Hello and thank you for inviting me to this little ceremony today.

So I'm here to tell you about my little

adventure. From 1944. So in 1944, I was five years old, living in Belfort with my maternal grandparents,
and with my paternal grandparents from time to time. And of course, I was living through the war. But for
me, it was a natural thing, since I was born into war and didn't know anything else. For others, it wasn't
the same. In my mother's family, I had an uncle, my mother's brother Michel, who was eight years older
than me and therefore lived with me. He was my big brother. I adored Michel and followed him
everywhere. But I didn't really want to. But anyway, I followed him anyway, and we got along just fine.
Then came August 1944. Two years ago, I had already seen the Normandy landings, and the Allies had
already liberated Paris and were advancing slowly towards eastern France.

And the Germans were also advancing towards the east of France to take refuge there, because the rest
had already been liberated. So in Belfort arrived an incredible number of German troops who couldn't find
accommodation in the barracks because there were too many of them. So they decided to take our
houses and come and live with us. So my grandmother's house, my grandmother's houses were
requisitioned from my paternal grandmother's, and there were 20 of them. It was an old farm, so there
was a barn. It's quite big. There were 20 Germans who came to live there, so they had the place to
themselves. And then barn, stable, garden, orchard, everything. They ran everything. Grandma, in fact,
made herself very small. She stayed at home anyway, but in the company of her 20 German soldiers. My
maternal grandmother's house was much smaller. We only had three, but it was still a lot.

They moved into the dining room, put straw on the floor and slept on it. So we lived with the Germans.
What's more, there were bombings all the time, and we were rationed more and more from the start of the
war. Let me give you a small example: 350 grams of meat. So here, it could be a bone like this. It
weighed about 350 grams. It wasn't all flesh. So 350 grams of meat a week. For five-year-olds. A quarter
of a liter of unskimmed milk every other day, that's not much. A quarter liter makes a good glass. 70
grams of cheese per person per week. So that was our daily routine, and we were hungry all the time. We
were hungry. We looked for everything, we pulled up, we even pulled up the roots of certain plants in the
forest. I remember a plant with blue flowers.
I think it's called an answer. And we'd pull up this plant and it'd be like a little potato, roots, and we'd eat it.
It was delicious, we thought it was delicious, so we were hungry. When we got up in the morning, we'd
run to the gooseberry bushes to find a little pink currant that had turned pink overnight. Then we'd pick it.
We never saw the red currants because we used to eat them. Anyway, we were hungry, we were cold
because we were out of wood. So we went out to find wood in the forest, and we went to the Vosges
mountains. We brought back a supply of wood on our bikes, because we went by bicycle. We didn't have
a car, we were out of gas and tires. So we were hungry, we were cold, we had no hygiene products at all.
By shampoo, by soap, by shampoo? And of course, no make-up products.

So at school, well, the children almost all had their own tastes. When we got home from school, we had to
run a little comb through our hair to remove any lice we'd picked up during the day from other children
who were full of them. Some of them were full of lice, and you could see the lice running through their
hair. So my grandmother used to tell me: "Stay away from them! But I didn't. So I'd come home in the
evening, often with two or three of them. So no more cleaning products, and naturally no more medicines.
In terms of medicines, there was no more aspirin, so headaches could be treated with a wet cloth on the
forehead, and no more mercurochrome. For mail, that's what it was called, but you need it when you want
it. If you had a small wound, you put on a red product called mercurochrome, so no more mercurochrome.
So we disinfected ourselves with bleach diluted in urine. And that was our life. Plus three Germans at
home.

Suddenly, in September 44, my mother was informed that there were passages to Switzerland organized
by the Swiss Red Cross and the French Red Cross. But the French Red Cross was far less effective,
because it remained under German domination. Everything the French Red Cross did had to be
authorized by the Germans, who didn't necessarily give the go-ahead, which meant that children could go
to Switzerland and be welcomed by families, be given food and clothes, and not run off at breakneck
speed. When a siren sounded because there was-there was a bombing. No longer afraid of German
soldiers. And so my mother was seduced by this project. However, she was reluctant to send this five-
year-old all alone to Switzerland. So we appointed Uncle Michel to accompany her. And Michel didn't
want to go, didn't want to leave his friends, didn't want to leave his parents and didn't want to accompany
his niece. In the end, grandfather decided.

