Lyon
August 30, 1942
Angeli pounded the table with his fist. The prefect wanted Gilbert Lesage to tell him right that minute what they had done with the children, but Gilbert was not easily swayed. He had joined the Quakers some time before and had spent many years helping people in difficult situations, especially refugees. A longtime lover of ideas, he had studied philosophy in Paris until he realized that the pretty words were pointless unless they turned into concrete action. His life took a major turn in 1929 when he met the Quaker Ella Barlow. That is when he became a Quaker and dedicated his life to promoting peace. He had lived in Berlin in 1932 and 1933 as Hitler came to power and the world fell apart before his eyes. The Nazis expelled him from the country when they became aware of Gilbert’s activities. Back in France, Gilbert was planning to go to England, but he was asked to head up the aid to refugees in Paris. The rise of Nazism had led to a flood of Jews escaping from Germany to France. Among other jobs, he had also helped Spaniards fleeing their country since the start of their civil war. When war broke out in Europe, Gilbert had been obliged to join the army. After the armistice between France and Germany was signed, he went to Vichy to offer his services to the newly formed government. There, an old friend, Mr. Laborie, recommended Gilbert for a post with the Ministry to Family and Youth. He eventually wound up in Lyon as the inspector general of refugee services for the Ministry of the Interior.
Angeli knew that he was not dealing with any do-gooder Quaker. “You know that I can send you straight to jail or hand you over to the Gestapo for interrogation. We ourselves can’t interrogate you the way I’d like, not until I find enough proof, but the Germans aren’t inhibited by such formalities.”
“All I can say is that the children are in a safe place, which I will not reveal. Do as you see fit, Prefect.”
Angeli knew that Gilbert was well connected, including with the cardinal of Lyon.
“Damn it, get out of here at once!” he growled.
Gilbert took his hat, made a mocking bow, and sauntered out of the room. As soon as he was out of earshot, the prefect called the intendant.
“I couldn’t get anything out of Lesage. We’ve got to get Vichy to call the cardinal and pressure him to turn the children in.”
“I’ll call the prime minister right now,” Lucien Marchais answered.
* * *
An hour later, the president of the Republic, Marshal Pétain, called his friend Cardinal Gerlier. When his assistant alerted him to who was on the phone, Gerlier cleared his throat. He knew what the call would be about.
“My dear marshal, at your service.”
“It’s a pleasure to hear your voice, Your Eminence. A little problem has been brought to my attention. A group in Lyon has taken custody of a large number of children that the German government has claims on. I appreciate your zeal for the young, but the Germans have assured us that no harm will come to the children.”
The cardinal was quiet for a moment. He picked up his glasses from his desk and put them on. Before him was the letter he was drafting to distribute among the parishes of his diocese.
“My good marshal, I admire your efforts to steer France back to the path of Christianity. I know that you’re pressured from all sides. For you to call me about this matter indicates the depth of your concern. First, I want to beg you to protect these children. I do not trust the word of the Germans. They are capable of doing anything and everything to get their way. These children are French. Even more importantly, they are innocent.”
“I guarantee you that they will come to no harm.”
“Mr. President, it is not within your power to offer such a guarantee. Once they are beyond French borders, we can do nothing for them. My esteemed marshal, a Christian society cannot be built upon a foundation of tyranny, hatred, and disdain for life. Our Lord Jesus Christ himself was a Jew. Would you have deported him to Germany, Marshal? The church will do everything within her power to protect these children.”
It was the marshal’s turn to be silent.
“Is that your final answer, Cardinal?”
“The final answer is in God’s hands, sir, but if you are referring to whether or not I will reveal the whereabouts of the children, I will not do so even under torture.”
Marshal Pétain slammed the receiver down in fury. He looked up at his prime minister and said, “Laval, bring the full power of the state down on the accomplices of this treason.”
Laval saluted and left the room. Then the former war hero let loose a string of curses against the curates and prelates of his country. There was nothing of the savior of France left in Pétain. He was little more than a lackey in the Nazis’ hands, grasping at the smoking embers of a world that had fallen to pieces long ago. The marshal purported to represent all that was worth rescuing in France; in reality he was the symbol of the collaborationist regime eager to sell its soul to the devil to keep the French flag flying over history, however stained by blood, tears, and death it was.