© copyright Marcel Bollag, 2000, 2009
June 17, Saturday: Saturday was always a bad day for us. We got up at the regular time. During breakfast already a German pushed his way into the house and began looking for something. We got rid of him. This morning we spent in the kitchen helping prepare potatoes, salad, and vegetables. It was shortly after dinner when a woman came running into the house, almost out of breath, and told us that Germans were looking in all the houses for escaped paratroopers. She had hardly finished her sentence when the two of us took off through the back door and went into the fields. We had a certain spot arranged and Albert told me he would come for us when it was safe again.
All afternoon we were hidden in the bushes. It was really hot. I figured the Germans were bound to get us. We were well-camouflaged but could not move. Finally at 9 p.m. Albert came around and told us to come back to the house. The Germans had come, asked for troopers, looked in all rooms, and then collected every linen sheet in the house for making Red Cross flags. We decided right then that we should have identification cards and residence papers just in case we got stopped by the Nazis. Next morning at 10 a.m. this was already done.
This night I could hardly sleep. For a while I thought the Heinies had forgotten about us, and suddenly they were looking again.
June 18, Sunday: Excellent breakfast. At 10 a.m. Julien came with a bicycle and brought the identification cards. Also two photos which resembled us rather well so we pasted them in and then went upstairs to make our fingerprints. From this day on my name was Jules, and even the little boy Claude soon caught on to it and called me by that name. I felt a lot safer now and started going out. Julien also brought us the latest news. Sunday was a good day for the Nazis to move. They rolled by every minute [Page 12 of the original manuscript was missing so what follows is from theoriginal page 13 and is left undated].
I told him about our adventure with this Heinie and he laughed about it. Shortly after dinner Julien came in and said "Hello." He had come many times before. He took me aside and went upstairs with me. He carried his bundle like every Frenchman did. He opened it and told me that his radio did not work on the French station anymore and I should listen to the English. He was excited for he had missed the news. So we set up the radio, aerial, etc., and then I started listening. It was very weak, a self-made radio or crystal set, but I could hear American music. It was the program from London for the American forces. My face shined like a mirror. I must have been the happiest man right then just to hear American music – music from home. I called John over from the trench and had him listen for a while. No news. I sat the whole afternoon listening to the program, watching through the window to see that no German was looking our way. Julien had to take the radio back with him but promised to bring it back later in the week.
We had supper that night and our usual session afterwards. Gabriel, a girl from the next farm, came over to say "hello;" in fact, she stayed all night. We had a cushion fight at about midnight and all I remember is that I woke up in the morning outside the trench shivering all over my body. This was the first time this cider really got me a little.
June 20, Tuesday: I felt kind of tired from the last night and slept after breakfast again. I went down to the workshop, watched the two fellows making wheels for those horse-drawn carts, and then took Simone’s bicycle and went into the village. I went to see the baker, grocer, butcher, etc. Every place I dropped in I had to drink wine, cider, and eat. It was a very pleasant afternoon. I had real friends all over, and the Germans on the road didn’t bother me much. I came home with a sack full of food, gave it to Albert’s wife, and even brought some candies and chocolates for the kids. They had not seen it for four years and, of course, were crazy about it. They never wanted us to leave for now they had plenty of good stuff to eat. John had slept most of the day away and felt kind of funny when we had to go to bed again at 10 p.m. I told him what I had done and then we both fell asleep.
June 21, Wednesday: The bread situation in the village had gotten worse. Rumors went around that it would last only two more days. Albert was a handy man so he decided to bake some himself. He had friends everywhere, and having us in his house he could get flour, eggs and milk. So I went with him to a farm 1 kilometer down the road. A rich widow woman (her name was Mary) owned this place. We got there and I saw three Germans washing in front of the house. A whole company had parked here for the past three days already. However, it did not bother me much. I went into the house, put down my hayfork, and met a German officer. He was friendly and said "hello." Albert and I then got hold of about six bundles of wood and carried them down to the bakery. We then started making bread. It was quite hard work and took a long while. We had our dinner with Mary, a most wonderful meal with wine and champagne. She would give me anything she had in the house. It was also Mary who had killed a calf five days previously especially for us so we had plenty to eat. These French women can really cook. After dinner we went to build the fire in the stove and put the bread in. While it was in the oven we drank many bottles of cider and talked about the war and different things.
The bread was a real success. We carried home about 15 big loaves. But, of course, I must say the French people really eat bread at any time of the day. This bread was almost like cake. We had used plenty of butter, milk and mashed potatoes so it tasted wonderful.
John had been worried all day about my disappearance and since he could not make the woman understand him she had come down to the house especially and I wrote a note to tell him where I was.
