Nancy Powell's French correspondence

from Odette (Chrétien) My dear Nancy, Your letter of the 15th arrived yesterday and it is always a great pleasure to hear from you and have you in my thoughts. I didn’t reply to your letter of 15th February, which didn’t arrive until 1st March. Winter has left us exhausted. But don’t worry, we didn’t suffer too much ourselves from the terrible, cold spell, thanks to the fact that we had electricity. By good fortune, we didn’t have any power cuts in our district. So we were able to manage with 10-12degrees, which was a luxury for us. Most people experienced 5 degrees or zero temperatures and I have friends who worked with minus two. That was very hard for the older men. It is feared that, next winter, fuel will be in very short supply and we are being left in no illusion about that. François has had ear-ache and then tracheitis. Fortunately he is in good hands. He will be operated on at the end of May. That will sort out that nasty throat. Apart from that he is getting on well, except for refusing most of the food he’s given. He eats masses of potatoes and noodles!! We waited the whole winter for a lemon which arrived rotten and a few phantom bananas which never materialized. The poor dears are not spoilt. Also, actually, American chocolate brings a smile to their faces, eaten slowly and a little at a time. You forget all that, when you hear of those who have suffered years of imprisonment or been deported. Everything you hear about is so awful. Mrs Holman is going to see her son released, the poor woman. Your grandmother’s death must have created a big gap. At least, your mother will have had the compensation of living near her in her last years. I hope that your father will get over his distressing health problems. Fortunately, he’s a fighter. Now you are rid of all those threats of German invasion. What a relief it is to see the end of this nightmare.We were very upset by Roosevelt who died just before the final victory. What amazing energy that man had. The celebrations of the Liberation in Paris were very thrilling. In the evening the Arc de Triomphe was beautifully illuminated and had all the flags flying at the foot of it. The reinstallation of the flags in the Place de la Concorde was also a magnificent sight. Did you see that in the cinema or did you hear it on the wireless? In March, I went to Nogent just for a few hours and I didn’t have time to see Mrs Daupeley or to go on up to your house. I am amazed that your house was damaged. In rue St Hilaire there were just a few roof tiles broken. The station and its surroundings suffered a lot, especially the part of the suburbs I didn’t see….and the rue St Lazare. Poor Nogent, it seems a big empty place to me now that I have no family there and we’re not there any more. I am ashamed that you haven’t been able to get your visa yet. Is it in three weeks or three months that you can apply again? You don’t say. I want it to be as soon as possible, so that we’re not away on holiday at the time. Keep us abreast and let us know as soon as you have any news. The end of the war will sort everything out again. We were following the overwhelming victory of the Allies with the greatest of excitement. May peace soon be with us. I am touched by your offer to send clothes, because that will put you to a lot of trouble. It’s really kind of you to want to fit us up, because we cannot cope with the black market prices. I am making you a list of what we are likely to be interested in. All insofar as you are able to help, because you will have many other friends to help, apart from us. It’s my husband who’s in the greatest need…A suit costs between 12,000 and 18,000 fr here. What a scourge this black market is for France …that some are growing too fat on it and ordinary budgets are very limited. Enclosed are a few photos that may amuse you a bit. I was in a hurry some of the three of them. We took some really excellent ones of them. I can send you some good reels of film. Give me the details of the size of your camera. 8.5-11. We think of you often.  My husband sends his best wishes. All my love to your parents – all my love to you. François sent big kisses to you all (three of them!) Odette No news of Simone. Jeanine has had some contact. Dr R…has come to Paris twice to find something, but without success. I have found out how we can settle our various debts to each other. You have to go through the foreign exchange office, which is fairly complicated. One of my husband’s clients, who is a correspondent in London, we can send funds to you through him. Not knowing what prices are like with you, but once we know roughly what is needed, we can send you an approximate sum as a first payment, so that you can have something on account. I’ve been told you can’t send money orders (only soldiers can do that) and no parcels either. So sorry about the rolls of film. Children’s clothes (for a five-year-old) One really rainproof cape, with a hood. Gey, beige or blue. Length 60cm One winter coat, woollen material. Blue or grey. Length 60 cm 30 cm across the shoulders. Children’s shoes 1 pair of leather sandals, size 25 or 17 cm long. 1 pair of shoes, size 26, if possible with hard-wearing soles for the winter, brown or black or, barring this, snow boots in good condition, size 26 or 18cm long. Men’s clothes. 1 winter coat, datk grey, 1m20 long, 44 cm across the shoulders. 1 dark blue, or gey, winter suit. Trousers 80 cm long, waist 78 cm, jacket 40 cm across the shoulders. 1 grey flannel suit for summer wear. Men’s shoes. 1 pair of black shoes, heavy leather or rubber soles, size 41 or 42. If possible… 1 pair of leather sandals Ladies’ shoes. 1 pair of shoes, mahogany or brown, size 37 – 24.5cm long – low heels, leather or rubber soles.

