We Were Young and at War: The first-hand story of young lives lived and lost in World War Two

Evening: We reach Le Mans at last. I like the town immediately. Mostly because it is stuffed full of English soldiers. It’s an English town. Maybe Bill and Sinclair are here!

We’re having dinner. It’s 9 p.m. Air-raid warning! No electricity. We go out and it’s pouring with rain. We sit down against the wall. I have my new hat on—completely ruined. Mummy is covered in mud from head to toe; the rain spreads it everywhere. There’s a terrible smell. We find a shelter and stay till 1 a.m. It’s warm and dark, good for sleeping. People move around from time to time, children cry out. The pot of honey came open in my bag and everything is covered in it!…I open my eyes and then I go back to sleep.

Darak, the dog, is a darling. He never whimpers, even if someone steps on his paws. The station guard moved us from the shelter. We spent the rest of the night on the station platform, where we couldn’t sleep. At every sound, Mummy woke me, saying, ‘Is that an air-raid warning?’ English officers and soldiers go past sometimes. There’s a lieutenant with glasses and an ugly girl who are getting to know each other and I bet they will love each other madly as soon as we are gone.

At 4 in the morning we take the train to Angers. We lost the Brunetiers in the shelter, but met up with them again in Rennes. We change trains in Angers and I take the opportunity to wash the honey out of my bag.

13 June 1940

We are resting. I couldn’t put my hair in curlers in the train or at the station in Le Mans, so I look hideous.

Terribly tired.

14 June 1940

Very tired but things are getting better. Marie-France, my cousin, has cheered me up. She is very nice. If only there were Tommies here, then I really would be happy! There are no more air raids and I miss them because we are constantly just waiting for them to arrive, and I hate waiting.

Yesterday Paris was declared an open city; today the Bosches are fighting all around it. Our troops are pulling out. It’s crazy how many men they have! The situation is hopeless but I’m sure we’ll win. They put up their stupid posters: ‘We will win because we are stronger.’ But that’s not true. We will win because it’s not possible that God will allow the killers of small children to win control.

That day, 14 June, a month after first breaking through the French defences, German troops entered Paris without a fight. The government had fled, declaring the capital an ‘open city’ to prevent it being reduced to ruins. The first German soldiers to reach the city centre planted Swastika flags on the Arc de Triomphe and the Eiffel Tower. As Herbert Veigel’s division advanced further across France, he was able to write letters home during brief rest periods.

15 June 1940

My dear family,

It’s unbelievable how fast we are advancing, right on schedule too. Today we heard the news that our troops have marched into Paris. By the time you get this letter, France might have capitulated. And the war should be over in a few weeks after that! All this will hopefully mean that every last German will have faith in our Führer from now on. We have known for a long time that he is the greatest German of all time…

Fondest greetings from your Herbert

17 June 1940

Dearest family,

We are in pursuit of the defeated enemy at an incredible pace. We will soon have the last of them surrounded. I am writing to you again for a very particular reason. Last night we discovered a hosiery factory and we made off with as many socks as we could, ladies’ and men’s. When I was packing early this morning I noticed that in the dark I had grabbed lots of odd pairs, mismatched in size and colour. I put them together as best I could, and now I’m worried that they’ll all be too big. But you can make them smaller, can’t you? The factory was already on fire when we went in and now it’s nothing but a heap of ashes.

With fondest love,

Your Herbert

21 June 1940

Dear Parents,

We’re now heading for the south of France. All along the roads you see signs of frantic retreat by the French. There’s equipment and all kinds of things lying around everywhere. If it wasn’t essential they just dropped it. We see thousands of prisoners every day, with very few guards. They’re not putting up any kind of defence. Whole units seek out the prisoner-of-war camps and give themselves up. That’s how shattered they are by the strength of the German army. I am shocked again and again by what I see of the streams of refugees. Mothers come and beg us for bread! They are all moved by the honourable behaviour of the German soldiers, they had imagined them to be barbarians.

Fondest thoughts from your Herbert

Four days earlier, the French head of state, Marshal Pétain, urged his countrymen to lay down their arms; and over half the total of French soldiers taken prisoner during the course of the war surrendered in the week that followed. But not everyone complied. Micheline, her mother and Nicole were staying with their relatives, just 150 miles south of Paris, as they anticipated their first encounter with German troops.

