Paris '44: The City of Light Redeemed

by Mortimer Moore, William

  THE SAME AFTERNOON THAT NORDLING’S TRUCE half lived and half died, Henri Rol-Tanguy moved his HQ from Rue Schoelcher to the cellars beneath the Department of Roads and Transport on Place Denfert-Rochereau. These catacombs are accessed via the eighteenth-century Barrière d’Enfer,* a tax collection pavilion dating from the ancien régime.

  “We installed ourselves twenty-six metres below ground in a vast complex of rooms, offices and underground corridors remarkably arranged since before the war by the défense passive should they need to shelter several official services in the case of the capital being bombarded,” Rol-Tanguy told Roger Bourderon. “A very important factor is that they are very well ventilated. I was already aware of this since 1936 because the ventilation was installed by Nessi in Montrouge where I had worked and been a Syndicalist delegate. It ran on diesel motors with a bicycle style dynamo in case it broke down. Thank God we never had to use it. How did this all happen? General Bloch-Dassault, who was on the committee of the Front National, personally put it at my disposal at the beginning of August. He [Bloch-Dassault] was in contact with Avia and the engineer Taves, thanks to whom we were able to go to Rue Schoelcher, and who organised our move underground with his own men.”190

  Rol-Tanguy’s staff evacuated the Rue Schoelcher building via a network of tunnels connecting both the Place Denfert-Rochereau and the Gare Denfert-Rochereau. During the remainder of the Insurrection, Rol-Tanguy rarely left his new CP. When he did he used the large, dark Citroen loaned by the Préfecture on the 19th along with a driver, Roger Barrat, and a policeman called Dubarry who, alternating with FTP résistant Vacek, acted as Rol-Tanguy’s bodyguard.191

  Within this subterranean world Cécile Tanguy controlled the secretariat and loose ends of liaison aided by Mademoiselle Nicolas, whose services came with the premises to keep the complex going, particularly the switchboard, electricity and ventilation machinery. Their spartan meals consisted of boiled potatoes with dripping, tinned fish, white bread and water to drink, albeit finished with a tot of Benedictine while the bottle lasted. “I always kept in mind the restrictions imposed on other Parisians,” Rol-Tanguy told Bourderon.192

  The Germans knew about the Barrière d’Enfer complex, but their attention was limited by insufficient manpower. A telephone call at around 10am would be fobbed off by Mademoiselle Nicolas’ switchboard staff. Since the complex was guarded by the usual municipal workers, nothing attracted suspicion. Access was strictly on an essential basis; not even Rol-Tanguy’s chauffeur or bodyguards went down there. Important résistants like Raymond Massiet or Police General Hary visited under Rol-Tanguy’s personal supervision. For those practised in la vie clandestine, such measures were perfectly normal. “As for liaison officers,” Rol-Tanguy told Bourderon, “they arrived via the Gare de Sceaux, were received by an officer of my staff, and departed via the Rue Schoelcher.”193

  Thanks to the railwaymen’s union the Metro’s telephone system was placed at the FFIs’ disposal, offering over two hundred telephone outlets across Paris. Again, declining German manpower meant that, although they knew these facilities existed, they were unable to control them. “Through these multiple sources, telephones, correspondents, liaison officers, a mass of information converged on my staff,” said Rol-Tanguy. “Reports of combats in process, enemy dispositions, building of barricades, and requests for reinforcements. We followed the movements of German tanks very precisely; this allowed us to alert FFI units and send combat groups to harass them and put them out of action.” Naturally some information reaching Rol-Tanguy’s CP was unreliable, but the intact telephone system meant that reports about the approaching Allies also reached the Barrière d’Enfer from further afield.194

  For all the accusations that Rol-Tanguy was a bolshy left-winger with his own agenda, he was increasingly concerned not to have heard anything from André Trutié de Varreux (Brécy), whom he had sent to the Allied lines with a message requesting them to march on Paris immediately. Rol-Tanguy had to assume that Varreux was dead, which he was. To replace Brécy Rol-Tanguy needed someone au courant with the situation in Paris, sufficiently senior to command respect from other resistance cells, and who spoke excellent English. The obvious candidate was reserve Commandant Roger Cocteau (codename Gallois). An industrialist in civilian life, Gallois acted as Rol-Tanguy’s chief of staff, often liaising with Colonel Lizé. “I had total confidence in my chief of staff,” Rol-Tanguy told the 1994 Colloque, “not only for his loyalty, but also for his diplomatic sense, way with words, for the certainty that he would make the Americans aware of the problems in supporting the Paris insurrection, regarding its armaments as well as sending a marching force, the 2e DB in particular. Chaban-Delmas had already told me, as early as July, that it would be the 2e DB who would be directed first towards the capital.”195

