The bulk of our activity started in 1942. My brother, me and my father, belonged to a movement called "Libération sud" [South Liberation]. In July 1942, the Jews were rounded up in the Paris Vélodrome d'Hiver. And after the rounding up, around a thousand Jewish children hadn't been arrested, and they had to be transferred from Paris to unoccupied France.

And we took part in that work, looking for places to hide the children: convents, Protestant organisations as well as private ones… we gave these children new identity papers, since you know that every Jew, whether French or foreign, had their identity cards stamped "Jewish". To avoid new arrests, we had to give all these persons a new identity. We also had to provide them ration cards. It was the beginning of a hard and organised work in the Resistance movement.

What we also did was to warn a lot of foreign Jews they were about to be arrested since my father had contacts with a ring in the Saint Amand Montrond police which gave him the list of persons who were to be arrested on the following day.

So at night, my brother and I took our bicycles. We often did 100 to 150 km at night to warn them, to find them a place where they could hide straight away and gave them false identity cards so that they could try to escape.

I must say that two or three persons we warned didn't want to come with us to hide; they used several excuses: one said he'd fought in the German army in 1918 and that he'd been given the Iron Cross, an important decoration, and that he wouldn't be arrested; another said he didn't want to leave his wife - in my opinion, these grounds were not valid… and the two or three persons who didn't follow us were arrested on the next day, were sent to Auschwitz and probably never came back.

After that we did our everyday job as resistance fighters: we carried newspapers, since young people were in charge of carrying underground newspapers.

Then, in the Cher, there were massive airdrops my brother and I had taken part in. It was a thrilling time: when we saw the parachutes fall from the sky with big containers hanging in which there were weapons, explosives, supplies - because you know that between 1940 and 1945 we hardly had enough to eat in France… for instance, everything that came from North Africa such as bananas, oranges, chocolate, that kind of things, we never got a sniff of it… and in the airdrops, there was chocolate; and we, children, we could touch chocolate: it was fantastic!

We took over the village on June 7^th. In the town there was a militia company, a French auxiliary police which collaborated with the Germans, and whose main goal was to fight against members of the Resistance and Jews… and we arrested about fifteen militiamen. And in the barracks where the members lived, there also was a woman, Mrs Boutlan (?), with her children. She was the wife of the militia's general secretary who was in Vichy and we took her prisoner too. And when her husband, Mr Boutlan, who was in Vichy, learnt we'd taken militiamen and his wife prisoner, he warned the Germans who counterattacked on June 8^th or 9^th.

So we took them away: we withdrew to the Creuse and took to the Maquis.

After numerous travels, the Germans threatened to blow Saint Amand Montrond up; the mayor tried to find us in the Maquis… it was a fantastic ordeal. Eventually, the mayor found our group. We set Mrs Boutlan free, we didn't have the slightest idea of what to do with her.

And we went back to the Creuse maquis. We were nearby Bourganeuf. And on July 19^th 1944, we came across an SS Das Reich regiment, those who had burnt Ouradour down: we, our group, were 60; the Germans were 1500 at least… In the Maquis, we had light weapons, submachine guns or rifles, and no machine guns, no mortars, no guns… So we only had light weapons whereas the Germans had mortars and heavy machine guns. We fought for an hour, or an hour and a half. Our group of 60 fighters split in two. A group of 30 managed to shake the Germans off and our group was completely surrounded. Around ten among us were wounded - and I was one of these, a bullet went right through my throat. As for the wounded, the ten of us were lying on the floor because when a bullet hits the end of your chin, it's like getting punched in the face: you're knocked out.

While I was lying on the floor, my brother, as if by magic, had got dressings in his pockets: because in the airdrops there also were dressings… and my brother had got two big bandages in his pockets: he put the two bandages around my chin and my head. And when the SS charged at us, my brother got me to my feet whereas the minute before I was lying on the floor with my wounded friends… and all the wounded who were lying were shot dead in the head and, since I was standing, they didn't kill me. That's it.

Then we were taken to prison in Bourganeuf, in the Creuse. At three in the morning, they made us leave our cells. There was a big square in front of the prison. The prison in Bourganeuf was called "nuts" tower: it's right in the middle of the village; there was a big square in front of it. And when we went downstairs, there were searchlights and heavy machine guns pointed at us: they made us lay along the prison wall. I told my brother: we're going to say goodbye because the Germans are going to fire off. Finally they didn't fire; we went back to our cells…

After 2 or 3 days, we were transferred from the Bourganeuf prison to the Aubusson prison. There, one morning, Germans came to tell me, since I was wounded, that they would take me to hospital in Clermont-Ferrand. They put me in a car and we left. Then I was put in a truck in which there was another guy I didn't know… and we left in the truck. Only afterwards did I learn we were in Clermont-Ferrand. The truck stopped in front of a big building… We were watched by White Russians who collaborated with the Germans. We were stopped two or three times, we were made to get out of the truck, they held a gun to our head, then we got back in the truck… Well… I think all those who were caught by the Germans underwent such a journey.

