My War in Two Armies: Part 2 of 10 Trapped in France

General demobilisation of the French forces had begun and the first to be released were the transport and public services employees. Having been an employee of French Railways, I applied for my demobilisation and was finally discharged on the 15th July 1940 at the Mairie de Sainte-Livrade, and like all “other ranks” received the sum of 200 francs with a warrant for a further 800 francs on reaching home. Since my repatriation to England was of course out of the question, I gave as my home address that of Oncle Pierre at Thomery (near Fontainebleau) in the German occupied part of France.

Early the next morning I said goodbye to my army companions and got a lift in one of our lorries as far as Villeneuve-sur-Lot, where I continued by train to a place called Penne to collect two days’ food rations. My next stop was at Agen and from there on to Toulouse by train. The train service was curtailed to about one a day, stopping at all stations and crammed with people.

It was strange at first being on my own and out of the army, although I was still wearing my uniform. What little money I had I intended to make last as long as possible, as my immediate objective was to explore for myself the chances of getting back to England, and to take advantage of the general disorganisation to do so. As soon as order was re-established the possibilities would grow much more difficult; I was therefore prepared to consider any likely scheme I could think up. My first step on arriving at Toulouse was to visit the army depot at the Caserne Niel, where I exchanged my uniform for a civilian suit, had a meal and slept the night. There was no British Consul in Toulouse, but I called without success at the Portuguese Consulate.

I had about 2,000 francs with me and decided to travel to Marseilles where the nearest British Consulate was situated. I was able to go by train free of charge on presentation of my demobilisation papers, and arrived at Marseilles on the 18th July at 10pm. I spent the rest of the night in the station’s refugee centre with crowds of displaced people. Here, as in all other towns in the south, the local authorities did their best to cope with the much-increased population. Communal feeding and sleeping centres were improvised to deal with the most destitute; hotels and station waiting rooms were full. After a long search I secured a room in a small hotel, Hôtel Windsor, on the top floor. My first move after this was to go to the British Consulate, but a notice on the door said that the American Consul had taken over the affairs of the British Consul and would be looking after the interests of British subjects.

A number of British soldiers and seamen, who had managed to make their way to Marseilles, were also waiting in the hopes of receiving help from the American Consul. Amongst them I spoke to was Rifleman William Bamon, of C Company, 2nd Battalion, King’s Royal Rifle Corps who had been in the same battalion at Calais at the end of May as my brother Jean, but in different Company. Bamon, a Welshman with 13 years’ service in the army, gave me his version of what had happened after his unit arrived at Calais after crossing the Channel from Southampton on the 22nd May. The KRRs together with some other units defended Calais for about three days before being overwhelmed, and few escaped being taken prisoner.

We were later interviewed by the American Vice-Consul, who noted the information each one of us gave him. The British servicemen were later given identity papers bearing their photograph and stating that they were under the protection of the American Consul. In my case, no help or suggestions could be offered for my return to England and I did not require any identity papers as I was already well supplied with my French Army and other documents.

During the next few days in Marseilles I decided to look for a job and to keep in touch with my friends at the British and American Consulates. The chances of finding work at the time were extremely remote; still I tried the shipping lines and the railways, but without success, as business had almost come to a standstill everywhere. I paid a visit to the préfecture in the hope of obtaining an exit permit to leave France, but this I was told was out of the question. It was now also certain that the consulates could do nothing to assist anyone who wanted to leave the country and it was up to oneself to attempt to cross into Spain or smuggle on board a ship sailing to North Africa.

In order to save what little money I had left, I left the Hôtel Windsor and went to the Salvation Army hostel in Marseilles, where the British soldiers were staying and where I was able to obtain accommodation for a couple of nights.

On the 22nd July the British soldiers suddenly left the Salvation Army and were found alternative quarters at the British Seamen’s Mission in Marseilles which was under the supervision and care of a British padre. This move was no doubt intended to avoid the attention of the French police. I visited my friends at the Mission to find out whether there had been any further developments in the efforts being made to get them back to England, but it seemed that their position had not improved. In fact I was informed on a subsequent visit to the Mission that the soldiers had finally been rounded up by the authorities and interned.

When I realised that nothing further could be done to leave France and having been unsuccessful in finding a job, I decided to leave Marseilles and try to travel to Thomery where my uncle Pierre lived. Thomery was in the German occupied part of France, some 50 miles south-east of Paris and it was possible, at the time, for refugees whose home was in the occupied zone to apply for a travel permit in order to return home. I was able to obtain such a permit and after spending my last night in Marseilles at the refugee centre I left by train on the 26th July. Each refugee was given 180 francs and food for two days. The train was packed full of people returning north and was the longest I had ever seen. It was made up of old coaches without corridors and with wooden seats; its speed was that of a slow goods train.

