbon’s airport as being like the movie Casablanca, times twenty.
The story of Lisbon, therefore, is not a conventional tale of World War II — barely a shot was fired, or a bomb dropped. Instead, it is a gripping tale of intrigue, betrayal, opportunism, and double-dealing, all of which took place in the Cidade da Luz, and along its idyllic Atlantic coastline. Portugal survived the war not only physically intact but also significantly wealthier, and its emergence as a prosperous European Union nation would be financed in part, it turns out, by a cache of Nazi gold.
In this riveting narrative, renowned historian Neill Lochery draws on records recently uncovered from Portuguese secret-police and banking archives, as well as other unpublished documents, to offer a revelatory portrait of the war’s back stage.
‘Impressively researched work … Gives a rich description of the dangerous, chaotic situation in wartime Lisbon.’
Jill Jolliffe, The Australian
‘Neill Lochery brings the city during these years vividly and atmospherically to life, from the red-light districts (where German intelligence bribed prostitutes to gather information from English sailors), to the film noir fogs, the diplomatic intrigues, the Nazi gold the country received for its tungsten trade with Germany (which they never gave back) speeding taxis and the bells of the trams.’
Steven Carroll, The Age