June 22, Thursday: This morning a new visitor came to see us. Charlie, an American P-47 pilot who had crash-landed nearby some days ago, found out about our being here and came to say "hello." He was a swell fellow. He lived about four kilometers away at a French school with some very lovely people. We talked about our experiences – he had had some, too – and then he offered to give me his pistol in case I intended to make it back through the lines. He also gave me 1,000 francs which I gave to this family. They refused first but I made them take it. After all, they were poor people. Charlie stayed for lunch. We promised to visit him soon and kept in touch with him through Julien, who made the rounds almost every day.
In the afternoon we worked in the garden and dug some holes because these people had decided to hide their dishes and a few other odd things incase they had to evacuate. The Germans came into the house every day and stole anything they liked. One day they took off with the last bit of coal this blacksmith had hidden. Across the road they had stolen two horses and killed two cows. It was really bad. People were excited but couldn’t do very much. I’ll never forget one German who came into the house with his pistol pointing at the woman and asking for eggs. They surely did not fool around.
By now the Americans were still near La Haye du Puits but did not move much. The Germans made everybody move out of their houses before they abandoned the village. These people moved south, destination unknown. Some of them just had a chicken under the arm or the richer ones a horse with a wagon behind it.
June 23, Friday: In the morning we went to see our two friends nearby and discussed the situation of what we were going to do if we had to evacuate. As we strolled through the fields we saw a lot of 20 mm AA ammunition boxes. I figured we could dump them out. We went back to the house at noon, told Albert about it, and he agreed to go at night and dump all this ammunition into a ditch. We had quite some fun doing it and thought every piece would be one shot less.
This Friday afternoon one of our fighter planes was shot down very near our house. The pilot bailed out but, unfortunately, we got there too late. The Heinies had spotted him and killed him right on the spot. Later we went back and buried him, and took his address and dog tags.
This was our second week here and I was beginning to feel uncomfortable. Something had to happen. And it did very soon. We got a taste of everything.
June 24, Saturday: Saturday had been a black day for us since we had been captured. I was afraid of this day all the time. Albert had left in the morning to get some news at a friend’s home and never came back for dinner. He had said also that he was going to help a woman nearby dig a trench. Our fighter bombers came too close for comfort these days and everybody decided to sleep in trenches.
We prepared vegetables again and I even tried to make some Galettes. In the afternoon the planes were overhead all the time and we spent most of the time in the trench.
Later on we had supper and then Albert came in. It was already dark and everybody was ready to go to bed. Albert told me and John to stay up for a little while and let the other people go in the trench. Then he took me aside and told me I had to leave tomorrow morning early without delay. He said one of his friends had warned him that a certain farmer, a collaborator nearby, had told somebody that he was going to tell the Germans of our being here. We had to get away. I just looked at him and almost started crying. Where could we go? Albert told me immediately that he had made all the necessary arrangements for us and there was nothing to worry about. He, of course, wanted very much to keep us but not only would we get caught but his whole family would probably be killed. I told John about it and he understood very well. I trusted Albert so much that I knew he had arranged everything for the best. Alphonse, the farmer who usually brought the butter, was going to take us to his home. We slept in the house that night, the three of us. Albert’s wife came later in the evening. She had tears in her eyes. She did not want to let us go. We went to sleep.
June 25, Sunday: During this night a whole company of Germans moved in behind the house. At 3 in the morning some Nazi opened the door. He did not expect anybody to to be in the house. He asked whether he could use the fireplace to make soup. At 4 a.m. we got up. Albert’s wife had come from the trench at 3:30 in the morning already to make coffee and breakfast. Nobody else knew about our leaving except her, and the people around there were to be told that we left ourselves and tried to get back to our lines. So we had breakfast. She put a loaf of bread into a sack, a clean shirt for both of us, and some beef. I then took my hayfork and said goodbye to her. It was hard saying goodbye, but I promised her I would come and see her after the Americans had freed us.
We walked across the hedgerows. The orchard was full of Germans. It was time to leave anyway. Exactly at 5 a.m. we met Alphonse and a young friend of his. Alphonse had a pair of shoes for me for I had trouble walking in their wooden shoes. We then said goodbye to Albert and he promised us he would come over and see us at least three times a week.
We marched with Alphonse through fields, paths and woods, saw German dugouts and positions, and got to his home about 6 a.m. It must have been about 4 kilometers away from Albert’s house. It was a small farm, very nicely situated away from the village. We had coffee right then and waited around. Soon afterwards his wife together with three kids came in. She knew about us and welcomed us. "Be right at home here, boys," she said. Her house had been taken over by the Germans and she simply had to leave. We had a good breakfast and the kids were lovely. We were part of the family immediately and played with them. Alphonse then told me he was going to handle everything differently. Alphonse said, "Nobody is going to know about your being here. I am a little more careful but I believe it is better. Nobody is coming to see you except Albert, and maybe you will not be so comfortable, but I don’t trust some of these Frenchmen. The Germans are not so bad, but a lot of these Frenchmen are collaborators."
