121. 70th Anniversary of the Comet Line

25th February 2011. Regular readers of this blog will be aware of my interest in the WWII escape network known as the Comet Line (mentioned before here). It was set up in 1941 by Andrée De Jongh, a 24 year old Belgian woman, with the aim of repatriating Allied aircrew shot down in the Low Countries by passing them from Brussels down through occupied France to the Basque country, over the Pyrenees, across into 'neutral' Spain and back to Britain via Gibraltar. They achieved miracles, returning some 320-odd airmen (out of a total of ~800 others) via the Pays Basque to Britain. The Comet Line helpers paid a high price for this - 286 were shot or otherwise killed. 

An annual commemorative weekend (this year it's 9-11th September) is held here in the Basque country (as well as in other locations) and, over 2 days, participants retrace the same route taken by the escapees from Ciboure (set on the bay of St Jean de Luz) up and over the Pyrenees to Renteria in Spain. Last year, I had the honour of meeting Andrée Dumon aka "Nadine" and Bob Frost (story here in English & French) - both of whom appear in the videos below. It's difficult to reconcile the image of the charming, sparkling lady in her nineties of today with the grim reality of what happened to her. As for Bob, he's a very modest hero and a real gentleman with clearly the utmost respect for "Dédée" and the other helpers. As he says, if civilians were caught by the Germans giving aid to shot down airmen, they could expect the severest of punishments. Men were shot, women were sent to concentration camps in Germany - usually under the powers of the infamous Nacht und Nebel decree. Bob says that, in those circumstances, only exceptional people were prepared to take that risk. He then goes on to say that of that group of exceptional people, "Dedée" De Jongh was herself exceptional. That says it all. This year sees the 70th anniversary of the first successful "home run" by an RAF escaper.  

26th February 2011. Did 14km this morning in a coxless quad sculler that felt as though it was crewed by four total strangers. This often happens at the start of a sortie but things generally sort themselves out after a few km. Not this morning though. Made for an uncomfortable few hours. (Running total: 448km)

The general consensus from the rugby fans at the club (which is just about all of them!) about this evening's Le Crunch was that England were going to win by some margin. However, you never quite know with France - if they get the bit between their teeth, they're capable of anything. I'm still going for an England win but it's all set to be a fascinating contest both between the two sets of forwards and the talented backs. Let's just hope we get to watch a great game of rugby.

Just watched the anthems at the beginning of the Italy v Wales, I had to laugh at the singing of the Italian anthem. The crowd, the band and the players all set off at the same time and then it was a straight race to the finish! And I'm not sure who won! Very likeable people the Italians with an enviable way of life.

72. Villa Voisin

17th July 2010. I mentioned in an earlier post that I've become increasingly interested in the Comet Line since I found out that its operations in the South West of France were controlled from a house just a few minutes from here.

Dédée

The Comet Line was a secret network established during WWII by Andrée De Jongh ("Dédée" or the Little Cyclone), a brave 24 year old Belgian woman, with the aim of helping shot-down Allied airmen to escape and evade from the Low countries down through France, over the Pyrenees to Spain and hence to return to Britain via Gibraltar or Lisbon. The activities of the Comet Line in the Pays Basque were co-ordinated by an indefatigable Belgian lady - Elvire De Greef - known as "Tante Go".

"Tante Go"

She and her husband Fernand lived in nearby Anglet in a house known as the Villa Voisin. In researching the Pays Basque end of the Comet Line, I finally managed to pinpoint the address of the Villa Voisin and I drove there today. By the way, my comments on the Comet Line are not intended as an exhaustive account of the activities in this area by any means. I'm aware that in naming names that there are many others who remain un-named. My admiration for all those who helped is unbounded and without reservation.

Villa Voisin

The Villa Voisin* is located at the end of a discreet cul-de-sac in the centre of Anglet, set back from the lane. It's an anonymous, drab villa hiding behind closed shutters and and surrounded by a small garden. It appears to be unoccupied at present. Affixed to one of the gateposts is a simple marble plaque (left). It was with mixed emotions that I finally found myself outside it. Those immensely courageous people who'd operated the Line from it had known the highs and lows of a secret life on the run against a ruthless enemy - the need for eternal vigilance, the constant fear of the heavy tramp of boots outside that preceded a late night hammering at the door. Counter-balancing that however, they'd shared the adrenalin-fuelled comradeship, the knowledge that they were fighting for a better world and the satisfaction of knowing that they were both defying the invader and contributing to his defeat by helping hundreds of escaping airmen to evade capture and return home to fly again. In the four years it oper­ated from 1941 to 1944, the Comet Line saved hundreds of Allied airmen and soldiers to evade capture and return home. It's difficult for us today to imagine the kind of world that made the Comet Line necessary.

