Sailing through life!

My name is Marie-Claude Duménil. I was born in the Bush of Tamatave, on the east coast of Madagascar, in 1936. Why wasn’t I living in France? Because my father was the director of the Malagasy colony until 1959, so I had to live there. I loved it, my life was so different from a child’s typical life. As I didn’t speak Malagasy, I didn’t go to school until 7th grade, so I was homeschooled and my mother would teach me everything. I didn’t have a lot of friends; consequently I was close to my mother, but also to my father, even if I couldn’t see him very often.

The very first time I went to France was in 1939; I was six years old. We travelled by boat for twenty two days, crossing the Suez Canal. It was crazy; I was incredibly lucky. We stayed for six months, and while we were there, I found that France was so different from Madagascar; they were two universes apart. And I have to say, every time I came to France during my childhood, I rather missed my lovely country…

From 8th grade to my first baccalaureate, I went to a religious school in Antananarivo, the capital of Madagascar. I really liked it and I made plenty of friends there. But, unfortunately, I had to move to Paris in 1952 to graduate from high school for the second time. I went to school in Neuilly. It was pleasant but I really missed the culture I grew up with, the country I had always lived in. But I couldn’t return to Madagascar because I had to go to college, and then find a job to start my new French life.

From 1954, I studied in college for three years to get my degree in Law. After obtaining it, I found a job as a legal advisor in Paris, in 1957. I thought it was a great, a very interesting job, because I worked with a famous lawyer: Mr. Badinter; it was he who had the death penalty abolished (in 1981) when he became Minister of Justice.

In 1958, I met the love of my life, Michel, a marine engineer. We got married after four incredible years. I stopped working in 1962 to be able to travel around with my husband everywhere in France for his job. Our first children, two beautiful girls, were born two years after, and then we had two boys in 1968 and 1969. When our four children were old enough, I decided to start working again in Paris. I did so until I retired in 1993.

By then, our children had started their own adult lives, and so Michel and I bought a sailboat and decided to travel around the world, especially in the Mediterranean, for seven months each year. After fourteen years of wonderful journeys, we had to sell our boat, to the great despair of our grandchildren, but we needed a calmer retirement, as we weren’t getting any younger!

I couldn’t dream of having had a happier life. We had to give up our boat, but I still travel to visit my beautiful children who live on three different continents. My husband and I have lived through the ups and downs of life, with our happy family and incredible friends. I’m happy with my simple and peaceful life.

Article by Blandine LOCHU

Looking back on my 71 years...

Mme Dondainas and a few members of her family

My name is Janine Dondainas, I was born in Saint-Amand-Roche-Savine, in the Auvergne, on the 18th of April 1945. I was born at a perfect time: right at the end of the Second World War. I lived out of town so my family and I weren’t affected by the restrictions. I’ve happy memories of my childhood; I grew up with brother who is two years younger than me. My parents took good care of us and took us to the countryside with all of our aunts and uncles.

School, especially high school, was a good time of my life, even if the discipline was strict. I especially enjoyed my French classes. Thanks to my parents’ encouragements, I was able to choose Literature studies and eventually become a French teacher. I really loved my job and the contact with teenagers, seeing them change and progress. It was a very gratifying job; it made me feel useful. I taught for thirty years in many different schools around Clermont-Ferrand such as in Ceyrat and Billom. I took my retirement in 2000 when I was 55 years old.

I’ve dedicated my whole life to the education of my own children too and that of my grandchildren. I have three boys and a girl, and fourteen lovely grandchildren who are between 1 and 27 years old. I really enjoy my retirement as I can now spend time with my kids and on my hobbies (the cinema, reading books, meeting up with my friends, travelling, etc.).

I am now 71. I have lived my life to the full and I am so proud of my family. I am convinced my children and grandchildren will all be happy, self-confident, successful, wonderful people.

I have done more or less everything that I wanted to do in life: I’ve met wonderful people, accomplished my most ambitious projects, and have been to all of the places I use to dream about. Obviously, sometimes I failed, but I try to remember only the good times!

Article by Jeanne BRIEU

An italian immigrant's story...

Gino Boncristiano and his grandchildren

I was born in Puglia, Italy, on January 20, 1938, during the Second World War. I grew up in a family of seven children. My father was a soldier and my mother did household chores in neighbours’ houses. We were poor and feeding ourselves everyday was quite difficult. As a result, as soon as we were old enough, we had to know how to get by in life and find food on our own.

