War on the Margins Page 5
‘Are you all right, cherie?’ asked Lucille.
‘Did you see something?’
‘I saw someone.’
‘Whom?’
‘The woman who informed on me. She saw me at the Jewish cemetery and told my boss.’
‘Oh, the little bitch!’ cried Lucille. ‘Do not worry. We will protect you. Are you sure?’
‘Yes,’ Marlene said, trying to stop shaking.
They stopped at a café frequented by German soldiers. They ordered an expensive pot of tea, took out their bread (the café having nothing to eat), and managed to chitchat long enough that the other diners stopped paying attention to them. As they left, they dropped a note from the Nameless Soldier on an adjoining empty table, and dropped two crumpled ones into the pockets of soldiers’ coats draped on the backs of chairs. They took a roundabout route back to Mary’s house, dropping a letter or two into each postbox on the way. They picked up their bicycles and set off for St Brelade in the late afternoon. Marlene had not had so much tea in weeks, and was still very nervous. The sighting of Pauline had undone any benefit afforded by weeks of work outdoors.
Back at home, the women plied her with cognac and questions. Was Pauline a jerrybag? Well, yes. She had seen her with a soldier. Did Pauline still work in the Aliens Office? She didn’t know. What was Pauline’s last name? Barrett.
A letter was quickly drafted, on the cheap lined paper,naming Pauline as a black marketeer. ‘She will go to the prison in Lille,’ chuckled Suzanne, ‘a little vacation from her busy activities as an informant.’
Churchill held forth on the wireless that night, extolling the bravery and cheerfulness of the British citizenry he had encountered. ‘What a proof of the virtues of free institutions; what a test of the quality of our local authorities …’ Yes, what a test indeed, mused Marlene bitterly, thinking of Pauline and Mr Orange. He went on, talking about the German invasion of Greece, which was battling Italy: ‘Meanwhile, Hitler … suddenly made it clear that he would come to the rescue of his fellow-criminal … While nearly all the Greek troops were busy beating the Italians, the tremendous German military machine suddenly towered up on their other frontier. In their mortal peril, the Greeks turned to us for succour. Strained as were our own resources, we could not say them “nay” … There are rules against that kind of thing, and to break those rules would be fatal to the honour of the British Empire, without which we could neither hope, nor deserve, to win this hard war … ’ His comments on Britain’s refusal to abandon Greece in her time of need went over Marlene’s head, but the sisters looked at each other and nodded at this posthumous dig at Chamberlain.
CHAPTER 15
No. 1, F.B. Cottages
Greve d’Azette
10 June 1941
Dear Sir,
I am in doubt as to whether the new order relating to Jews affects myself or not, and would be most grateful if you will kindly inform me what to do about registering, I am the wife of Leonard Charles ISAAC’s (at present out of the island) who is a Jew on the paternal side but not on the maternal side, he was baptised Church of England and as far as I know has never BELONGED to any Jewish religion, not being a Jewess myself I do not think the order concerns me, but will feel more satisfied on receiving your advice.
I remain,
Yours truly,
Ada Isaacs (née RIGBY)
CHAPTER 16
France
‘Uranian’ was a term for it, taken from the writings of Plato. Havelock Ellis, whom Lucille would later translate into French, called it ‘sexual inversion’, and mentioned its association with free and creative minds. When their parents finally married in 1917, when Lucille was 23, Lucille and Suzanne moved into a fourth-floor apartment in the headquarters of Phare de la Loire, Lucille’s father’s newspaper. They had begun to acquire literary reputations, having written and illustrated for Phare, as well as for the more avant-garde Le Mercure de France. The following year, Lucille began studies at the Sorbonne, and they threw themselves into the literary and artistic life of Paris. Lucille settled on the name Claude Cahun, continued to write, and then took up her camera again. Suzanne became Marcel Moore, illustrator. They were young, smart, well-off and talented. Claude shaved her head, created more self-portraits. She began to realise the inadvertent gift of her mother: she had never known what ‘normal’ was. The blessing of uncertainty bestowed on a brilliant mind was the source of her power.