* (Edited to add: Sadly, the Villa Voisin was demolished not long after I wrote this)  

Looking at the house, I found myself wishing that I'd known Dédée and "Tante Go". Christened the Little Cyclone by her father, by all accounts Dédée was clearly someone very special indeed - possessed of an inner fire and an unquenchable determination to "make a difference". Knowing that hundreds and thousands of Allied airmen were going out over occupied Europe night after night in their bombers to destroy the Third Reich that had occupied her country, she'd felt compelled to join the fight and to take the same risk as them (many would say an even greater risk) in playing her part in ridding Europe of the scourge of tyranny. After having made 37 crossings of the Pyrenees with her precious cargo of airmen, she was captured in January 1943 as a result of a betrayal, interrogated by the Gestapo when, in a gallant bid to save her fellow Comet members, she admitted to her disbelieving questioners that she was indeed the central controller and organiser of the entire network. She was later deported to Ravensbrück and later the appalling Mauthausen where she somehow managed to survive for two years until the Liberation.

After the war, she was awarded the George Medal (scroll down the link) by King George VI following which she moved to the pre-independence Belgian Congo, then to Cameroon, next to Addis Ababa in Ethiopia, working in leper hospitals and finally to Senegal. In failing health, she eventually retired to Brussels where she died on 13th October 2007 aged 90.

Florentino

The Basque guide who led parties of airmen across the mountains for the Comet Line was the legendary Florentino Goicoechea (above). By profession he was a smuggler (alleged to have been wanted by the authorities on both sides of the border!) and, when awarded the King's Medal, he was described as being 'in the import and export business'! He looks like someone you'd want on your side in a tight corner. Here he is again in 1965:

I'm no great believer in medals, awards or citations, but if medals are to be awarded, I think we should make sure the right ones are given. Dédée and "Tante Go" (and others) received the George Medal (right). I would have said that the Victoria Cross, Britain's highest award for gallantry, would have been more appropriate, given their achievements and the risks they took. After all, they chose to involve themselves, to risk their lives. They could have just kept their heads down and carried on with life and no-one would have been any the wiser. Theirs was not a courage born of the heat of battle and over in a flash but rather it was a cold courage that was measured, a solitary courage, aware of all the terrible risks they were taking (no Geneva Convention or prisoner of war camps for them) and yet they continued the fight for years. I know the VC is intended for military personnel only but who would argue that they were not involved in a military undertaking. I would have made an exception in their case and I firmly believe that all three (and others) fully merited the VC. 

Another safe house was provided by Jean and Marthe Dassié, a family of activists in Bayonne. Their 16 year old daughter Lucienne ("Lulu") was also involved and, after being captured with her parents in 1943, she and her mother spent 2 years in Ravensbruck, a name that still sounds fearful today. Her father Jean survived the horrors of Buchenwald only to die aged 50 within days of being reunited with his family in May 1945. Here are a few lines by Kipling written after the Great War but they apply equally here.

They are too near to be great,

But our children shall understand.

When and how our fate was changed

And by whose hand.

                                                                                                           Kipling        

The "Trois Couronnes"

I'm planning to participate in a 3 day "March over the Mountains", around the distinctive Trois Couronnes (above) and down into Spain, that will take place in September to commemorate the south western Comet Line. The route will re-trace exactly the path taken by Dédée and Florentino and the escapers from Urrugne in France to Renteria in Spain. Now in her eighties, "Lulu" telephoned a couple of days ago to provide some information about the event. It will be a great honour to meet her.

Here's Le Chant des Partisans - (the Partisans song) - which leaves listeners in no doubt as to the views of the occupied population:

  

21st July 2010. Let's enjoy a happier mood now with the Buena Vista Social Club playing Chan Chan live in Amsterdam:

To finish up with, here to take you home is Ry Cooder & The Moula Banda Rhythm Aces with Maria Elena:

62. Summer's here

23rd May 2010. Up early (just after 6am) to savour the peace and quiet of a summer's morning. The window is wide open, the birds are tweeting, a church bell in town is calling the faithful to church and the early morning shadows are slowly sinking down the walls of the big white Basque house across the avenue as the sun climbs up. It's going to be a hot one today.  

I went down to the rowing club yesterday for an outing for the first time in 6 months. It wasn't a long outing - I'd guess only about 8-9k - but as far as my knees were concerned, it went fine. That is, apart from when we returned to the pontoon and I couldn't stand up in the boat to get out! I had to flop out in an undignified heap! We opened up the bar afterwards for an apéro to mark my return.. Some things don't change! It was good to see them all again. Tomorrow I'm signed up for the final day of the Trois Rivieres event organised by the other rowing club in Bayonne - Aviron Bayonnais.

