Chapter 3 - Mme Hausermann writes to her son in South America, 1939-41

1939

Friday 1 September

The whole country is called to arms; the village has been emptying of all available men for several days; soon there will be only the very young and the old left… We are evacuating Paris of all small children. Yesterday we received and placed 50 little ones aged between 2 and 5. They were accompanied by maids and teaching assistants. Volunteers (including your 2 brothers-in-law) went to pick them up at Bayeux railway station. There was a whole trainload, a thousand children, to be distributed throughout the district. Everything was done in great order; the children had their name, their destination and their address written on a metal plate around their neck. Our brave Mayor Dubois has put a lot of effort into organising beds and rooms.

As of yesterday evening, all the children were sleeping peacefully, having gone for a walk on “the beautiful sand” and seen “the great Seine”. They are all kids from the 4th Arrondissement – not rich! At their age it will be easy to console them when they miss their mothers; they will settle within 2 days. Some of them seemed delighted to be in your brothers-in-law’s cars; they took it as a bit of fun. There was even one who encouraged Jean Cordelle to go faster and overtake the car in front. We clearly recognise Le Petit Poulbot there! [Le Petit Poulbot was a young Parisian street kid – Editor]

[France declared war on Germany on 3 September 1939. At the start of the war, of course, the Germans did not occupy Normandy. Allied troops routinely landed in Normandy. There were both Allied and German ships seen off the coast – Editor]

Thursday 7 September

My darling children, I have been told that the airmail service has been discontinued, so all that remain are the surface mail boats, which come and go, we don’t know when. I have no news from you, and that pains me…

The mobilisation ended yesterday in the most peaceful manner, the men left without a single recrimination, the women held back their tears… We work and knit hard for all the little ones who are here. On Saturday your sisters helped settle 80 children evacuated from Paris. Piprel had prepared rooms and beds for them, he feeds them for a sum that does not allow him to get rich and already these little ones look better, their bursts of laughter are a pleasure to hear.

These are children from the 4th Arrondissement (Bastille) – all poor – some of them had to be taken back to Bayeux hospital… We are expecting 80 women and children tomorrow, evacuated from Vincennes. The Legallois, Pignolet, and Merlin villas have been requisitioned for them, Pignolet undertakes to feed them, the others provide accommodation. The women make do with food provided by the village, while waiting for their allowances which will be distributed at the end of the month…

Our mayor has also left, and our brave Muscadet (the horse) that Jean-Pierre was leading yesterday morning to Trévières was immediately redirected by troops to Caen. I’m sorry for this loss, but it’s nothing compared to the sacrifices made by so many mothers, by so many women!

We get little or no news from the French front; the newspapers are mercilessly censored, and we are only really aware of what the authorities want to tell us… All the villas are pretty much occupied, and lights in the evening are strictly regulated. We must not give any signal to the Boche. The fishermen of Grandcamp have taken almost all our boats; the remaining very elderly and the too young have just the little boats for fishing, helping out the families of the men who’ve left to fight. All the villas are near fully occupied, so we’ve drastically reduced the evening lights, even in the village. Our old house blends seamlessly into the darkness, as it remains completely black from nightfall. We don’t want to give any clues to the Boche (Germans). We’ve already noticed the large cargo ships along the coast.

On the food front, we’re not rationed at all. The food isn’t measured out, which allows us to satisfy our boys’ growing appetites. However, butter supplies have dwindled significantly due to the partial suspension of shipments to Paris. This is partly because trains can no longer transport civilians to the point of exhaustion.

I got a letter this morning from the Czechoslovak legation asking for my help: the secretary’s wife has been sent here with a dozen children whose fathers have enlisted to fight the Boche. Of course I will help! My garden is always beautiful, we pick pears, I will send some in a basket tomorrow to the children at the beach…

Tuesday 12 September

Our lives are moving at a snail’s pace! Despite the hardships, our fingers work tirelessly for the soldiers and the little ones. We have a large group of children at Piprel’s, whose fathers are in the armies. We also have a small colony of Czechoslovak children whose fathers are in the army, and whose mothers work in Paris. I went to see them, they are under the supervision of the chancery secretary’s wife who takes care of them and feeds them for 6 francs a day per head!! [Historically, the French franc underwent huge devaluation: in 1939, one English pound would buy 176 French francs, so 6 francs was a very small amount – Editor]  Mayor Dubois, after taking the horses and organising the arrival of the refugees, helps the baker to make bread. What a brave man. Everyone helps their neighbour as best they can… Almost all the villas are occupied by mothers, women, and children; the gendarmes have a lot to do in the evening, closing the shutters of all the lit windows. We don’t want to signal to the Boche.