When I was thirteen, having already lived through many difficult moments, I thought about leaving Italy. To emigrate to France, I needed my parents’ permission but they didn’t want to give it to me. In fact, they were frightened to let their son flee the country, alone, as I didn’t speak French and hadn’t had any professional experience yet. I was very independent-minded, and I thought going abroad was my only way to succeed. Despite my parents’ refusal, I sent my file to the Emigration Office. Six years later, the Emigration Office sent me back my file with a positive answer. Legally, I wasn’t yet considered an adult and I had to make my parents sign false documents to obtain their signature…

I left my city in 1958, penniless. When I arrived in Milan, the Emigration Office tested my abilities as a plasterer-painter to decide where I could be sent. They gave me 200 Francs and I obtained an employment contract in Baye, Nièvre, France. When I arrived in France, I became homesick because it was -15°C, it was snowing and I was living in the countryside. I didn’t have any choice but to force myself to learn French since I was the only Italian living there. My living conditions were deplorable; I lived in a shed without any heating. Moreover, the windows were broken and my boss “forgot” to pick me up most of the time from construction sites. I was forced to respect the contract’s conditions because the Emigration Office regularly wanted reports about immigrants’ behaviour...

Fifteen months later, I found another job in Corbigny, a village near Baye. I saw my future wife, Annie, for the first time. Her mother invited me to dinner a few days later. I was so happy; it was the first time since I had arrived in France that I felt accepted and loved. I married her in 1966 and have never let her go.

I was very involved in politics, and, at night, I put up posters for Mitterrand. In 1961, there were many problems with the OAS terrorist organization. All immigrants who took part in politics were sent back to their native country. At that time, I was working for a high-ranking officer and told him that I didn’t have French nationality. I was worried about being forced to move back to Italy. Eight days later, I officially became French thanks to this man.

In 1964, I decided to build my own house. To achieve my dream, I bought a  field at the top of a hill. I created my building firm and, after that, I bought 8,000 square meters around my house to create rentals. I built a house each time that my employees couldn’t work in other construction sites because I had to pay them each month. I named the hill “La Blanche Colline”.

Several years had passed since I had given any news to my family and, one day, I saw my mother in Corbigny; she had come from Italy to take me back! I still don’t know how she managed to find me to this day as she couldn't read. I think she did it because, protective mother as she was, she needed to be sure of the happiness of her son. When she saw I was happy and healthy, she accepted my decision to stay in France. But now, I often call her to prove that she made the right choice.

Now, after 58 years in France, I own a property which is worth quite a bit; I’m proud of my rags-to-riches story because, thanks to my willpower and my hard work, I have managed to fulfil my dream. I am the father of two daughters, and the most loved and proudest grand-father of three grandchildren. Each time I see their smiles it is the reward for my hard work and proves to me that I have made the right choices despite the many difficulties I have encountered.

Article by Chloé CORREIA

“He will ask us if we have used our strength to help our fellow man…”

Edmond Michelet, Minister for the Armies, 

giving a speech (1946)

Journalist’s note: I imagined this first-person narrative from my grandmother Monique's account of her father Papamond's life. The title is a quote by Saint-Jean-Marie Vianney (the "He" of the title refers to Edmond Michelet).

“I am Edmond Michelet but everybody calls me “Papamond” (i.e. “Papa Edmond”), not only my family but also the Council of Ministers!

I was born in1899. I was the eldest of four children. My parents sent me early to a Christian boarding school.

After the First World War, I arrived in Brive and worked for Catholic charities. They gave me values like wanting to help my fellow man. I have tried to apply these values throughout my life.

I met my Marie and we got married in 1922 in Brive. My first son, Jean, was born in 1923 then my first daughter, Christiane, in 1924. Geneviève came to the world in 1925. Monique, was born in 1927, Bernard in 1931, Yves in 1934 and Claude in 1938.

In 1940, I became the head of the Briviste maquis and took the name of “Duval”. For 3 years, lots of Jewish families went through our house.

But on the 25th February 1943, the Gestapo came to take me to prison. Marie was dignified as always. The children stayed inside as I did not want them see. For six months, I was in Fresnes jail. My family kept in touch by hiding little messages in the potatoes that they sent me. Once, the German jail chaplain, Abbot Stock, told me, while we were reciting the “Hail Marie”: “Hail Mary, full of grace… Your wife is well… The Lord is with thee… your kids too… Blessed art thou amongst women… They asked me to tell you they love you…”

29th april 1945: the liberation of the camp.

The journalist Claude Dauphin interviewing ( from left to right )

Edmond Michelet, Vincent Badie (a politician)

and Armand Fily (a priest)

In 1943, I was deported as a political prisoner to Dachau. I was n° 52579. I tried to help and bring solace to my fellow prisoners. After the camp’s liberation, on the 29th of April 1945, I planned, with the Americans, the repatriation of the French.

Soon after my return, I was called up by General de Gaulle to hold the post of Minister of the Army. We lived in the Départment de la Marine; in the Place de la Concorde (Paris). I did not see the family much because I had lots of international obligations. I became the French delegate to the UN from 1953 to 1957. I traveled to Indochina, Tunisia, Algeria, and Madagascar. We moved to Rue Madame in the 6th arrondissement of Paris.

