Brave Genius Page 10

  Some ministers believed that Britain would soon be defeated and that there was no point to joining a doomed partner. Reynaud was shattered. He would later recall the moment as “the greatest disappointment of my life.” The discussion turned back to an armistice.

  Exhausted and despondent, Reynaud feared that the cabinet would force him to call for an armistice. Resolute that he could not do so, Reynaud tendered his resignation, telling President Albert Lebrun that if he wanted to follow such a policy, he should “go and ask Marshal Pétain!” Reynaud added, “I’m told he has his cabinet list in his pocket.”

  Lebrun, who was also opposed to the armistice, tried to talk Reynaud out of resigning. Failing to do so, and under the impression that the majority of the cabinet favored an armistice, Lebrun asked Pétain to form a government. The marshal promptly opened his briefcase and produced a list. “There is my government,” he told Lebrun.

  Usually, it took three or four days for a new premier to assemble a cabinet. The ready-made list indicated that Pétain and his supporters had been plotting a new regime for some time. The new cabinet included many who had pressed for an armistice and excluded those who had vowed to continue the war. Weygand was named minister of national defense. Mandel and de Gaulle were out.

  Within two hours, just after midnight on June 17, the cabinet met. They agreed unanimously to ask the German government for the conditions of an armistice. The inquiry was submitted through a Spanish intermediary.

  Before there was any reply from the Germans, Marshal Pétain addressed the nation by radio at 12:30 p.m. on the seventeenth:

  Frenchmen! On the appeal of the President of the Republic, I have assumed today the direction of the Government of France.

  I am, in heart and thoughts, with our admirable army who, with every heroism and without precedent, have continued a glorious military tradition against an enemy superior in numbers and in arms, our army which has known, by its magnificent resistance, how to fulfill its duty toward our Allies.

  Certain of the help of the ex-Service men whom I have the honour to command, and assured of the confidence of the whole people, I give myself to France to help her in her hour of misfortune.

  In these painful hours I am thinking of our unfortunate refugees, and all their extreme distress. I express to them my compassion and my solicitude.

  It is with a heavy heart I say we must cease the fight. I have applied to our opponent to ask him if he is ready to sign with us, as between soldiers after the fight and in honour, a means to put an end to hostilities.

  Let all Frenchmen group themselves around the Government over which I preside during this painful trial, and affirm once more their faith in the destiny of our country.

  FRANÇOIS JACOB AND his friends had stopped for lunch at a little inn in a village in the Auvergne. From an open window, they heard the “quavery voice” of Marshal Pétain. As they took off again for the coast, the conversation in the car was animated. Jacob’s best friend, Roger Dreyfus, took the lead by snarling about Pétain, the military’s failures, and the incompetent government. He cursed “the traitors, the crooks, the dirty bastards of every stripe” who had led the country to ruin. Then he rallied his mates, saying, “Even so, we’re not going to let ourselves be had. We’re not going to wait here for the SS to arrive so we can smile prettily for them. When they are here, that will be the end. That doddering old fart Pétain won’t keep them from doing what they want. You don’t talk it over with the Nazis. You bash their faces in. There’s only one thing to do: go on with the fight. And to fight, you have to get out of France. Go where you can.”

  Jacob agreed. Having been raised in a military family, in which not just his illustrious grandfather but his father and uncles all served, Jacob decided that it was his turn. “We are not going to shrink before a threat worse than any ever seen,” he told his companions. “You don’t negotiate with a Hitler. Either you destroy him or he’ll destroy you. I, too, am for getting out of France, for fighting wherever we can.”

  Before taking that leap, before leaving France, Jacob wanted the approval of his family. When the car reached Arcachon, on the Atlantic coast west of Bordeaux, he sought out his uncle Henri, who had arrived there two days earlier. Amid the chaos and anxiety, the sight of his uncle was a great comfort.

  They walked on the beach after dark. Uncle Henri was also the personal physician of three-time prime minister and current president of the Chamber of Deputies, Édouard Herriot, who was in Bordeaux with the government. Uncle Henri knew all about the intrigues among the political and military leaders wrestling over France’s fate.

