A tale of two cities

A Tale of Two Cities

An occupied city

He woke up to find himself locked in a darkened room.  Was it night or day now? There was no way of knowing. His watch had gone as had all his money and his identification papers. Rubbing his head with his grimy hands he tried to remember what had happened to him the day before. His mouth was so parched, his stomach growling with hunger that it was hard to concentrate.

This was Paris 1940. Indeed, this was occupied Paris. His beloved city, the city of light, now taken over by Hitler’s army.

He remembered that Sunday in June, would he ever forget it. Those who were there hadwatched this entry, this rape of their beloved city in silence. He had seen it all with Nora. They had stood there just near the Arc de Triomphe, their arms about each other, too shocked to say anything. Several hours later back at their apartment with the radio on they had heard the order from the Fuhrer that flags should be flown throughout Germany for the next three days to celebrate this victory.  He remembered saying to Nora, “Who the fuck does Hitler think he is? The second Napoleon?”

For Nora was a Jew. She had been following very closely the stories coming out of Germany, Austria and Poland of the horrors that were being metered out to the Jews, seemingly getting worse each day.

Nora was a teacher in a Jewish primary school. She had been getting more and more worried about the restrictions being promulgated against the Jews. There were two children, twins, in particular who she felt were under enormous threat. Their parents were dead, had both died of a particularly virulent flu that had been prevalent in the city. They had been taken in by an Aunt and Uncle . However the problem was that the twins were Jewish via their father, whereas their Aunt and Uncle were Christian. Nora had gained the confidence of the twins who had told her that their Aunt especially was very mean to them, always calling them, “You little dirty Jewesses”.

The free city

Betty sat in her London flat rereading the letter from her cousin Nora. She put it down, absent mindedly stirring her coffee.   She picked up the letter again, rereading the last page which had made her involuntarily shiver when she had first read it. This time she got up to draw the curtains, even though it was only four o’clock in the afternoon. It was November, the nights were growing longer and colder. She went over to the gas fire, turning it on, then picked up the photo of Nora and Jacques from the mantlepiece. It was taken on their wedding day in happier times. What a beautiful couple. Nora with her masses of dark curls styled in a chignon for the day and Jacques with his fair hair, brushed for once, looking at each other with so much love in their eyes, Betty felt a lump rise in her throat.

She was like any Londoner, devouring the papers, avidly listening to the BBC to find out what was happening in Europe. The little that was seeping out from Germany about the treatment of the Jews, made her fearful of what was going to happen to the Jewish population of France, now that she was an occupied country. Hitler and Himmler were united in their virulent antisemitism, nothing was going to stop them in their need to purge Europe of the “Jewish filth”.

“Please, please, please dearest, dearest cousin, Nora had written. “I urgently need your help. I am sure you know that the situation for the Jews gets worse each day. At the moment I don’t even have Jacques to help as he was arrested last night. He got into a fight coming home from the club where he plays the trumpet. Being non-Jewish he doesn’t have the restrictions that I do. Unfortunately, with the SS in full swing here and patronising the clubs he encounters these thugs every time he plays. He had only been home five minutes when four of them thumped on our door demanding him to come out. They accused him of playing what they call ‘degenerate American Jazz’. Jacques had had a few drinks, so his tongue was loosened and he told them and I am quoting, “Go and stick your fucking Nazi ideology up your arse”. No prizes for guessing that this did not go down too well. They dragged him off telling him he needed to spend some time in the depot of the Police Prefecture, which is in the heart of the city. I am so worried about him Betty, but I don’t have time to sit and mope.

Twins at my school, sisters, they remind me of our mothers, so close to each other. They are orphans and Jewish, but living with non-Jewish relations who according to the girls are ‘absolutely horrible to them’. I believe them as they are very honest children and I have started to see bruises on them. One of them came in with a black eye yesterday. I just have to save them Betty. If your Nicholas Winton can save six hundred and sixty-nine children from Czechoslovakia, then I, or I hope we, can save two. Please, please, will you help me, Betty. . I have ideas but need to get some things in order before I go ahead. I am afraid your response will take too long by letter so could you call me. I will be home every evening after six. For our mothers and for the sake of two orphan children please call Betty. I know I can rely on you. However please keep this to yourself for now. Talk soon PLEASE.

With love always

Nora”

An occupied city.

Night was here again in the silent city of Paris. Nora was sitting in the apartment, a glass of red wine untouched on the table in front of her, her hands twisting together nervously, glancing every now and then at the phone, willing it to ring. 

