Adolescence - Secondary Studies - 1939 / 1944

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September 1939. The plans of restarting my studies in October at the Primary Seminary of Rimont, near the town of Buxy fell through, due to the declaration of war, and because the institution was being requisitioned for the mobilization. Another institution, which, was not truly a Seminary, but which offered similar vocation studies would be able to accept me. It was located in the Rhone Department, adjacent to our own Department. It was the Clericalist School of "Our Lady de la Roche", situated in a community of the Forez Mountains named "Les Sauvages" near Tarare City, at an altitude of 2,700 feet, and in a scenic environment where its beauty can still be appreciated to this day, especially in the summer.

My life in this institution where I arrived by the end of October 1939, would be in a very different environment than in my familial milieu, and rather mournful. Dad accompanied me to my new school, and it was the first time I had left Chateaurenaud, except for a few excursions in the Jura Mountains with the Church Club. The first part of the trip was by train to Bourg-en-Bresse, Lyon-Perrache then Tarare. There, a car from the institution, or a bus took us to the school 10 kilometers away, over the pass of "Les Sauvages." As long as my Dad was with me, I had no ideas what was awaiting me. I can still see him when he said goodbye to me, and when I saw him leave… I had a very heavy heart!
The separation would be very long, because we came back in our family only for vacations: Christmas, Easter, and summer holidays.

I entered the sixth grade as a full time boarder, and it took me a long time to become acclimated to this new regime where discipline was harsh. The religious were omnipresent, from wakeup time to bedtime. Not one single hour passed without prayer, adapted to the activity of the moment. The daily attendance at mass was mandatory before breakfast. Every class, and every meal had its ritual as well. But, I must admit that after the education we received from our family at home, we did not find the institution life too demanding.
The studies were "Classic" … very classic: French, Latin and Greek were primordial. Mathematics was not nearly as emphasized and the foreign language was Italian of course! Religious studies were a heavy program.
The boarders mostly came from financially modest families, and the pension was free. That meant very little money for livelihood. Luckily, there was a small farm adjoining the school, which was a blessing, especially during the following years (1941/44) under German occupation and food rationing.
On Thursday afternoons, we were expected to help with gardening and other tasks, especially for us kids coming from an agricultural environment. The other kids performed various maintenance chores.
The first Winter of the war in France (1939/40) was most severe. At an altitude of 2,500 feet where we resided at the institution, the winds hit the hill from all directions, and we were always exposed to inclement weather. Heating, which was provided by wood-stoves was barely adequate. Water froze in the sinks, and the priest in charge of our bunkhouse used a blowtorch to thaw the pipes so that we could take a "birdbath". Hot water was only available in the shower that we used once a month. As soon as we were dressed, we had morning exercises in the courtyard, or in the covered playground if it rained or snowed.

The first trimester was extremely long for me.We were required to write to our families once a week, but our letters could only be sealed by the Superior. The mail we received was also opened and read by the Superior before distribution. Indeed, all of our mail was censured.
We were all disappointed when we learned that the Christmas and Easter vacations could only be taken after those holidays were first celebrated at the school.
Students could have their parents come for a visit on Sundays, but it was only those living close by that came from time to time.
For me, as for many others, it was out of the question to get a visit because of the distance.
Comradeship among students was generally good in spite of some frictions between kids enduring hardships. The example set by our elders who were loyal to the school was important.
There were however good times and some relaxation. When weather permitted, we played soccer everyday after the noon meal, time enough for a half game (half time).

During the winter it snowed abundantly, so we also had some sled parties on Thursday afternoons. For me, who came from the plain region of Bresse, it was truly an exciting affair sliding down the slopes on these devices equipped with directional skates…I had never seen those before!
The outside world events concerning the war reached us only briefly. No news media were available, only news fragments received through the mail (which was not advisable), and the rare news from our Superior.
It was now June 1940, and the anticipated early end of the school year, due the "National Debacle". School was over, but for some of us it was already too late to head North to rejoin our families. We had to be escorted by a Priest who succeeded in guiding us to Chalon-Sur-Saone where I had to spend one night in the presbytery.

