May 8th is Victory in Europe (VE) Day. In France, as every year, it is a public holiday—a day when ceremonies are held across the country to remember those who died during World War 2 (1939-1945).
In Paris, President Macron will lead a ceremony to honour those who gave their lives, and rekindle the flame at the tomb of the Unknown Soldier, on which is written: “Ici repose un soldat français mort pour la patrie.” (Here rests a French soldier who died for his country).
It’s difficult to imagine the fear and barbarity which existed in this beautiful part of the world more than 80 years ago when German forces overran this part of France. This was the reality for the people who lived here. Some still live here, but as the years advance, the stories of their personal experiences during those times will be lost.
But here is one story from a neighbour and friend.
During the German occupation, Jean-Louis Garcis and his family lived on a farm on the edge of Toulouse. He remembers clearly the day SS officers, apparently tipped off by neighbours, marched into their farmhouse to search for escaped prisoners and illegal weapons. Jean-Louis remembers how one SS officer noticed a photograph of his father, Gaston, in a French army uniform, spitting on the floor in contempt. In response, six-year-old Jean-Louis turned towards the officer and also spat on the floor. For his young patriotism, he received a sharp tap on the cheek with the officer’s riding crop.
Gaston Garcis was, at the time of this unwelcome visit, a prisoner of war. He had been a soldier in the 14th Infantry Regiment and had been captured in the Vosges Mountains in 1940. He was initially imprisoned in Italy and subsequently in the Rawa Ruska camp in Ukraine. (He escaped from this prison twice but was recaptured.) Rawa Ruska was known as ‘the camp of thirst and slow death’ and had originally been for Soviet prisoners, many of whom had died under the inhumane regime.
From 1942, French prisoners who refused to work in German factories or had sabotaged German facilities were replaced by these Soviet prisoners and endured similar conditions of starvation and torture. After the war ended, Gaston was finally repatriated in 1945, but for over two years, his wife and young family had no idea whether he was alive or dead.
Jean-Louis’s wife, Christine, has an equally fascinating personal recollection of the war. Her father, André Mot, was a member of the Blagnac Résistance in Toulouse, a part of France being run by the Nazi-cooperating Vichy government. Along with many others, Mot couldn’t bear to stand by and let the Germans take over his country, and he began to play a major part in the Résistance’s communication networks. Distributing Résistance newspapers as an illegal sideline to his respectable accountancy job in a clothing company, Mot was soon involved in far more dangerous activities.
Among many acts of extraordinary bravery, which included helping a group of French prisoners escape, he also managed to help conceal the existence of a Jewish family. Shortly afterwards, one of his Résistance compatriots, Jean Pain, was captured and executed by the Milice (the French military police who sided with the Nazis). Mot himself narrowly avoided being killed in a surprise attack by the SS Das Reich during which nine of his team were killed.
While on one of numerous forbidden journeys from Bordeaux to Toulouse as part of his role in the Résistance, he was forced to hide in a bush for over eight hours to avoid being seen and undoubtedly arrested by the German enemy who were only metres away. Mot didn’t realise that he had been spotted by a young farm girl who, on the pretence of chatting with the German officers, discreetly threw a small package of bread and cheese into the bush for him as she walked past, helping him get through his uncomfortable and dangerous situation.
He remained undeterred and, in August 1944, while disguised as a paysan (farmworker) working in the fields near the airport (at the time controlled by the Luftwaffe), he noticed an unusually large quantity of bombs being transported along the runway. That night, he and an accomplice managed to sneak in and diffuse a number of them.
A few months later, while doing his regular Résistance surveillance, he noticed a Henkel bomber with a smaller aircraft mounted on top of it. He made a rough drawing of it (see diagram above) and passed it on to his Résistance chief, who used the network to forward it to the Allies in London.
A couple of days later, the Luftwaffe’s base was subjected to intense bombing by a combined British and American air force and was destroyed. This action triggered the withdrawal of German troops from the Toulouse area.
Mot was awarded the Croix de Guerre for his bravery and several other awards, including the Légion d’Honneur. He died in 2011 as the last surviving member of the Résistance in Toulouse.
Such stories and lived experiences that took place during times of conflict, tyranny and uncertainty have to be told and retold. Because they aren’t just stories — they are lessons. Lessons that are not being learnt. These terrible times happened. Similar terrible times are happening now.
So we must tell the stories again and again—until they are learnt.
The French Ministry of Armed Forces said last week: “The 80th anniversary of the victory of 8 May 1945 implies, more than ever, a double responsibility”, continuing, “To the last surviving witnesses of the war, and to the younger generation.” In 2025, it is more essential that the commemorations of May 8th “honour the sacrifices of those who fought and suffered — but also pass on their testimonies and memories to today’s youth.”