  “Nothing in the manner by which Colonel Rol managed the Insurrection permits one to think that he had any other object than to fight the Germans. For my part, I never had—during the seven days of the Insurrection—any serious worries in this regard, knowing that shortly afterwards France would be united behind General de Gaulle,” said Alexandre Parodi many years afterwards.196

  “IN THE COMPANY OF ANDRÉ LE TROQUER, minister delegate to the liberated territories, the generals Juin and Koenig and Gaston Palewski,” de Gaulle wrote, “I arrived at the Préfecture of Rennes.” His machinery for re-installing French sovereignty was working “invincibly”. At Rennes’ Hôtel de Ville the new maire (mayor) Yves Millon, “surrounded by his council, résistants and notables”, asked de Gaulle to reopen the “golden book” of the Breton capital, thereby renewing its civic life. Afterwards, in torrential rain, de Gaulle addressed a large crowd.197

  While Rennes was undoubtedly an improvement on his staged arrival in Bayeux, de Gaulle’s thoughts were naturally on Paris. As soon as a solitary moment could be found he wrote to General Eisenhower, airing the anxieties accumulated since their meeting earlier in the day.

  My dear General,

  The information I have received from Paris today makes me think that, in view of the almost complete disappearance of the Police, and of the German forces in Paris, and the extreme shortage of food there, serious trouble is to be expected in the capital very shortly. I believe it is necessary to have Paris occupied by the French and Allied forces as soon as possible, even if it means a certain amount of fighting and a certain amount of damage within the city. If a disorderly situation were now to arise in Paris, it would be difficult to take things in hand without serious incidents, and this might even hinder subsequent military operations. I am sending you General Koenig who has now been appointed military governor of Paris.

  As for the city’s interim military governor appointed the previous December, after two days of being courteously slapped down by the Americans, Leclerc was considering unilateral action, and ordered Jacques de Guillebon to assemble an advance guard.198

  * Pierre Bourget says that Rol-Tanguy was aware of this at the outset. But at the 1994 Colloque to commemorate the 50th anniversary of the liberation of Paris (attended by survivors and academics), Rol-Tanguy said this only happened on 22 August.

  * While this location might have been mentioned in Victor Hugo’s Les Miserables and its name, Enfer, means “Hell”, the Place Denfert-Rochereau is actually named after the Colonel Pierre Denfert-Rochereau who successfully defended the town of Belfort in eastern France against the Prussians in 1870. The Lion of Belfort statue at its centre is a smaller version of the sculpture in Belfort crafted by Frederic Bartholdi, who also created the Statue of Liberty.

  Chapter 6

  Rol-Tanguy Takes the Initiative

  20 August 1944 (continued)

  DOCTOR ROBERT MONOD had been covered in blood all day, beginning with his morning drive to the Laennec Hospital. A Parisienne had been shot while bicycling along the Boulevard Saint-Germain. Losing the struggle with her internal injuries, Monod only wished badauds and cyclists would be more careful on streets that had become battlefi
elds.

  Monod assumed that nothing had come of his efforts the previous day to connect the FFI with the Americans through his tenuous connections. But around 3pm, Dr. Jean-Claude Duchène, a résistant from Versailles, visited Monod with a message from Dominic Roumajou, his sector chief, saying that the Americans were reachable near Montfort l’Amaury. Impressed that the Allies seemed so close, Monod contacted a comrade in Ceux de la Résistance asking for Rol-Tanguy to be informed.1

  This synchronised perfectly with Rol-Tanguy’s recognition that Brécy’s mission had failed. Within an hour Monod was visited by another résistant demanding precise details of how he knew about Americans at Montfort l’Amaury. Monod refused to tell anyone but Rol-Tanguy or a significant member of his staff.2