He said You'll go to Switzerland, that's an order and you'll stop flinching and being criticized. So they
prepared a small package for us. We didn't have much because there was no more fabric, no more
thread, no more elastic, nothing left to make clothes with. So we cut, for example, from a man's trouser
legs and made a skirt. A little girl, for example. We'd try to make the most of every little bit of fabric that
was left. So we didn't have much of an opinion. So we put our meager supplies in a box or a small
suitcase. And then... We met in the morning in front of Belfort town hall. Michel looked incredible. I was
unhappy, I was happy, I was leaving. Michel, that was enough for me. I didn't know what Switzerland was.
And then they told us we were leaving in a truck. So I was happy, because I'd never been in a truck
before. So everything, everything appealed to me and I was happy to leave.

We arrived in front of Belfort town hall, where there were two trucks waiting for us. They were the city's
garbage trucks. Only the garbage trucks that still had decent tires could transport us. The other trucks
couldn't go any further. So we climbed into the garbage trucks. The moms were crying. I mean, she was
hanging on to the truck when it started up. And then we had to pull them off the truck. But she was. And
she didn't know where we were going. It was the unknown. We knew it was Switzerland, but back then,
what was Switzerland? We didn't know. So we set off and arrived in Delle. So I was happy, I was always
in my truck from the. I knew it. We had Adèle family, we often went to visit them. So for me, it was good.
And we got through customs just fine. So at customs, well, there was.

German soldiers with machine guns. We had to pass between them, and they were there in case a little
Jew or a boy who should have gone to the S.T.O. or a little Alsatian in the procession of children,
because Alsatians were also going to be conscripted into the German army from the age of fifteen. So, at
that time, the Germans were very suspicious and they checked us thoroughly and properly. So we had a
label with our surname, first name, date of birth, where we were from, and they checked. They had big
registers, so they would write everything down. We were a bit scared to pass between these armed
soldiers. And the man in charge of the registers didn't look very good. He talked loudly and got angry. He
was asking questions. In the end, we managed to get through customs and into Switzerland. Then there
were the Red Cross people who welcomed us with a smile.

They'd tell us, "Now you'll have something to eat, you're safe, there'll be no more bombing, you're calm,
you have a serene life. And I. I lived a serene life with her. I already had it. I was well before. And. We
were received at my class by the two Russians. Who had prepared a dining room. I don't remember if it
was the dining room. Maybe it was the hall because we came straight in and the tables were set up. So
maybe it was a hall with tables, benches on top and then plates with mountains of tartines. So tartine de
beurre avec confiture miel Enfin. And we were served hot chocolate. We don't know what it is. We'd never
seen it before. And we were able to eat as much toast as we wanted, with recommendations from the
Red Cross ladies who didn't tell us too much so as not to get sick. And then we left for the station and got
on a train we didn't know where we were going.

Anyway, I didn't care. I was happy to get on a train, I'd never been on one before, and off we went to
Basel. Well, we'd already done a lot to get back, and we were running. Then the train stopped. And there,
on the station platform. A multitude of people. Waiting for us with fruit, cakes and chocolate, and handing
us all these treats through the train window we'd opened. It was a mad rush for the children to get to
those windows. And then we devoured everything on the train. It was just... It was really magical for us.
After Porrentruy, I can't remember the name of the station. And all the stations we stopped at before
arriving in Basel, it was the same crowd waiting for us. And for us, it's an added miracle that Gare is lit up.
Because in France, we had curfew from 7 a.m. in winter, 8 a.m. to 12 p.m., we lived in total darkness, the
streets were no longer lit.

It was total darkness everywhere. So to see these stations lit up was almost magical. So we arrived in
Baghdad and there we were directed to a corner of the station where there was straw on the floor,
blankets and we slept on the floor. My grandmother told me You're not leaving Michel. You say he's your
brother. You don't leave him. You hold him by the hand, all the time. Well, I obeyed my grandmother. I
wasn't usually so obedient, but there, to hold Michelle, I obeyed. So I refused. We were separated into
boys and girls, but I refused to go with the girls. I said, "I'm staying with Michel and he's my brother.
Finally, the lady at the Red Cross was indulgent and said, "Go and sleep with the boys, it doesn't matter.
So I was with the boys the next day when we got up. Shower, disinfection. Then the lady said to me, this
time you're going with the girls.

But I refused again and tried to tear myself away from Michèle, but I wanted so much for her not to talk
about it anymore. So I stayed with Michel again. So I ended up with the boys. We had to take off all our
clothes, which were put in a little basket, and I went to the disinfection room because of Gal or a small
group. And so on. Yes, I see it as bad for a little fat guy. If it was already the major things, if a lot of
children were affected. So after we got our clothes back, we went next to a doctor and a nurse who
examined us, took a good look at us and we could hear what the doctor was saying. Sometimes he would
say tuberculosis, sanatorium. Several times he said that, and then for others, many glasses. But the
foster family would take care of him. Michel and I. Miracle, we had nothing. We could pass. And we did.
We were put back on another train. Well, not right away. First, we.