(What follows was written later on and published for an exchange forum concerning World War Two and added to this story for reference only) On this day the 18th of June1940. Tuesday June 18 1940 would live in French memories as the day when General De Gaulle made his famous appeal to the French people, but nobody in our region heard this appeal because radio receivers were few. As for me, it is only the brief memory of a 12 years old kid… The institution where I was a resident was located in the Forez Lyonnais region the "middle of nowhere", and we were sent back home early since the school year had ended due to the war events. Trains were no longer operating to the north, and I would have to hitchhike back home to Louhans. After passing a night in Chalon, on this Tuesday June 18th, carrying my small suitcase, I was picked up by a "providential" small truck that would take me to Louhans. Then, I had to walk three miles to our family house. As soon as I left town going up the hill, I encountered a squad of German reconnaissance motorcyclists who took a stand on the side of the road, guns aimed at me I thought…but in really they were aiming towards the town of Louhans. The road was deserted, I was afraid, but I kept on walking towards them and passed beside them "as quiet as a mouse", of course!I reached my parent's house and told them about my encounter with the Germans. Living in a distant hamlet, they didn't know that German troops had reached our country and they doubted my story. Later on, the arrival of armored and other vehicles rattled the countryside, confirming my story. Then, I found out that my older sister and three brothers (ranging in age from16 to 20 years) had left home by bike towards the South, and that they had planned to take me with them on the way. Obviously, they could not find me, and they continued their exodus to the town of Mende in the Lozere Department. They stayed there over three weeks before they could come back home. A few days after June 18th, we learned through fragmented news about the negotiations, and the signature of the Armistice on June 24th. German troops only passed briefly through Louhans, and after that, we only talked about the Demarcation Line that passed 15 miles to the north of us, following the Doubs and Saone rivers. In 1940, our school vacations were different than usual, lasting three and half months. In the country, the agricultural work was very disorganized as a result of many farm workers captured as prisoners of war and the young people's evacuation to the south. This evacuation had been strongly advised by the authorities, but finally it proved to be unjustified in our region. There was great mutual help in the country among the farmers because many families were still awaiting news from their soldiers, but most of them had been taken prisoners. P.S. I know that those few lines will add absolutely nothing to the history of World War Two, but for me, the events of June 18 1940 are still engraved in my memories. It is the first time that I have related those events; I had to, before they fall into oblivion.

In May of 1944. I also witnessed a horrible bombing on the City of Lyon. I had been selected to take an exam for the purpose of receiving a scholarship (which by the way, I flanked). During this exam, an air raid alert sounded and we took refuge under the "Croix-Rousse" tunnel that was under construction; it was for certain a bomb shelter very secure! What a disaster we observed when we emerged from our shelter! There were hundreds of victims this day and lots of destruction on the nearby railroad installations of Vaise..

May 26th 1944. "On this day in Lyon, the City suffered heavily: 1,467 buildings destroyed; 717 deaths; 1,129 injured and 20,000 homeless. The people of Lyon as a whole condemned the Americans for "carpet bombing" the districts close to the stations of Guillotière and Vaise. A protest from the Staff of R1 ensued." According to Evelyne.Py@ac-lyon.fr Vaise Station - Lyon- Leaflet Relive - 1944

The summer vacations, allowed me to reinsert myself into the familial ambience, but life was now different as a result of the war, and the German occupation. I was happy to eat full meals and no longer go hungry. I was also happy to help with work in the fields. Many neighboring farms now had their workers prisoners of war in Germany, so we had to help in the neighborhood, especially at Pierre Paquelier, our nearest neighbor whose son Armand was also a prisoner of war. Other farms also needed help, such as the Moreys and Deliances.

During the years (1941, 1942 and 1943) we welcomed other children for vacations in our family. First, Solange a girl from the City of Macon, then Genevieve from Paris. These girls were sent by the Social Services.