  According to Dronne, Monod’s visitor came from Colonel Lizé rather than Rol-Tanguy. But Gallois’ version is that Rol-Tanguy recognised that “it was necessary that a relief column arrive to support our effort and to exploit without delay the results that we had achieved. From this originated the decision by Colonel Rol to send one of his officers to request the necessary support as soon as possible.”3

  Rol-Tanguy’s view, shared with Bourderon, was that the proximity of the Allies represented an unmissable opportunity. “There remained the problem of finding a way for Gallois to cross the German lines. Examining this problem at our HQ, we thought it best to contact the FFI responsible for the Corbeil sector, Commandant ‘Georges’, whose real name was Georges Desnoues.”4

  Around 6pm Monod took a call from his linkman Guillaume; Monod’s offer to help contact the Americans had been accepted; an envoy would soon arrive. Monod recognised Roger Cocteau/Gallois immediately from the Armée Secrète; “Such coincidences were frequent in the double lives of clandestins.” Gallois admitted to Monod that the FFI had barely enough ammunition for an hour’s fighting.5

  YET, AT A COMAC MEETING ON Avenue du Parc Montsouris, Rol-Tanguy and other so-called extrémistes drew up a communiqué protesting their exclusion from the truce negotiations. Rejecting one of Nordling’s key justifications, they claimed that the city’s monuments were just as vulnerable from air attack as destruction by ground forces. The possibility of reprisals against the Parisian population was also rejected, since Germany held enough French prisoners to use as hostages if they wished. Chaban-Delmas was criticised for over-estimating German forces in Paris. COMAC also considered how to harass the three depleted German divisions guarding the southwestern approaches to the city, calling in Allied air support if they needed to.6

  “As far as the urban guerilla war was concerned, we began by holding the enemy by the throat so that we could not let him go,” Rol-Tanguy told Bourderon. “He needed to play for time, which he did. The remarkable thing in the development of the Insurrection during the 20 and 21 August was that, in spite of the losses among the FFI caused by surprise attacks from an enemy taking advantage of the confusion which accompanied the proclamation of the ‘truce’, the balance of forces had definitely turned in favour of the Paris insurgents.”7

  Von Choltitz’s garrison could hardly be expected to respect an agreement flouted by the FFIs. Ordinary Parisians who, merely hours earlier thought the war might be over, had their hopes dashed as loudspeakers denounced the FFI as “Criminal elements bent on terrorising the city”. Once again the Germans warned that any captured FFI would be treated as francs tireurs and shot. A poster appeared evoking an execution pit, showing a blindfolded man and the caption, “We warn you! Think of Paris!”8

  On the Place Saint-Michel, the FFI fought so ferociously that a tank and four lorries were destroyed and many Germans either killed or taken prisoner. The telephone exchange at 103 Rue de Grenelle was seized by fifty FFI. When von Choltitz’s garrison finally recognised their oversight in not controlling this utility, they sent infantry supported by a tank to seize the exchange on the Rue du Louvre, but were repulsed by determined FFI.9

  On the south side of the city, furthest from embattled central areas and least likely to see loudspeaker cars, 20 August was punctuated by several brutal incidents. Wehrmacht soldiers guarding the generator at Villejuif were sent packing and replaced by FFI, while on the east side more district mairies were taken over: Les Lilas, Bagnolet, Bondy, Drancy, Noisy-le-Sec, Pantin, Romainville, Montreuil and Pavillon-sous-Bois. But when FFI went to take over the fort at Vincennes they were repulsed by tanks.10

  WAVED THROUGH THE PORTE D’ORLÉANS CHECKPOINT by FFI, Monod turned towards Versailles. By the time they got through German checkpoints around Versailles and Saint-Cyr, it was 7pm. All around them German tanks, artillery and soldiers prepared to face the Allies. A few kilometres further on, approaching a checkpoint, they found themselves behind a Kübelwagen. Surprised to see a civilian vehicle behind them, two officers got out and approached Monod’s car. Roumajou calmly explained that Monod was a doctor and they needed to evacuate women and children from a holiday camp before the area became a battlefield. Roumajou claimed to be Monod’s assistant and that Gallois was a paramedic.

  “I’ve got all our papers,” said Monod.

  Declining to inspect their documents, an officer said the roads ahead were mined and showed them a map marking minefields between Versailles and Trappes. They would have to retrace their steps.