Saturday 16 September

The men have left, and are replaced on our farms by the old, the women and the young. Michel is today busy harvesting at Dubois, and on Monday the three remaining boys will bring in the harvest for a small farmer whose husband is at the front… Here we harvest pears, and I was able to send good baskets of them to the little refugees and also to the little Czechs; they also go to more than one house in the village, and we knit like devils, Madame C. is a valuable help for this and maintains our supplies of woollens for the winter; we will need a lot for the soldiers and the little ones. There is no question of letting anyone be overcome by the cold… Dubois has been returned to us here, fortunately; he is at the market and at the mill helping everyone, comforting the frightened.

Wednesday 20 September

I have been told by the post office that our airmail service has been re-established. I don’t know quite when, but I am writing to you now anyway. Our letters to Paris and the rest of France are severely delayed, and for good reason: the postal services are mainly reserved for soldiers.

Tuesday 26 September

The start of the school year has been postponed until the 16th [of October], fortunately cars are not requisitioned and petrol is still available… It is also possible that the old house will be requisitioned in part for refugees, all of Alsace will be evacuated to Limousin. In the meantime we are knitting fiercely, the newspapers and the radio are demanding that all women knit while thinking of the winter which is coming and will be hard for our soldiers. And then we are going to receive 100 other evacuated children, I don’t know from where, and who will also need warm clothes… We are going to settle them with Merlin, Pignolet, etc., where they will get a warm welcome…

We lack nothing, food prices are closely monitored, and our brave gendarmes patrol our roads to watch over everything. The English convoys continue in the most beautiful order and equipped with splendid equipment to travel along our roads, greeted by our peasants, and the planes which criss-cross the sky warn us with their continued presence when a landing takes place not far from us. They watch the sea and the Boche from above… Our boys continue to help on farms where the women farmers have been left alone. Since yesterday they have been with the daughter of Baurens(?) whose mobilised husband operates the Normanville farm, helping to bring the buckwheat into the barns. They do it with the best of their hearts… I think tomorrow they will go to Ormel where Leterrier is almost alone running a 100 hectare farm.

Saturday 30 September

Our village is very lively with all the refugees and children sent to us. It is said, and it is quite possible, that many of the first group are returning home, they have not settled. The government asks in vain that we not return to Paris, where at any moment the Boche could launch a deadly offensive which would require a new evacuation…

The barracks are full of reservist soldiers who have been allowed to come and harvest the grain and the grapes, they like that better than being idle in the barracks. We also have the fishermen back from Grandcamp who left on the first day, the fishing boats are fully manned. They have returned to start fishing locally, on the understanding of course that they are at the disposal of the military authority at the first call.

It is said that a petrol rationing card will be introduced on 1st November… We only have one bus going back and forth to Bayeux and the trains are naturally reserved for soldiers… Food is still easily available here, but we must expect one day or another to review the bread, sugar, etc. The weather has cooled down nicely with the north-easterly equinox storms we have had all week; we have a fire in the small living room every evening, and I have a fire in my large bedroom.

