Josephine Baker stepped down from the train carriage, resplendent in her furs: every inch a superstar. She swept along the platform of Canfranc Estacion, the border crossing into from , giving directions for the unloading and reloading of her luggage. The effect was electrifying.
French and Spanish policemen and customs officers stopped dead. Railway workers gasped in star-struck amazement before dashing to call wives and daughters. They crowded around Josephine, desperate to see, to feel, to touch, to bask in the radiance of that famous smile.
The awe-struck officials barely glanced at the mountain of luggage she'd brought with her: piles of trunks carrying hidden, secret contents that might change the course of the war.
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