  They turned towards Clayes but were blocked by felled trees guarded by truculent looking Germans. Roumajou asked to speak to someone senior and was led away while Monod and Gallois waited apprehensively. Unable to bear it any longer, Monod went to look for Roumajou who was chatting in a garden with an officer who calmly explained that the roads ahead were either blocked or mined, while bridges would have been blown.

  “You should make a detour,” the officer said.

  “Yes, we will,” said Roumajou, departing.

  Deciding to make a final effort to reach Montfort l’Amaury from the north, instead of following German advice, they headed for Villepreux where they learnt that only one road-block separated them from no man’s land and the American lines. It was merely a pair of obstructively positioned bollards guarded by two German soldiers. Unfortunately, while one was happy to let them pass, the other was more obstinate.

  “Nichts! Nichts! Kein! Kein! ” said the obstinate soldier.

  Noticing camouflaged troop positions nearby, the Frenchmen recognised that forcing their way across would get them shot. Monod made a U-turn and they set off to find another route via Saint-Nom-la-Bretèche. But it was nearly 9pm. The streets were empty and windows shuttered. Some houses were still inhabited by anxious villagers praying their homes would survive the clash of armies. As Monod drove at a crawl, they noticed two lovers walking arm in arm. They told Roumajou that the mayor lived on a farm two kilometres outside the village. Even in 1944 mayors were often Vichy supporters, but Roumajou knocked on a cottage door whose elderly owner assured them the mayor was, “Certainly not for them.”

  Past curfew, they set off to find the mayor but found another German checkpoint supported by a machine-gun beside the farm’s entrance. Worse, they were quickly surrounded by well-armed Waffen SS. Again they moaned about children marooned at a nearby holiday camp, Monod keeping the Germans talking while Roumajou and Gallois knocked up the mayor. One of the SS told Monod that he too should visit the farm to find the children rather that chatting to his men.

  The mayor said it was impossible to reach Neauphle-le-Château that night, since the area was crawling with German troops, and local farmers were banned from working their fields. The mayor agreed, however, that one of his farmhands would guide them to Neauphle at daybreak. Otherwise he advised Monod to get his car under cover since the Germans would requisition even the humblest barrow.

  Returning to the village, they knocked on a door hoping to find somewhere to spend the night. To their surprise it was opened by friends of Gallois who told them that Saint-Nom-la-Bretèche had been liberated by an American patrol, but that no positions were established before the SS returned and prepared their defence line. Monod, Roumajou an
d Gallois crashed out in the living room. Torrential rain rattled the shutters. Unable to sleep, Monod woke Gallois to discuss what they were going to do at sunrise.

  “We arrived too late,” Monod told Gallois. “The route which was passable yesterday wasn’t today.”

  In such conditions, Monod believed their best option was to approach the American lines from Dourdan-Étampes where he had Resistance contacts. When Gallois told him that Rol-Tanguy merely wanted information and an air-drop of weapons and ammunition, Monod argued instead that “A few tanks arriving as reinforcements, to reduce their redoubts with cannonfire, would be sufficient to secure their surrender. To abandon Paris at such a moment would, perhaps, be to expose her to worse, when it looks easy to save the city by occupying it without delay. Not to do this would be seen in the eyes of the world a gross dereliction. Would the Americans remain indifferent to the possibility of their prestige being debased in the eyes of Parisians? Their methodical advance appears somewhat over-cautious in the eyes of the French.”

  What if these arguments did not persuade the Americans to enter Paris? In that case Gallois should ask to see Leclerc, if only to shake his hand.11

  21 August 1944

  AT 7AM, PIERRE TAITTINGER, Ruegger and Cornillat were led by gloating guards to the Préfecture’s Room 22 which, they were warned, was their last stop before the firing squad. There was a long table, chairs and a high barred window. Among his captors Taittinger recognised various Gardiens but also noticed several new men. Taittinger noticed how many senior résistants were not Parisians; Luizet was Lyonnais while several had Breton accents. It was less humiliating than being imprisoned by fellow Parisians. Then a policeman Taittinger recognised said menacingly, “We know who you are,” while another mentioned more convivially that his parents lived in a Girondin village where Taittinger had connections. “Why bother guarding them?” asked a third. “Shoot them in the back and throw them in the ditch with the others!”12