from Yvone (sic) Bagland My dear Nancy, I received your letter by today’s delivery and I am replying straight away, because I really need some shoes, for me and the children, because for a long time we haven’t been able to get anything any good at all. Everything wears out in a few months. If there’s any choice, could you make sure you get something strong and comfortable, but in anticipation, anything you send will be absolutely fine, because we’re really not very happy and I am often quite worried about things. Christian is growing a lot and most of the time we have no meat or butter and very often I get depressed, I can tell you, and I wonder what repercussions these five years of privation will have on our children. It seems ages since the time I had heard nothing of you. I often think of you all, and your Daddy who had no luck at all. Mummy is comfortable and well, but we haven’t had much luck either. In Nogent, people are saying that you will be coming back soon. I am excited at the very idea of it. And, by the way, you needn’t start looking for somewhere to stay, as you are most welcome to stay here. Five or six portions, it makes no difference at all. We have enough potatoes, and Maurice is using Mrs Pelletier’s garden in avenue de la République. We are pleased about that, as we shall be able to have vegetables without having to queue for hours. You know, there’s something there that does not quite add up – is it the work of some kind of fifth column !! I just don’t know. I believe I am expecting Germaine Petit soon, which I am very pleased about, as I haven’t seen her for 13 years. Stanley Holman has returned home – what a great joy that must be for his mother and his brothers !! The prisoners-of-war are returning gradually. I am going to the reception centre for a few days. Well, I’ll stop now, my dear Nancy, with hugs and kisses from me and very best wishes to your parents. Yvone (sic)  Christian’s shoe size (measured with socks on) – 35-36 I am a good 37 Jean-Pierre’s size (measured with socks on) – 31

From Marie (Béhaegel) Dear Miss Nancy I was surprised and saddened to hear of Mrs Moody’s death (Elizabeth Moody, Nancy’s maternal grandmother) so soon after her celebrating her hundredth birthday, because, despite her age, as you say, you imagined that she would always be with you. I note that Mr and Mrs Powell’s health has not always been brilliant either during these terrible war-time years and everyone’s low moral has also influenced matters. You don’t mention Nogent – you have perhaps lost everything you had there, may I ask? You have also had your trials and tribulations, alas! We have also had some very, very serious news, my Paul has just been taken prisoner in La Rochelle. I had only just been so very happy to see him again, when he came home for a week’s leave at long last. He had been promoted sergeant on January 1st. He had been back for two or three days, when the Boches launched a big attack and managed to take 300 prisoners and my poor Paul was amongst them. He actually had a marvellous escape, because a lot of them were killed and the Germans lost even more, because they asked for a truce to pick up their dead. All that happened on 1st March. And I received a card from Paul sent on the 3rd and a letter sent on the 6thMarch, which he managed to get through to me. He is not complaining as they are being treated well, it seems, but they’re not getting much to eat and, unfortunately, I can’t send him anything, though I tried all ways of doing so. He had gone off with your address and was thinking of writing to you, but dear, oh dear, what a to-do. Fortunately, we live in hopes that the end of this accursed war is in view. I went to see Miss D…, who is in good health, but her legs don’t want to walk any more, as she says, and she gave me a whole lot of things for you all. I think the poor old lady thought that I was going to see you. She is ninety-one. My husband has still not gone back to work yet, but he is getting better. I am very much the same and they are now giving me a second lot of injections, but that doesn’t stop me carrying a lot of weight, as you will see from the photos I am sending you with this letter – the ones we took when Paul was home on leave. It is not a very clear picture, but even so it does look like me. All the best to Mr and Mrs Powell and to you, Miss Nancy,  my fondest wishes. Marie