His wife showed us to our new home. It was the upstairs of an old barn. There was straw up there and we took two blankets up. What a miserable place to stay. We had a deck of cards with us. The afternoon we spent in the house, told our story, and drank plenty of cider. These children were lovely and I played with them all afternoon. Soon we were the best of friends.
At about 9 p.m. it was getting dark already. Alphonse took us over to the barn and said good night to us. I felt a lot safer here, but not for too long. In the morning I was to experience a different feeling.
June 26, Monday: John and I slept late. Alphonse came about 9 a.m. and brought us breakfast. It consisted of a bottle of hot milk, and plenty of bread and butter. Alphonse said he would come back later on. Those were long hours. We played some cards.
Suddenly the AA guns started shooting. And boy, were they near us. The building was shaking. Then the planes came down, all P-47s (I could tell by the noise) and strafed and bombed. I thought the building was going to collapse, but we could not leave. This bombing and strafing went on for days. We got kind of used to it. Alphonse came at 1 p.m. and we went over to the house. It was like getting out of prison. After all, what would the Germans have said if they had found us up there? We had a fine dinner but, of course, these people did not have as much as Albert because nobody brought food.
The afternoon was spent in the house playing with the kids. Every once in a while we had to duck from being strafed and sweating out the bombs. It was a hot spot with all the German guns around us. They were no farther away than 100 yards.
This afternoon a German corporal came to the house. The kids started crying as soon as they spotted him. He was a gunner and wanted some milk. I asked him for cigarettes, which he gave me, and Alphonse gave him milk. He gave the children 50 francs so they stopped crying. He spent at least two hours with us. Letters and pictures from home were floating around, and he was surely disgusted with the war.
I asked him how the situation was and he told me really fancy stories. "London is afire from these flying bombs, the Americans are being pushed back into the sea, and in Russia everything goes well," he explained to me. He was proud of the Germans, but for some reason wanted to be a civilian. He tapped me on the shoulder and said, "You are lucky you are a civilian. Me, a soldier – boom, boom, get shot." So I explained to him that we got bombed day and night, but he still wanted to be in my shoes. If this guy had only known who I was he probably would not have talked anymore. He left that night, promised to bring some candies for the kids next time, and I drank a glass of cider with him before he took off.
June 27, Tuesday: I could not sleep much this night. The planes came over constantly, dive-bombed and strafed. At 7 in the morning the .50-calibers got so close to the roof that I decided to put my shoes on. Finally at 9 a.m. Alphonse brought the breakfast. We had a big bottle of hot chocolate which tasted wonderful. Again we stayed in until noon. A long morning. Only later on did I find out that we missed a meal by staying in the barn. These people eat at 10 in the morning too. We were glad every time they called us for dinner for this was one way of spending the time. Today we had wonderful chicken with the most delicious gravy. They killed it because the Germans would have taken it so they figured it best to have something themselves.
This afternoon many Germans passed by. Most of them tried to get milk and butter. I spoke with one of them for a long time. He told me the Americans were pushed back to the sea. Of course, I had my own thoughts but I was very disappointed not to hear any artillery fire.
Albert came to see us this afternoon, brought some cigarettes and cakes for us, and a lot of rumors. We spent the afternoon talking and drinking cider. All this probably sounds rather good and exciting, but my nerves slowly began to give way. It had been a continuous strain – no hope right now, and always the feeling of getting caught in civilian clothes. We could not enjoy life, although the people tried everything to make us happy and to help us to try to forget. We went to bed that night feeling rather blue and making plans for taking off.
June 28, Wednesday: At 4 in the morning the artillery started to give way. For every German shot you could hear 10 American shots coming back. It was still far off but at least I could hear the sound and was sure the attack had started. This artillery continued until noon. I called Alphonse over and told him we would have to dig a trench for the kids and his wife. We started working in the afternoon, found a wonderful place, and built a pretty good-sized trench.
There was one neighbor by the name of Paul, a 40-year-old man, quite wealthy (owned a big house and plenty of land). He knew us from before and also watched out for us. He was a real funny character. He hated women (always disappeared if a girl showed up) and lived mostly on cider. We used to watch him from the barn. One evening he walked over from the house to the barrel ten times, which means he drank ten bottles of cider. He was a real good fellow; mad at the Germans because they had stolen two of his horses and without his horses he could not get work on the farm. He came over to our house very seldom. Too many women in the house.