  He told François about the struggle over whether to continue the war, then turned and said, “If you can, go to England rather than Africa.”

  AU REVOIR, LA FRANCE

  Jacob and his comrades were among many thousands facing the decision of whether to remain in France or, if they wanted to leave, how to get out and where to go.

  Charles de Gaulle had already made his decision. When the government changed, he knew that surrender was imminent, which he could not accept. Fearing interference or arrest by Weygand, he slipped out of Bordeaux on the morning of June 17 and flew in a British plane to an airport outside London. He arrived just as Pétain was asking for the fighting to stop.

  De Gaulle went to see Churchill for permission to use the radio to address the French people. The next day, from the BBC Broadcasting House, he spoke as though he were “concentrating all his power in one single moment.” In a loud, commanding voice he declared:

  The leaders who, for many years past, have been at the head of the French armed forces, have set up a government.

  Alleging the defeat of our armies, this government has entered into negotiations with the enemy with a view to bringing about a cessation of hostilities. It is quite true that we were, and still are, overwhelmed by enemy mechanized forces, both on the ground and in the air …

  But has the last word been said? Must we abandon all hope? Is our defeat final and irremediable? To those questions, I answer—No!

  Speaking in full knowledge of the facts, I ask you to believe me when I say that the cause of France is not lost. The very factors that brought about our defeat may one day lead us to victory.

  For, remember this, France does not stand alone. She is not isolated! Behind her is a vast Empire, and she can make common cause with the British Empire, which commands the sea and is continuing the struggle. Like England, she can draw unreservedly on the immense industrial resources of the United States.

  This war is not limited to our unfortunate country. The outcome has not been decided by the Battle of France. This war is a world war. Mistakes have been made, there have been delays and untold suffering, but the fact remains that there still exists in the world everything we need to crush our enemies one day … The destiny of the world is at stake.

  I, General de Gaulle, now in London, call on all French officers and men who are at present on British soil, or may be in the future, with or without their arms … to get in touch with me.

  Whatever happens, the flame of the French resistance must not and shall not die.

  With the electricity out across much of France and so many refugees on the roads, few people actually heard the original speech. But de Gaulle’s appeal was reproduced in some newspapers and spread by word of mouth.

  Camus did not hear de Gaulle. He was bogged down on the road to Bordeaux among the refugees and retreating soldiers. When the Germans approached Clermont-Ferrand, Jean Prouvost issued the order for the Paris-Soir staff to move once again and follow the government to Bordeaux. When Camus finally reached the town, he thought of leaving to go fight abroad. But he missed the last boat from Bordeaux and was stuck.

  MANY PARISIANS OR other citizens from the north who had family in the west or south of the country had retreated to relatives’ homes to escape the battle. They suddenly had to decide whether to flee the country altogether. It was an agonizing decision. Since most families had a
t least one member in the military whose fate (prisoner, casualty, or refugee) was typically unknown, leaving meant risking being cut off completely from loved ones. Odette was in that dilemma.

  While Jacques was garrisoned in Versailles and then evacuated to Périgueux, Odette and the twin boys had in fact remained in Dinard, along with Odette’s mother, her three sisters, and their children. But on June 17, as the Germans were advancing and the people were fleeing in front of them, the whole family planned to make their way south to Biarritz, on the coast just eleven miles from the Spanish border. As Odette and her sisters—Suzanne, Madeleine, and Lise—packed suitcases for the car trip, Odette’s mother watched over the twins. For some reason, Grandmother Bruhl was holding a tube of the sleeping tablet Gardenal and left it next to Olivier when she left the room. The ten-month-old opened the tube and swallowed the tablets. Panic ensued as the sisters went to find a doctor amid the chaos of all of the refugees in Dinard. Once the doctor was located, it took most of the afternoon for Olivier to be treated. The family abandoned packing and the trip. The next day, as the sound of artillery drew near, Suzanne, Madeleine, and their children went to Saint-Malo, succeeded in getting space on a military tug and on a cargo ship, and made it to England. Odette and the twins stayed in Dinard with her mother and Lise.

