Jean Mathieu
Born in 1923
Lapoutroie, April 7th 2001
My name's Jean Mathieu. I was born in 1923. Our family is one of the oldest in Lapoutroie. We're in the parish records from 1650 on. Moreover, we're in the Welche canton, it means we don't speak the Alsatian dialect; the dialect here is the patois from the Vosges as it is spoken in Gérardmer or in Saint-Dié.
I was born here, I was at nursery school and primary school in Lapoutroie. Then, in '35, I went to secondary school for 3 years. When war started I stopped going to school. Since we couldn't speak German we were arrested.
So, when I think about our childhood, two things struck me. Firstly, the end of the 1914-1918 War. My father had fought in Verdun: the only satisfaction he had was work. He was pleased to get out of the trenches and of all the things he'd seen during these four years; he was happy to work. The first thing is people were happy war was over.
The second thing dates back to 1933. We heard things. We were ten 10 years old and we weren't interested in politics. We had no TV, no radio, newspaper only once a week, but we heard things about the revival of National Socialism, of Nazism, in Germany… People talked about it a lot. They always spoke about war. We were born with these echoes: "There'll be war once again"… Whereas young people today would say: "There's a war in Kosovo, not round here". For us, it was right here, war, the Germans.
At that time in Alsace, around 1930, a political party was reviving, the separatists: it was a pro-German party, but it wasn't a Nazi party. It was more or less encouraged by the French laws that some had wanted to implement in Alsace around 1925: the secular laws for religious instruction. We know that Alsace had kept its local status -with German laws dating back to 1880 - whereas in France, there was a clear-cut separation between State and Church… So, since the Alsatians - catholic or protestant - were religious and faithful persons all the same, there was an unfavourable response to the French laws which wanted to apply secularism in Alsace. From then on, the separatist party throve: that Germanist party wasn't a Nazi party.
All that stuff before 1940, before the rising of Nazism. In '38, we said: "There won't be war". Chamberlain, Daladier, they were in Munich to sign the treaty…
And then, bang! Germany invaded Czechoslovakia, Sudetes, Poland… and France. Then we were in '40. The French army said: "Because of the Maginot line, the Germans won't be able to cross the border. We're strong, we're the strongest" … The Germans came and as soon as they were there, Alsace and Lorraine were annexed; not occupied, such as the rest of France, but downright annexed. There's a major difference between annexation and occupation. And were annexed. The currency was changed as if we were in Germany. Here we had German marks; it was the German system.
What struck me most after the war are tourists in self-catering cottages coming from all the regions of France, from the south, from the north, from the east, from everywhere… we talked to them about the problem of this war. Now, a bit less, but about twenty years ago, most of them ignored what had happened in Alsace, and how we had been annexed.
It was like a chain from A to Z. Firstly, the Germans came and we were annexed; then schools became totally German - no more French schools.
Here in Lapoutroie, the Welche canton, classes were bilingual before 1914. We've always had bilingual classes: French and German. My mother, who was born in 1989, was sent to school until World War I. She perfectly knew how to write in German and in French, both languages. At that time, the Germans in the canton were tolerant. Whereas in the canton of Kaysersberg, teaching was in German only. Here, since people spoke French, some meetings of the town council were held in French, even if some were German. They tolerated it.
Whereas in 1940, teaching was directly and exclusively in German, with pro-Nazi teachers, fanatics transferred in the villages: they had to be fanatic Nazis. If they hadn't been, they would have been sent to the Russian front. So, they brought their fanaticism along to transform Alsace into a German land. We lived under these conditions.
One fine day, around June 18th '40, I wasn't 17 yet; all the French troops walking down were taken prisoner by the Germans going up to the valley. We were crying. We told ourselves: "What's going to happen?" It was the rout.