One Christmas she gave Marcel a poem about Heaven as a trap for men. Why not regard Heaven with uncertainty? Had anyone thought about it? ‘Nothing is easier than to enter into Paradise; but – believe the experience of a prisoner – if you pass the threshold, you will not exit! … And you will never know the voluptuous Hell, the varied Hell, the seven season Hell, with unforeseen Springs, where each chooses his own hour; the only place which resembles and brings back to the Earth – the brothel of the Eternal.’
CHAPTER 17
Le Masurier, Giffard & Poch
23 Hill Street
Jersey, June 13th. 1941
Clifford Orange, Esq.
Chief Aliens Officer
Hill Street,
Jersey
Dear Sir,
Third Order relating to Measures against Jews.
Mrs Catherine Pauline Hill (née Jacobs)
We beg to acknowledge receipt of your letter of the 11th. instant.
We regret that we have been unable to ascertain any facts which have given rise to the supposition that Mrs. Hill is a Jewess.
We thought it our duty, when you wrote on the 23rd. November last, to inform you that we were acting for Mrs. Hill, whose maiden name was Jacobs. Apart from the fact that the surname Jacobs may be of Jewish origin, which was the sole reason which led us to suppose that our client might possibly be a Jewess, we knew of nothing which might help to prove that she was, in fact, a Jewess.
Perhaps we may add that Mrs. Hill was the wife of Mr. Walter Albert Russell Hill, who was formerly the owner of the Halkett Hotel.
We have every reason to believe that Mr. Hill was an Aryan.
Yours faithfully,
Le Masurier, Giffard & Poch.
Field Command 515
[Translation]
4th July 1941
The Bailiff of Jersey
Official Journal No. 36, dated 10th June 1941
The fourth Order concerning anti-Jewish measures dated 28th May need not be published and registered. I request you, however, to bring it to the attention of the representative of Commercial Properties, Ltd. [owned by Phineas Cohen, removed to London]. The approval required in accordance with paragraphs 1 and 2 is, in case of necessity, to be obtained from the Field Command.
For the Field Commander,
von Stein, O.K.V.R.
CHAPTER 18
St Brelade, Jersey
July 1941
Marlene, Lucille and Suzanne had heard it on the BBC. ‘The night is your friend, and “V” is your sign.’ The Morse code for the letter ‘V’ was played on a drum and then followed by the first four notes of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony, whose dit-dit-dit-da were the same tempo. They set out at night with sticks of chalk, writing ‘V’ on walls and in the streets. They smuggled folded-up ‘V’s to funerals, dropping them into cars and pockets. Suzanne and Lucille laughed at Bailiff Carey’s announcement of a fine for anyone caught making the letter. It frightened Marlene, though; what side was he on? Was he, as well as Mr Orange, going over to the Germans? Were they only concerned about avoiding retribution? Not that there hadn’t been any. Wireless sets were confiscated within a certain radius of sites where people were caught painting ‘V’s. They were later returned, but it put people out. Well, running away from her job and home in St Helier had certainly put Marlene out, hadn’t it? The people required to put ‘Jewish Undertaking’ signs in their windows, and then ordered to auction off their businesses in the spring, were put out, weren’t they? Who was putting us out the most? The Germans! Marlene sliced some swedes for lu
nch; she could not fashion artistic shapes out of them so just made thin rounds. She cut a half slice of rationed bread for each person. They had parsnip coffee with a little milk in it. Lucille noted Marlene’s angry expression as they began their meal.
‘What is it, Marlene?’
‘Nothing, Lucille.’
‘No, dear Marlene, you are upset. What is it?’
‘Everything.’ She put her fork down and rubbed her brow.
‘We know, Marlene. You are a very brave young woman. We still have our home; you have left yours. Cherie, you do not have to go with us on all our resistance missions. You have more at risk, although we are Jewish, too.’
‘What?’
‘Yes, cherie, we are Jews.’
‘But you didn’t register.’
They both laughed. ‘Marlene,’ said Suzanne, squeezing Marlene’s hand, ‘we do not comply with the government in many ways. Remember, we were revolutionaries in Paris. We are still revolutionaries in love!’
Suzanne put her free hand around Lucille’s shoulders and gave her a hug. Marlene vaguely understood what Suzanne was saying; she had noticed they often shared a bedroom, but she never asked them about it. What business was it of hers?