  WITH GERMAN ARMORED columns approaching quickly, Jacob and Dreyfus decided to find a boat leaving as soon as possible; the other two passengers in the Citroën got cold feet and elected to stay in France. Jacob and Dreyfus first asked around Bordeaux. No luck. Then in Bayonne, they found a note on the British consulate door stating: “For all military inquiries concerning the French, apply to Saint-Jean-de-Luz.” They headed to the small resort town just a few miles north of the Spanish border.

  The evacuation in progress was dubbed Operation Aerial. Like Dunkirk, it was a British operation to get soldiers out of the reach of the Germans. British warships provided cover while several troop ships, including the Polish liners the SS Batory and SS Sobieski, were loaded. Two Polish divisions had participated in the defense of France. Their commander in chief and leader of the government in exile, Gen. Władysław Sikorski, refused to capitulate to the Germans. Churchill pledged to evacuate all of the Polish troops that could be loaded.

  Jacob and Dreyfus wandered around Saint-Jean-de-Luz looking for passage. A cavalry lieutenant in a blue képi told them to come to the port around five o’clock. The official fighting was supposed to be over, so the officer added, “Don’t make yourselves too conspicuous before then.”

  When they returned, fishing boats were ferrying the last of the Polish troops to the large ships. The French police had formed a line to prevent French civilians from boarding the boats. In front of Jacob, a civilian tried to pass. When a policeman stopped him, he pretended not to understand French and blurted out, “Swastika,” the most Polish-sounding word he could think of. The policeman let him pass. Jacob and Dreyfus took advantage of the distraction to slip past and sneak aboard the small boat that shuttled them out.

  Soon they were aboard the SS Batory. No one was sure whether the ship was going to England or North Africa. The man who had bluffed his way on board turned to Jacob and asked, “Ever hear of de Gaulle? He’s a general, I heard him on the radio. He said he is going on with the war, in England. He said that, sooner or later, we will beat them.”

  Revenge. That was the one motivation that would have to sustain Jacob in the uncertain days ahead—that and the hope of someday, sooner or later, returning to France. As his ship left for England on June 21 under the cover of darkness, it was impossible to guess when, or if, he would see France again.

  DIVIDED

  Many members of the government were torn over whether to remain or to go abroad, and were running out of time to decide. With the terms of the armistice unknown, and likely to be severe and perhaps unacceptable, the presidents of the Senate, the Chamber of Deputies, and the Republic urged Pétain to accept a division of the government. On June 18, Pétain agreed to a plan in which he would remain in France with several ministers while President Lebrun, the heads of Parliament, and those members of Parliament who wished to would go to North Africa. The cabinet concurred, and plans were set in motion to depart on June 19 and 20.

  De Gaulle took to the airwaves again on the BBC on the nineteenth, reiterating his call to resistance:

  It is the bounden duty of all Frenchmen who still bear arms to continue the struggle. For them to lay down their arms, to evacuate any position of military importance, or agree to hand over any part of French territory, however small, to enemy control, would be a crime against our country. For the moment I refer particularly to French North Africa—to the integrity of French North Africa …

  Soldiers of France, wherever you may be, arise!

  Weygand and Laval tried to block the departures to North Africa. On June 21, Laval told President Lebrun, “You will not leave, you must not leave … When it is known that you chose as the hour of departure the very hour in which our country was sunk in the greatest distress, there will be but one word on every lip: desertion … Perhaps an even graver word: treason.” Despite the plan agreed to days earlier, Pétain then declared that if Lebrun insisted on leaving, he would have him arrested.

  That same day, the Massilia sailed for North Africa with twenty-seven members of Parliament. That evening, the French armistice delegation was led to the Forest of Compiègne, the site of the 1918 armistice that the victorious Allies had imposed on a defeated Germany. The Germans had even retrieved from a museum the very railroad car in which the 1918 terms were signed. Hitler appeared briefly the next morning to savor his triumph.

