In an
earlier post I painted a rose-colored picture of our summers in La Chapelle St. Sépulcre, a tiny village south of Paris near
Montargis. My former mother-in-law,
Juliette, was a strong, principled woman.
She was small with bright blue eyes and lovely creamy skin. During the latter part of the German
occupation, she moved from Paris to the village with her three little boys. The
house had thick stone walls and a tiled floor.
There was a fireplace and a wood-burning stove but it must
have been terribly cold during the long winters of World War II.
In Paris it had become difficult to procure
food for the children. In the country
they could obtain root vegetables and maybe some milk and an egg or two. The children got tired of the carrots and
wormy apples. Juliette force-fed the
toddlers when they refused to eat. Among
the most hated vegetables were salsify and topinambour
(Jerusalem artichokes). Along with the
constant hunger and cold was the fear of the German soldiers who could suddenly
arrive unannounced in the village.
In June of 1944, the villagers
learned of the Normandy invasion. Excitement
bubbled through the hamlet. A short
time later, there were rumblings that the Germans had begun to flee the
approaching Allied Forces. It was said
that the soldiers would grab anything they could; shoot for a loaf of rancid
bread or kill for a bicycle.
One night Juliette put the children
to bed and then locked up the house; closed the heavy metal shutters and
secured the door. She fell into a fitful
sleep and then awoke in fear. Outside
she could hear footsteps on the gravel, murmurings and undefinable rustling. She lay there in terror. In the early light, there was a heavy knock
on the wooden door. With trepidation,
she unlocked the door and peeked out.
There towering over her were two American GIs chewing gum and smiling
broadly. The meadow behind the house
was sprinkled with tents. Soldiers were busy setting up camp. In the next few days Juliette and the boys
were treated to canned beans, spam, sugar and chocolate. It was heaven on earth.
In the weeks that followed, the road
that wound through the village became a major supply line for the Allied Forces. A continual parade of trucks, jeeps and tanks
thundered by the house for days on end.
The soldiers would smile, wave and toss out chocolate.
Until the day she died, Juliette
spoke of the Americans with great warmth.
They were indeed her saviors.
 |
| The American soldiers pitched their tents in this field behind the house. |