Suzanne continued. ‘We grew up in Jewish families, but we did not go to the synagogue. The Nazis do not ask you if you went to synagogue or not. They hate all Jews, as you know.’
‘Yes.’
‘It is perhaps foolish of us to expect you to come with us on all our escapades. We are older. You have more to lose.’
Marlene found herself shouting. ‘No!’ she said. ‘I want to come with you! What kind of life do I have ahead of me? I’m a bloody old maid!’ She immediately felt badly after she said it; she worried Lucille and Suzanne would be offended. Instead, they chuckled.
Lucille spoke up.’ Mais non! You are a revolutionary heroine! You have already saved one woman from the Germans by destroying her card! You are braver than many men! Cherie, you shall have many lovers!’
Marlene felt her cheeks burning; the women laughed harder.
‘I have never had a lover.’ Marlene pressed her lips together. There was a brief silence.
‘You shall,’ said Lucille with amusing certainty. ‘When this war is over, we will take you to Paris. It will be like it was in the old days, before Pétain and all the fascists.’
Suzanne broke in. ‘Listen to my optimiste! Shall I pack a valise? Will the war be over next week?’
Lucille would have none of her sarcasm. ‘No, we must believe! Every Monday, I think the war will end on Friday. The more “V”s we paint, the more letters the Soldier Without a Name writes, the sooner that Friday will come. What do you think, Marlene?’
Marlene could not bear to disagree with Lucille. ‘Yes, you are right. If not this Friday, then the Friday after. I want to go to Paris!’
‘You have never been there?’ Lucille looked shocked.
‘No, I haven’t. I have never been anywhere.’
‘Not to the other Islands?’
‘I went to Sark once, with my school. That is all.’
‘You poor little chick. It is too bad that the war has been the only thing to bring you excitement.’
‘This is excitement I can do without, thank you very much!’
They laughed. Lucille grabbed her ‘coffee’ and held the cup aloft. ‘To victory!’
‘To victory!’ toasted Marlene and Suzanne. They drained their cups.
CHAPTER 19
Paris
They tried to create in an ossifying Paris. Claude penned ‘Uranian Games’, replete with startling imagery of sexual ambiguity, nurturing and death: ‘I hide within him and I look at you from beneath his eyelids. How would I have a name, a body, an idea of my own, I, his pale reflection, the shadow which follows him word by word? What am I, if not the friend of my friend?’
She wrote of Biblical heroines; of Judith walking to the enemy camp with a rescued baby bird under her arm, it starting out ‘warmer than my feverish armpit’, then cooling and dying there. Was it the death of innocence, or the banishment of sentimentality? In ‘Games’, she wrote of Marcel holding tightly to a tiny bat, representing negative ideas, eventually releasing but remembering it. They closed the decade with Aveux non Avenues, a book of photomontages, images of people and parts of people arranged into stylised mandalas; Claude’s head turned inside out and placed on paper like a map.
With the Thirties came little relief for the disabled veterans, the bitter widows, the man-empty towns left behind by the Great War. The Depression eventually hit and found France’s serial governments unprepared. The pacifism of the Twenties hardened into isolationism.
People ran to align themselves with the various flavours of fascism: the Parti Populaire Française, Parti Social Français, the Action Française. Not content with his fortune from perfume, François Coty had launched an anti-Semitic daily, L’Ami du Peuple, which boasted three million readers by 1930.
Claude and Marcel were welcomed into André Breton’s Surrealist sphere, which disdained snob art and oppression, religion, mysticism and the over-serious. Feelings and dreams were important; hysteria but another form of expression. They posed the awesome threat of the Other; the middle finger stuck up in the face of Authority. After all, if singing the ‘wrong’ song or having the ‘wrong’ penis could land you in trouble, making a picture of a woman with two heads was as dangerous as throwing a Molotov cocktail. Several Surrealists were to die in the camps; several Japanese artists were imprisoned.
The Thirties lurched on. Franco crushed the Republicans. Hitler reoccupied the Rhineland. Claude and Marcel wrote, photographed, drew. They also affixed their signatures to an anti-Nazi declaration, and took the step of buying the house in St Brelade, installing a large photography studio. If Paris was unrecognisable now, ready to spit them out like rotten fruit, they needed a place to land.