1940-1941 were rather quiet years. It's only around 1942, when we had a Gauleiter [in German in the original] in Strasbourg, that the Germans started enlisting people in the Arbeitsdienst [in German in the original; compulsory labour organisation set up in 1943 during the German occupation of France]. But it wasn't Arbeitsdienst at all, it was a military training course downright. Instead of a gun we had a shovel. For three months, we did the exercise as if we had a gun. Then we were enlisted in the German army. We had to take the oath under the German flag: from then on we were considered as German. We didn't take the oath at all! We still kept a French flag and while they were singing the German songs we sang the Marseillaise [
the French national anthem]
on the sly.
In August '42, they decided to enlist the drafts in the German army. It started with the '22 draft. One draft after the other, medical board, then call up in the German army.
It must be said that in '40 or '41, young men left, fled. At that time there were not yet retaliations because there was no enlistment in the German army. People crossed the crest, went to the Vosges, then further to the South of France, slightly everywhere. They could leave without being worried.
But when the enlistment began, the situation changed. There were guards on the borders. The one who was caught red handed while trying to escape was sent to a concentration camp. Worse, all his family ran the risk of being sent to a concentration camp in Poland. We knew exactly what would happen. That's why very few Alsatians didn't join the German army.
In '42, the compulsory labour organisation… at that time we said : "The compulsory labour organisation isn't the army, let's go and, well, we'll see". We left in October, and were back in December.
As soon as we got home we received the marching orders to be enlisted in the German army in January '43. At the time, a lot of young men hesitated: "What are we going to do? Are we going or not?" But the same question came again and again: "What's going to happen if we cross the border? The whole family will have to pay for it". So we said: "We're going to sacrifice ourselves so that our families won't be bothered". And that's all. The Alsatians resigned to it because they wanted to avoid retaliations against their family. And so, we left.
I received my marching orders in '42, at Christmas, for '43 : I was going to be a grenadier in Czechoslovakia. I didn't know what to do: I hesitated… I didn't want to flee because of my parents. I said to myself: "I'll have to find another trick". A self-inflicted injury might be the solution.
At the time, we produced cheese in the farmhouse. We cooked the whey to give it to the calves and cows as supplementary food. It was cooked on the cooker in the kitchen.
In the meantime we scalded the wooden moulds for the cheese. We poured the whey into moulds. I took a bucket of boiling whey, and deliberately spilled it on my right leg. I was burnt from top to bottom. I don't know the degree of my burn.
It was an accident. We went down to see the doctor, perhaps on a sleigh. The doctor said: "I'm embarrassed because in the region you're the seventh in a fortnight or a month… one had cut himself into his arm; another… things like that. So the doctor said: "That's embarrassing, I'll see what I can do".
He was a German with German feelings. He'd studied in Germany before WW1 and had been an officer in the German army before WW1. He supported the German culture but he wasn't a Nazi, a two-faced person. He treated me. And thanks to him, since he also was the mayor, I wasn't bothered…
Whereas in other villages, there were similar cases of self-inflicted injuries without being able to prove it. They were directly sent to a military hospital in Colmar. As for me, I was lucky to stay home for 7 months.
Which put the thing back to August '43, I received another marching orders for the German navy. There were several others like me in the region, especially men who were ten years older. I was 20; and the others 30 or so. They'd all been in the French navy for ten years; then came back, got married and got kids… It was always the same thing: if they fled, their wife would be sent to a concentration camp. That's the reason why they left too. I found myself in Eastern Prussia, in Deutschkrone (?) I don't know if it's set in Poland or in Russia…
We found ourselves in a boot camp. The oldest cheered us up. As for us, being 20, we fell for it; whereas the others, being 30 and having spent ten years in the navy, they were experienced and knew all the tricks.
Since we had no experience, we behaved like idiots. The Germans said: "You're idiots". We said: "Yes". We agreed. We were given orders, and we always said yes, but we didn't obey. In the end, The Germans were fed up with us. They understood they wouldn't be able to make us do anything. So they sent us to a Professional navy school to learn German. We were there from October to December '43. There were even Alsatians with us who could speak the dialect quite well: when they understood the trick, they squeezed with us who couldn't speak German.