In 1957, I wrote my book Contre la guerre civile (“Against the civil war”) to denounce what was happening in Algeria. In 1959, I became the first garde des sceaux (Minister of Justice) of the 5th Republic. I held the post until 1961. I worked hard with General De Gaulle to make a success of the 5th Republic. I joined the Constitutional Council in 1962. That same year, I was raised to the dignity of Commandeur de la Légion d’Honneur.

1939, on holiday in Biarritz with his seven children

I have lived a wonderful life thanks my family and my friends, to the General, to Louis Terrenoir and Charles de Foucault, and so many others…

I entitled my autobiography Rue de la Liberté (“Freedom Street”). Rue de la Liberté was the name given to the main road through Dachau…”

Article by Thibault RIVIERE

Accounting for life...

Nairobi street scene, 1930s

My name is Michael Gontier. I was born in 1930 in Nairobi, the capital of Kenya, a country in the south-west of Africa. 

We were eight boys. My father was a dark-skinned man, whereas my mother was a fair-skinned woman. My father was working out of Nairobi, in a place called Kisumu. At the age of eight, I went to school. I had nobody to help me do my homework. Though I tried hard, I found learning my lessons difficult.

When I was twelve, my father died, aged thirty three. My mother was completely alone and had to look after eight brothers on just a nanny's salary… Four of my brothers died when they were still children.

At fourteen, I had to quit school to help my mother pay the bills. I started working as an apprentice motor mechanic. At the age of seventeen, I went to work as an electrician and, a year later, as a fridge mechanic. I did that for two years.

I was spotted by a British gentleman called Mr Bauer. He was an auditor who declared that I should be working in an office, doing clerical work. I can remember that I was very surprised at his offer. I told him that I had dropped out of school and that I had virtually no education. He asked me if I could do simple maths: add, subtract and divide. This, I told him, I could do.

On 2nd January 1951, I was told to come and report to Mr Bauer’s office. I did so and I was given a desk. I did simple clerical work. In my fourth year, I became office supervisor, in charge of fourteen clerks. A year later, I was asked to head the accounts department. Mr Bauer was transferred to the UK on a promotion, and another gentleman took over. I was unhappy working with him and so, after six years, I quit the firm.

I got a job working for the Kenyan government as an Assistant Accounts Auditor. After two years, I was told that I had to take charge of the Audit Department. I audited all payment vouchers.

After two years in charge of the Audit Department, the Permanent Secretary of the Ministry told me that I should go to University. I studied for eighteen months after which I became a qualified civil servant, entitled to a pension. It felt like a dream come true!

I reported to the Kenyan Treasury. As an accountant, I ran the Exchequer and produced weekly financial statements. After two years, I was promoted to Accountant Grade One and I headed the Pension Division. I worked there for three years. I left the government six years later and joined a firm of auditors.

After a year with the firm, I was told to run the office and look after the business because the boss had to go to Europe for medical attention. I did so for three years. I was ordered to audit the Catholic University of Eastern Africa. I carried out the daily duties of the accounts department there.

Two years later, I left my job with the auditors and joined the University permanently as the Executive Officer in charge of finances. I worked there for five years.

I am now a peaceful pensioner, enjoying life in Paris with my beloved daughter and a wonderful son-in-law.

Article by Aurélie BERTHAUD

A courageous woman...

My name is Andrée Lebas. I was born on the 13th of October 1919 in Saint-Etienne, in France. At that time, people were recovering from the war and working to rebuild the country. My mother and my father were factory workers. I had a big brother and a little sister. Some of our friends were really poor but I never needed for anything as my parents were thrifty.

My childhood was quite normal, despite the fact that I lost my sister when she was two. I still talk to her when I miss her. I loved her a lot. She was my only real friend. I grew up close to Nature. My mother used to take a saucepan with us when we went for a walk in the forest. We filled the pan with things we found to make our dinner more interesting. Supplementing our meals in this way helped us to save money. As jobs were rare we had to move a lot. Every time one of our family members lost his job, we packed and moved. It was all about all having jobs to be sure to have enough money to survive.

I went to school. Learning was a pleasure that I wanted to share with all of my friends and the family members that couldn’t go to school. As my mother was working, I took care of my little sister. I was just seven years old when she died. I am still angry and sad about her death. Every time I talk about her I cry. After her death I took the decision to take care of people all my life and to work hard to be able to be a real lady later.

I stopped school when I was fourteen. Unemployment was getting higher every day and we needed money. I worked as a weaver in a factory. My mother and I shared the same post. When she was at the factory, I did the house work. My mother and I were promoted quite quickly. I continued studying on my own time. All my family loved reading and learning. We used to borrow books because it was cheaper. Those years were part of my happy ones.

