aggression.’
The speaker was their sergeant, in peacetime a Parisian lawyer who, despite his membership of Action Française, had joined de Gaulle in 1940, one of the comparatively few French soldiers evacuated from Dunkirk who had declined the chance to be repatriated and chosen to remain in England. He now pulled at his moustache and said, ‘I hope Vichy throws them back into the sea.’
It was with difficulty that Léon prevented himself from laughing out loud. Whoever said the French were a rational people? But he couldn’t help smiling and the sergeant turned on him, angrily.
‘Are you mocking me, little Jew?’
‘Certainly not, my sergeant, but we are engaged to fight against Vichy, aren’t we?’
‘You don’t understand, young man. You don’t begin to understand, Vichy is France too.’
So do you cry ‘Vive de Gaulle’ or ‘Vive le Maréchal’? Léon wondered, and then it occurred to him that it might be possible, quite sincerely, to do both. Moreover, if the American landing succeeded, there might be some in Vichy who cheered it, and were ready to adjust their political position accordingly.
XVI
‘So what do you make of it?’ Bracal said.
Lannes had no immediate reply to offer because, quite truthfully, he really didn’t know what he thought. There had been rumours that the Americans were preparing a landing in North Africa, but he had discounted them as he discounted so many of the ‘on dits’which people had bandied about since 1939.
Bracal smiled.
‘I’m not surprised that you decline to commit yourself, Jean, even in a private conversation. What I am sure of is that it will make your work – our work – even more difficult, not to say dangerous.’
This was doubtless the case, but what struck Lannes was that this was the first time Bracal had addressed him by his Christian name. He couldn’t respond in kind, even if etiquette permitted him to do so, because he didn’t know the judge’s one. Indeed he knew very little about him, not even whether he was married and a father.
‘It may be the turning point,’ Bracal said. ‘Or it may not. What I’m sure of is that things will get worse before they get better. The word is that Laval has gone to Germany to meet Hitler – gone of his own accord or been summoned, I don’t know. When I say that’s the word, I mean it’s information a friend in Vichy has passed on to me. It’s not public knowledge.’
Lannes thought, why are you sharing it with me?
He said, ‘And the Marshal?’
‘Well, as I’m sure you realise, since Laval returned as Prime Minister in place of Darlan in the spring, the old man isn’t much more than a figurehead. Apparently he says that Laval knows how to talk to the Boches, and Darlan doesn’t. He might be right there; Laval’s a politician to his fingertips and the Admiral is really a bureaucrat. My friends say he is never happier than when drafting a memorandum which most of the time nobody reads. They don’t like Laval but they respect him even if they also deride him as an Auvergnat peasant.’
And who were these friends, Lannes wondered, and what was their position in Vichy? Did they blow with the wind? Was Bracal alert to any change in its direction? He lit a cigarette.
‘I don’t understand politics,’ he said, ‘I’m only a cop.’
‘Oh, quite.’
‘But if you ask me, the Marshal should fly to Algiers. The Americans still recognise him as Head of State, don’t they?’
Bracal’s fingers tapped out a tune on the desk, his habit, Lannes had noticed, when he wanted time to think or was uncertain what to say. The sound of a horn blared from the square.
‘That’s the Gestapo,’ Bracal said. ‘I’ve come to recognise their note. This news will have made them edgy, though they’ll never admit to that. You’re right, Jean. The Marshal should indeed do as you suggest. It’s the only way to save his honour and perhaps his life. But he won’t. He has his own idea of honour, you
The speaker was their sergeant, in peacetime a Parisian lawyer who, despite his membership of Action Française, had joined de Gaulle in 1940, one of the comparatively few French soldiers evacuated from Dunkirk who had declined the chance to be repatriated and chosen to remain in England. He now pulled at his moustache and said, ‘I hope Vichy throws them back into the sea.’
It was with difficulty that Léon prevented himself from laughing out loud. Whoever said the French were a rational people? But he couldn’t help smiling and the sergeant turned on him, angrily.
‘Are you mocking me, little Jew?’
‘Certainly not, my sergeant, but we are engaged to fight against Vichy, aren’t we?’
‘You don’t understand, young man. You don’t begin to understand, Vichy is France too.’
So do you cry ‘Vive de Gaulle’ or ‘Vive le Maréchal’? Léon wondered, and then it occurred to him that it might be possible, quite sincerely, to do both. Moreover, if the American landing succeeded, there might be some in Vichy who cheered it, and were ready to adjust their political position accordingly.
XVI
‘So what do you make of it?’ Bracal said.
Lannes had no immediate reply to offer because, quite truthfully, he really didn’t know what he thought. There had been rumours that the Americans were preparing a landing in North Africa, but he had discounted them as he discounted so many of the ‘on dits’which people had bandied about since 1939.
Bracal smiled.
‘I’m not surprised that you decline to commit yourself, Jean, even in a private conversation. What I am sure of is that it will make your work – our work – even more difficult, not to say dangerous.’
This was doubtless the case, but what struck Lannes was that this was the first time Bracal had addressed him by his Christian name. He couldn’t respond in kind, even if etiquette permitted him to do so, because he didn’t know the judge’s one. Indeed he knew very little about him, not even whether he was married and a father.
‘It may be the turning point,’ Bracal said. ‘Or it may not. What I’m sure of is that things will get worse before they get better. The word is that Laval has gone to Germany to meet Hitler – gone of his own accord or been summoned, I don’t know. When I say that’s the word, I mean it’s information a friend in Vichy has passed on to me. It’s not public knowledge.’
Lannes thought, why are you sharing it with me?
He said, ‘And the Marshal?’
‘Well, as I’m sure you realise, since Laval returned as Prime Minister in place of Darlan in the spring, the old man isn’t much more than a figurehead. Apparently he says that Laval knows how to talk to the Boches, and Darlan doesn’t. He might be right there; Laval’s a politician to his fingertips and the Admiral is really a bureaucrat. My friends say he is never happier than when drafting a memorandum which most of the time nobody reads. They don’t like Laval but they respect him even if they also deride him as an Auvergnat peasant.’
And who were these friends, Lannes wondered, and what was their position in Vichy? Did they blow with the wind? Was Bracal alert to any change in its direction? He lit a cigarette.
‘I don’t understand politics,’ he said, ‘I’m only a cop.’
‘Oh, quite.’
‘But if you ask me, the Marshal should fly to Algiers. The Americans still recognise him as Head of State, don’t they?’
Bracal’s fingers tapped out a tune on the desk, his habit, Lannes had noticed, when he wanted time to think or was uncertain what to say. The sound of a horn blared from the square.
‘That’s the Gestapo,’ Bracal said. ‘I’ve come to recognise their note. This news will have made them edgy, though they’ll never admit to that. You’re right, Jean. The Marshal should indeed do as you suggest. It’s the only way to save his honour and perhaps his life. But he won’t. He has his own idea of honour, you
Similar Books