18 June 1940

We have been sent to a farm in the countryside because the soldiers are going to try and defend L’Ile Bouchard.

Before we left we had a long discussion. Cousin Jules said that the Germans do not rape women ‘because they are decent’. Uncle Fritz, who spends his days sucking his false teeth, never intervenes in conversations. But at this point he adjusted his dentures and said: ‘That’s not why, oh no! It’s because they don’t have the temperament.’

We are staying in a room infested with spiders, ants, dead flies, etc.

21 June 1940

The Bosches are in L’Ile Bouchard. They are very disciplined and well behaved and pay for everything they buy. We are discussing an armistice. We are going to let the English carry on alone.

Today, Saturday, they positioned themselves near us. In the evening ‘they’ came. They wanted to dance with us, with Louise, her three sisters and me. We said we weren’t feeling well and they didn’t press the point. Luckily, Mummy said to them:

‘Young girls, headache.’

And one of them said: ‘Ah yes! France headache.’

23 June 1940

It’s never ending. They have stolen all the bicycles. All their lorries are French or English and they have pinched loads of things sent to us by the Americans.

In the afternoon Louise, Nicole and I went up to the windmill to get some peace and quiet, because the soldiers come by all the time to wash or just visit. The farmers are unbelievable. They are terrified of the Bosches and give them all their wine, eggs, etc., and bow and scrape to them. With the result that some of them think they can get away with anything. We came down from the windmill and were going to lie on a blanket on the grass. Two Bosches arrived and sat down right next to us; as we got up, they picked up this notebook and opened it. Luckily they don’t speak French so they couldn’t understand a word. But my diary has been soiled by Bosche hands. They left dirty fingerprints on these pages. It’s my first defeat, my first humiliation.

We thought France was sure to win, and one month later everything’s ruined. But there’s still England, and we’ll see what happens…In any case France and Britain are more united than ever.

26 June 1940

What a lot has happened today!

The Armistice was signed, for a start. The conditions are very tough, they include demobilizing the army but we haven’t been told much yet. French troops are going to England en masse to carry on the fight and the RAF is bombing continuously.

Yesterday I talked with two German soldiers. They spoke excellent French and English, which they learnt at some university or other. I was up a tree and they were down below. I saw one of them again today, in the street, and he said hello to me. I was unsure what to do, whether to speak to him in front of people or not. He was with a whole group of soldiers. I nodded my head slightly and walked on. Suddenly I heard a click, and then another. I turned round—another click. It was a real ambush. Two of them were taking pictures of me. I was furious. As they went past another said to me, in French, of course:

‘You are very pretty, mademoiselle.’

Grr…Grrr…The Bosches, they have no right to say that to me!

Later I was sitting on the kitchen windowsill with Marie-France, Hedwige [the maid] and Nicole and we were laughing. Suddenly someone came up silently and put an arm round me. I thought it was Papa! Marie-France, Hedwige and Nicole started laughing like idiots. I turned round and saw it was a Bosche! I ran away as fast as I could, while those idiots just carried on laughing.

When I calmed down, I had a look at him and decided I had reacted like a little girl. He didn’t do anything terrible. Frankly, I wish he were English because he’s really quite good looking. And he’s got brown hair and I vowed when I was nine that I’d never marry anyone blond.

So now that’s two men who have taken me in their arms—this one and Sinclair, the Scot. But Sinclair wanted to show me the inside of his lorry.

1 July 1940

There is apparently a big battle going on between the English and the Bosches in the north of France. Good.

We went with Hedwige—who is from Alsace and speaks German—to ask the Bosches to lend us a ball and they came and played with us. We had fun but it was even more fun seeing the looks on Aunt Louise and Uncle Fritz’s faces, they looked so protective, especially whenever a German came close to one of us. Uncle Fritz said: ‘Ah! Who’d have thought they’d ever play with German soldiers.’ And we enjoyed riling them. They are so annoying, going on at us all day long, trying to have a word with us, always wanting us to listen, always bossing us around.