Alphonse was a real Frenchman – always in a good mood, and anytime the Germans came in the house he saw to it that they would not get too fresh. Late in the afternoon we had another big bombing, which found us on the floor of the house. They almost strafed the house. Probably had seen a German enter the door. The poor kids cried and the woman did not know what to do. It was pitiful. I was scared myself. I know what those .50-caliber bullets can do to you.
Later on we went to bed or, better, hit the straw – beds I had not seen for a long time. The artillery had stopped and everything was peaceful again. How much longer was all this going to last? I never gave up hope, but my morale sank every day.
June 29, Thursday: Albert came to visit us again, and he had news, too. The Americans were near St. Lo and near La Haye du Puits. I think he just wanted to build up my morale. He also had a bottle of calvados with him which we drank together in the barn. He told me another wild story of a new landing in St. Malo which, of course, never was confirmed and, furthermore, told me of parachutes being dropped. I did not believe it.
At 10 a.m. we had our second breakfast. Then I played with the children – made planes out of paper and built houses with a deck of cards. They were really lovely kids. Two boys by the name of Andre and Bernard, and a little girl three years old, Jeanvieve.
One German came around in the afternoon and told Alphonse that he had to give up one of his cows. The same afternoon we killed a calf which belonged to this old woman. She refused to give it to the Germans, and for the next 10 days we really had plenty of meat to eat. We had the most wonderful soups in that place.
Toward evening a whole company of German infantrymen moved in near the house. It didn’t take too long before they were in the house. I told John to go into the trench and wait there until the "all clear" signal was sounded. That night I slept in the trench myself for I did not want to leave John alone. After all, what would happen if a German passed by John could not answer any questions? We had enough woolen blankets to keep us warm.
I heard many Germans singing and shouting during the night. They must have been in good spirits. Of course, they had no idea what was actually happening at the front lines. They had been informed that the Germans were winning and, therefore, felt good. I wonder what those guys think now. Anyway, we had a restless night and were glad to return to the house in the morning.
June 30, Friday: The Germans were ready to move out toward the front for which I was not sorry. I was sweating out John every minute. What could he do when a German asked him something? I stuck to him all the time and answered the Germans whenever they spoke to us. So far we had made out good. I bummed cigarettes from them regularly and drank cider with them every day.
This morning the woman’s sister and her husband came to see Alphonse. He did not want to tell them who we were so he said, "These two men are from Organization Todt." We were supposed to pass by here only and were on our way to Paris. All this went OK, but a week later the same people came back and we were still hanging around the house. So I told the man I had come back this way to say hello. Maybe he believed it. So far nobody knew of our being here and we felt quite safe. If only the guns would have started blasting away again, I could have felt better. Nothing of the kind. In fact, I thought the war had stopped. John almost went crazy. He was worse off. He could not understand the French and did not know what the Germans were saying.
We decided to go out for a little while today. We took a bicycle with us just in case we had to get away in a hurry. Down the road we went, but hardly had we started out when those fighter planes came patrolling the road and we had to jump into a ditch. We did find a lot of German 20 millimeter ammunition in the fields and disposed of as much of it as we could. What a pleasure it was for me to see four big German trucks blown up on the side of the road. Our fighter planes were really doing a wonderful job. They strafed everything on the road, including civilians.
Today we came back to the house in good spirits. It was fun going out again and feeling free. I told Alphonse about our afternoon and he was well pleased.
We had been around for almost three weeks without being caught. Now the big occasion was to get back. But the information I received was negative. I heard of people trying to get through the German lines and all of them had been caught. So I decided to wait another week. Alphonse did not want to let us go anyway, and said he wanted to be with us when the Americans drove in.
The sun was out today and Alphonse’s wife washed our shirts and underwear. I spent the evening at Paul’s house drinking cider and cooking some beef.
July 1, Saturday: I was very much afraid of this day. So far it had been the darkest day of the week and I was always glad when it had passed. What was going to happen today? The morning passed quietly. We had some bombing around the house and ran over to the trench, but otherwise it was the regular routine.
Then around noon a new German SS tank outfit moved in. It was the famous Division "Totenkopf," and they were really rough. A big German sergeant came into the house, both hands in his pocket, looked around, but did not like theplace. It was probably too small for him. I was really afraid of these fellows for I had heard a lot about them – knew exactly that they were fresh troops and young Nazis.
It was about 4 in the afternoon when Paul came running toward the house almost out of breath and shouting there was a German behind him looking for us. At first I hardly knew what to do. Was there time enough to run off? Then, of course, if the German saw us it would look rather funny. Well, I decided to beat it and we ducked low and ran like hell!