  The French delegation was instructed to break off negotiations if Germany demanded the French naval fleet, any overseas territory, or occupation of all of France. The twenty-four terms were severe but came up short of these three breakpoints. The fleet was a complex and sensitive issue. France had promised Britain and the United States that its navy would not fall into German hands. The French had to finesse an agreement by which the fleet would be partially demobilized and disarmed under German supervision, and trust in a promise that the Germans did not “intend” to use the fleet for their own purposes. Churchill would say of the German promise, “What is the value of that? Ask half a dozen countries.”

  Three-fifths of France, including the Atlantic coast, Paris, and the north were to be occupied, while the south and southeast (the zone libre) were to be administered by a French government. Another article forbade French nationals from fighting against Germany for other states. Those who did would be treated as francs-tireurs (guerrilla fighters) and shot upon capture—a sober warning to those in Britain or North Africa who wanted to continue fighting. There was nothing to be negotiated. France signed the terms on June 22.

  Once de Gaulle learned of the terms of the armistice, he took to the airwaves again:

  The French government, after having asked for an armistice, now knows the conditions dictated by the enemy.

  The result of these conditions would be the complete demobilisation of the French land, sea, and air forces, the surrender of our weapons and the total occupation of French territory.

  It may therefore be said that this armistice would not only be a capitulation, but that it would also reduce the country to slavery …

  I call upon all Frenchmen who want to remain free to listen to my voice and follow me.

  Churchill added his own condemnation, stating that his government did not feel “that such, or similar terms, could have been submitted to by any French government which possessed freedom, independence, and constitutional authority.” He continued: “A British victory is the only hope for the restoration of the greatness of France and the freedom of her people.” Churchill then added a call to “all Frenchmen, wherever they may be, to aid to the utmost of their strength the forces of liberation.”

  Pétain was outraged and broadcast a reproach to Churchill: “The French government and people heard the statement o
f Mr. Churchill yesterday with grief and amazement … The French can but protest the lessons given by a foreign minister … The French will be saved by their own efforts, Mr. Churchill should know this … He should know that the French are showing more grandeur by admitting defeat than in trying to avoid it by vain and illusory efforts.”

  The new regime also stepped up pressure on its opponents. General Weygand ordered de Gaulle to return home to his post, stripped him of his rank, and initiated his court-martial. De Gaulle was not intimidated. He continued with his radio broadcasts from London. On June 26, in reply to a broadcast by Pétain in which the marshal claimed that the French government “is still free,” de Gaulle directly addressed his former commander:

  M. le Maréchal, in these hours of shame and anger for la patrie, one voice must answer you. This evening that voice will be mine …

  You were led to believe, M. le Maréchal, that this Armistice, sought from soldiers by a great soldier such as yourself, would be honorable for France. I think you now know where you stand. This Armistice is dishonorable. Two-thirds of our territory handed over to the occupation of the enemy—and what an enemy!—our whole Army completely demobilised, our officers and soldiers, who are now prisoners, kept in captivity. Our Navy, our aircraft, our tanks, our armies are to be handed over intact, so that the enemy may use them against our own Allies. Our country, our Government, you yourself reduced to servitude. Ah! In order to obtain and accept such an act of enslavement there was no need for you, M. le Maréchal, there was no need for the victor of Verdun—anyone would have done.

  FRANCE HAD FALLEN from confident to conquered in just six weeks. But France, or what remained of her, was not merely defeated but divided. She was divided spiritually between the minority who wanted to continue the fight, and those who accepted defeat. She was divided and estranged from her former close ally, not only unable to receive Britain’s aid but perhaps about to contribute to its downfall. She was divided physically, with part of the population forced to live under occupation by their conquerors, and the remainder to live under a separate government. And she was divided between leaders: one, an elderly hero who thought that the war was over, that Britain would soon be defeated, and that a new Fascist-dominated European order would be established; the other, a rogue general in exile who thought that the war had just begun and would never be over until France and liberty had been restored.