We arrived in Clermont-Ferrand, in front of a big building. I didn't see a red cross, it didn't look like a hospital: I was surprised… We entered the big building and there we were greeted like this: they hit us with truncheons, they kicked us and punched us… we went flying. We went downstairs into a cellar while they were hitting us with the butt of a rifle, and then I realised I wasn't in a hospital but at the Gestapo HQ in Royat. I nearly spent a week there.

I also would like to tell you that, when we were arrested, my brother and I, we had false identity cards. When I was arrested I was known as Jean Michaux (?) and my brother as Gilbert Michaux (?). So we had exchanged our first names. And, just before being arrested, when we saw the Germans coming, I was lying on the floor and I dug a hole under myself and put my false identity card in it. And I think my brother hadn't got his at that moment; I don't know… Anyway, when we were arrested I was known as Jean Michaux, I was interrogated three times by the Gestapo… they asked us our name, the name of our father, of our mother: we had to be careful not to make a mistake… they asked who our leaders were, where we hid our weapons, where the airdrops landed… the usual questions in fact…

And did I tell you I was Jewish and, when I was in the hands of the Gestapo, I wasn't undressed once: this was the first miracle!

One day, we left the Gestapo headquarter surrounded by Gestapo members for the 92 military prison in Clermont-Ferrand: it's the prison where they had interned all the Alsatians who'd been arrested at the Strasbourg faculty during the great rounding ups in Clermont-Ferrand since, I've already told you, the faculty of Strasbourg had withdrawn to Clermont-Ferrand.

Except that in this prison, I was in a cell with a man, I asked him what his name was: he was My Lord Piguet (?), the bishop of Clermont-Ferrand. And as I was rather severely wounded, I thought: I can't tell him I'm Jean Michaux but Gilbert May… As it happened my uncle was the rabbi of Clermont-Ferrand in wartime … he was rabbi Joseph Bloch who later became the rabbi of Haguenau - besides there's a street called Joseph Bloch street in Haguenau. He told me: "As long as you're with me, You'll be a Catholic." And another man came into our cell, I was 19 at the time: he was covered with blood, really disgusting… the guy entered the cell and I asked him: "What's your name?" the guy answered: "Young man, call me Your Highness." Well, you wouldn't expect such a thing to happen in prison! So I said: "Your highness, what's your name, chap?" he was Prince Xavier of Bourbon Parma, the former pretender to the throne of Spain… So I was in good company.

And one day, as the Americans were advancing, the prison was entirely evacuated…

I must tell you that, when I entered the prison in Clermont-Ferrand, I saw a convoy which was leaving: that's when I saw my brother for the last time because he was deported to Germany with the whole group that had been arrested at the same time.

As the Americans were advancing, we went to the Struthof. We were loaded in goods wagons: a hundred in each wagon; we were squashed like sardines… we could neither stand up nor lay. As far as hygiene was concerned, we had a 5 litre empty tin for the whole wagon; and nothing to eat, and nothing to drink. So, an hour later the tin was already filled with excrements… since we nearly all were resistance fighters in the wagon, we organised a kind of pretty strict rule: every two hours, 50 guys stood up, and 50 could lie down… we travelled for three nights and two days without drinking, without eating. Three days without eating is hard… But three days without drinking is very, very, hard. So, if you want to hold out…

I belonged to the Jewish scouts before the war and our leader's totem was camel. Every Sunday, we used to go on a trip and everyone had a flask for the day. And when we arrived in the village where trip started, Camel emptied our flasks and told us: "If you're thirsty, suck a pebble!". And in my wagon, each time I cracked up, I said to myself: Don't crack up, because if you crack up and if you say you're thirsty, Camel will tell you off. Which just shows scouts memories can sometimes save one's life. Anyway it helped me stand the strain.

So, it was too much for us, we were dying of thirst when we arrived at the train station in Rothau where they got us off. One part got in a truck and the other walked. We were nearly a thousand in the train.

At the Struthof we were welcomed outside the camp by the commander of the camp who told us: "You enter by this door" on which the inscription said: "ARBEIT MACHT FREI" [working sets you free]. He showed us the smoking chimney of the crematorium furnace, we still ignored it was a crematorium furnace, and he went on: "You'll go out through this chimney". That was the welcoming speech…

When we arrived, we were on the small platform at the entrance of the camp, it was 5 or 6 in the morning. It was at daybreak, and in the camp we saw guys in rags or in striped clothes screaming at us: "Throw us everything you've got!"… Because we still had all our clothes… I'd got my watch, a pen. And we said to ourselves: "We won't give them anything at all: we're keeping what we've got"… and we directly went to the showers. And the showers were adjoining the crematorium building: there was just a wall separating them. We were stripped off, we were entirely shaved off, and they took everything we had. So we understood why the guys had shouted at us: "Give us everything you have"… we were naked, we hadn't got anything left, no hair from head to toe. And we had a shower and we faced the SS and we were given clothes.