The Second World War started and it was sometimes harder for us, civilians, than for our soldiers: bombing, diseases, fear. Part of France was occupied, but I was not afraid, I was excited! I decided to become a member of the Résistance. I was a messenger. I hid secret papers in the handlebars of my bicycle. Once, I was pushing my bike along the side of the road because it was broken. I bumped into a German soldier who offered to help me push my bike all the way home. I accepted! I didn’t know anything of the contents of these documents, and I still don’t know anything about them, because, if I was caught by the Germans, I could say, without lying, that I didn’t know anything about them! My grandmother was mad at me because my behaviour used to frighten her. During bombings, she insisted that I take shelter down in the cellar, but I didn’t want to go; I said preferred to die proudly in my own bedroom. I had decided at the beginning of the war that I was going to stay a real patriot.

After the war, I went to Paris because they needed help there. I spent a few sad years in Paris. Then, I met Eugène, the love of my life. He was a tall, strong man with black hair and dark eyes. He was really sweet but serious at the same time, really proud and down-to-earth. He was humble and a pious Catholic too. He used to go to mass every day. I finally married him in 1946. I became the lady I wanted to become. We had twin daughters. We travelled a lot to discover the world. We made a success of running several hairdressing salons. I was really happy and in love.

Though my prince passed away, I still say good morning and good night to him and talk to him every day. I am the same woman, still stubborn and humble, just older. I have six grandchildren and twenty great-grandchildren. I have Alzheimer’s, but I stay proud. I still walk alone. My nails are always done (never forget your nails, ladies!). At 95, you can still be a woman...

Journalist's note: My great-grandmother died on 10th December 2015 after being sick for several weeks. She was a model for all my family.

Article by Alix-Marie DARDEN

The greatest great-grandmother!

Anna, June 2010, a few weeks before she died

Journalist’s note: I wrote the following article largely from what I remember of the stories Anna used to tell me...

My name is Anna. I've been lucky to have been very happy in my life. I've lived with a wonderful husband, I have beautiful and talented children, and I've done everything in my power to make this life easier and better for everyone I love.

I was born on the 17^th august 1913 in Pfastatt. I’ve spent all my life in the Alsace. God knows it wasn’t easy every day. I grew up a few kilometers from the battle fields, in a family impoverished and bereaved by war. I hated the Germans as much as I hated the French. My father fought on the French side. I remember spending hours, during my early years, my nose to the window waiting for him. He never came back. I grew up without my daddy. I helped my mother, Victorine, on the farm, and I took care of my little brother.

By the time I reached school age, I had already met Joseph, your great-grandfather. When I saw him for the first time he was throwing pebbles against a tree on the other side of the wall, at the boys’ school. We grew up and graduated. Then we got married on October the 24th in 1937, we were both twenty four years old. It was certainly the most beautiful of day of my life.

By the time your grandfather was born, in August 1938, our life was wonderful. It was just like the entire world had opened its arms to us. We couldn’t imagine that only one year later, we would be plunged back into the horror of war…

Joseph went to the battle fields. He fought for France but I know that secretly in his head he was neither French nor German. On the 30th of September 1941, two men in uniform knocked on the door. I hid my children and, as I saw that these two soldiers had the tricolor flag sewn on their chests, I cried. The tears came streaming down my face, I opened the door and they told me my husband had been made prisoner by the German army in Flanders…

And here is something I'm proud of; here is what I want to tell you. I took the first train, the one which stops in Lille. You might know that we were not rich and that travelling was rare and expensive, people never left their native town, your grandfather did not see the ocean before his 20th birthday, but that's not the subject.

So, I took this train, I got off at Lille, and I walked. I walked for an entire week, following the rails so as not to get lost. My ankles ached and hunger gnawed at my stomach. It was hard to sleep; I only thought about my husband. I feared the state in which I would find him. I remember every detail of that journey, each gust of wind that hurt my face, each sound of the waves hitting the rocks on the coast. With each step I took I became more aware of the mistake I was making and that I would not survive. But I was too much in love to give up…

When I arrived in Flanders, thirteen days after the soldiers' passage, I was greeted by French Resistance fighters. To liberate Joseph, I had to negotiate with the German authorities. They gave me his freedom against his promise not to return to fight for France and to come and work in Germany. You can say that that is a horrible end but, you know, war is the worst invention of the human race. We went home, together, and that was the best ending I could expect. This story makes me proud; I had freed my man from the clutches of the Nazis.

Article by Alice EMBERGER

The “Archange”

My name is Joseph Rousseau. I was born in “La Flocellière” in Vendée on the 8th of June 1942. My brothers are called Michel, Daniel, and Jean-Marie. We worked with our father in the family business.

Since the 15th of August 1897, “l’Archange Saint Michel” has been protecting our district from the top of its bell tower. For sixty years, it bravely had to cope with storms.

In 1901, and again in 1932, a wing broke away from the Archangel. The repair was done by my grandfather and my father, who were zinc roofers at “La Flocellière”.

A few years later, I was also a zinc roofer and I was asked to clean the dragon and to repaint it. The year before, I had to climb up to the “Archange” to straighten the spear.