Four of us from our club are going to take a 'yolette' for a 20k row up the Nive as far as Ustaritz. It's my old cycling route so at least I'll know where we are in terms of how much more pain to go.. And, of course, being France, all this will be followed by a 'pot' from midday to 1pm and then lunch till 3pm.. then a wobbly ride home on my bike..

Speaking of which, Madame and I went out this morning on our bikes up the Nive.. With it being such a beautiful morning, all of Bayonne was out there.. There were quite a few boats out on the slow moving green waters of the river too - single sculls, pair scullers, fours and a couple of eights.. in perfect weather. It wasn't all confined to the river - it was also happening on the towpath - there were trendy mamans on  inline skates swishing along at high speed with their babes in hi-tech push chairs, Mums & Dads & offspring various on bikes of all sizes.. walkers, power walkers, joggers, every variety of cyclist, fishermen, etc etc.

I've been reading up on Le Réseau Comète (known as the Comet Line in English) which was set up by Andrée De Jongh, a 24 year old Belgian woman. She established a network that helped hundreds of Allied soldiers and airmen to escape, evade and return safely to the UK. It stretched from Belgium in the north, down through occupied France, over the Pyrenees to Spain and hence to Gibraltar and home. By sheer coincidence, Villa Voisin, one of the safe houses at the south western end of the line in France, is in Anglet which is but a 5 minutes car ride from Piperade Towers and I'll be taking a look at it very shortly.. There were two other safe houses in Bayonne and I'll be looking at those too.

The safe houses in the Pays Basque at the south western end of the Comet Line are shown here:

It struck me forcibly this morning that I wouldn't be experiencing the pleasure of living down here in my retirement were it not for the heroism of those involved in the Comet Line. It would have been all too easy for them to have kept their heads down and just got on with daily life as many chose to. Choosing active participation in the Resistance was an extremely fraught occupation and the penalty for being caught was the absolute certainty of being subjected to barbaric methods of interrogation and punishment of the kind last seen in Europe in medieval times. I have the utmost respect and admiration for the courage of those unsung heroes who stepped forward to fight tyranny when it became a reality in their own country. To all those brave men and women of the Resistance who died lonely deaths in nameless cellars across Europe - we owe an eternal debt of gratitude. 

17. Noël

I was just saying to Madame the other day that so far we’ve seen no reference to the approach of Christmas in any of the shops – no towering displays of marzipan or jars of mincemeat or John Lennon singing “So this is Christmas”.. or Easter eggs in Woolworths. (now - unbelievably - closed for good in the UK I heard)

So imagine my surprise this morning when I heard on the radio the unmistakeable sound of 'Jingle Bells'…! It made me think – well here we are with less than 2 months to go to Christmas and still no Christmas Lights.. The French just don’t have a clue do they.. (irony!) I would guarantee that, for the last few weeks, supermarkets back home will already have been fully set up with dedicated aisles for such traditional English Christmas essentials as German Stollen bread, French marzipan, Belgian chocolates, Turkish delight, Italian panettone cakes and the like (we contribute the spuds!).. and deep freezes full of turkeys the size of small boulders..

One afternoon we went into Bayonne to a “Depôt Vente”. This is where you can take things to sell – mainly furniture.. The Depôt Vente sets the price and then takes a percentage of the proceeds. We went there looking to see what they had in the way of armoires. There were some in stock and while they were certainly cheaper than we’d seen in antique shops, it was fairly clear why. I think these are the kind of places that you need to drop in every week to see the new stock as it arrives - except that, like stuffing mushrooms, life is just too short for some things.

After this, it was starting to feel like evening so we came back. Madame had bought some chestnuts so we had these roasted with a cup of tea (living dangerously!).

For the French holiday on 1st November, we planned on going to Les Aldudes - a village buried in the Basque mountain country that straddles the entrance of a valley that, while it runs deep into Spain, is still French. The valley's chief claim to fame is that it produces arguably the best Jambon de Bayonne in the area. And, of course, many of the other products that the Basque cuisine is famous for.

There is a saying that some lofty Parisian food critics are fond of quoting that the only implement needed in a kitchen in the South West is - a tin opener! While this was meant as a clever put-down, nevertheless I think it does hit on a truth. Much of the great products of the South West can be preserved.. Think of confit de canard, foie gras, haricot beans in graisse d’oie (goose fat), rillettes, cassoulet and pipérade (though personally I have some doubts about this last one) et al... There isn't much that can't be put in a can or a jar - but it's none the worse for that. It's possible to buy all these products via mail order too!