from M(arie). Pierre My dear little Nancy, I was so very pleased to hear from you at last after these five long, dreadful years. I had heard in 1940 that, at that awful, unforgettable, time of the mass exodus, you were able to get back to England, but no-one could say for certain. And very, very often, my family and I anxiously wondered what had become of you. We all left for the Lot-et-Garonne [south of Bordeaux] to stay at my brother’s and we stayed there from 16th June until the beginning of September. When I got back home, I was horrified and surprised to find the house full of Germans. The neighbours said that 30-35 of them had been there on a daily basis, installed in my property with their field kitchen, burning my furniture to create heat. Everything had been ransacked, broken and soiled in an indescribable way. For more than a month I had to stay with friends. Faced with so much damage, which cost me 60-80,000fr at present prices, I thought that I would never recover from the great psychological and physical shock I received. Since then, I have been ill all the time, constantly suffering from blood pressure. I have just gone through a very bad time, ending with, or rather continuing with, the flu’ and that’s why I have taken so long to reply to you. What’s more, this letter I started on 4th March was interrupted by the flu’. It’s now Sunday 18th March and I am feeling a little better today and am starting writing again in order to finish it. First of all, may I send you my most sincere condolences for your grand-mother’s death and please convey them on my behalf particularly to Mrs Powell, who has certainly had the great sorrow at the loss of her dear Mummy. You must, in any case, all have been proud to have in your midst a hundred-year-old lady who had been so well preserved. What a shame she left this life before the final victory of our dear allies!!! I hope that this accursed war will soon be at an end and that you will soon be entitled to come to France. If my house was dreadfully ransacked, yours must have been even worse!!! I wonder what state it is in! I very much fear that you will not find much left there. My sisters, who had hidden some fine linen and different things on my property, have unfortunately lost everything. They would have been better leaving everything in Paris, where not a thing has been touched. Miss Mar used to own a fairly large house in Bar-sur-Seine [Aube department, in NE France]. This house was completely destroyed in 1940 by German bombing. She is still living in le Perreux with my older sister. You would think that bad luck is following them around, because the villa where they live was burgled in the winter, when they came here to Nogent. All their linen was taken, plus dresses, shoes, paintings and precious objects, a large amount of cash and a whole lot of other things. The police have not been able to trace the thieves, and the two friends themselves are totally depressed to have lost so much, at a time when you can’t find anything in the shops and the little there is fetches incredible prices that you can do nothing about. They had come here for the wedding of our nephew, Jean P…, the ceremony took place on 14th October in St Hilaire’s Church. He married a very nice girl who lived on the bridge – in the house where D… used to live. They are a family of manufacturers from the Nord department and they came seeking shelter here, because the pretty property they lived in had been completely razed to the ground, when they were bombed out. The young couple live in Paris, to the delight of my sister and her husband. All my brothers and sisters came to the wedding – all of us are ageing well here. You will find us much changed, when you come to see us, my little Nancy. My sister (married name Baron) is extremely thin. Her beloved son, Michel, is a tall, good-looking, young man doing medicine. He volunteered as an army doctor which was a great sadness to his mother. Genevieve is still unmarried. Odette Médard had three children – she lost the youngest last summer, he died of convulsions. He was a good-looking two-year-old. Simone got married after the great exodus of 1940. She has a little girl aged two. Her first – a boy – died at fourteen days. My poor sister, Odette Médard has a big problem with one hip and she can hardly walk at all any more. She is in a lot of pain. That’s news of everyone, then. My family joins me in wishing for improved health for Mr and Mrs Powell. Much love and kisses from us to you. M. Pierre  PS See you soon, I hope. It’ll be wonderful to see you again.