Saturday 7 October

There is no shortage of men, the barracks and depots are full of reservists, as well as the rear front of troops, to the point that permission has been granted for harvesting… Life itself in our village is already better organised… Agricultural products sold well despite poor sales in Paris, from which part of the population was evacuated. We know something about it around here, Grandcamp is crowded with Parisians from the 4th Arrondissement and residents from Vincennes… Our English friends are not settled far away from here and their superb convoys continue to parade on our Normandy roads towards the East. All this is reassuring but saddens my heart…

Sunday 15 October

No news here, autumn is slowly approaching… We pick up the last pears. I was able to make people happy with all these fruits, not to mention all those who delighted your nephews… We have had to add a class, which is held in the Town Hall, for the children of families taking refuge in the villas. I saw a few refugees whose allocation was still pending. We can’t do anything about it. I don’t suppose that the state coffers are overflowing with reserves, and there are expenses on all sides. I help as much as I can, although I keep most for our little village…

I saw Dubois yesterday and must see Miss Huet these days; both fulfil their duties as mayor and secretary with admirable good humour. We can’t imagine the flood of paperwork with which they are overloaded, and the brave Dubois is always ready to lend a hand in threshing the grain, and in the ploughing that should be done on the farms from which the men have left.

Saturday 21 October

Piprel fulfills its task admirably, but these little ones are missing their mums and dads!… a large van brought warm clothes for them from Paris. I saw the teachers and also our mayor, the town’s budget will not allow the school canteen to open this winter. Many of those who were clients have relatives who have not left. We will help them with bread and meat vouchers; your money will be used for that. I keep it at my disposal. Allowances are paid much more sparingly than in 1914; not without reason, there were such abuses! The children always receive, but the mothers get nothing… So far none of our soldiers in the region have been reported injured or dead, apart from 2 boys from Asnières, who served as liaison officers on a motorcycle, they crashed into a tree.

Sunday 29 October

Monsieur Gambier’s son came back from guard duty this morning and found the body of a drowned man on the beach. Where did this poor soul come from? A victim of the Boche perhaps? Someone maybe from the large submarine that ran aground near Dover, they found 60 corpses in the wreck. It’s all very sad! The storm continues, and the sea throws up piles of wreckage from no one knows where.

Saturday 11 November

I don’t think the Christmas tree will happen this year… but I will be able to stock up some treats to be distributed at school at the end of the year.

Saturday 18 November

…Our little village is always peaceful, and the work gets done thanks to the dedication of the women and the elderly. Leterrier runs Ormel; his eldest son was going to take charge when he married, he is engaged. A tough task, I saw him very tired the other day.

I really want to have the telephone installed, but I fear that the Navy and our friends the English will prevent telephoning in the Channel.

Sunday 10 December

We are required to exercise caution and 4 soldiers watch night and day on the coast, they have taken up residence with Pignolet. I don’t know if I told you that a Boche couple whose villa windows shone with light every evening, in Saint-Laurent, were arrested and deported to a concentration camp. So we had to put blue paper on the lamps to screen them, I put large curtains in the kitchen and the small dining room. All week long we have been reminded of the death toll: our priest rings the bell 3 times a day and 4 days at least for each death. Father Leberruyer is dead… The Saillards’ second daughter also died, she was 19½ years old, dead from typhoid fever, she was a nurse in Bayeux.

Tuesday 19 December

The Christmas tree will be put up this year at the town hall… the 75 little ones who attend the school will delight us and rekindle our youthfulness.

1940

Tuesday 16 January

Agricultural items sell very well. At a livestock sale the smallest cow was worth 4 to 5,000F, a non-thoroughbred horse 10 to 11,000F, a lame and old mare, 28 years old, made 6,000F.

Tuesday 23 January

We have been pretty much stuck in snow since I wrote to you last week. The mail arrives when it can and leaves the same way, the buses have been stopped for 2 days. It is said that the snow is almost a metre deep on the road to Bayeux, and that hardly surprises me. We were deprived of electricity and almost forced to starve had our personal reserves not allowed us to feed our table…

The terrain was threatening down by the sea, violently shaken by a strong NE wind… It was out of the question to pull up a lettuce or a leek, and our cuttings, despite the fire burning night and day, suffered in the greenhouse: we could no longer open the door sealed by the frost… we had -9°C. In the occupied rooms, we were able to maintain a sufficient temperature thanks to the tons of wood we put in the oven, and the salamander fire that eats my anthracite. I put a wood stove in Tatou’s room…

Tuesday 30 January

Finally 2 days ago we had beautiful(!) snow, which blocked us in. I sent a note to Madame Godard who I knew was still in her hermitage in the middle of the woods. She tells me that for several days they had to eat just pasta, potatoes and onions, of which she fortunately had some reserves.

