Le Chambon-sur-Lignon
June 29, 1943
The sound of motors woke them. Jacob went to the window and saw two Citröens, a dozen German police, and a truck with a canvas cover at the end of the road. He jumped out of bed, threw on his shorts, and called for Moses. “The Germans are coming!” he said, scrambling into his shirt and shoes.
It took Moses a minute to react, but then he got dressed as quickly as he could. Jacob helped him tie his shoes, and they ran downstairs. When they got to the living room, they heard a loud bang and saw the door burst open. The Nazis entered screaming, “Raus, raus!”
They ran up the stairs beating on doors and dragging the children out of bed. Jacob and Moses tried to slip out the back door, but the Germans had surrounded the building. One huge soldier grabbed them by their clothes and carried them back inside.
The terrified children and adolescents found themselves surrounded in the living room. Some were crying, some yelling, but most just hung their heads and hoped this was nothing more than another scare, a show of force.
“Where is Daniel Trocmé?” one of the soldiers demanded.
Jacob dared to raise his head and look around, but he did not see their tutor.
“What are you looking at, swine?” a soldier asked, and the back of his hand met Jacob’s face. The blow stunned the boy, and his nose started to bleed. Moses went toward him, but the soldier pushed him hard to the ground.
Just then Daniel appeared at the back door. The night before, he had stayed at another of the boardinghouses and was on his way back when he heard the screams of the children. He could have escaped to the woods, but he hurried to the house. He could not leave the children at the mercy of the Germans.
“Are you Daniel Trocmé? We have suspicions that you are hiding members of the Resistance and Jewish refugees here. Tell us which of the children are French and which are Jews.”
Daniel answered calmly, “For me, they are all simply students.”
The Gestapo leader stepped forward until his face was an inch from Daniel’s. He screamed, “Don’t come at me with your stupid pacifist morality. Those terrorist cowards are murdering our men. You denounce the Jews and the members of the Resistance, or I’ll take the whole lot of you in. Understood?”
“The children are under the protection of the Swiss government, which provides for their upkeep. If you detain any of them, you’ll be contravening international treaties . . .” But before Daniel could finish, the officer hit him in the face.
“Take him to one of the rooms in the back to question him,” he barked.
The noise of the trucks had gotten the attention of a young Resistance worker named Suzanne Heim. When she saw what was happening at the Maison des Roches, she turned and went straight to the church. She was out of breath by the time she entered the presbytery.
“What in the world is going on?” Magda asked, taking in the girl’s nerves at a glance.
“The Gestapo are at the Maison des Roches!” she gasped out.
“Oh, dear God, no,” Magda cried. She ran to the front of the church, grabbed her bike, and pedaled as fast as she could to the boardinghouse.
She arrived, threw down her bike, and marched into the kitchen. Assuming she was a cook, the Germans did not stop her. She busied herself getting some food ready while watching the Gestapo calling the children in one at a time to Daniel’s office to document their identities. It twisted Magda’s heart to see their scared, confused faces, still half-asleep.
Magda served the Germans some food, then made her way to Daniel.
“Daniel, do you remember what happened a few weeks ago? The little Spanish boy who saved the German who was drowning in the river? That might help us here,” she whispered.
“It’s worth a shot,” he said under his breath.
Magda left her apron on a hook and went back out, hopped back on her bike, and headed into town, straight for the Hotel du Lignon, where convalescing German soldiers were housed. She hopped off her bike and marched up the stairs, but the guard at the door stopped her. In German, she explained that she needed to speak with a certain soldier. The guard knew who Magda was and allowed her in.
In the great hall of the hotel, she spotted three soldiers drinking and talking and marched right up to them.
“Have any of you been in Le Chambon-sur-Lignon for more than three weeks?”
Her question took them all by surprise. “Why do you ask?”
“Three weeks ago, a German soldier was on the verge of drowning in the river, and one of the students from the Maison des Roches saved him,” Magda said, praying the officers would remember the incident.
“Yes, I remember. I was there that day,” one of them said.
“This morning the Gestapo went to that boardinghouse and they’re aiming to arrest the school. Could you come help us?”
The Germans looked at one another. They could not understand what she was after. The oldest answered, “We’re not part of the Gestapo, ma’am. I don’t see how we can be of help.”
“I’m asking you as officers and gentlemen to testify on behalf of the children. We can’t let them be taken away.”
Two of the soldiers got up, put on their hats, and followed Magda. It was a surreal image: Magda walking down the main street of town, pushing her bicycle, escorted by two German soldiers. They had not gotten far when they ran into two girls from the church on their bikes.
“Girls, could you lend me your bikes? I need them for something important,” Magda called.
The girls looked up, surprised, but they got off and handed their bikes to the officers. The party of three set off at full speed toward the Maison des Roches.
When they arrived, they were stopped at the door.
“We’d like to speak with the officer in charge,” one of the soldiers said, unintimidated by the Gestapo. When the guard hesitated, the soldier repeated his intention, and the guard finally went inside and alerted his supervisor.
“What’s going on?” the Gestapo officer said as soon as he walked outside. “This is none of your business.”
The soldier answered coolly, “We wanted to make it known that a student from this house saved one of our men from drowning a few days ago. We do not believe they are members of the Resistance.”
“Thank you, but we have information about this house, including the criminal activities of some of its members and the teacher Daniel Trocmé.”