It was during this time frame that we obtained our first radio receiver, which was lent to us. It permitted us to stay informed about the war operations, and other events in France. . In our family, my brother Pierre volunteered for military service in the "Army of the Armistice" after his service in the "Chantiers de Jeunesse" organization in 1941. He stayed in the army until its dissolution in November 1942. Then, he joined the Resistance, which at first was not "accepted with enthusiasm" in our family. The Resistance's reputation then was not very glorious, they were more or less considered outlaws.

Our Dad whom was a World War One veteran (1914/1918) was naturally pro Marshal Petain, as were most of the veterans of the big war. It was only later on during the war that progressively the opinions changed when learning of Petain's Militia cooperating fully in German "activities".

In 1942, my brother Jean was also called for his military service in the "Chantiers de Jeunesse", serving in one Company of Mule-drivers in the Savoy Mountains. At the end of this service they were all sent to Germany to serve with the S.T.O. (Mandatory Work Service).
As their train passed in our Bresse area having to slowdown due the numerous sabotages on the railroad track, most of them succeeded to escape, and scattered in the countryside. My brother was one of them, and he had to hide under a false identity, even obtaining an official work card shortly before the Liberation in September 1944.
A the school of Notre Dame de la Roche, the number of students in the different classes from the 7th grade to the Senior class progressively decreased from about 30 to 7 or 8. Every year, we were faced with a hard decision to make: were we really destined to pursue "the way" that would lead us to the Seminary after the Baccalaureate? If not, would it not be better to leave? Every new school year, there were defections, some students opting to leave.
As for me, I began to think about it, without daring to bring up the subject with my family. I thought that my parents would be disappointed if I abandoned "the way", which we called a vocation. The years passed, I was now in Second class and considering my options; two more years of school until the baccalaureate, which would have facilitate access to a great profession, or quitting at the end of the school year.
June 6th 1944: Landing of Allied troops in Normandy. The school year was once again shortened, the final tests being conjectural.
Back at home; I announced that I would not return to school the next year. Evident disappointment from my parents of course! And, what could I do at home now?
Other preoccupations diverted me away from this subject. First, the situation of my brother Jean, who was in hiding, having deserted the S.T.O. And, the situation of Pierre whom had joined the Resistance a while back. Likewise, the Allied landing and the ensuing battles occupied everyone's thoughts more than my "modified" future.
Work in the fields would keep me employed part time at home because of manpower shortage… Pierre was still in the resistance; Jean was still in hiding, and Francois who was still employed at the Colas farm since 1940 (They had 2 sons prisoners of war). But, I realized that I was no longer able to do agricultural work…I could not keep up with my brothers working along the furrows, in spite of all my efforts.
In September 4th 1944 Louhans was liberated. My brother Jean could now emerge from hiding…only to be mobilized for a few months. Pierre joined the regular Army and participated in the battles with the 2nd B.C.P. towards the Alsace Region, then on to Germany until the Victory in May 1945.
The exalting ambience of these times, the report of the aviators' feats and glory in this era made me envious, and gave me the desire to pursue a career in the French Air Force. But I had to wait until I was 17 years old… I would have to wait another three months. In the meanwhile, I worked at my uncle Antoine one day a week, not making much money since work was scarce and my employer was a penny-pincher!
In December 1944, I received a letter asking me to report to Macon for a medical exam before signing a contract with the French Air Force. Then I was sent back home awaiting my incorporation. I would have to wait until April 1945!
At our house, some improvements would take place in the next few years: in the common room, the uneven brick floor would be replaced with a concrete floor, easier to maintain. We would finally get running water in the kitchen, and in the cattle-shed, with an electric pump hooked up to the well.
A young horse, and one pair of oxen would replace the old mare. But the mechanization of the farm equipment would take a while longer...

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. …The continuation of those memories is another story, it is my Aviation journey, which is related elsewhere.
Written at La Troche, Christmas 2000.

Translated with the help of my friend in USA, Michel Leveillard. - August 2002 -