Lyon
August 30, 1942
The night was long and even hotter than the previous one. The temperatures did not reflect the fact that summer was winding down. Most of the thirty-some-odd children yet to be placed with a family finally fell asleep, but Rachel Berkowicz had tossed and turned restlessly. She managed to relax into a dream only a few minutes before the social workers served breakfast.
The day before, during the long wait at the convent, she had played her violin several times to entertain the other children. The case was now doubling as her pillow as the outside light filtered through the windows of the hall.
“Good morning, Rachel. How are you today?” Lili asked.
“Tired, hungry, and hot,” she said frankly.
“Yes, I’m afraid we all are. But no trial lasts forever, as my dad used to tell me.”
The girl sat up a bit. Lili sat beside her and handed her a croissant and a glass of milk.
“Do you miss your mom and dad?” Lili asked.
“Mainly my dad and my stepmom. I haven’t seen my real mom in a long time.”
“It’s all so hard, isn’t it?”
“As long as I can remember, we’ve always been going from place to place. I never really know where I’m from.”
The maturity of Rachel’s analysis seemed incongruent with her slight, disheveled, eight-year-old body. Lili smiled at her and said, “Well, you can be from wherever you want to be.”
“That’s not what the Nazis think. They say we’re a plague on the world.”
“The Nazis are full of nonsense, Rachel. Don’t listen to what they say. I think a family is coming to pick you up today.”
To Rachel, the wait in the convent was confirmation that she was now completely alone and unloved. She wondered if it would have been better to stay with Fani. Her answer was hardly audible. “Why has it taken so long for them to come get me?”
Having no direct answer, Lili said, “Your adoptive family is from Saint-Sauveur-de-Montagut, the Merlands.”
“What are their names?”
“I looked at the list but I can’t remember very well. I think the wife is named Paulette.”
“Paulette Merland . . . that’s a good name; I like it.” Rachel nodded to herself with a milky smile. The food and Lili’s words had improved her mood.
As Rachel and Lili talked, Madeleine and René Fraure arrived at the convent along with their friend Paulette Merland. Dr. Joseph Weill had been the one to contact them about adopting children from Vénissieux.
The three adults teared up immediately upon entering the hall and seeing a group of familiar faces. A handful of the Vénissieux children had lived in Saint-Sauveur-de-Montagut for some time before the recent raid. Just a few days prior they could be seen happily running and playing in the streets. Now they were unhealthily thin and haggard, with circles beneath their eyes and sadness darkening their faces.
Madeleine Fraure wiped her tears and said, “Hello, children, we’ve come for all of you.”
The children stared at her mutely. They had seen these adults around town but had never spoken with them.
Lili said, “This is Anna and Jules Szrajbe, Hélène Raychmann, and Jean Baumel.”
Rachel was hiding behind Lili, holding her violin case.
“And this is our violinist, Rachel Berkowicz.”
Paulette knelt beside Rachel and put her hand on the child’s shoulders.
“I remember you, little one. I’ve heard you playing violin many times.”
Rachel did not know what to say.
“Your dad is a barber, isn’t he?” Paulette went on.
“Yes, but now he’s . . .” Rachel’s face crumpled and she could not finish the sentence. Paulette hugged her, and Rachel let herself cry.
“But now you’re safe,” she cooed.
“Will I stay with you or with them?” Rachel asked between sniffles, pointing to the Fraures.
Madeleine Fraure piped in, her eyes twinkling, “Not with us, honey, but with Mrs. Merland. That way you’ll be living with the best and nicest family in town. They’ll take good care of you until you can be with your parents again.”
The three adults held as many small hands as they could while exiting the convent. The children were relieved and happy. They were so tired of fear, desperation, and suffering. Walking away felt like a chance to live normally again.
* * *
As the group headed to Saint-Sauveur-de-Montagut left, Father Glasberg entered the convent in haste. It was almost noon, and there were still too many children without family placements. He called Joseph Weill and others to a meeting in a side room.
“Things have gotten dire. Time is against us, and I’ve been informed that, besides the gendarmes, the SS is on our trail, sent by a captain named Klaus Barbie, the same one who was at the camp overseeing the deportations. Plus, the adult Jews deported from Vénissieux are held up north of Lyon at Chalon-sur-Saône, which is where the handoff to the Nazis occurs. Apparently the police up there informed René Bousquet that there are fewer refugees than promised and there aren’t enough children. The prefect, Angeli, has ordered an immediate search for the children, and he’s ruthless.”
“So they’re holding up the shipment to Germany until they find the children,” Joseph concluded.
“Exactly. Because of this, our top priority is to empty this hall. The prefect knows that Gilbert Lesage and I are behind all of this. He’s sent his men after me to bring me in for questioning.”
“So you two need to go into hiding immediately,” Élisabeth said, worried.
Glasberg nodded. “I’m not worried for my own safety, but I don’t know what I’d be capable of revealing during torture.”
Lili frowned before speaking.
“The gendarmes would go that far?”
“For them, we’ve now become terrorists, enemies of the state who are endangering national security,” the priest explained.
“But that’s ridiculous—a bunch of lies!” Lili protested.
“Well, it’s the truth according to them, and that’s what matters. I’ll keep out of the way so the gendarmes don’t arrest me until the children are out of danger. Then they can do whatever they want with me. But that’s why the lists with all the addresses of the families have to be destroyed as soon as our operation concludes. Yes, Joseph?”
Joseph nodded gravely.
“Okay, so let’s get to it. There’s a lot left to be done.”
Father Glasberg left the meeting room and studied the faces of the remaining children in the hall. With every fiber of his being, he hoped those innocent souls would get out of there alive. Their parents were stuck crammed together in foul, unsanitary train cars en route to either immediate death or slavery until they starved. But their sons and daughters deserved the chance to survive.
The priest went out beneath the pounding sun. The few passersby hurried from one shady spot to the next on their errands. Common sense told him to hide and stay safe, but he had never paid much attention to the voice of self-protection. His mission was not yet over, and he was willing, if necessary, to pay with his life in order to save those children.