The soldiers shrugged, left the bicycles beside the house, and returned to the hotel. There was nothing more they could do for the children, but at least they had tried.
Magda stared at the Gestapo official and said, “I want to speak with Daniel Trocmé.”
“You can’t right now, but come back this afternoon.” He turned to go.
Magda stood on the stoop for a moment, gathering her thoughts. Then she took her bike and walked it down the hill. The devastation sometimes threatened to swallow her whole. She had been separated from her husband back in February. Trocmé, Theis, and Darcissac had been held at the Saint-Paul Camp, but just before most of the camp’s prisoners were transferred to Germany, the three men were released thanks to intervention from various public officials. But what would happen now with Daniel and the children? Would they face the same fate? Would they return safe and sound?
At home, Alice had been watching the Trocmé children and waiting for Magda to return. Seeing Magda’s dejected face, Alice went to the kitchen and made tea.
“How are the children?” Alice asked.
“I don’t know. They wouldn’t let me in. I’m sure they haven’t eaten since early this morning. They must be terrified. We’ve got to get them out of there.”
Alice groped for comfort, though her face was as downcast as Magda’s. “Rest for a bit and save your strength. In a couple hours things might look different.”
Magda sank into the chair and began to cry. Then she knelt and prayed, “Oh God, God, God!”
Two hours later, she returned to the Maison des Roches with Jean-Pierre, whose friends Jacob and Moses were among those being questioned. As they approached, they saw all the children lined up with Daniel at the head. The Gestapo did not let them approach, but Magda called to him, “Daniel, don’t be afraid!”
His clear voice ran out, “It’s all right! I’ll go with my students and protect them.”
The tears returned to Magda’s eyes, and she clung to Jean-Pierre’s hand. “Why are they taking you?” she called back.
“They’re accusing me of being a Jew and of helping the Resistance.”
“But that’s ridiculous,” she protested, desperate.
“Tell my parents that I love them and that I’ll be fine. As soon as I can, I’ll get in touch with them,” Daniel said, raising a hand. Jacob, Anna, and Moses were beside him. Jean-Pierre saw them and started hollering for them.
“Where are they taking them, Mother?” he asked, distraught.
Magda did not know how to answer. She bit her lip and shifted her weight from one foot to the other while the soldiers pushed the students toward the truck. One by one they climbed in, but when it was Moses’s turn, Jean-Pierre ran up and hugged him.
“Don’t go, don’t go!” Jean-Pierre begged between sobs.
Magda ran up to her son as the Gestapo inspector cracked his whip at them.
“These two are very young,” she protested, pointing to Jacob and Moses.
“They’re Jewish swine. It’s hard to believe you’re the wife of a Protestant pastor,” was his disdainful reply.
“They’re children, not Jews. They’re just orphans,” she answered.
The inspector seared her with his dark eyes. “Don’t you know a preacher’s wife shouldn’t lie?”
“I’m not lying, inspector. They’re just orphans from Paris, innocent children,” she said, weeping.
Jean-Pierre clung to Moses. Their sobs were audible, as were Jacob’s, coming from inside the truck. The inspector hesitated briefly, then gave the order for the boys to be released.
Jacob grabbed Anna’s hand, and she held on tight, but their fingers separated as a soldier pulled Jacob out of the truck. Magda saw Anna, the child with light eyes, blond hair, and panic all over her face.
“She’s not Jewish either!” Magda cried, reaching for Anna’s hand.
“Not the girl!” the Gestapo officer shouted, pushing Anna farther into the truck.
Two soldiers dragged Magda back. Jacob, Moses, and Jean-Pierre ran to help her, but other soldiers blocked them. The students of the Maison des Roches continued filing into the truck until it was nearly full. Besides Daniel Trocmé, the Gestapo detained eighteen students: Spaniards, Dutch, Belgians, Germans, Austrians, Romanians, Luxembourgers, and French.
A soldier shut the doors and smacked the back of the truck. The rest of the soldiers returned to their vehicles, and the party was off in a cloud of dust. Jacob tore off running behind the truck. He could see Anna’s pale face looking out the back. He ran faster and faster, but the truck moved farther and farther away. As soon as the convoy turned onto the main street, Jacob fell too far behind and stopped to catch his breath. Anna’s face turned into a white speck and then disappeared. Jacob collapsed and beat at the ground with his fists.
He later walked back to the house, head hung low. There was no one outside. Inside, he found half a dozen of the older boys in absolute silence. The Spaniard boy who had saved the German soldier was there. The Gestapo had pushed him out of the line headed toward the truck at the last minute. Magda stood, silent, pouring water into cups for everyone.
“They took her?” Moses asked.
Jacob squeezed his brother tightly to him. He had not been able to keep his promise to protect Anna. She had been his first love, the only girl he had kissed. And he had lost her forever.
“I couldn’t help her,” Jacob said before his voice cracked and all the grief poured out in sobs. He knew right then that they could not wait any longer. They had to get out of France as soon as possible, even if they got caught in the attempt. The only thing that mattered now was getting his brother to safety and seeing their parents again. In many ways, the Jacob who had left Paris almost a year ago no longer existed. Standing in his place was a young man who had wiped his mind and heart clear forever of the magic of childhood, the age when everything is possible and imagination is powerful enough to transform reality and start all over with a snap of the fingers. That magic had disappeared. The only thing Jacob felt was loneliness and shame, like Adam the day he discovered the terrible difference between good and evil.