After a violent storm, on the 8th of February 1957, the statue tilted slightly. The iron master beam weighing 410 kg was twisted because of the rust.

Very quickly, the mayor decided to take down the statue and to entrust it to my family who knew the statue. Scaffolding was set up at the top of the bell tower but the hardest part remained to be done. The statue was 9,2 meters tall, composed of nine pieces atttached to each other by 600 screws. Slowly but surely, we took down the statue and took it to our workshop. The repairs lasted two years.

In July 1961, the statue was taken down once again and put piece by piece in front of the church in order to allow helicopter transportation.

On Monday 7th of August, our company began putting up the scaffolding. At the end of that week, the first launch pad was installed so as to get the master beam. On Saturday 13th of August, the “Alouette II” helicopter came, flown by Mr Charles Schmitt.

Everything was ready. The hardest thing to do was to put the master beam at the top of the church. This first operation was carried out on Monday 14th of August at 6am. The weather was splendid, there was very little wind. We could work in favourable conditions. My father, my brothers and I were on the launch pad, waiting for the master beam.

The helicopter took off with its 410 kg charge. It was impressive and very dangerous… After a few scares, we managed to stabilize the beam which had arrived at the height of the launch pad. After that, we had to install the second part of the scaffolding in order to build the second launch pad.

On the morning of August 15th, the village was in great excitement. Everybody was coming to watch. It was incredible, I had never seen this before! Stands were built everywhere. People parked their cars in the meadow. Streets were shut to stop cars getting through.

We were on the launch pad trying to fix the last pieces in when we looked down on the village full of people. My heart was beating so fast. All of these people were there to see our work. At the end of the morning, the great celebration began. We were told after that there were approximately 30,000 people present!

The helicopter delivered the last pieces of the “Archange” and the pilot turned his machine around so as to show the spectators the pieces. It was 17:00. I was very tired but we had nearly finished. The “Archange” was the most important piece. Everybody was watching us. The helicopter gave us the precious burden and there was an explosion of joy. Needless to say, it was a fantastic event at the time.

My family and I were so proud. I jumped into my brothers’ arms. We had done it!

My brothers, my father and I had to continue assembling the pieces laid out on the launch pad. We had to put them one by one onto the master beam and screw them together. We had been working for three weeks to make sure the statue returned to its original state.

I was so happy I had done this work with my family. It was an extraordinary experience. It’s partly thanks to us that La Vendée still has its highest statue looking after our region. 

Article by Guillaume HUTIN,
grandson of Joseph Rousseau

A pioneer of agriculture...

M. Magne

My name is Marcel Magne and I was born in 1935 in Arches, a small village in the Cantal which is a beautiful region in the middle of France. I grew up during the 40s, with my brother Jean, surrounded by forest and fields. We were a small but dynamic farming community. My family was specialized in cow breeding.

When I was seven, my father was away fighting the Germans. He was caught and made captive. They sent him to Germany to work in their farms, as a prisoner. It was a strenuous time both mentally and physically for him, of course, but also for us at home waiting from sunrise to sunset for his return. Growing up without knowing if your father was alive was a terrible ordeal for me and the rest of my family.

In 1946, my father came home. Captivity had left its mark on him. However, he learned about their research. "They are fifteen years ahead in agriculture and breeding", he said. This was true since, in our region, progress had been slow. There are places far more advanced than we are so we decided that if we did not modernize then we would be left behind. We didn't even have running water in the house...

Progress was slow. In the 60s, the first tractor came. It was nothing compared to the ones today, of course, but it was a revolution on our family farm. We could have more fields, and by 1967, our surface had doubled.

I wanted to continue my father's work and his idea of progress. We built another stable in addition to the previous one. But we weren't rich enough to equip it totally. In fact, we had one trough for two stables. A problem? A solution. Every day we made the cows drink in the first stable, then we disassembled it and reassembled it in the second stable. Yes, it's not a job for lazy people!

During that time, I got married and we had four children: Nathalie, Marie-Pierre, Anne-Marie and Emmanuel. The last two are twins.

The next development came from my son Emmanuel, who went to an agricultural college and did an internship in a company: France Embryon. This company was new and carried out embryo sampling on cattle. That was exactly what we needed. Let me explain. In Auvergne, we have different breeds of cows, but two are interesting for meat production: the “Salers” and the “Charrolais”. We discovered by chance that a hybrid of them had a better tasting meat than the others. It had to have 50% exactly of each breed, if not, the resulting meat was not as tasty. The problem was that pure-breed Salers were rare and expensive. Moreover, a cow can only have two or three veals in its life. So here was our dilemma: either we made quality meat by having hybrids (and no pure-breed Salers for the next generation), or we bred Salers together. However, in case of the latter, the meat was far less tasty… Like I said, the solution came from embryo science: a cow can produce ten embryos from one fertilization. You can use them to inseminate another cow. And here lies the interest: whatever the breed of the inseminated cow is, the veal has the breed of its biological parents. In our situation, we could get pure-breed Salers using a hybrid cow which we had inseminated.

