Vénissieux Camp
August 29, 1942
Klaus Barbie left the camp director’s office with his pistol in hand. Cussonac had said that he thought the children were being kept in the mess hall, though he was not entirely sure. Klaus’s assistant followed with his pistol raised as well. They opened the doors of the mess hall and were greeted by a gust of foul heat. There were toys and drawings on the floor but not a child in sight.
“Where the hell are they?” Klaus growled in anger. “One hundred children can’t disappear all at once!”
Klaus then checked all the barracks, but the camp was deserted.
The two Nazis walked through the sticky mud to the front gate. A gendarme snapped out of his stupor and saluted when he heard their footsteps.
“Where are the children?”
The policeman tried to make out the Gestapo officer’s French.
“Where are the children?” Klaus barked again, this time picking the man up by his jacket flaps.
“W-well, the children have gone like the rest of them,” the gendarme stammered.
“Why did you let them leave?”
“It’s evacuation day. All the prisoners had to leave.”
Klaus threw the man against the guardhouse and screamed in his face as he hit the ground, “You damned, inept traitors!”
Then the German stormed back to his car with great strides. The imprecations did not cease until they had driven away from the camp. Now he had a new mission. One hundred children could not be easily hidden. They must have been taken somewhere in Lyon to then be dispersed around the area. He would find them and send them all to Germany, and then he would take care of everyone who had made their escape possible. He would not rest until the last collaborator was behind bars and then swinging from the gallows as a nice example for their compatriots.