January 9, 2002

•                             I had a comrade ....

    In 1944 I was 11 years old and I lived in Marquise , little town situated between Boulogne - sur - Mer and Calais near France ' s northwest coast and particularly near the Cape Griz - Nez transformed by Germans in a dangerous fortress threatening Britain with big guns . My father was a worker in a factory and my mother remained at home , what it was frequent at this time . I was the only one child of the family .

    During the War the school was occuped by germans , so we went to the elementary school half every day in a little house . With my friends we had a half - wild life and we played in the grazings differents kinds of games often warrior games . We did not like Germans at this time . Not only they were the envaders but they appropriated all goods . We had nothing . Very little to eat . My mother Marthe had to make clothes , sometimes bread and even...soap ! My father Emile resoled  shoes with bits of old tires . Fortunatly he had a friend , farmer in a next village . He helped him during his short holidays at the fields works and at the harvest ( works with horses ) . So we got some potatoes , pork , eggs and butter but not too much . My father was not a soldier . He had been called to remain in his factory which made arming and shells , if I well remember . He had not given his gun and his radio post as the Germans asked . So we listened to BBC ( British radio ) in French every night during all the war what it was strictly not allowed by Germans with the risk to be deported in Germany .

    May and June 1944 were terrible months . Americans and Englishmen bombed huge areas all around us . The town of Boulogne - sur - mer was completely destroyed . Allied hoped that Germans would think the landing of american, english and canadian forces would have here , in north . Besides , Germans were building very important tubes under chalk hills in a village near Marquise called Landrethun in order to shoot missiles at England , especially at London . So , many big american bomber planes that we called " flying fortress " always bombed the Landrethun ' s area . American planes always were staying high in the sky to avoid the German anti - aircraft defence and threw their bombs moreless approximatively . One of them reached the objective from time to time but they reached anything else . My grand parents lived in Landrethun .

    One night my grand parents and their three last children heard the planes come in . They got up immediately and ran away to the shelter they had dug in the garden to about 25 meters from the house . As soon as they were in , they heard a terrible thunder . They were frightened to death . My youngest aunt ( Yolande ) went out of the shelter when the quietness was restored and shouted : " Mom ! we have no more house ! There is nothing more ! " At the place of the house there was a huge crater . The bom was just fallen on the bedroom where they were just before . No more house , neither furnitures nor clothes ! Nothing ! At the far end of the house the roof of the cowshed was fallen on the four cows that were crying , their spinal column was broken . Germans brought them for butchery . My grand father became sick and died the next year .

    My father built for them a kind of " cottage " , in reality a shack containing only one big room with wood taken up from german positions . Germans indeed were more and more running away but not all of them . The  Cape Gris - Nez  remained a dangerous fortress where they resisted . And , at last , the canadian army arrived in Marquise ( September 1944 ) . French people were in the streets congratulating the soldiers and fraternizing wih them . But , as soon as Canadiens were there , german guns , turned inland , shot us from the Cape Griz Nez . Peace was not there yet .

    The canadian artillery arrived and shot the Cape Gris nez .  A battery was at the end of the street where my grand parents lived in Landrethun . I used to drive my bicycle from Marquise to Landrethun where my father built a shack for my grand parents and since the canadian battery was nearby I always was with the soldiers and looked at how the guns were working . At this time I was an intrepid  boy probably . I was proud to be among these soldiers who freed us and fought against ennemy for us . I had the impression to participate . I wanted to have a friend among these soldiers . I was a little the troop ' s kid . Quickly I fraternized with Douglas . He was kind and protected me strictly because I was not very prudent and even not at all . He was a straight man and I felt that . I don' t remember how we understood each other since I had not learned English yet and he had some remembrances only about French .  Some words were sufficient probably . He was my comrade soldier that I was happy and proud to get . I wonder now how I could enter the battery . I asked someone " Is Dougles there ? " . If he was there I entered and wandered in the camp . From time to time we talked . We talked about the war ( I was informed ) , about his wife and also my family .

    My parents invited Douglas for a meal at home in Marquise .I took him at his battery in landrethun and we walked and rode in bicycle along a lane between big marble quarries . My parents had put on the table a dusty bottle of wine to honour him . I wondered where they have had this bottle since we had nothing . I think it was a bottle remaining from my first Holy Communion Day in previous June . It must be carefully hidden .

    One day I went to Landrethun . The battery was gone and also my comrade .

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  Below , the translation in French.

  • 9:54 am
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