We slept in Basel. No. They put us back on another train and off we went to Zurich. And there, in Zurich,
we were welcomed into a family where we spent the night and had dinner. We'd never seen so much
food. Never had we eaten food so good. It was wonderful. And the next day, well, in Zurich, we left for
Zurich station and were put back on another train. So there weren't many of us there, we were in small
groups of four or five and we were directed all over the place. We were directed to Kyle Berg. I don't know
if that rings a bell. That's where the Lind factories are. And I was in a house near the Lind factory and it
smelled of chocolate in every room. And I could smell it. It was good, it was still wonderful and I think I
drooled it because it smelled so strong.
And Michel went to another family, but he made it our mission, as poor unfortunates, to answer every one
of my calls. The Red Cross nurse who looked after us made it clear to both families that whenever the
little girl called him, he was to come to her. Well, I took full advantage of it, that's normal. Don't laugh,
you'd do the same. So I found myself in a family, wonderful people, an incredible neighborhood, but still
very strict. I wasn't used to so much rigor then. And they were surprised by everything I did and said.
Then the lady innocently took out a chocolate bar from a cabinet. I could see right away that there was a
pile of them. So as soon as I was alone, I grabbed a chocolate bar and hid it under a cushion. And then I
ate some chocolate. The lady noticed, of course. And the next day she told her husband and mother I've
had two bars since she came.

So the husband said We must hide the chocolate. So she hid the chocolate. But I found it again because
I'd won. So the poor lady finally put the chocolate in a desk and took the key and put a chain around her
neck and tied the key to it. And I stayed six months in Switzerland and she lived with that for six months
with a key around her neck. So there we were, in Switzerland, and we started living the life of a Swiss
German. He spoke German, but on the evening of my arrival, the gentleman who had two children, who
was studying French at school, said from now on, we're French like her and we speak French. The
gentleman spoke very well, and so did the lady. So the whole family spoke French, and I think the
children made great progress. So what can you tell us about your stay in Switzerland? The boat trips on
the lake? The train and bus outings.

The lady said to me, "We're going to Zurich, how do you want to get there? By train, by boat or by bus?
By the. There. It wasn't my dilemma. It was the dilemma of cultivating nothing. I wanted to do all three. So
in the end, I. I. I almost always chose the boat because, failing that, my apartment, we didn't have a boat.
We still had so much basil, so many things. We didn't know much about blue dots. Then Nicolas arrived.
So all the neighbors joined in. They dressed up as Saint Nicholas and came to bring me sweets, pillow
heads full of sweets. I'd never seen anything like it. And that's how he came. Five or six neighbors
dressed as Saint Nicholas. There was one who drew up our little red aprons in yellow, who was dressed
in white. And I was waiting for a sixth, a seventh or what? I thought it would never end.

Then there was Christmas. I'd never seen a Christmas tree before. And tonight, Christmas Eve. My hosts
took me and my children out of the house. We went for a walk and when we came back, I opened the
door and there was a Christmas tree. I was lit by candles. It wasn't an electric light, it was candles, and I'd
never seen anything like it. And at the foot of the tree, there were lots of presents that all the neighbors
and all the Swiss people on the street had sent. So there you have it. To give you an idea of the holiday.
And then... March arrived. Before that, I had seen the snowman burn on Lake Zurich. I really liked that
too. In February, they make a snowman and burn it symbolically to show that winter is leaving and spring
is coming. And then we went back to Belfort. Now Belfort is much more German, but there are Americans,
English, Senegalese, Moroccans and Algerians.

There were all nationalities. I'd never seen black people before. So I was really surprised. And when I
arrived at my grandparents' house, well, there was a Senegalese, a Moroccan, an American, an
Englishman and a French soldier in the kitchen, who had got into the habit of coming to their house every
evening to drink herbal tea and keep warm, because there wasn't much fuel in the barracks and it got
cold. Maybe it wasn't very warm at home either, but they were better off in the barracks. And that's how I
was welcomed back. And Michel, of course, happy as can be to be back with his family. So that's our stay
in Switzerland.

Because if we had stayed in Belfort, there would still have been a lot of fighting. There were a lot of
deaths, a lot of houses bombed, roofs blown off by shells. So I don't know if people lived in cellars. They
lived in cellars for at least four months. Can you imagine that? So I don't know if I'd still be here to tell you
all that story. So there you go.

Thanks to Switzerland.

Marie Thérèse Boiteux on 18 09 2023 - Collège St Charles