Wednesday 31 January

I have come to finish my letter early. It carries a thousand very tender wishes for my Titi [grandson], who will be getting a book that I asked the sisters in Coutances to send to me for him. Can he read? And is he interested in reading? Dear little one, already 6 years old! I see him as he was, aged 12 to 14 months, as naughty as a monkey and knowing how to make himself understood without needing to speak…

Tuesday 20 February

The old servicemen categories have been reviewed and some have been called back into action to allow others to return to their places behind. Our brave farming women really need the help of their husbands to finish the ploughing and sow for the harvests…

No news in our little village, the school canteen will definitely not be reorganised, we distribute bread to the large families and the elderly, but the former are now very largely helped by the allowances that the State distributes – not without reason – and what’s more, the fathers of families are now home…

We still have great provisioning facilities, bread (although not quite as good) is not rationed, nor sugar, nor coffee; we go 3 days a week without meat, but there is still poultry and fish.

Tuesday 5 March

The fruit trees are almost in flower and promise a good harvest. We need it, as we must not lose even a corner of the vegetable garden. You must have seen that our government is organising a ration card, which will be for meat, bread and sugar; already the butchers are closed for 3 days in a row, the delicatessens for 2 days, the patisseries for 3 days and likewise for the sale of alcohol (this is a fine state of affairs for Calvados!).

I am not so worried, for Marthe and me, with our reduced appetites, but I wonder how we will satisfy the hunger of the young people! We will have to double the dishes of noodles, rice and potatoes… Too bad if it is for France and for victory. 

I would abolish, if I could, the privilege of local distillers who provide all these people with a cheap supply of alcohol.  I had a visit from our teachers… I provide them with the wool they need to teach their daughters how to crochet and knit. The result is not that bad, and I promised at the end of the year to give a prize to the most skilful: a work bag or something. These two brave girls go out of their way for their children…

Tuesday 2 April

We get the farmers for 15 days a month, because our women cannot cope just with youngsters aged 14 to 18 as help, and the work of the land is done as it should… Between days of good weather we had a real tidal wave that arrived suddenly and left again on the day of the equinox. The sea road was inaccessible, all the gardens were flooded, that of Guignard among others where there is still 60cm of water at the bottom. Everything has to be redone as a result in a garden. The land itself is unusable.

It seems that the spectacle seen from the cliff was splendid, but when the sea calmed down, we found the road invaded by pebbles and large excavations at the defences which go up to St-Laurent.  The dike hardly suffered. Lots of work to do again. I regret less and less having the old house where it is, however we had to close the shutters on the sea side to shelter us from the wind which infiltrated everywhere…

We will have a beautiful harvest of potatoes and vegetables this year. We have to, we don’t see what the coming months have in store for us, tomorrow we will establish the supply map for all of France. This is of little importance to the old and the young who will always have enough, but I wonder how we will satisfy appetites like those of our boys… The hotels are still requisitioned, often inhabited by refugees and will not open for the summer season. Piprel serves as a refuge for around forty little Parisian kids accompanied by women and teaching assistants for whom the great outdoors has done the greatest good.

Tuesday 23 April

I also had a visit from the teachers who send you their regards. We are getting ready in the town hall for the ration cards which we will receive in June.

Tuesday 30 April

Nothing new in our village where work in the fields is courageously done by women and very young people. Our boys will have plenty to do during the holidays. My hay looks superb, even in the “Pompon” field now that it is no longer being trampled by horses.

Tuesday 14 May

My darling children – Before starting to write to you, I turned on my radio which for several days has been giving us the operations bulletin every hour. We are so distressed by the news from the East and the North; we think a lot about those who are fighting there… All our leavers have left, leaving courageous women in tears. Since yesterday evening we have seen the arrival of small refugees from the North and even from Paris who are being installed in the houses already requisitioned.