from T. Fournier (postcard) Delighted to hear from you (card arrived yesterday). Several times, very discreetly, we have tried to find out whether you reached England. The last we heard of you was that you were just past Le Mans on your way to a port on the coast. Bravo, all three of you escaped the dreadful concentration camp, where the least of our worries was being under house arrest. We sincerely hope that Mr and Mrs Powell have been able to overcome any serious misfortunes. But life in England was in every way preferable to what we experienced. Four years under the jackboot, that’s the problem. It’s all about living in freedom. I was a great sadness for us to hear that your house had been ransacked and that the Boches were occupying it and masters of all they surveyed, all the more because it was your house and, above all, after the defeats in August and September 1940. Let us possess our souls in patience for a few months more and the Boches will get their desserts. But we mustn’t repeat the mistakes made after the 1914-18 war. We have all survived the agony unscathed. In Nogent, the Thursday of the week after you left, bombs damaged my parents’ house. It’s very lucky for them that they were away. And on 24th July 1944, four days after Jean-Pierre was born, we ourselves were nearly killed by two bombs dropped during an aerial battle over our heads. We were living in a property just outside Courville in the Chartres direction. The Boches evicted us from the establishment on 21st October 1944 – we were given 36 hours to leave. Fortunately they didn’t insist on having our furniture. After being moved on four times during the year, we are now installed back home again. We shall be delighted to see you again and hear how you managed to escape. Your dear grand-mother died knowing that your armies were triumphant. And that was a real satisfaction for her. Ginette and Janine, who often come to the house, asked if we hadn’t had any news of you. They jumped for joy when they read your card. Hoping to see you again soon. Very best wishes  T. Fournier

from Miss Schereck Dear Nancy Mrs Holman has given us news of you and passed on to us your best regards, which we were pleased to receive. We have thought of you many times during these long years, of you and of all our friends from England, whom we have also heard from. Nogent will be happy to welcome you back, when you are able to return. You will find that our poor country of France is bloody and bruised, but determined to take its place in the world again and bind up its wounds. It will take some time to do this, and demand courage and perseverance, but France’s re-discovered freedom will give it the strength to overcome. Our little town has had to endure quite a lot of bombing, although there was none in your particular area, which was some way from the main targets. We remained in our own home. I retired in 1941, but I am very busy in my role, looking after house and home, at these difficult times in our lives. My sister still works at the school, which has become a modern secondary school, preparing pupils for the baccalaureate. Both of us have very fond memories of your parents and we send you are fondest wishes.  M. Schereck

from Yvonne Bagland [Letter was received 10th February (noted on the letter)] My dear Nancy I received your letter of 29th November on 18th January and I was so thrilled to feel a well stuffed envelope in my hands and to have five pages to read, giving me all the longawaited details of your life during these long years of separation. Many, many congratulations to your grandmother for being so robust and of sound mind at her great age. Old age is a wonderful time of life, when things are like that. We compliment you also, my dear Nancy, for being such a good nurse to your father, which was no easy thing. I know, more than most, how wearisome and tiring this can sometimes be. Your life is one of long devotion. It would have pleased me no end, if you had found a good husband. That is what I hoped for you in the past but, true enough, many men have disappeared – it’s exactly the same in France, with all the prisoners-ofwar and all the men working in Germany. The bomb dropped very close to your home!! For us, the nearest were in rue St Lazare and on the little bridge over the railway line to Courtalain…and the rest were aimed at the railway station. We were bombed about twenty times and we were frightened and went down to the cellar, where there was a vaulted ceiling. Once I even went down to Mrs Holman’s house, one Thursday with the children, when there was an air-raid alert. I knew you would do something for your country and I thought you had re-joined the Red Cross. All I do is go every Monday evening to the local Red Cross to make up parcels for sending to prisoners-of-war. I was happy to the best of my ability, to be able to do something by way of thanks for having the, sadly, rare happiness of having my husband close by us. He was in the East (of France) in 1940, but he managed to get to the south of France – what a sadness it was for us then to see our unfortunate country of France in such a state and to experience the coming of the Germans. It was then that I was more frightened than ever in my whole life. The first time was at the farm dairy in Evron, going for milk – I happened to be face to face with five Germans who wanted to come out. I felt frightened to death, but didn’t want to show it, so I waited outside the doorway for them to come out, when the farmer came and closed the door behind them. Imagine my absolute amazement when they walked towards me, saluted me smartly with a click of their heels and asked me for a little milk in the most correct French. I thought I would faint on the spot at such an unexpected greeting. I then went home and told them I was OK and that they had not gobbled me up. Because we were told that they cut off boys’ hands, I kept the