It’s a story too implausible for fiction, and yet – we’re assured – it’s absolutely true. Behind enemy lines in occupied France, World War II special agent Major Denis Rake sought a cover story; a life and a job that could pass without comment, disguising his covert role supporting local resistance to Nazi rule. And so, drawing on his pre-War experience in the theatre, Rake inconspicuously established himself as… a drag queen.

We meet Rake now in his dressing-room, some time after the War, as he drags up and prepares to perform again. Speaking directly to us as he puts on the wig and the make-up, he shares some of his stories from those desperate years. Actor Neil Summerville is both entertaining and convincing as Rake: slyly camp and artfully flamboyant, but subtly haunted by all that he’s seen.

The narrative’s punctuated by songs, which Summerville performs cabaret-style, at a microphone to one side of the stage. All are based on well-known wartime standards – but each has been given a comic (and usually risqué) twist. My personal favourite was the unsentimental take on A Nightingale Sang In Berkeley Square – not recommended for bird lovers, that one – while a slightly saucier version of Kiss Me Goodnight, Sergeant-Major sets the tone early on. But there is meaning to the lyrics alongside the humour, particularly in a darker number where Rake imagines denouncing the German officers he is performing for.

And there’s another, equally interesting aspect to Rake’s tale: the insight into the workings of the wartime Special Operations Executive, which seems to combine near-unimaginable heroism with utterly banal bureaucracy. When Rake is posted to Paris – in the heart of Nazi-occupied France – he talks almost as though he’s been assigned to a subsidiary of a multinational accountancy firm. But the stakes, of course, are high, and though there’s plenty of humour in the stories there are sobering details too. Every now and then Summerville lets remembered trauma show through, hinting that Rake’s buoyant showmanship might also serve as a mask.

So why isn’t Denis Rake, the real historical figure, better-known? One interesting theory came up in post-show discussion: that because his story ends happily – because it shows a gay man not only triumphing, but living his best life – it may have seemed less acceptable to the establishment than, say, Alan Turing’s. Or perhaps it’s down to something we’re all complicit in: our thirst for a harrowing narrative arc, and a tragic ending.

Whatever the reason, it’s an oversight of history, which this accomplished show – and its writer Paul Stone – aim to correct. It will appeal to those who grew up on wartime stories and, perhaps, offer a new perspective on just how diverse a group of people helped fight the evil of Nazism. It’s an important and relevant show, educational and enjoyable in equal measure.