‘Claude’ and ‘Marcel’ changed back to ‘Lucille’ and ‘Suzanne’ when they moved to Jersey in May of 1938 to live quietly together, making soldier dolls out of newspaper and photographing them in the sand. Again, a bird died under their arms. The diamond glint of the sun on the Bay and the antics of the gulls were lost on them as they paced the floor and listened to Western Europe capitulate to Germany’s demand for the Sudetenland, then held each other and wept as they heard France fall. Resistance work was the only possible choice.
CHAPTER 20
13 August 1941
Mrs. A Isaacs,
1, F.B. Cottages,
Greve d’Azette,
St. Clement,
Jersey
Third Order relating to measures against Jews
Madam,
I am directed to inform you that it has been finally established that you are not a Jewess under the terms of the Third Jewish Order, dated 26th. April, 1941.
I am, Madam,
Your obedient servant,
Clifford Orange
Chief Aliens Officer.
Field Command 515
[Translation]
2nd September 1941
The Bailiff of Jersey
Official Journal No. 39, dated 22nd August 1941.
1. The Third Order for the execution and amendment of the Order concerning property, dated 31st July 1941, need be neither published nor registered.
2. The Order concerning the confiscation of wireless sets of Jews must either be registered and published in German and English or all Jews must be notified individually.
For the Field Commander,
Dr. Brosch, K.V.R.
Aliens Office,
Jersey
11th September 1941.
The Bailiff of Jersey.
Order concerning the withdrawal of Wireless Sets of Jews, dated 13th August, 1941.
Sir,
I have the honour to refer to your Memorandum (W30/66) of the 5th. instant regarding the above Order and to report that three Wireless Sets have been deposited with me at this Office by the following regis
tered Jews:-
1.Mr. Hyam Goldman,
Milestone Cottage,
St. Peter’s Valley.
2.Mr. John Jacobs,
4, St. Clement’s Gardens
St. Clement’s.
3.Mr. Nathan Davidson,
59 Oxford Road,
St. Helier.
Each Jew, whose name is contained in the Jewish Register, has been interviewed by me, in person, and the remainder, eight in number, have stated that they do not possess Wireless Sets. A record of their statements has been kept in my file.
I have the honour to be, Sir,
Your obedient servant,
Clifford Orange
Chief Aliens Officer
Fifth Order relating to measures against the Jews
VOIBF p. 297
September 28, 1941
In virtue of the plenary powers conferred upon me by the Führer and Supreme Commander of the Wehrmacht, I order as follows:
§ 1
Administrators of Jewish undertakings shall, at the termination of their management, deposit 90% of the net proceeds with the Jersey Department of Finance and Economics. The other 10% shall be deposited in the account of the General Commissioner for the Jewish Question. Only the absolute indispensable amount shall be disbursed to the Jewish associate.
§ 2
This is in keeping with § 4 of the Fourth Order relating to measures against the Jews.
§ 3
This Order shall be submitted for publication.
The Military Commander in France
CHAPTER 21
Cherbourg
December 1941
Rain lashed the thirty prisoners’ faces as they were herded aboard the lurching vessel. LeBlanc, the little Vichy shit, shouted at them to hurry. Before they had been soldiers, then refugees, then detainees, now prisoners. Most were Red Spaniards who had fled across the Pyrenees after the Republican defeat at the hands of Franco and his German and Italian allies; some were foreign comrades, veterans of the International and Abraham Lincoln Brigades. Many had done time in Sachsenhausen. They all gave off the rotten-straw smell of the barracks at Le Vernet and Gurs, where the government of the birthplace of Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité had seen fit to detain them as enemies of the State. With the fall of France and the replacement of Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité with Travail, Famille, Patrie, most of these indésirables were added to the massive slave labour pool of the Reich. As the last prisoner crossed the gangway, LeBlanc saluted the German naval officer smartly and got into his car. The men were driven into the foul-smelling hold, where they huddled on crude benches clearly added as an afterthought; this tub must have been a commandeered fishing boat. A bucket stood in the corner. The motor rumbled, the ship lurched more violently, and they were off. Soon a few men were taking turns retching painfully into the bucket; they had not eaten enough in months to vomit.