boys in the house, but after a few days, when we noticed there was nothing out of the ordinary, we went on with our everyday lives, not without some nervousness in our beds at night, caused by the sound of their boots in lit doorways, or `at the sound of gunfire. Then, in July, I went back to Nogent, after six weeks without any news of Maurice, who came back home in September 1940. On several occasions, we have had Germans lodging on the top floors. An officer, whose aide-de camp had just washed his hands in the kitchen and who then clicked his heels, well we thought that we should not laugh outright in front of him. And a private, who cried when he saw the little boys in the garden (Ah! He was no member of the SS). That lot can’t have children and they must have no heart either. Finally we had six at one go with six bicycles – I persuaded them to carry their bicycles on their shoulders, when they came through the corridor. I was very pleased about that, I can tell you. Because from then on, we weren’t very scared at all and, since September 1940, I had never uttered a word to any of them. They did not pester women either, they understood our manner towards them, but unfortunately they had no shortage of women! Some of them have had their heads shaved – Marie-Louise Bourgery, Rolande Biet, Mrs Viac, whose husband was shot, and many others. They were in prison here for a long time and now they are in internment camps. And Liberation came and we can all breathe freely now, because the patrol marching in their hobnail boots used to depress us, and how many other countries were there that have had to endure their ferocity. I’ll admit that I was very fearful about the way that they might withdraw, but thanks be to God, everything happened in a good and orderly fashion, and, anyway, there were no SS here. You have heard what they did in Oradour-sur-Glane – they put the whole village in the church and burnt then all alive. I think that they’re in the process of being dealt some kind of just retribution. The Russian advance must be terrifying them, because they are being terrible to their Russian prisoners.* Here as well the short supplies of food and goods has been hard, but we have never been without potatoes, even though they were hard to come by in the end, but we haven’t been too deprived, nothing like the big towns and cities, and it’s still going on there. In our case, we have a little wood, we burn that as little as we can, but here agin we consider ourselves fortunate, compared with people in Paris who have no heating at all. Just a tiny supply of gas since June 1944. Dr F…is still the same as ever. He has been doing his rounds on foot for three weeks, the snow and ice means he can’t take his bicycle, because there’s little or no petrol, of course. It’s kept him young. Suzanne Coudray has been bombed out, I don’t think she lost any furniture, actually, but the house is in an indescribable state, good for nothing more than complete demolition and the distillery was also very damaged. I have no news of Estelle, I haven’t heard anything about the message for Jeannine (sic). Abbé Thibault came back in 1940 and since then he has been a teacher in the seminary, then the head of the Red Cross in the Nogent emergency team and an almoner at the prison. Also, he never stops working, either, and his life is one of total devotion and service. He is still a regular visitor at home and he’s a really good friend to me, and often a great support. We often talk about you. It seems that one day he passed you in the street in Le Mans without seeing you and he is very sorry about that. He asks me to send you his good wishes. I hope that your cold has gone. I have had one as well for weeks now and this cold spell doesn’t help at all. Fortunately I have my boots, because we don’t have shoes any more, I am devastated about that for my Christian. Did I tell you that Mummy had three bouts of pneumonia in 128 months? Now she is over them and she sends her best wishes. We had a wonderful, young American lodger from August to September. Unfortunately, he’s gone now, and it’s a pity, because, as he didn’t speak a word of French, I was forced to do my best in English and, if he had stayed, I would have made real progress. A very ‘nice’ boy, he was. Well, I’ll stop now, my dear Nancy, by sending you our most affectionate greetings and love to your parents. Yvone (sic)  Haven’t you got a photo of you I could have. I am writing to Herbert Darty (an American ‘soldier’) in English. I would really need you to make corrections…he must laugh at my terrible mistakes…but who cares. [* just to the N-W of Limoges, on 10th June 1944 the 22nd SS-Panzer division murdered the whole population – 642 people, most of them as described in the letter. Therefore, an accurate piece of anti-Nazi propaganda and not a garbled one]

My dear Nancy, I said in the letter I sent two days ago that I was sending several photos of François. I had to take pretty well all of them out of the envelope because of the weight. So I am sending them along with this letter, so that you and yours will know my little man at different stages of his development. The very low temperatures are rising somewhat…hence the slight thaw, which does not improve life much in Paris – that remains very limited. Good health to all and all my love to you. Very best wishes to your parents. From Georges and my family, best wishes always to you and yours. Love and kisses from François. Odette PS I think that actually you have some of your furniture being looked after by different people. I have raised the matter with Miss B…to ask her if some things can be put aside. She tells me that this has already been done, because I went back more than three weeks after the Liberation and the house was occupied. The piano was much more difficult to spirit away and the “gentlemen” found that too tempting. Odette  A photo of you would be really nice.