When we were told to undress I thought: I've had it, since, as a Jew I'm circumcised… I was with Piguet and Xavier of Bourbon Parma. I undressed slowly. When Piguet was undressed I saw he was circumcised - for medical reasons I suppose. Xavier was too… so I stood between them and we went past the SS… the SS said: "This is the bishop and this is the Prince". As for me, I was in the middle and I made myself very small… and we got our clothes and our numbers… so, I was a good Catholic. We stayed for a fortnight in the Struthof camp, then as the Americans were advancing, the whole camp moved to Dachau between September 1^st and 3^rd. At the Struthof I think my number was 26 688 I believe.

And we went to the camp of Dachau, still in a goods train, and a hundred in each wagon… we travelled for two days. We didn't get much bread before the departure. There was nothing to drink since the wagons were closed and sealed. I think it took us a day and a half to go from the Struthof to Dachau. That was alright. When we arrived there we were re-registered. At Dachau my number was 103 322… And we were dispatched up into quarantine shacks: at first in block 19, then block 21…

Then I went to Augsburg with a commando unit: we were building a factory that built Messerschmidt planes… it was a very harsh commando unit: we were a thousand in each unit and every three weeks, a thousand new guys arrived since around 900 out of a thousand had died…

There was no hospital in Augsburg, but an infirmary, and I had a double pneumonia… to be admitted to the infirmary your fever had to rise up to 40°C. The day when it happened, I was admitted to infirmary, but there was no medicine: it only allowed you to die in a shack. And I was dying. In my delirium I heard a voice telling me (I think it came from heaven): "You're not alone, hold on and you'll make it"… It was a miracle, a week after I was still alive.

I was re-transferred to the Dachau camp where I was admitted for a few days to the infirmary. In the camp, there also was a great solidarity between nations: in Dachau, there were some French doctors at the infirmary and, thanks to the Resistance network, I was admitted to the infirmary and it allowed me to recover a bit…

At the end of December, I was still in Dachau. To give you an idea of how we were treated… the Germans considered us as subhuman. The Germans' theory was they were supermen and we were intended to serve them and we meant nothing at all. Whether we died or not didn't disturb them.

For instance, the day before Christmas '44, they got us out of the shacks at one in the morning. We were taken to the showers, obviously there was no soap and no towel: the sanitary conditions were appalling. They gave us new clothes because ours were full of fleas and lice. And immediately after the hot shower, we were still wet and they transferred us to the roll call square: there was snow and we wore clogs… and we stood to attention there for two hours. The guys dropped like flies during the roll call because they'd moved from a hot shower to -10°C outside… A lot of men died on that day.

Then there was a very important typhus epidemic at the camp in Dachau. The internal organisation of the camp was that the prisoners had to organise the camp themselves: they were supervised by the SS. The foreman came from Lorraine: his name was Philippe - later he worked at the Dernières Nouvelles de Strasbourg [Strasbourg's newspaper] - and I told him I didn't want to die of typhus and that I wanted to go with the commando unit. He made me go to Landsberg (?)…

There, we were in the woods and dug an underground factory… Since the allies bombarded the German factories, the Germans had the idea of making underground factories. We had no modern instruments; we had shovels, pickaxes, wheelbarrows and we dug and we dug… in Landsberg, a small Aryan camp, we were surrounded by six camps of Jews… and I trembled that one day someone would recognise me. Since the end of the war was near, a lot of Jews tried to enter our camp. And the Germans noticed it, and they told us to be in a line, they looked at the guys and depending on the face they had, they said: "You're a Jew", "You're not a Jew"… that was a harsh moment for me. Eventually, it went well.

There also was another moment in Landsberg… In each commando unit, there was an old convict who was responsible towards the SS… He was one of the first persons to be arrested, a former member of the Communist youth movement whose name was Hans Meile (?) and with whom I got along well because, as young people, we tried to help one another. At once he told me: "Instead of going to the factory, I'll send you to the SS commander". There, I had to steal bread for the others. And that commander had worked in the gas chambers in Auschwitz, and when I polished his boots he said: "I can smell the Jews 10 metres away" and I thought: "Let's hope he's a cold so that he can't smell I'm a Jew". So I stayed there for a week polishing his boots and stealing everything I could for my friends…

And one day, we went back to Dachau, war nearly was over. We arrived there after having walked for a day and a half… those who fell and couldn't walk any further were shot dead in the head… And we arrived in Dachau where we saw piles of bodies because the typhus had caused appalling damages.

To enter the blocks we had to walk on corpses because the crematorium furnaces couldn't keep pace and there was no coal left.

On April 29^th 1945, we were liberated by the Americans.