To work with France Embryon, my neighbours and I set up an association. It was a real success: I had both hybrids and pure-breed Salers. At the "Salon de l'Agriculture" in Paris, "Le Monde" wrote an article about me: I was among the first breeders to use this process. It was published in 1973 and by midday all the newspapers had been sold out!

I continued my work, and I got some great pedigrees: my best achievement as a breeder was a Saler that I sold in Scotland for one million Francs, and it won many contests there.

Today I'm no longer at the cutting edge of progress, but I keep running my farm with my son. I also had the great good fortune of having nine wonderful grandchildren. Last year, one of my daughters invited me to South Africa, it was amazing.

I have lived 80 years of a blessed life and I intend to enjoy it for a few more!

Article by Guillaume ANDRIEUX

Dr Maria...

I was born in Grzegorzewo, which was at the time a small village in the Polish countryside, at the end of 1935.

I had a peaceful childhood until the age of eight. But, from April to September 1943, the battle front crossed our region and included our village. We had to leave our home, bury our goods and run away, the fighting being just a few miles from us. As we didn’t find a safe place immediately; we hid in the forest an entire day. Those hours were the longest of my life. I remember being petrified with fear, the deafening sounds of shells echoing through my head and lost bullets whistling past above me.

We lived this way for six months, sleeping in stables, helping my mother with the injured soldiers who were begging for help, playing with dead corpses washed up on the river bank…

But the worst was yet to come. In December 1943, the Soviet police arrested my father and deported him to the Gulag somewhere in Siberia, leaving us behind. To survive, my mother and I went door to door, selling oil we had previously bought in town. As soon as we had saved a little, we would send a package to my father with some food so that he didn’t starve to death.

The years passed by. In 1946, I learned that I had a diseased hip. After a few months, I couldn’t move around anymore. I spend two years in Vilnius hospital. Finally, my leg healed, but it hadn’t grown during the illness, so it was shorter than the other. To avoid limping, I put a piece of wood in my shoe. The pain never really left…

After three years, three months and eight days, I could finally hold my father in my arms again. He had survived.

We lived the following years in misery, but we were grateful: war was over, my father had come back, and we had all survived. Communism was running the country. Our region became Lithuanian. I had to learn Russian to go to school. I remember it was not easy because I had always studied at home: school and teachers were something new but I tried to do my best and finally graduated.

In 1956, as the border between Poland and Lithuania reopened, I decided to leave the country which no longer felt my own. I managed to get a scholarship to study in Warsaw. When I had come out of the hospital a decade earlier, I said to the nurses I wanted to be a hero, just like them. Therefore, I entered the Medical University of Warsaw. I was starting a new life.

The rest of my existence was much like many other people’s. I got my diploma and worked as a pneumologist in hospitals. I met a lovely man at a dance who became my husband. We had two adorable children, Ania and Piotrek. I remember when we spent holidays camping in the North, in the forests, near lakes; those were good times. I guess we were just a happy family.

The years passed by. My children grew up. One left for France, the other comes and visits once or twice a week. We built a vacation house for our grandchildren, who used to spend the whole of summer with us.

I’ve never stopped working; even today I practice three times a week in my medical office.

I’m 80 years old now. I am happy with the life I had, even if there were hard times. I’ve learned that my own happiness rests on others, that is why I’ve done my best to help every person I meet. If I had a piece of advice to give it would be to remember to enjoy every moment, because life flies by so fast!

Article by Alexandra CROIZET

Life is but a dream...

Mme Oger

I was born on the first of May 1947 and my name is Marie-José Oger. It may seem like quite a common identity but I managed at least to fulfill my dream. Since I was a child, holding a pen has for me been something magical and gratifying. At that time we didn’t have paper, but my fervent desire to draw and write led me to express myself on anything I could get my hands on, including for example the house wallpaper! Despite many reprimands from my father, I couldn’t help myself. He decided to cover all the walls with Lino but it didn’t matter because the doors were enough for me. My father understood that nothing could stop me. In an effort to tame me, he began to take me around with him, to teach me various tasks. He taught me to dig the garden, paint the walls, help around the house, etc. These activities were for men, but I enjoyed them!

My mother also played a very important role in my life. She was very busy because of my little sisters, so she wasn’t often able to listen to me but this suited me well enough. I was successful in school, with always one idea in my mind: to make my parents proud of me. Quickly I was entrusted with “big girl” responsibilities. I was able to get to know my mother better and we become more close. She had real maternal gestures and was loving despite her disability. Indeed, my mother never learned to read or write but she said she had never wanted to do so anyway.