from Odette Esnault Almost certainly written in January 1945, given the mention of a four and a half year gap and the details in the letter of events right through 1944. Given also the contents of the next letters she sent My dear Nancy, Your very chatty letter took me back to the long conversations we used to have long ago ! Four and a half years of being separated by the war, that is such a large part of our lives, isn’t it! I was very worried about all you had to organize, when you went. So I was relieved to hear that you have been able to regroup close to family members. Your parents are still fit and healthy despite a number of serious problems you refer to. As for you, you’re still full of funny comments and in control: I can recognize you in all that! Georges is like you, he’s able to be ‘captain of the ship’. Things are less hectic now. I have had a hard time since then, because of François. Fortunately, the baby was only two weeks premature (we had made a mistake over the due date), and he weighed only 2.8 kilos. Even though he was normal (physiologically speaking), he had a difficult start in life. We left Nogent…in a car driven by the solicitor’s wife, Mrs R… …to where her father-inlaw was a doctor. We left with six in the car, which was piled high with suitcases as well. Almost straight away, my waters broke, but I said nothing to the family until we arrived in D… It was a long journey without incident. I was put to bed. We were wanting to reach Flers, where my husband had a factory and from there…we were off to Corrèze! [far away in the centre of France] Because nothing was happening, I was taken in a van to Flers the next morning. Part of the town was being evacuated. There were still two doctors there: I was told that I was going nowhere. All the roads were blocked with people and traffic. So I went into the maternity home situated near the station and stayed there for two days. François was born on the 18th in the morning. I had been very uncomfortable all night. They had three women in childbirth. You could hear sirens sounding. At any moment the town could have been bombed. Luckily it wasn’t. The armistice was our salvation. After convalescing for 11 days, I left the maternity home. We were offered a small house and we stayed three weeks there. François wasn’t making any progress despite changes of milk. We didn’t lack for anything. There was a big butter market at St P…- meat, bread, fruit, oranges. We bought the rest of the layette and a bed. Georges went back to Nogent to see what had been going on there. Everything was all right, but we had to go back there quickly, as the Germans were taking over all empty houses. I spent three months convalescing in Nogent. François was gaining weight at last. He has never really been able to tolerate milk and was sick until he was ten months old. He was difficult to feed until he was two, but he was healthy, all pink and fair-haired. We went back to Paris and life became harder. With a child, I have not been able to put myself first. I had to get up at 5 am to change the baby, give him a bottle or some soup. I’d go down…to queue for half or quarter of a litre of milk…I’d go back up to give him a bottle, then go back down again. Then I had to take the baby out for a walk. There was no proper heating. The sheets could be dried one by one in front of a tiny heater. The odd parcel arriving would break the daily boredom. I returned to Nogent in 1941. In January Aunt Alice fell ill. She went into hospital in April and was then moved to a Bonneval hospital in May. In June, François was baptized. In July Aunt Suzanne was ill. I was on my own with François, so I arranged for her to go into hospital in Nogent, then moved her to Bonneval in September. I am sick to death of holidays in Nogent. So I look for tenants, so that I can avoid having my house requisitioned. The year after, we have our holidays in A…, in the Loire valley. François gets measles and they make me leave the hotel. Back in Paris, the bombing gets worse and we get so tired. Finally, the following winter, we have more heating. But, at every airraid alarm, we go down to the cellar. In July 1943 I was told that the aunts could leave hospital. The electric shock treatment had made them better. I spent four months looking for a nursing home run by nuns…a relatively inexpensive one. I found one in H… (Seine-et-Oise), near Conflans. Both of them settled in well. 2nd April 1944 – Bernard died suddenly after two heart attacks, one after the other. We were absolutely devastated. We are keeping it from Mummy who is having treatment again and on the mend. Bernard’s body was brought back to Nogent. I kept Mummy with me for four days and then slowly and gradually told her about her sad loss. Contrary to what we had thought, she didn’t react much. She cocooned herself in a sort of unfeeling indifference. That was best for her, but my sister-in-law was deeply affected. This terrible, brutal blow has been so hard for her to get over. 20th April Noisy le Sec was bombed. 