Then admidst the silence, their front door banged and looking up she saw Jacques standing in the doorway of the sitting room. He looked terrible, dirty, bruised, pale but he still had a spark in his eyes. She jumped up, knocking the wine over in the process, running to him, throwing her arms around him murmuring, “You’re back, you’re back, thank God”. He kissed her on the mouth for a good few seconds, holding her tightly, then drawing away, laughingly he said, “God I must stink”. Giggling, she replied, “You do, but I don’t care, you are here and that’s all that matters”. He collapsed on the sofa, picking up her wine glass, draining what was in it, holding it out for a refill. “Jacques, tell me what happened”, she begged refilling the glass and pouring herself another one.

He proceeded to recount the history of his night and day in the locked room. They beat him up as they were dragging him along the street to the Police Prefecture where he was thrown in a cell. After lying on the stinking mattress all day with only a cup of water given to him, around seven p.m. the door was opened, he was told he was free to go but that if he was found playing that evil music again it would be off to a work camp. “I don’t know why I was so lucky to be let go like that”, he said, “but I think it might have been because they had just arrested a whole gang of communists and couldn’t be bothered with me any more”.

Nora leant over and kissed him. “Let me clean up your bruises before they go sceptic”, was all she said. The phone rang. Its shrill sound startling them both for a minute. Looking at him in earnest she said, “ I must take this, it will be Betty. I’ll explain”.

Jacques lay back on the sofa, closing his eyes, breathing a sigh of relief that he was home. He was brought to by Nora shaking him in excitement, “She’ll do it, she’ll do it, I knew she would”. Rubbing his eyes, he sleepily said, “Do what?”. Hurrying to the bathroom, she replied, “I’ll explain while I clean you up”.

After half an hour of Nora explaining what she wanted to do while efficiently cleaning him up, he sat there looking at her very seriously but with love in his eyes. “You know this is going to be very dangerous don’t you? Those Nazis are watching me now, you are a Jew, these children are Jews. How can we get exit visas for these children? They can’t travel on their own. I agree that it should be done but I just don’t see how Nora”.

Sitting down with the first aid box in her hands, she said quietly, “I know there are a million hurdles to jump over and hoops to go through but I have been thinking things out. Betty told me that she knows a Catholic nun who is in a convent not far from here, the Convent of Our Lady. Apparently she is English and Betty knows her from her days of nursing. Well Betty, bless her has been in touch with her as she knows, , that Sister Maria has been smuggling Jews out of Paris. She is a very brave woman. She has agreed to take the twins but there are quite a few things we need to organise first. Nora started to list all the things they needed to do, but after a few minutes, Jacques silenced her with a kiss, then taking her hand he led her into the bedroom, saying, “We can’t do anything tonight so we may as well go to bed!”

The free city.

While Nora and Jacques were sleeping or possibly not sleeping Betty, on the other hand, was busy making preparations for housing two eight year old girls. Not having children herself she didn’t have any of the paraphernalia. However she did have plenty of friends who did,so she had spent much of the day ringing around to see what she could borrow. During the day she had been over to the Jewish Temporary Shelter and Refugee organisation to get information from them as to how to go about resettling two young orphan children. They had been most helpful, telling her that providing she was prepared to house them for a few weeks, they would start to find a suitable home for them.

The occupied city.

On awaking Jacques found himself alone in the bed. Entering the kitchen he found a note scribbled in Nora’s almost illegible handwriting, saying, “Gone to see a man about Moses”. He laughed. This was their code for when Nora was doing something that was either dangerous or and probably illegal. “ Let’s face it,” he thought, “nearly everything is illegal now, especially for Jews.”. Eventually she returned home, excited, her cheeks flushed with triumph. “I’ve been to see Sister Maria, she is absolutely marvellous Jacques. She has all the resources to get these children their papers, non Jewish of course. Also it helps enormously that they are both girls, as she is going to use the cover for their travel, that as they are orphans, their sister convent in England is going to take them in and train them for the religious life. It’s a brilliant plan. What do you think?” “Well it sounds ok, he grudgingly admitted, “Lets hope it works”. Nora, always full of optimism, said, “I know it will, I am going to call Betty, I just hope I can get through, the phone line is always so precarious”.

Jacques went through to the kitchen to start the dinner. After about 20 minutes Nora came rushing into the kitchen, words exploding out of her, that Jacques had to say, “Slow down, look dinner is ready, so lets sit down, pour some wine and you can tell me what is going on”.