I realized how lucky I was to study. Then I decided one thing: later, I would be a teacher and I would teach children how to read and write and to my mother too, so it would perhaps make her life easier and help her discover new things. My mother said she was too old to learn and it wasn’t easy but she did. I decided to apply the same learning methods with my pupils.

My goal was reached: teaching children reading and writing. Actually, sharing my passion was wonderful. Conveying all this knowledge was essential for these children, and it allowed them to receive a gift they would use throughout their lives. It was fascinating to see how each child is different and learns as he wants. I felt useful, even essential, for others. This job was for me what I loved most in the world.

Then the years passed, I had a family, and my children learned to read very quickly. Later, retirement came but it was unthinkable for me to stop doing what l loved. I was bursting with ideas and my imagination was at its peak. The idea came to me to start writing a book, but not just any old novel. It was my gift to my mother for her eighty years, and was the first novel she ever fully read. It is called “La tartine au beurre” (“buttered toast”). Through this book I wanted to thank my parents for teaching me values such as respect and tolerance, essential principles that I later found in my music group.

I joined the Concert Band of Vic-le-Comte twenty five years ago. It is an association where we play music in the community. This association dates from 1865 and has never ceased to exist. The band is made up of a hundred musicians who share each week a common passion: music. Many pieces are played to entertain a large audience. So I decided to write a second book entitled “3 coeurs à la clef” (“Three hearts on the key signature”). It is an account of this association’s 150 year history. I wrote it also to demonstrate that, at a community level, there are values such as respect, tolerance, sharing, friendship, as well as plenty of emotions. When you read in between the “notes”, we discover a beautiful love story!

I then decided to write a third book. The story takes place in a country school made up of just one class, twenty three pupils, including three heroes, or rather their schoolbags. The schoolbags have the ability to speak, preserve, transport, etc. But this is only the beginning of the story…

If I have a piece of advice, it is: believe in your dreams! This is a bit of a cliché, but it sums up my life rather well. I am proud to say that my life was like a dream in which I did what I wanted to do!

Article by Emilie DURAND

A courageous fighter...

Our little house in Savoie

My name is Jean-Claude Buisson. I was born on the 12th of May 1943 in Modane. I grew up there, and I knew almost everybody in the village. I learnt about life there. I did my military service there too, which was an experience I didn’t particularly appreciate.

When I met my wife, I was 23 and she was 17. One year later we got married. When I announced to my family that I would marry this young and beautiful woman, who lived in the Allier, they were surprised because it was quite bizarre to marry a girl who was not from the region. This event was the beginning of a new life for me, because I had to move to my wife’s region. We had two children, Isabelle, who was born on the 12 July 1967, and Dominique, who was born on the 28th July 1972.

We built a house in Diou, which is a very smart village, near what is Le Pal today. I was an electrician, so I had to travel around France a lot. I also went to many foreign countries, like Egypt and Italy. I could only see my two daughters at the week-ends. That’s certainly the most important regret in my life.  But I had to earn money to feed my family.  But I was very happy because my wife looked after them. Our two beautiful and wonderful daughters became mothers, and we have four grandchildren who are our pride and joy.

The best days of my life were the births of my grandchildren. Two of them are German, because my eldest daughter married a German. The first one was born on the 12th of February 1998, and the other on the 19th of October 2001. And the two others are French, both born on the 23th November 1999 as they are twins. They are the two I share the most with, because the distance between Germany and the Allier is really big.

For nearly ten years, during the 1980s and the 1990s, we rebuilt a chalet which dates from the 1840s in the high mountains of Savoie. This place is very special because the Germans stayed there during the Second World War. Ten meters away, there is a very impressive shell hole. This little chalet was at that time the only thing that linked me to my old friends. When I retired, I wanted to make up for lost time. I knew it was too late for my daughter, but I wanted to be the best grandfather. So when my grandchildren were young we went there every year. They loved this place. In fact, I think that I’ve spent the best moments with my family there, even if it was quite drastic, because there was no comfort at all.  But they loved it and I’m quite proud of it.

As I said, I was an electrician. As such, I was exposed to a toxic substance: asbestos. I didn’t know that I was exposed to it for so many years because the company I worked for never mentioned it. In 2008, the bad news fell: I was diagnosed as having lung cancer. It was terrible for me. I had to do chemotherapy every three weeks. It made me sick for almost a week every time. I was also really sad, because I had just began to take care of my grandchildren, but I tried not to show it. I wanted them to have good memory of me. So I decided to fight for them, and for the rest of my family. I also filed a claim against the company. No one ever won a trial against them, so I knew that it would be a difficult thing to achieve, but I was quite confident because I knew they were wrong.

For four years I fought the cancer, and the company. I won my trial, and I’m quite proud of it, but unfortunately for my family, I lost against the illness...

Article by Simon MERCIER

Mother courage...