22nd April – it was La Chapelle. The whole district was in a panic, with great fears for the Batignoles district [warehousing district and goods area to east of Paris]. In the evening people leaving in droves. – spent the night in the Métro. We slept for two nights in a friend’s house and, then, on 11th June, we went to stay with Bernard’s wife. Air-raid warnings during the night. We went down to the cellar twice. We were exhausted. The bombings really affected me. I go with François to Senlis to stay with my cousins and enjoy their delightful hospitality for three months. Good food – Georges came to see me every two weeks… 1st June I find that Mummy is better, and with her sister in H… Go back to Senlis. 3rd July two light planes drop bombs 50 m from my cousins’ house and the surrounding areas were also hit by bombs. On 12th, Senlis is bombed, so we leave and are back in Paris by the 15th. – two days before the uprising, then, the whole week, guns going off all around and fighting nearby…from day to day. Then barricades, finally, the miracle of liberation. Then German bombs on the 27th – some of the 17th arrondissement was hit. Finally Paris is released from its prison, things are improving and we can breathe again. We`have no news from H…nor any from friends. After a month, normal life is resumed. Gradually you feel safer and more confident. Food supplies are improved…but winter is approaching…no heating…we must hang on. François has ear-ache and needs a lot of looking after. But 1944 ends on a bad note for us. Aunt Alice fell ill again. We put her in hospital near us. Five weeks of treatment will put her back on her feet, but…then Aunt Suzanne follows suit. She takes Aunt Alice’s place in hospital. She is already improving. We are hoping for the same successful outcome. This treatment suits them remarkably well. This is what has happened during the last four and a half years with all their various trials and tribulations. Simone has been particularly worried about her father. She doesn’t write much – I have had only three or four letters from her. It’s her cousin, Jeanine, who is the connection there. She paid a high price during this war, when she lost her husband in May 1940. Since then she has been living with her in-laws not far from here, which means that we can see one another regularly. She was often in danger. In December 1944 – she was under surveillance – she had to stay well away from the family home for six months, only seeing her children at other people’s houses. She was also fearful for her father – she had had a double misfortune in 1941, when she lost her beloved mother who was 58 years old. Her daughter is already a young lady of 14. The little one is now seven. She can’t go back home. I have not had any recent news of Mrs Daupeley. I rarely go to Nogent, not more than once a year and then, only there and back, on business. I have only heard of the conviction of Miss Louise Choisnard (Simone’s former neighbour) to ten years hard labour for collaborating. Mr B… is in prison as well. I suppose it’s more a matter of conduct. The teacher, Héritier, who wrote the book… left with the Germans. But he left behind him disciples and young persons who will pay the price. Like the Komaroff boy from the Town Hall, who has been condemned to death. It was very sensitive of you to not tell us some news, so as not to attract too much attention. I have found this lack of communication dreadful. I had your letter on the 10th. It had been opened, but not censored. I see that your work involves a lot of responsibility. All those figures must give you a headache. I know that British women are doing their civic duty and I think that things will end up the same here, since we are again at war and everyone must play their part. People are finding friends again, who had been scattered far and wide by the war. Everyone is marked by the years of hardship. Domfront and Flers, where we took refuge in 1940, no longer exist. My friend, Helena, from Belgium, came to France in 1941. She was with her husband in Cherbourg! Her four children were with a relative in Vernon! They came through successfully. She had a very tough week in Cherbourg, but was protected most of the time. The children were reunited with their parents. A fifth child arrived in December (making four sons and a daughter). The daughter of GJ got married in 1942. Three weeks later her husband was working in Germany and had only two periods of leave. She is awaiting his return…but when will it happen? It’s the prisonersof-war or those deported to labour camps who are really the ones who have had the worst time in the war. Enclosed are some photos of François. The little man gives his Aunt Nancy a big hug, even though he doesn’t know her. (He is asking me who I am writing to so furiously). My husband, Mummy and various aunts ask to be remembered to you. For you, from me, the fondest of love and friendship for ever, with the hope that I shall see you before long. I know that I must possess my soul in patience.  Love Odette