In December, the youngest and those who could already speak a little German were transferred on boats… They asked us the following question: "Do you want to go to the front or would you rather learn German?" So we said: "We want to go to the front, but we can't speak German well enough". We stayed three more months, then each one of us was transferred to another direction.
I was transferred to a torpedo boat in Swidemunde(??) near Danzig.
Meanwhile, I went on leaves for agricultural reasons and brought back kirsch brandy. The Germans liked it very much. They liked it so much that one day I was allowed to go on leave and they told me: "You bring us back kirsch brandy." I thought: "I've got the hang of it!" and one thing leading to another… The people in Lapoutroie said: " He often goes on leaves". Well, that's just the way life is! Kirsch brandy made me go on leaves. When I was back, I always did my duty with good will. One fine day, an Alsatian from the vineyard of Hunawihr told me: "Couldn't you bring Alsace wine back?" He had the same trick, but he brought back Alsace wine to the officers. I told him: "We have no wine, but I can bring back kirsch brandy." He told it to the officer who answered: "That's much better. "So I went on another fortnight leave.
After 10 days, a telegram: "Be back straight away". My torpedo boat went on manoeuvres in the North Sea. I had to go. I didn't leave immediately, but a day and a half later. When I arrived there, I was torn off a strip. Fortunately, the kirsch brandy arranged everything, I ended up in the depot again. It was like that until I went on my last leave…
Meanwhile, I was transferred from the torpedo boat to the Sylt Island near Denmark. It looked like Normandy, there were forts, bunkers, heavy artillery. As for us, we had to guard these forts in case of an attack. It was in spring '44, the landings hadn't yet happened. They were waiting for landings, but they didn't know where they'd happen.
The Normandy landings happened in June. From then on, everything changed a lot. In Denmark, it was nearly certain that we would be transferred in the infantry to go and fight in Russia: we assumed it, we suspected something, we felt it.
In August 1944, I managed to get on my last leave. It was on August 25th. I clearly remember, it was the day Paris was liberated. I'm convinced that, two days later, they wouldn't have given me the leave because they already knew it was difficult to go to Alsace because of the Rhine. So, the major called me and said: "I give you your leave for agricultural reasons, but you're not going to come back". I said: "Have a look at my military record. I went on leaves and I always came back!" So I was given the leave. But, I was already I wouldn't go back there…
I had to find a way to avoid trouble to my parents. I was home. When my leave was over, I thought: "What can I do to pull the wool over their eyes, without being cheated myself? There aren't many solutions, I have to leave." I had anticipated it. My bike was in Colmar, I said goodbye to all kinds of people who could testify I had left, I went to the military police station to get my papers stamped: they registered that I was leaving, I was in order. Then I took the train. The train it wasn't going too fast, so after 10 yards I jumped off. I walked until Logelbach, where my bike was, and I went back home at night… Nobody knew anything about it. I was home. I hid for five months. I never slept in my bed, I always slept in the haystack. The police could have come at night. During the day, I didn't work very much. I did DIY inside, trying not to make too much noise, being careful about the dog's barking. I cleared off and hid whenever somebody came. In the evening I scythed grass and did the farm work. It lasted five months.
At that time, a German soldier saw me. He came to our house everyday. The neighbouring farm had a small stable with 5 or 6 animals. At that time (in August-September '44) the Germans were already pulling back. Everyday he went to the stable to feed the cattle they had in reserve for their company. He came to our house everyday. One fine day I found myself face to face with him in the house. He knew me: He had seen photos, when I was in the navy. I was scared. I thought: "It's going to be dangerous." Everything went well, He didn't say anything.
One day, a long time after the war was over, my father heard about doctor Schweitzer on the radio and he told me: "But that German soldier who was always coming, his name was Schweitzer and he was from such and such village in Wurtemberg in Germany". After that we went to Wurtemberg once to see him. We met again: He thought he'd seen me in Normandy. That's when I said to myself: " There are fair people everywhere; and there are bastards everywhere."
From then on, I immediately became a European citizen, as you would say.
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