Our first hideout was the trench. We crawled under the blankets and posed as though we were sleeping. A couple of Heinies walked by but did not spot us. We were down there for over four hours. I did not dare to move. Finally, after 8 o’clock at night Alphonse came looking for us. They had been looking for us all right, but also came to get some chickens. Alphonse gave them two just to get rid of them so we would not get caught. This night we went back to the barn but could not sleep. I kept my shoes on and was ready to get out at any time. There was also a little shooting around us but I guess those young Germans were just trigger happy. How they changed in the morning.
July 2, Sunday: We went over to the house early. It was better to be with the family than alone in the barn. One 20-year-old German was in Paul’s house when three P-47 planes came over and drew the antiaircraft fire. I have never seen a fellow more excited than this SS man. He took a white handkerchief to wave at the pilot at which time the Frenchman hit him on the head. The Nazi finally understood how foolish he had been. Then the plane came down on the house. I was waiting for the bomb to drop. Nothing happened. This Heinie almost went crazy. By all means he wanted to leave the house. He almost cried when he found the door locked and took a wooden stick and started banging the door. They certainly did not like our planes.
In the afternoon they moved out, much to my relief. They had quite a few tanks and trucks with them. Around 5 o’clock our planes came in numbers, and boy, did this SS troop get a beating. Reports next day were that 80 out of 120 trucks had gotten blown up on the road. I saw the smoke from our house. It looked like a woods was burning a few kilometers away. I guess they got their lesson.
July 3, Monday: I woke up this morning under enormous noise from our artillery. Had the push finally begun? John did not believe in it anymore. In fact, he was rather rude to me. His nerves just let him down. I told him to take it easy; everything was going to be OK. It was no use getting excited now. We had stuck together such a long time in order to make it back we just had to hold out. After all, we had enough to eat, were with pleasant people, and had nothing to complain about.
Albert came over this morning and told us that many German ambulances had come back to the village from the front with hundreds of wounded, among them some Americans. He had some wounded civilians in his house and was taking care of them. He also told me that Perier had been evacuated by the Germans and that the refugees came in all day long. I did not like this at all for I figured that our little village would be evacuated too. The Germans never allowed any civilians to remain behind because they knew too much. Furthermore, the Germans began collecting young men and taking them inside Germany for war work. I had to get out of this, but there was little I could do. Albert gave us another address we could go to just in case we had to leave in a hurry. He understood the need to build up our morale. "It won’t last long now," he said when he left us. But he was wrong.
July 4, 5 and 6, Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday: These days went by like routine days. Many German troops were passing by so I knew a battle was going on up front, but the guns were quiet except for the flak which never seemed to stop. One day we made bread at Paul’s bakery. John and I had decided to sleep in the bakery from now on since the walls were rather thick and only a direct hit could kill us. It was also a place where hardly any Germans would look in. In case they did I was just going to say that we were on our way south and the farmer offered to let us sleep there. Nothing happened. One bomb dropped a few yards away – everything was shaking but we were used to that by now.
"Think nothing of it," I said to John.
"Hell no," he said, both of us shaking as if it were December. It was a monotonous week.
July 7, Friday: At 10 in the morning a German from the AA gun came to the house. "Madame," he said, "I have to cook in your house. My kitchen got blown up." He was a tall, big 39-year-old fellow. He made himself at home immediately. He had brought with him two big buckets full of meat, salt, and then went to the garden to pull out some potatoes, onions and carrots. Of course, he did not ask permission. He sat down on the bench. I sent John to the trench. I asked the German why he did not cook in his own kitchen and he then told me the truck had left to get supplies but never got back. I must have smiled. Wasn’t that too bad?
This man was cooking for 50 soldiers. I got some wood for him and made the fire. He took off his pistol and settled for the day. He asked where I came from, to which I replied that I was a refugee in Cherbourg. "Ah," he said, "well, what did you do in Cherbourg?"
"I was a farmer," I answered.
"Your hands don’t look like a farmer’s."
I was worried about this.
"Well," I said, "I used to work in an office but shortly before the invasion I had helped on a farm." That was all right then. This Nazi cooked his meat very well. He used only butter, vinegar, onions, carrots and some potatoes. We had our dinner and, in the meantime, drank some cider with him. I had to drink my glass first; he did not trust us.
Then in the afternoon he got friendlier and showed us pictures from home. He was a farmer too, had three children, and quite a bit of land. He also told us about the French girls and we had an amusing afternoon. Finally at 5 p.m. he left the house and told us he would be back the next morning. He had burned four bundles of wood. One thing he did leave for us was his gravy and it was actually delicious – one of the best gravies I have ever eaten.
