I've had a total of two full weeks now studying in the archives. I've stumbled upon some incredible letters and other documents since I started, most of them very tragic. Today, for instance, I was reading through the file of wartime atrocities: following the German retreat, the provisional French government sent letters to all of the local prefects, asking them to collect all documents pertaining to Nazi war crimes, so that the perpetrators could be duly punished. The file, just from the Prefecture of Indre-et-Loire (the region I'm studying), is depressingly thick, and doesn't even include the human rights violations committed within the law, such as the internment and deportation of undesirables, such as Jews (which I'm currently studying).
I've decided to translate and publish the three most outstanding documents I've found: all of them, by coincidence, are handwritten letters. I will present them, along with their context, in the order which I encountered them, rather than chronologically.
The first document is the 140th in collection 10W66, which concerns German impositions on Jewish movement, businesses, etc. The local French prefect and the local German military representative had exchanged a flurry of notes about a wealthy Jewish man, M. Aron, who held numerous posts in prominent local institutions, such as the agricultural credit union. The officials systematically expelled him from all of them, and requisitioned his house; after he fell ill, he and his wife relocated to a clinic in Paris, and were informed that they were not allowed to return to Tours. In the first appearance of his own letter in the series of exchanges, Aron, on June 11th, 1942, addressed the following short letter to the Prefect's office.
Monsieur the Prefect
Arrested as Madame Aron and I were at our home on October 9th, we were driven to Angers and then to Drancy, where we were set free on the 28th, due to our age (we are 77 and 72 years old, respectively), and brought to the Rothschild Hospice. We are unable to leave, except to return directly to Tours, 11 rue de l'Alma.
I will therefore ask you, Monsieur the Prefect, to please give us authorization, permitted by the local German military, to return to my home.
We are French, Madame Aron and I, like our parents and grand-parents, as the family papers contained in my safe attest.
I have lived in Tours for 57 years, acting honorably in my business affairs: Messieurs Lazette, Riche, and others can testify to it.
Madame Aron has worked as a nurse and secretary of a certain J.J. [illegible] for 18 years, and has taken care of a great deal of works.
I therefore hope, Monsieur the Prefect, to be able to depend upon your benevolence and to graciously thank you in advance
Please accept, Monsieur the Prefect, the assurance of my distinguished consideration.
A. ARON
Hospice de Rothschilde
76 rue de Picques, Paris, 12th arrondissment
Eight days later, the paper trail ends with a refusal for permission to return from the Prefect, saying that the Germans were utterly opposed to M. Aron's return.
The second letter is near the tail end of the systematic arrest of half-a-dozen foreign Jews in Tours. The German authorities had instructed the French Prefect to arrest a few local foreign Jews, in order to set an example. The prefecture, with the police, decided on half-a-dozen unfortunate men, whom they selected for their poverty, lack of connections, and suspected immorality (black market activities, association with a mistress, etc.). On July 19th, 1941, a week and a half after the arrest, the following letter arrived at the Prefect's office (now located in file #78-79 120W2):
Please excuse the liberty that I take in writing to you. The subject is two medical students: Léon Bartfeld and Samuel Nissen, both of Romanian nationality, arrested Thursday, July 10th, and sent to the internment camp of Pithiviers. Their brusque and unexplained arrest -- for they always have their papers in order for the French and Romanian authorities, they have never participated in politics, and are otherwise irreproachable -- has plunged them into a terrible situation. They find themselves mixed among people of nationalities and backgrounds very different: not a single Romanian, and not a single student. They have to take an interning text before July 31st at the medical school of Tours. Moreover, being of Romanian nationality and therefore subject to mobilization, they are unable to respond to such a call.
They are also to hope, Monsieur the Prefect, that your high-level intervention will bring some amelioration to their situation. If their liberation is impossible, they could perhaps be transferred to the internment camp of Monts, fro which they would be able to at least keep in touch with the medical school of Tours.
All this information can be verified by their professor and director, Monsieur the Doctor Guillaume Lous.
In the hope that you will successfully intercede in their favor, please accept, Monsieur the Prefect, the assurance of their deepest respect.
For
L Bartfeld et S Nissim.
S Meunier
Madamoiselle Meunier, the author of this note, was one of the students' instructors at the medical school. She apparently went on to personally visit the Prefect's office sometime before July 27th, i.e. within a week following her first letter. Although she was apparently unsuccessful, she wrote a letter of thanks to the Prefect on the 29th: apparently, it was again the Germans who vetoed the transfer. However, the final episode in the story, at least in this file, comes in November of the same year, with the two students being tranfered, along with thirty-some other Jews, to Monts, the internment camp closer to their university, but not in time to take their exams.
The final letter I found today, near the end of the afternoon, as the 111th document in collection 66W1, the most heterogeneous, mixed-up file I have yet encountered. Somewhere, the file is supposed to include something about Jewish people, but all that I can find so far are a few photos, reports of collapsing bridges, and wartime atrocities. The following letter, written on August 29th, 1944, has no context, before or after: the document directly preceding it, for instance, is a report about the shooting of three local Catholic priests. The envelope is addressed to Mademoiselle Christiane Paillard, 28 rue Victor Hugo, Segré, Maine-et-Loire, and it may soon become clear why there is no prior paper trail:
My very dear Christiane,
I am very upset not to be able to see you again before my imminent departure, but you know, my very dear little Christiane, that with this war, service bypasses all else, and the circumstances have not allowed me to have any respite, except for having allowed me to unwind a little. Our love, all the same, remains very certain such that, for me, you are the most dear being in the world, and that I will never forget you; the hours that we passed together remain forever graven in my heart, and I hope that you, my dear little Christiane, will not forget me. I cannot give you any precise address, but will you please write as soon as you can to my Mother's house, the address I have already given you, and Mother will forward the letter to where I will be. You must know, my dear little Christiane, just how a letter of yours can please me. Also, I hope that you will not make me wait too long, for at this moment I see some black times ahead, and receiving news from you will be a great diversion for me. Beyond that, it is understood that the war will soon end, and I think that if no incident or accident should come by until this time, I will return to France in order to marry you, my dear little one. We have already chatted about it, and it is your dearest wish, and thereby mine, my dear little Christiane. I would not like to end this letter and forget your Father and Mother and your sister Gilberte. Also, would you please, by this toke, assure them of my durable friendship. And for you, my beloved Christiane, receive from the one who will always remain for you what he was, the affectionate kisses and sweetest caresses.
FRITZ
A German soldier with a French girlfriend? So it would seem. The girl's parents don't believe that he's sincere, and won't return after the war? That seems to be his concern. I didn't translate them, but there were numerous grammatical mistakes, throughout the letter. This remains the first love-letter that I have found. I've heard that they exist, and that historians typically get excited when I find them. I still don't know what to make of this: why is it in the archives? Did it ever reach its destination? Was it perhaps used as evidence of German seduction? That seems to be the only logical possibility. But that still doesn't explain how the authorities got hold of it... unless the girl or her parents handed it overt to them, as proof, in order to prosecute Fritz after the war. I don't know: it's anyone's guess, until I find a clue.
Anyway, enjoy the 4th of July, over there! It's not celebrated as a holiday in this country! But in 10 days, I'll have the pleasure of celebrating my second Bastille Day in France.
~JD
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