The Sub-Prefect warned Dubois that we will probably be sent a hundred other refugees (families) and we will be finding out where to put them. Need I tell you that I offered everything I have available in the old house…

Yesterday when I wanted to call Trévières, I was interrupted by the “phone interrupted, alert” office, probably in Cherbourg. Our great port must be under surveillance by these… pigs. The radio this morning tells us that Holland has given up… We should not have expected a heroic defence from a poorly armed and half-Boche country, but it is still regrettable for us, the little resistance they provided supported the heroic Belgian soldiers and ours who it seems fight like lions.

Yesterday evening I saw the brave Maillet and Laronche who were leaving again… they were cheerful! I learned yesterday with surprise that the Queen Mother of Belgium has taken refuge not far from here with her 3 grandchildren in a small castle between Mosles and Bayeux; the villas of St-Laurent were rented to people from the Court arriving with a few trunks. The cars are starting to pass by again loaded with suitcases, we even see entire coaches coming from Paris or further afield. Unfortunately the war continues!

Tuesday 21 May

For 2 days, a parade of cars has continued on our roads, transporting people who are fleeing. Yesterday evening I gave shelter to one of them whose car had broken down on the road to Grandcamp. They were arriving from the North, from Avesnes, the poor people and this gentleman’s succinct account gave a very terrible idea of what was happening there. Naturally the whole village is full everywhere, and I have made the old house available to those who need it. The postal service is working very poorly, and letters from the Front are not arriving. From all sides I hear complaints of anxious parents. Poor Jeanne and Léon have not heard from Georges for almost 15 days; it is the same for everyone, and this is what gives hope to the unfortunate, worried parents.

Wednesday 22 May

Our village is full of refugees, especially people from the North, almost all of whom have been able to rent houses, empty or furnished villas. It is quite obvious that those who arrived in this way still had some means in their pockets; the most to be pitied are the workers, the peasants evacuated by trains who often had to walk long distances, the parade of these unfortunate people repeated what we saw in 1914.

I saw our mayor again who spends his time running, he bought (on orders from the prefecture) bedding, household utensils, dishes, tables and chairs which are distributed. I am sorry my health does not allow me to be more active and help all these families get settled. There are many children that our brave teachers have taken in: I don’t know where they put them all!

At 4:15 p.m. all the children go to church accompanied by the good Mother Campserveux who helps them say a rosary for France. When I think about it I can’t even go that far anymore. I’m doing better, but walking is very tiring for me and the Doctor has naturally advised me not to do too much. Since yesterday, numerous planes have been crisscrossing the sea – I wonder why?

Tuesday 4 June

The first French convoy arrived Sunday evening via Cherbourg, repatriating our exhausted soldiers. On a train calling at Bayeux, one of them was able to inform his wife who lives in St-Laurent that he was safe. The whole army is headed to Le Mans. It’s the first in our little corner, let’s hope there will be others. The northern regiments were made up of many Bretons and Normans. The poor Leterriers have had no news of their son for 24 days, the same goes for the Saillards for their eldest, a brave and strong guy, he’s engaged!

We are making precautions for a Boche advance. I have to accommodate 3 senior officers and 40 soldiers. The restrictions are going well: 750g of sugar per month; meat 4 days a week, 30 litres of petrol per car per month; oil increasingly rare, 50kg of coal per month for 3 people… I really don’t know how we’re going to get by this summer when we’ll be feeding 12 people, and winter scares me. Fortunately there is no shortage of wood in the woodshed. We have a civic guard made up of all able-bodied men (Léon is one of them!) who stand guard every night on our little roads. We fear what happened in Belgium, a silent invasion of this famous 5th army ready to help the Boche when necessary. It’s no longer a war, it’s a (????) [rabble?] of bandits. Our men have orders to shoot if necessary, they each have a rifle and 5 cartridges. Our two boys have signed up to take care as soon as they get here, they will also help on the farms.

We had communion on Sunday, a sad communion from which most of the dads and older brothers were absent. There were tears in many eyes. A young abbot who escaped from the North now lives in the presbytery and helps the priest of St-Laurent who had great difficulty maintaining his 5 parishes. We could hear the cannonade very clearly in the NE wind all day Saturday (1 June, bombings on Le Havre or Rouen??) and we were woken up last night by 3 loud detonations which made our windows shake, no doubt some Boche plane dropping its bombs on one of our boats. All the boats from Grandcamp and Port left secretly one night for Cherbourg where they formed an imposing convoy which departed for Dunkirk and Calais and helped in the rescue of our army.