Then there was Saturday coming up again. I was sweating. I knew something was going wrong and was prepared for the worst.
July 8, Saturday: John stayed in the trench all day. I brought the meals to him there and told him to stay. This morning the German fellow came back to cook. He was in a good mood, made lots of jokes, and unpacked his food. There was another fellow doing the same thing at Paul’s house. I played with the children this morning. Alphonse had to go to the village to buy a few things. Suddenly the German asked me, "Can you fly a plane?"
I was stunned.
"Hell, I don’t like planes; never been in one," I said. "I would rather drive motor cars."
I was very suspicious and decided in a split second to take off. I told Alphonse’s wife about it and left word for her where I was going.
"Come, John, let’s get the hell out of here before it’s too late."
"What in the world has happened?" John said.
"No time to explain," I whispered. "I’ll tell you all about it."
He was rather mad. I had awakened him and he was in rather a bad mood. Anyhow, we left on the spot. Our destination was Julien’s house about six kilometers away. I took my famous hayfork on my shoulder and we strolled down the road. I was sorry to leave these people so suddenly but it had to be done.
We arrived there sometime in the afternoon, told Julien’s sister what had happened, and we were very welcomed. They were poor people. Julien was seldom home. He was busy with the underground movement. His mother, an old woman, was there, along with his sister and a young brother by the name of Camille. He surely made us feel at home. He was about 21 years old, had formerly been in the French Navy, and was full of gaiety. He had a crystal radio set in his workshop and the first thing we did was listen to the news. I was just happy hearing an American voice again.
"It can’t be too long now that they will come this way," he said.
"I hope so, too," was my answer.
Camille showed me around and also told me that Charlie, the pilot, lived about one kilometer from here and promised me we would go see him the next day.
We had dinner there. They hardly had enough for themselves but split everything with us. Then we again listened to the radio until dark. This night we slept in the house; in fact, in the same room with Camille’s mother. There was a soft bed and fresh linens – all like a dream. We surely did not belong in there – after all, we were dirty, and had been sleeping in holes and bushes for weeks.
July 9, Sunday: The old woman was still asleep when we got up and went downstairs. Juliette, the daughter, was up making breakfast. She had two babies – a lovely girl five years old and a boy about two and a half years of age. We had breakfast and then listened to the news. Not much had happened.
Camille then took us over to see the pilot. Again the usual hayfork on my left shoulder. We went across fields and suddenly were attacked by three American fighters. This time I had heard them coming and all three of us had dispersed and found shelter. I knew what it meant to be spotted.
We arrived at the place. It was a country school; a beautiful house. We entered, went all the way upstairs under the roof, and met Charlie. He was more than glad to see us. The two troopers also stayed at this house. We talked everything over and came to the decision to stay here until the Americans arrived. I promised to come back again to see them later.
The artillery shells were now falling not too many miles away. On our way back Camille agreed that we should dig a real good trench in which we could stay when the battles approached. Immediately in the afternoon we started digging. This was going to be a masterpiece. We worked until late at night. It was dark when we finally ate our soup. We were going to finish it in the morning in a hurry for no German must see it.
July 10, Monday: Early in the morning we started finishing our hideout. The trench was deep. We filled the top and then piled the "vahons" or wooden bundles on top. All it looked like was a pile of wood. The hole to get into it was on the other side, just big enough to creep through on your belly. Inside it was quite good. We had plenty of straw, a lamp, plenty of woolen blankets and pillows, and a shovel. We also installed a radio. Now we had to get food and store it up.
This morning when we were carrying bundles from the house to the trench I suddenly saw two girls coming down the road. They stopped in front of our house and afterwards a finely dressed gentleman followed on a bike. I spoke to them and asked them where they were going. They told me they were from the Red Cross. They were the best looking girls I had seen since I had left the States. What a change from those English women, or better, "Limis" as we called them. They had charm and were really pleasant. Camille told me who they were, and when they found out we were Americans they had a smile all over their face. One of them went to see the pilot Charlie; the other one had just come along. I told them if they had nothing else to do they should come and visit us once in a while. Her father, Mr. B., told me that if I got into trouble at any time and had to take off I could always come to his home which was about 20 kilometers away. We saw them in the afternoon on their way back and said "goodbye."
Now we could rest. Our work was done and we were proud of it. The trench was well hidden and there was not much chance of being noticed. The rest of the day we spent listening to the radio – trying to find out how the war was progressing. We slept in the trench this night – quite comfortable.