Post visit report: Well, we had a great day out today high up in the Pyrenees.. First of all, the weather was supposed to be 3C in the morning warming up to 12C in the afternoon. Anyway, we set off and as we climbed up and up the skies cleared and we were gradually able to see the start of the high Pyrenees in the distance – the mountains near us were only about 2-3,000‘ high – further east, I think they go up to about 9,000’ or even higher. As we climbed, the full extent of the Pyrenees started to unfold in front of us.. and just when we thought we’d seen one high mountain, in the distance behind it, we’d see another even higher one - and in the blue misty distance behind that one, another one..

Les Aldudes

.. and yet another one beyond that. And all the time, the valley sides were getting steeper and steeper as we wound our way ever-upwards.. It was difficult to keep one eye on the driving with all this magnificent mountain scenery around us and at one moment, I thought I saw the pale outline of a snow-covered white peak that was higher than the rest, way way off in the distance and I thought, surely not, a snow covered peak so early in the season but on the regional news when we returned home they featured it too. First snow of the year in the Pyrenees..

Stirring mountain scenery and it was difficult to keep my eyes on the road as the country opened up before us. We ran up the valley on an old single track smuggler’s road that climbed up towards Spain and near the top we pulled over to eat our lunch.. I opened my window and looked out across the expanse of a great deep valley – white farmhouses with red roofs were dotted across the valley floor. It was through rugged border country like this that the men and women of the wartime Comet Line (organised by 24 year old Andrée De Jongh, a brave Belgian woman) famously helped Allied airmen to escape down from the Low Countries, through the occupied zone in France, across the Pyrenees into neutral Spain and home via British-controlled Gibraltar. In fact, in Sare, a Basque village close to the border, I recently discovered a newly placed memorial (below) to Victor Ithurria, a highly decorated and legendary figure who served in the SAS with great distinction during WWII before being killed on 25th August 1944..

I saw some large birds flying around in circles and I realised I was watching vultures (griffon vultures..) circling around in the air currents.. As I watched, I saw one furl its wings and dive down to the ground, followed by another, and another. Soon, there must have been 20-30 of them down there. Whatever was down there under a tree was getting a good pecking. Another British pensioner who won’t stop for a snooze after lunch again! We first saw them here a few years ago when we were up high in the mountains.. I remember thinking at the time, if I didn’t know better I’d swear they were vultures. When we got back to the hotel, they told us that, yes, there were quite a few vultures up in the hills.. Certainly makes you think twice about falling asleep in the sun after a good lunch..

We next came to a small village, ie, about 5 houses together, and one of them was a hotel with a restaurant. Out of interest we stopped to look at the lunch menu… it was £8 for a 4 course lunch…! (these are 1960 prices!) Next time we go up there, we might just try it. Anyway, we continued higher up the valley and soon we came to the border. There was no border as such – just a garage and a smoky café.. (smoking still being allowed indoors in Spain)

The countryside looked spectacularly good in its burnt copper autumn colours under a cloudless deep blue sky. After this, we went to St Jean Pied de Port. This is a very old town in the heart of the Pyrenees where Madame’s father’s family originated.

It’s on the pilgrimage route to Santiago de Compostela in northern Spain. People still come from all over the world to walk the route. It was getting really warm now and after blocking various pavements for a while we found a tea shop and sat outside in the sun. Madame couldn’t believe that she was still wearing her sunglasses on 1st November..!

Main street of St Jean Pied de Port

Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port

At the moment, there’s still that holiday feel to life down here because we’re still "camping out" in the gîte with a minimum of our belongings. I just have the one English book and that’s “Out of Africa” - which I’ve read twice since we’ve been here - as all our books are in storage. As a compulsive reader, forgetting to pack a box of books in the van was a major mistake.

This is "Tarantella" by Hilaire Belloc.. (try reading it aloud)

Do you remember an Inn, Miranda?

Do you remember an Inn?

And the tedding and the spreading

Of the straw for a bedding,

And the fleas that tease in the High Pyrenees,

And the wine that tasted of tar?

And the cheers and the jeers of the young muleteers

(Under the vine of the dark veranda?)

Do you remember an Inn, Miranda,

Do you remember an Inn?

And the cheers and the jeers of the young muleteers

Who hadn't got a penny,

And who weren't paying any,

And the hammer at the doors and the Din?

And the Hip! Hop! Hap! of the clap

Of the hands to the twirl and the swirl

Of the girl gone chancing, glancing, dancing,

Backing and advancing,

Snapping of a clapper to the spin

Out and in

And the Ting, Tong, Tang of the Guitar.

Do you remember an Inn, Miranda?

Do you remember an Inn?

There is another verse but I like this one.