Wednesday 5 June

Our bells only ring in the event of an alert.

Monday 24 June

Our beautiful and dear country has been invaded by troops in verdigris [German troops], all motorized. We saw them appear here on Wednesday (19 June). I will not tell you everything that happened, just know that we are at peace for the moment here, but a horrible capitulation which filled us with astonishment and sorrow has taken place; signed by one of our greatest and purest soldiers! Is it possible? We can’t believe it! France defeated in so many days, an armistice signed at Compiègne; we have failed to keep our word given to our allies! This is something that not all French hearts can console themselves for. We have no news, the postal service no longer works, neither do the trains, even the radio, apart from the English, has no longer informed us since the Verdigris took Rennes…

We are still waiting for the conditions which will undoubtedly be draconian to sign the peace. Until now the Verdigris who occupy all our villas have not tried anything, the de Ms, the de Brunvilles are here, and also the de Bughas, the Leterriers, Guillemette is dying of fear in her big house where she lives with just one old maid. I suggested she come to my house, but she prefers the house not to remain unoccupied. Besides, everything is going well so far.

I had to provide a little bit of land to the small detachment which occupies the Casino; and I locked the gates to prevent anyone from entering my house. They say that near Colombières there was some damage; I saw ambulances going towards Grandcamp.

Saturday 6 July

We have no contact with the outside world. Our small town is occupied by a large, organised force. All the villas are inhabited, all empty of their owners; without hesitation, they forced the doors. I did not hear that the cupboards had been looted, the slightest theft is punishable by death, they say. So I am still on guard at the door of our old house which would have suffered the fate of those which are empty, they were filled with soldiers straight away, and it must be said that it was quickly damaged by all this soldiery. G. de P. (Mlle de Pierres, in Gruchy) has 45 at her house, and her avenue is lined with large trucks that they probably want to hide from English planes. We hardly see any of these, but our sky is crisscrossed with others, which we estimate at more than a hundred. Petrol has completely disappeared, we are returning to carts, but horses are rare and for good reason! The supply is going fairly well and the markets have been restored. Transport is by horse-drawn carriage… for us, because I see others who travel our roads in superb cars… All public coffers are empty, and civil servants are not paid. Where are we going? What misery there will be.

Monday 15 July

Just think what a horrible debacle this has been for me, for everyone, three-quarters of our France invaded and the Verdigris established as masters here, like everywhere! They come out like locusts. We have no reason to complain about their presence here, a Staff Major is in the villas, and until now I have been able to keep the old house empty. I don’t know if I will be able to keep it. I am writing again to you what I have already written to you several times: I have had courteous relations with my [German] neighbours, but it is not without huge heartbreak that we comply with their laws… We know almost nothing, the radio is German and we are forbidden to use English. My heart is broken and I feel very alone in this large house which, without my presence, would have long been occupied from the cellar to the attic, and without doubt more or less pillaged. All the empty houses were forced open and occupied, but I must say many did not suffer greatly from this intrusion. The officers exercise restraint, fortunately.

Friday 19 August

So there was an invasion and at such speed! All the green-grey troops, well armed, and all motorized. Even our little village is invaded; and it bothered me not to leave the old house which until now I have preserved from unwanted guests. All the beach villas are inhabited by a Staff Major, officers and men. So far it’s been courteous. Dubois (the mayor), who speaks a little German, is up to his task and fiercely defends his fellow citizens.

Monday 22 August

We are still cut off from the rest of the world by order of our victors who have a harsh grip. I haven’t moved from here and as a result the old house is still intact, occupied it is true by officers whose courtesy is sufficient. They live on the second floor and take their meals in their mess hall at Than Manor [see photos below from Yves Cordelle’s collection]. The village is busy, there are soldiers in all the houses; but without much looting. We are beginning to feel the restrictions, because we have to feed several million victors in France and many provisions pass to Germany. Ours is a sad fate; we have not yet recovered from this humiliation!