July 11, Tuesday: Camille told me, "By the 14th of July we shall be free." It was their National Day in France and he figured the Americans would arrive. Today we took a walk to a farm nearby to see some friends of Camille. In the morning I met a refugee from St. Lo and found out he was a most famous bicycle racer whose name I had heard many times in the "Tour de France." He was happy to see us. We were the first Americans for these people and, of course, this gave them hope.
We went across the fields to this big farm. What a place it was! I will never forget this gentle woman. She made the most wonderful meal for us. First scrambled eggs with sausages, then rabbit with French-fried potatoes, salad with cream, and white wine and cider, and the most marvelous rice pudding with marmalade. At the end we had a bottle of champagne. Then we all helped in the garden digging some holes to hide precious silverware and dishes. A lot of wine was also stored away this way. We had about two more bottles of wine during the afternoon.
There was lots of artillery fire far off and late in the afternoon we decided to climb a hill from which we could observe. And, really, we saw the low country of Lessay full of smoke. We could see where every shell hit. It was quite a sight. Maybe after all the end was near.
We went back to the farm to say goodbye to the lady. She gave us about two dozen eggs, a big piece of meat, two loaves of bread, and six bottles of wine to take into our trench so we would have enough to eat. Back we went through the fields to our home loaded with new hope.
July 12, Wednesday: Not much exciting happened on this day. One German sergeant came into the house. Immediately I got four cigarettes from him. He spread a map on the table and over a glass of cider explained to me that he was lost and was searching for his company. I gave him some directions. God knows where he landed in the end.
The rest of the day went by. A rumor came out late in the afternoon that the Germans intended to evacuate this village. I was firm and insisted on staying. After all, I had helped build this trench for that purpose. All afternoon refugees with little belongings passed by in the street. They all went south. I was worried. We, of course, could stay in the trench, but if the Americans came as slowly as they did now, we would probably starve to death.
July 13, Thursday: Julien came in early in the morning all excited and told me that we had to leave. The Germans had ordered everybody out of the village by 4 in the afternoon and anybody found later than that would be considered a spy and would be shot. And they were not fooling either.
Julien told me where I had to go and, as it didn’t sound too bad, I decided to move once more for the last time. Of course I wanted to have my military clothes with me and Camille went back this morning and brought everything down. Albert had also left with his family and was on the road somewhere. Camille came back at noon. We had dinner at his place and then got ready to move. His mother kissed me goodbye. She was really a mother to us and wished us all the best of luck. We then took off down the road just pushing a two-wheeled wagon in front of us like hundreds of other Frenchpeople were doing. We had 18 kilometers to go. It was not bad.
We reported to Mr. Q., who had something to do with the underground. He gave us something to eat and then sent us two kilometers further to some house. I was surprised when I got there. This girl we had met a few days before lived there with her mother, sister and two brothers. They already knew we were coming. It was a fine family, rather wealthy. Her husband was in a prison camp in northern France. He had been caught by the Germans two years before when he picked up British parachute bundles with guns and ammunition.
It was a lovely home. Our uniforms were stored away. We had the most wonderful dinner and then talked together. There were three radios in this house which the young boy had made himself (he was an engineer), so we could hear American music again. Of course, this family wanted nobody to know of our being there. We could not go into town but there was no need of it. We occupied a wonderful room with water, toilet articles, etc. It was the best night in weeks.
July 14, Friday: Madam P. woke us at 9 a.m. for breakfast. There were three girls. The youngest was 9-year-old Monic, then Mimi about 20, and Juliette about 22. The older boy was 19 and the younger 13. They were lovely – like real French people I used to know. John spent most of the time at the radio. After all, he could not speak to the people. I played with Monic and helped the other two girls in the kitchen. Wherever I went in France the people made me feel at home immediately. In this place we also had books to read and every afternoon I gave some English lessons to the young girl. They were willing to learn and spoke some English.
July 15, Saturday: What was going to happen today? Again one of those Saturdays. Believe it or not, something very pleasant happened. John and I had our first bath. One of the girls who lived across the street and who spoke English perfectly brought us a shower. We heated some water, hung the bucket in the garage, and had our first shower in five weeks. We felt like new men. Had some clean shirts, put on tennis shoes, and were very happy. For dinner Mimi made "Choux a la creme." I had once mentioned that I liked it very much so she wanted to surprise me and made it herself. I almost cried when it came to the table and she was happy as never before. These people were so sincere about everything they did for us. We had a nice afternoon. Mr. P. came to visit us. The time went by quickly.
