A tremendous sister...

Photo of the inauguration of the 23rd Spahi memorial

and Marie-Antoinette Percie du Sert’s medals

My name is Marie-Antoinette Percie du Sert and I was born on the 18th of April, 1927.

I am the elder sister of four brothers and four sisters. When I was eight, my mother died, giving birth to my fourth sister. Since that day, I tried to be a second mother for my siblings. My role was to help them overcome their sadness and their despair, to help my father keep the house and take care of the children. I became the real woman of the house, worrying about all a mother should for the good of the family. I deeply loved my dear family! And I was ready to make all those sacrifices for them, to make them happy. My little brothers and sisters needed me. When they were crying in their bed, I was there, walking quietly through the door and sitting on their bed. Big sister Marie-Antoinette reassured them. I had to be strong and to make my brothers and sisters feel better. I was their only model and that’s why I would never cry in front of them.

Four years later, it was time for our father to join our mother in heaven. Now he watches over all of us. We were living in Morocco at that time. We had to go back to France, and we were separated. Some of us went to live with various aunts and uncles in the southeast and southwest of France, whereas Roger, Hubert, Jacqueline and I went with our grand-parents in Mayenne. I had made so much effort to keep our family together; our separation was heart-breaking. My grand-parents were tremendous but life wasn’t the same as before.

I obtained a nursing degree. My brother Ernest and I went together to Indochina during the war in that country. I was a nurse in Saigon, and Ernest was a non-commissioned officer in a Spahi regiment.

As we were about to leave the country and return to France, my dear brother had to go on a last mission. While I was waiting for his return, the squad he was in charge of drove into an ambush. My brother was reported missing, but we didn’t know if he was a prisoner or dead. After two years of trying to track him down, I went back to France. I continued my inquiries, questioning all the people liable to have information, collecting the testimonies of all the survivors of his squad. One said that he had seen him alive, standing on his tank; another testified that he had seen him dead. The most difficult thing was not knowing if he had died, or if he needed help to come home. He was considered officially still alive. It was my duty as a sister to keep looking for him. I prayed and never gave up.

In 1990, thanks to my efforts, a memorial was built, next to Toulon, in remembrance of the 23rd Spahi, my brother’s regiment. Since then, I have felt less tormented by his loss.

I then worked as a visiting nurse in Annecy. I still hoped for the return of my dear brother Ernest. I began to research my family’s genealogy and wrote a book on our family’s history since 1066, date on which one of our ancestors went with William the Conqueror to England. Every branch of the family has a copy of it.

I bequeathed my souvenirs, the things that have sentimental value, in particular the things related to my brother Ernest, his medals, and mine, to my nephew and godson, Hubert Percie du Sert.

Marie-Antoinette Percie du Sert died on June the 20th, 2015.

Article by Axelle PERCIE DU SERT

as a tribute to her great-aunt.