Typhus

            Weeks went by.  Our living conditions were awful: air raids, bombing made us anxious and tense, and this situation was exacerbated by the British soldiers who went after our women at nighttime.  My father could not accept this situation any longer and decided to take us to a distant farm where we could take refuge among other family members and friends.  A difficulty lay in the walk through the whole city necessary to get to the path.  Because of the frequent bombings it was wise to start our journey at night.  On our way we heard British patrols which we had to avoid since we were under the curfew.  At times we could see them stop at a bombed site, sorting through the debris in the hope of finding some precious object.  Then we would resume our journey each of us with a heavy bundle of blankets and cooking utensils which made up our basic needs.  The trip was long and tedious, we were tired and sleepy and from time to time we would discard articles to lighten the load.  My three year old younger sister had difficulty keeping up with us.  She was exhausted and we had to stop frequently and wait for her.  My mother was already carrying the baby and therefore my father put my sister on his shoulders and discarded his bundle.  Miraculously we came across a herd of donkeys led by an old man at a point when we were all completely exhausted.  In exchange for a few coins the old man put his animals at our disposal.  Immediately we transferred our loads and were relieved to walk side by side with the animals.  Then relaxed, we were able to look at our surroundings and appreciate the pure air, the beautiful fields covered with thick grass and enjoy the lazy sunrise and complete silence.

            Around noon we reached the Nezer farm which had become a commune housing thirty families.  We were warmly welcomed with hugs and kisses.  The farmer set aside a stable as a dormitory for us and delivered a cart load of hay for bedding.  Everyone tried to make us feel at home, they warmed us up with a rich soup after our tiring journey.  At last we felt secure and happy.  As children we were so happy to be there, it was as though we were playing truant from school.

            One day a cousin of mine came from the town.  He told us that his sister was staying in a brothel.  Hearing this, his mother slapped him, not knowing that due to a lack of space in hospitals, schools and brothels had been converted into make shift infirmaries.

            An epidemic of typhus was spreading rapidly and death rates were rising.  A British army doctor by the name of Smith visited the countryside in order to trace the disease and attempt to control its spread.  This disturbed our tranquility causing us fear and anxiety.  He found a few cases among us and sent them back to the city.  Fortunately he was helped by a young Jewish doctor by the name of Cohen.  We waited eagerly for his visits since he would bring us news about our friends remaining in our town.  Unfortunately this was too often unpleasant and disturbing, such as hearing about the hospitalization of the whole Lelouf family in our former school.

            That news brought back to my mind the day when our headmaster had told us we were at war.  I remember my schoolmaster, Mr. Vilmai, who arrived from France full of enthusiasm for his teaching.  He did not exercise strict discipline and showed considerable friendliness towards us.  This did not endear him to his fellow teachers.  He was adverse to the idea of making us write hundred times the same sentence as a punishment.  His practice was to ignore infractions but after class to ask us for an explanation on a one-to-one basis.  In a very short time our class became the best behaved and this was achieved without effort or punishment much to the envy or even jealousy of the other teachers.  Before class he would talk with us casually about anything, for example if we had a problem in fielding our soccer team he would volunteer and play with us; or if one of us had not fully understood a lesson he would give us extra time at his home.  We were all familiar with his house since we all had had the pleasure of visiting him there.  He would engage in free ranging conversation as a way of spurring up our minds to new horizons and a greater understanding of life.  Needless to say we became attentive students in his company.  Mr. Vilmai was conscripted as a pilot.  He was killed during his first mission, which saddened us greatly.

            Typhus did not spare my uncle.  We refused to see him go to die in a school or a brothel.  Therefore, we all agreed to hide him during Dr. Cohen's usual visit – who, by the way eventually died through his own devotion.  We knew it was risky and that we could be contaminated but we had accepted the idea of dying.  The disease was merciless and destroyed entire families.  It was similar to a hurricane leaving behind piles of corpses which we then had to carry to the cemetery.

            Even many of those who thought themselves spared already carried the virus.  The elder people were convinced that none could escape it.  The British soldiers as well as our people were hit by the disease.  Those who came looking for girls ran off in a second at the sound of the word Typhus.  They would have been better off by staying in their own country.  It was an ironic situation.  Even if the German High Command had a good plan of campaign, they were nevertheless greatly assisted by this epidemic.