July 16, Sunday: We slept late as always. When we came down breakfast was ready on the table. The family had gone to the church. We helped ourselves and then played cards. "How long do you want to stay here, John?" I asked. "We surely won’t get home this way." My nerves could not hold out much longer. Then the family came home from church and told me they had heard that a camp was supposed to be made outside the city for all evacuees. The Red Cross flag would be put up and all civilians could stay until the front lines had passed this place. It all sounded good to me if it were true. John and I would go to the camp together with these people and afterwards would be free. However, the German general did not want to accept the plan and it would be decided tomorrow. I then made it clear to John that I would not evacuate anymore and he agreed with me.
July 17, Monday: Monday morning one of the girls told me that the camp had been refused. "We are then going to leave this afternoon," I said. "I must go and get back." Mr. P. came over and told me there was another French civilian who would join us, which was OK with me. He probably knew the way better than I did. I had figured out a certain way and believed we had at least a 50 percent chance of getting through.
Our final hours had arrived. I just want to describe this last dinner we had at the house. There was a white tablecloth; the American flag on the left, French in the middle, and the British on the right. Around every white plate there were flowers in red, white and blue. It really looked beautiful. We first had three different kinds of cold cuts; then vegetable soup, roast beef, French-fried potatoes, salad with cream, white wine and cider, berries with whipped cream, and a most wonderful coffee cream cake made especially by Mimi. After all that we drank a bottle of champagne and then coffee. What a meal this was! You could not have had more at a wedding.
It was hard for me to leave. I liked these people so much I really did not want to go. But after all I was a soldier and it was my duty to get back to my outfit – an outfit one can be proud of. The boy got our sack with our clothes. I took my dogtags and pay book with me and put my paratrooper boots into my sack. The girls and boys were dying for a souvenir from us. I gave away both my watches and a pair of wings. John did the same. They had a happy look on their faces when I gave these to them.
The French boy showed up in time and at exactly 3 in the afternoon we started out. I said goodbye and told them to burn my clothes if I was not back within two days. I had to promise to look them up after the war.
It was hard to say goodbye. Would we ever see them again? They gave us a small bottle of calvados and some sandwiches. I will never forget the young girl Monic. She wanted to come with me so badly. In fact, they all wanted to come and be free on the other side of the line. From here on until we ran into the first American jeep were long hours for me. I cannot talk about it or write it down at this time – but sometime. I thought my heart stood still when we passed through German artillery positions at midnight.
It was successful.
July 18, Tuesday: We were tired and hungry, but happy. We hade not met an American yet. Passed a couple of minefields, and then saw the first G.I. road sign. We walked along the road. Then at a crossing we finally sat down, ate our last piece of bread, and waited. After a few minutes I heard an American jeep. I jumped up, went to the middle of the road, and told the driver the situation. I don’t know whether he believed us or not, but he took us to the first Command Post.
The Major there I shall always remember. Before asking any questions at all he told us to go and eat. Good American food, hot coffee and French toast. The French boy almost went crazy. He had not seen white bread for over four years. We got all the cigarettes and candy we wanted and then were sent back immediately to St. Sauver le Compte. There were special personnel to interrogate us. They gave us a tremendous welcome. The entire afternoon was spent taking movies and photos. At night we were rushed up to Army headquarters; spent until 4 in the morning with the G-2. We had quite a bit to tell him. We knew every foot of the country across the lines. This colonel was highly pleased. We met General Bradley and some other high officers. We were still in civilian clothes.
July 19, Wednesday: We were taken to some evacuation company. Of course, this was a place where you could get stuck for weeks sometimes. Again movies and pictures. I don’t remember how many French bills and dollars we had to sign for the boys. We went to the company commander and told him we were "shuffling off." "Good luck to you fellows," is all he had to say.
We marched straight down to the airstrip where our famous C-47 Transport Planes landed. After all, we had done combat in those ships; we might as well go home in one. Our regiment had left France already two weeks before. "Show me your orders," said the captain there. We had nothing to produce and there were 17 colonels and three generals waiting for a ride. We called up our colonel and he told the transport officer that we were the first men to enter the next outgoing plane. Many looked at us. We were dressed rather funny – officer’s pants, red sweaters, and a musette bag.
We landed in southern England, went to the G-2 of the airport, and he gave us a special four-seater plane back to Nottingham. It all seemed to have been a long, bad dream. I arrived at Nottingham at midnight. My officer was standing near the road. I recognized him immediately. I told the driver to stop and shouted, "Come on, Lieutenant, are you going back to camp?" You can imagine how surprised he was to see me. I slept in his tent that night and the next morning I went over to my company. We had a wonderful reunion. Some guys swore they had seen my body in France and could not believe it when I walked in.
So many things had happened in these weeks I could not remember all of them. To think about it now, it is wonderful to be free and back with the boys. I went on my furlough immediately and recuperated from the nervous strain.
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