La Grange Neuve Farm, June 1994

My name is Marie Thérèse Combelle. I was born on the 8th of November 1939. As I was born at the start of the War, I didn’t meet my father until I was six years old. My mother told me that for more than three years, I refused to consider him as my father. I only started getting closer to him when I was eight.

When my father was mobilised, we were living in Paris. My mother decided to go back to her village in the Cantal. We lived in her brother’s farm, because my mother couldn’t manage to take care of me alone in Paris. My mother helped her brother in his large farm, La Grange Neuve.

I have two brothers and a sister. My two brothers are Jean and Raymond, named after my grandfathers’ names. And my sister is Andrée. We lived happily until I was seventeen. My father got cancer because of his detention in the labor camp during the War. He passed away within two months.

At the age of 24, I left my family and got married to Louis De Conquand. We lived in his parents’ house after their deaths. We took over the running of the family farm. I knew how to run a farm thanks to my upbringing.

We had four children: Martine and Annie, and Michel and Jean-Francois. We were never rich; we always had to be careful what we spent. When my husband was 56 years old, my first girl Martine left us for her job. She became a policewoman. My husband’s health got worse. Doctors diagnosed liver cancer. Louis succumbed after four months. His death was heart breaking for the entire family.

I was 53 when my husband died. I managed to run the farm for two years. With Martine and Jean-Francois gone, and two children still in my care, it was complicated. Martine sometimes helped. These were the most difficult years of my life. As I wasn’t able to manage alone and couldn’t ask my two children to stay in the family home, I decided to sell the animals and put all the meadows out to rent. My children encouraged me to take the driving test, to be more autonomous. My second boy left us to go to Clermont-Ferrand and became a cabinet maker. Finally, Annie left me to continue her studies in London.

This year, I will be 77. I live happily. If I feel lonely, I simply call up my children and I’m quickly back up on my feet again. I have seven grandchildren, aged three to twenty, who give me much love and joy: Mathilde, Louise, Léa, Maxime, Eva, Arthur and Alice. They really make me laugh each time I meet them.

I only have two regrets. The first is that my last girl, Annie, lives in Berlin with her family, and so I don’t see her more than twice a year. My second regret is the fact that my grandchildren never got to know their grandfather, Louis.

I now spend all day long in my garden, or I travel with the senior citizen’s club, or help my neighbours. I consider that my life is nearly over, and I hope that my children and grandchildren will continue to fight, like I did, so as to be proud of their lives.

Article by Louise VIGOUROUX,
Mme Combelle’s granddaughter

A humble life...

Mme Buisson

My name is Marine BUISSON and I was born on the 1st of November 1915 in Modane, a little town in Savoie. I lived in Le Bourget until I was 45 years old. I married Vincent BUISSON on the 2nd of July 1927. I had three children with him. The first one was Jean-Claude who was born on the 13th of July 1943. The second one was born on the 19th of May 1949 and I called him René. The third was called Renée (I will explain why later).

During my childhood, I always helped my father Dominique on our farm. But, I wasn't as lucky as my brothers Fernand and Benjamin because I had to go back to school on the 3rd of September, unlike them who returned to school in October because they had to help my father to bring the cows back to the village because of the snow in the mountain pasture. I was a very calm girl even if I was quite impulsive. I was a good pupil and, being the only girl in my family, my mum Adèle gave me everything so as to have a good husband and a good life.

I met Vincent, my husband, in 1925 during a village fete. He was from Le Bourget, so my family accepted him quite readily (it was frowned upon to get married to someone from outside the Vallée de la Maurienne).

I am of the generation which went through the War as adults. It was a very difficult time for Vincent and me, even if we were lucky to be together (as he wasn't able to fight). I lost so many friends during this war; it was a very difficult time because we always feared for our friends.

As I said before, I had three wonderful children. René died in 1953 of measles and my husband and I were just devastated. We kept on fighting though for our son Jean-Claude. In 1955, we chose to have another child and I really wanted to have a girl. On the 13th of March, this wonderful event happened as Renée was born. We chose her name in honor of René of course. I really wanted a girl because I felt quite alone in the house. I’m very proud of Jean-Claude because he was always determined to work for all the family. And, when my husband died of cancer, he didn’t hesitate to go to the factory to earn money even though he was only 14 years old. 

In 1965, my son Jean-Claude got married to Marie-Claude. In 1967, they had their first daughter, Isabelle. She was very clever and intelligent, as was her sister Dominique who was born in 1972. They visited me every holiday. They both had two boys. Dominique had twins. I see Dominique’s sons more often because Isabel’s sons live in Germany so it’s very difficult for them to come to Savoie.

I lived with my son Jean-Claude from 85 to 90 years old. When I turned 95, I went to the retirement home to be closer to Renée as she didn’t have a “real” family other than me. She was with me every day. She helped me to keep healthy by walking a little bit every day.

I have not always been favored by life, but I always managed with the support of all my family.

Marine BUISSON died at the age of 99.

Article by Vincent MERCIER