Chambon sur Voueize 1940
Inspired by stories told in my old hometown in The Creuse…
La Poste, of course.
It made perfect sense,
symbol Paysan of Republic
become Nazi nucleus.
Not the enemy.
Ageing tillers and stockmen
know but one foe;
an unappeased Mother Nature.
Pastis stills peasant animosity.
And German youth,
no worse than young Parisiens
might stand a man a glass.
The infants of France.
They see a different Teuton;
the bottom of a wine glass
will not restore their pride.
Sons and daughters.
Partisans and plotters
of post-Revolutionary France,
will pay the price in blood.
Brothers and sisters.
Murdering sisters and brothers;
the internecine battle
for the splintered soul of France.
The cost of liberation?
Blood enough to heal the rift,
whilst old men shift upon their seat,
and pour another Pernod.
I googled Chambon sur Voueize and found a French site that deals with the area during the war. It is difficult to put oneself into their situation – especially from a British background; we sometimes talk – my wife and I, how we would have acted – had our country been occupied; we’d like to think we’d stand up and resist – but would we? Anyway, a perceptive work, thank you.
Reminds me of the French film Uranus, set right after the war. Evocative verse, as always from you.