With the wine poured, dinner on the plates, Nora, inbetween mouthfuls of food told him of the proposed arrangements. She would go to school as usual in the morning, then after school she would take the twins to the Convent. I will make the excuse to them that I have something special to show them. I know they won’t question me. They are such trusting children. Sister Maria will be waiting at the convent and the children and I will sleep the night there. Then this is where you come in. Can you be at the convent at six am to take Sister Maria and the children to the Gare du Nord? Being a Jew, it is best I don’t come. Hopefully all will go well at the station and then we just have to wait until we hear from Betty that they have arrived safely”. “Oh yes,” said Jacques with a grimace, “as easy as ABC!”

All went well the next day with Nora alerting Jacques to their safe arrival at the convent. Jacques did not sleep well that night. He did not want to miss his alarm. He arrived at the appointed hour to find his little group waiting for him. A very calm looking nun, holding the hands of two pale, slightly scared looking girls and an anxious Nora. She kissed the children goodbye, trying not to cry, saying “Good luck” as she returned inside. It had been agreed that she would wait at the convent until Jacques got back. What an anxious three hours that was. Nora was so nervous, she even joined the Nuns for their morning prayer.

Eventually a ring at the door was heard and then Jacques was there with her in the guest room. “It’s okay” , were his first words. Touch and go at the barrier when showing their papers. I hung back as I didn’t want any SS recognising me. The officious guard seemed to take for ever to put a stamp on their papers. At last he did and I saw them get on the train.” “Oh, thank God,” said Nora through her tears. Now more waiting until we get Betty’s phone call.

The free city

Betty too had not been able to sleep and had been waiting for hours at Waterloo station. At last the train crawled into platform 14. So many people poured off the train, but no sign of the precious party she was waiting for.

The occupied city

Back in their apartment Nora and Jacques were smoking cigarette after cigarette, on to their second bottle of red, anxiously awaiting Betty’s phone call. They knew it was a perilous journey with quite a few checkpoints to get out of France. They had survived the Gare du Nord but then when they arrived at Saint Malo, to take the ferry across to Southampton there were bound to be more checks. Once in Southhampton they would be able to breathe more freely, and then catch the train to Waterloo.

The phone shrill ringing startled them. Nora ran to it. Jacques could hear her words of disbelief and concern making him anxious too. She came slowly back, stopping in the doorway. They haven’t arrived, Betty has been waiting at Waterloo for hours, now the last train for the day has just come in and they weren’t on it. “Oh my God Jacques, what can have happened. He came over, taking her in his arms, “Look, they may have missed the ferry or the last train. From what I hear and read it is an awful mess at the moment as the British authorities are scrambling to get troops and civilians out of France.

The free city

At first light, Betty was up and making her way back to Waterloo. There supposedly was a train in at ten a.m. and another at midday. She sat in the W.H. Smith bookshop cum café, drinking coffee and chain smoking. No luck with the ten o’clock train . Now to wait till midday. She felt she couldn’t stand any more coffee. She decided to go for a walk . She had only been walking for about five minutes when she came upon a church. Trying the door, finding it open, in she went, seating herself in a pew. Although Jewish, Betty had respect for all faiths and at this moment she felt she needed God. No prayers seemed to come but she found herself repeatedly saying, “Keep them safe, help them Lord”. Having had hardly any sleep, she dozed off, waking up with a jerk, looking at her watch she found it was nearly midday. Grabbing her bag, she ran back to the station, arriving just as the train from Southampton was drawing in. 

The Occupied City

After a sleepless night Nora and Jacques were at the kitchen table trying to eat something when once again the phone rang. Nora hurried to it, but came back shaking her head, “Not on the ten o’clock. This waiting is killing me, I am going for a walk”. “I will wait here in case it rings again”, Jacques said. When she came back she found him at the piano playing his beloved Chopin. The music was soothing. Sitting down in a chair to listen, she dropped off to sleep. It must have been a deep sleep as she was jolted awake by Jacques shaking her and kissing her at the same time, saying in a state of great euphoria, “They have arrived! They are safe. Tired, hungry but safe. It was as I thought they couldn’t get on that last train from San Malo to Southampton so had to wait until this morning.” Bringing her to her feet as she sobbed uncontrollably with relief”, he put his arms around her saying, “So Madame, when is the next rescue scheduled for?”!