The following morning at 10am we arrived at Macon, which was the last station in unoccupied France. We spent five hours in the station while French officials were busy sorting out the passengers. Each person was allocated a seat in a certain coach, strictly in accordance with the German instructions, and lists of passengers were prepared accordingly. These lists were to be handed to the German control at the frontier station by one person responsible for each coach. I agreed to hold the list of the people in my particular coach.

We finally left Macon and slowly approached the frontier station of Châlon-sur-Saône, where incidentally we had to change over from French time to Central European Time. The train stopped and I noticed that German sentries were patrolling the platforms. No one was allowed off the train and the Germans proceeded to check the passengers starting with our coach. I handed my list to the German officer, who was accompanied by an NCO, and the two of them carefully examined the list and demanded to see our papers; they also looked over our hand luggage. When finally all the passengers on the train had been examined, we were allowed to proceed on our journey and the train eventually arrived in Paris at the Gare de l’Est on the 28th July 1940 at 7 o’clock in the morning, after two days’ travel from Marseilles. Normally the journey took just 10 hours.

Paris had now been occupied for some six weeks and the sight of so many Germans took some getting used to. I tried to contact my uncle Pierre Sardou but was told that he was in Pau in the south of France. I did however see my aunt Lucy Barron at her home in Passy. That same day I left Paris by train and arrived in the evening at my uncle Pierre Vila’s home in Thomery. My arrival was a great surprise to my uncle and aunt. I had been unable to let them know of my plans, as postal services had not operated in occupied France since the invasion (although such services were now just being resumed). They had not heard from me since I left Dijon and were greatly relieved at seeing me again.

For the following six months I lived in Thomery where my Oncle Pierre and Tante Madeleine had many friends. They had lived there in retirement and my uncle was now a complete invalid. Their hospitality at the time was a great help to me as I had nowhere else to go and the future was very uncertain. They lived frugally, supplementing their rations with the garden produce. A very large proportion of the inhabitants of Thomery had evacuated, but some were beginning to return. For about three months after my arrival, the village was occupied by German troops billeted in the empty houses and in the local château. Here things were quiet and there were no incidents in this rural community; the population, what was left, just continued its normal fruit growing activities. Permission to travel from one place to another had however to be obtained from the German Feld Kommandantur at the Mairie of Thomery.

Although I had sent many letters home from various places I was without news from Mother and did not know what had happened to Jean. It was not until the 15th December 1940 that one of Mother’s letters reached me in Thomery. This was a great joy although the letter was dated 12th September and it had taken all that time to arrive, through a post box address in Lisbon. My first news of Jean’s captivity was not until January 1941 through the International Red Cross, which said that Jean was a prisoner-of-war at Stalag XXID near Schubin in Poland.

About two weeks after arriving in Thomery, I obtained a permit to visit Paris with the intention of looking for a job with French National Railways. Work of any kind was difficult to find either in Paris or in the nearby town of Fontainebleau. I stayed four days with my aunt Lucy Barron who lived with her daughter Henriette at Passy. I tried to contact some of the French Railways staff I had known in London and who had returned to France at the beginning of the war, but none of them were in Paris at the time and the Railways had no vacant jobs to offer me. I called on my bank, the Société Générale, to draw out what was left of my account, and returned to Thomery on the 18th August.

During the first months of the occupation every village in the district surrounding Thomery was garrisoned by the Germans and one had to become used to their presence: new regulations posted on street walls, propaganda posters, the German paper money which was currency alongside the franc. Relations between the French and the Germans were always strictly formal and strained and co-operation was kept to a minimum. Most people were able to listen to the BBC French news and commentaries in spite of the jamming sound. I often used to go to Fontainebleau by bicycle and here, as in Paris, the important buildings and hotels were commandeered; German sign-posts appeared and even the traffic (mostly German) was controlled by them.

At the end of September 1940 I again went to Paris and visited my aunt Lucy Barron and my uncle Pierre Sardou who was now back in his Paris home near the Etoile. I also kept in touch with French Railways regarding a job in Paris. Finally, while I was in Thomery, I received a letter from the Railways offering me work at their offices in the boulevard Hausmann and I started my new job on the 2nd January 1941. This was only a temporary post but in the existing circumstances and the difficulties of finding work, I considered it worthwhile. A friend I had known at the French Railways offices in London, Robert Tortochaux, offered me accommodation during the week at his home at Villeneuve-St-Georges; the weekends I spent in Thomery. My job lasted until the 10th May 1941, but I was offered another temporary post at one of the Railways’ offices at Porte Dauphine and I found accommodation at Bois-Colombes, which was closer to my work. Work, however, came to an end one month later, but after further negotiations I secured a more stable situation in the offices of the Railways adjoining the Gare d’Austerlitz in Paris.

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